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Like A Snow Leopard Falling
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"Like A Snow Leopard Falling" - oil on Yupo, 12 x 19 inches. This item is unmounted and unframed. (click on the image to purchase)
I recently viewed a video of a snow leopard. It was chasing its prey (some sort of deer perhaps) and they both ran off the edge of a cliff...the leopard grabbed its prey and held on, I mean held on even as the two tumbled on rocks, over more edges, bouncing and careening to the bottom, where the leopard got to its feet with its jaws still firmly holding on to the other creature.
It was an unsettling video, but also amazing. What living things can and will do in pursuit of something. What can be survived in the pursuit of that thing. What can be endured. I imagine the snow leopard didn't even do the thing I would have done, which is to look up, pause and think whoa! I was just waaaaaaay up there, and now I am down here and ALIVE.
And in a way, I think artists are a bit like that snow leopard, falling in pursuit.
Really, Lola? Yep. Indeed. Hear me out.
We get this vision in our heads of what is possible. Maybe just an idea of our own, maybe seeing what others have created or are working on. And we pursue that idea - relentlessly. Falling, careening, bouncing, suffering, but hanging on. Piles of attempted paintings (or pages of words written, or crushed clay or wood pieces, whatever your art may be) and yet we don't pay that any mind - we just keep pursuing.
It may take years. We may feel injured (unmotivated, discouraged, disillusioned) along the way but inevitably we are back at it, trying again and again and again. We get a little closer. A little closer still. And maybe we never actually get our teeth around that vision we're pursuing - but we can smell it, taste it, imagine it so clearly.
Abstract painting is like that, for me. It is like a snow leopard falling - trusting I will land on my feet at the bottom with the thing in my two hands. I'm still falling, by the way. But never mind that - it is so close I can taste it.
Abstract painting is like that, for me. It is like a snow leopard falling - trusting I will land on my feet at the bottom with the thing in my two hands. I'm still falling, by the way. But never mind that - it is so close I can taste it.
I'd love to hear what you're relentlessly pursuing! Leave a comment below.
About the art: beginning with a gesso-primed gallery-wrapped canvas, I pressed leftover wet paint palettes against the canvas over a period of weeks, never mind color, consistency or pattern. This creates a lovely uncontrived texture and pops of unexpected color coming through the final piece. Once thoroughly dry, I drew a rough sketch with a wet brush covered in thinned dark paint. At this point I am not wedded to the composition, just exploring. Working top to bottom with a palette knife, I applied paint in thick layers, allowing the colors to blend in some places and making sure to preserve a thin line of the dark under sketch at the border of each shape. Once the neutral base layers were in, some drying time and then the pops of pinks and reds were added. I carved back through the nearly dry paint with a chopstick, creating trails meandering down the canvas. Walking away before my neat and tidy side can overwork the textures.
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Your title.
Your establishing of underlayer by pressing leftover wet paint palettes against the canvas over a period of weeks, never mind color, consistency or pattern.
Your walking away before your neat and tidy side could overwork the textures.
Your running off the edge of a cliff and careening, bouncing, suffering, but hanging on NO. MATTER. WHAT.
Relentless pursuit.
Fabulous feasting!
And no problem on the video - it's a tough one. Nature is relentlessly brutal sometimes. Well, so is art, I suppose?