 The Scrumptiousness of Solitude", mixed media on watercolor paper, 11" x 15". Available on Artfinder.
This. This made me weep yesterday. From Clear Seeing Place by Brian Rutenberg: "Some of my brushes are thirty-five years old; however, when I buy a new one, I immediately snap it in half...A precious tool makes precious marks. A broken brush is no longer a magic wand or a conductor's baton but a blunt, compact stub that puts my gigantic hand close to the battlefield. Painting is messy. My tools are clumsy. I disrespect my materials out of respect for my viewer." And then there is a photo of broken brushes. Why did this make my cry? Something about the visual. Intentionally breaking something to make it less precious, more blunt. Argh. I love this. And yet I fear it. Because this is what life does to us as humans - breaks us and puts us closer to the battlefield. And when it first happens, it is so hard. And then, after we are no longer precious, we are somehow more beautiful, more vibrant, more gritty and more real. My sister told me long ago - "Life is Messy." I've wrestled with the thought, sometimes embracing it, other times trying to tidy the world around me and all the people in it. But during the moment I read the passage from Rutenberg's book, I really, really got it. I recently bought some used paintbrushes at an art flea market. And, with the exception of intact handles, they are as Rutenberg described - blunt stubs. My hand grabs them each day in the studio, preferring their rough and unpredictable textures to the smooth evenness of new brushes. I prefer a messy battlefield on the canvas. I don't yet prefer this in my daily life, but thanks to this exquisite bit of prose, I see a metaphor for finding the beauty in the mess and in the purifying fire of the process. Maybe, just maybe, I will break something on purpose today.
9 Comments
4/19/2017 09:28:26 am
When I got sober in AA 31 years ago, we newbies loved the book, "The Velveteen Rabbit". The story of this lost, beaten up little stuffed rabbit resonated with us. Even today,when I think of that story, I get a lump in my throat. Sort of like your broken brushes. Battle weary, but full of love and wisdom.
jen
4/19/2017 09:36:55 am
Oh my goodness! That is the second reference to that book this week! The universe is promoting this message. :) I, too, get teary at that book. The Velveteen Rabbit and broken brushes. Love this, Patti! 4/19/2017 02:16:01 pm
Your message today has such welcome gritty punch. I get into tangles with precious all the time, and have done so since the very first time I picked up a brush. Painting brings out the precious in me and, therefore, offers up plenty of practice in letting go of same. Bit by bit, with painting as my touchstone, I am recognizing precious more readily in other arenas and am able to let go there as well.
jen
4/19/2017 04:04:21 pm
"gritty punch" - I like that. Sounds like a good name for an abstract. :) Solitude is restorative, luxurious, decadent at times. But so necessary. It is precious, but like a rare gem, not like my neat little brush strokes, ha ha! We are both learning to get gritty Dotty! I love where your work has been taking you.
Carol Edan
4/19/2017 03:03:35 pm
Love this piece! Every time I visit my grandson we watch an episode of Once together. This reminds me of the dark forest. Sometimes when precious things are broken they become more dear to us. I fondly remember a doll,not the plastic kind,but of some hard materal, that my upstair neighbor boy broke. I keep all my old brushes, maybe they are dead as well.
jen
4/19/2017 04:08:15 pm
The dark forest!!! I used to watch that show, too. Enchanting. The doll is an interesting memory - how they linger, these moments of brokenness. Your old brushes must give incredible textures and unpredictable strokes? 4/20/2017 12:06:47 am
I still haven't broken any brushes and probably won't but I sure do abuse them as well as all the other materials I use. My presona excludes "precious". There are no glory sticks or magic wands in my tool chest.
jen
4/20/2017 07:16:13 am
Stan! You are such an incredible role model! Plus, you recommended this book, which has become my new art bible. :) Love your work, your methods and your devil-may-care approach. Now come back to Fort Lauderdale and teach another workshop! Pretty please?
Patricia L. Brooks
4/20/2017 07:16:21 am
Aftermath...the golden glow of the battles' end.... This piece luxuriates in that glow, JEN!! Battle-scarred you may be; however, the light that you exude opens our hearts to the JOY that the future holds. This is an ENORMOUSLY beautiful, edgy piece, Jen👍👍👍‼️‼️‼️BRAVA for its' creation and willingness to share your soul searching with us all💓💓💓‼️‼️‼️ Leave a Reply. |
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