- Published on
"Sowing Hope" - mixed media on canvas paper, 16" x 20". Available on Artfinder.
Is it Wednesday already? As soon as I decided to re-enter the world, someone said "GO!" and the pace multiplied exponentially. This week I am working on a nearly 6' panel based on a personal story recorded by the folks at World & Eye Gallery (check them out here). What's the catch? I have exactly two days to generate a story-inspired piece of art. Ok, so you know me, I launched right into it, came up with a righteous idea, and then decided to hand print papers to collage 60% of the panel. So it has been gelli printing MADNESS in my studio. But I have made huge progress and will get it done. But for now, a lovely pause to reflect on the piece featured here, which I finished a few days ago.
This one calls to me every time I walk past the studio door. It whispers, beckons, gently waves me over. It is an intuitive piece, in the style of Stan Kurth. The figure appeared about two layers in. Everything felt organic, connected and pure. One of those rare moments when a painting feels like an extension of my arm instead of a foreign object which I must tame through aggressive paint throwing. :)
What was the secret to this one? I listened to the painting this time. Tuned out my own expectations and just sat with it. But I was also good and relaxed after a little solitude and rest. I'm sure that is a part of it, too.
I've started the second book recommended by Kurth. You are going to want this one. Clear Seeing Place, by Brian Rutenberg. It's like an autobiography mixed with art philosophy, techniques and career advice. And it flows. Easy like he's sitting right next to you having a casual conversation. But juicy and packed with treasures, like this one: " A landscape by Paul Cezanne isn't a statement but an invocation; it whispers, 'Come closer, let's twist nervous systems around one another and construct a place that wasn't there before.'" Ahhhhhhh.
And now, there is a behemoth panel yelling my name from down the hall. Nothing gentle about that one. I'd best go before it comes looking for me...
Is it Wednesday already? As soon as I decided to re-enter the world, someone said "GO!" and the pace multiplied exponentially. This week I am working on a nearly 6' panel based on a personal story recorded by the folks at World & Eye Gallery (check them out here). What's the catch? I have exactly two days to generate a story-inspired piece of art. Ok, so you know me, I launched right into it, came up with a righteous idea, and then decided to hand print papers to collage 60% of the panel. So it has been gelli printing MADNESS in my studio. But I have made huge progress and will get it done. But for now, a lovely pause to reflect on the piece featured here, which I finished a few days ago.
This one calls to me every time I walk past the studio door. It whispers, beckons, gently waves me over. It is an intuitive piece, in the style of Stan Kurth. The figure appeared about two layers in. Everything felt organic, connected and pure. One of those rare moments when a painting feels like an extension of my arm instead of a foreign object which I must tame through aggressive paint throwing. :)
What was the secret to this one? I listened to the painting this time. Tuned out my own expectations and just sat with it. But I was also good and relaxed after a little solitude and rest. I'm sure that is a part of it, too.
I've started the second book recommended by Kurth. You are going to want this one. Clear Seeing Place, by Brian Rutenberg. It's like an autobiography mixed with art philosophy, techniques and career advice. And it flows. Easy like he's sitting right next to you having a casual conversation. But juicy and packed with treasures, like this one: " A landscape by Paul Cezanne isn't a statement but an invocation; it whispers, 'Come closer, let's twist nervous systems around one another and construct a place that wasn't there before.'" Ahhhhhhh.
And now, there is a behemoth panel yelling my name from down the hall. Nothing gentle about that one. I'd best go before it comes looking for me...
Is your World & Eye Gallery project part of Telling Tales: Stories of Home? Awesome that you are participating. Can't wait to see, and to know the story behind your particular painting.
What a gift that Sowing Hope came from one of those rare moments when a painting feels like an extension of your arm. The painting is arresting. It speaks to your tuning out your expectations and tuning in to the painting itself.
And now, another book for my reading list!
So many gifts to me first thing this morning—thanks.