Breadcrumb path to the soul

You wouldn't just let it burn

Mixed media on canvas, 71x87cm. 

Framed in white (with the painting continuing on to the frame)

2019 Megan Chapman

I sit here at my blog writing desk (this is a new thing - I now have a blog writing desk and swivel chair for my art business purposes). I have no idea what to write about but I am here on a Friday attempting to get back into this blog writing groove. Grey sky above, a cup of tea, and the cat next to me, as I look out the window. 

I am waiting for some art supplies to be delivered, nothing major just some paper and some spray fixative so I can tackle the mound of finished work that needs fixing due to my using Conte crayon pastels. The paper will hopefully be used for some new small works that I will mount - think Christmas presents. How can it already be the 20th of November!?! 

I have put on some concentration music on my headphones, I look to the sky and zone out thinking about a potential new accidental portrait I could paint. Remember those? Then my mind turns to wonder if we are all trapped 16-year-olds in ageing bodies or if that is just me. I am thinking about art related to that, but just for a split second - nothing serious. 

I have some small canvas-covered boards I could be working on - another Christmas sized item for your enjoyment and purchase. Fine art for Christmas. Thinking about all the marketing aspects -  fine artists and makers scrambling for sales, attention, new ways of being in this Instagram society. I don't think I imagined this when I graduated from art school over 21 years ago now. I was 4 years "behind" my peers after a stint of doing nothing much at all. I remember feeling so old and so young at 27 when I completed my BFA. And at 48 I still feel so old and so young, I imagine that is how it will always be. 

I take more photographs than paint these days (that's really been the case for a long time), for a split second I remember thinking about switching my major to photography from painting. That would not have made sense and I am glad I didn't and I think the two work well hand in hand. Photography helps me see, and you have to be able to see to paint. I am not talking about with functioning eyes but more with another sense. Photography allows me to see things I am too close to and feeds the information to me in another way that I can more easily digest. Listening to music, writing, and photography are my breadcrumb path to the paintings. I can't have one without the other.

Abstract paintings are the breadcrumb path to my soul and the unseen world outside and they connect me to you if they work right or if you are in the right place to see and receive them. I have cleaned my tiny workspace, I am almost ready to begin again. 

The sky is completely white and featureless, all the angles of the neighbouring houses punch into the air. The negative space loudly proclaims I am here. 

I love sitting in front of windows looking out.

The Glowing Horse

Art is so strange when you really think about it. As you know, I will always question my reasons for being an artist. I will always wonder if I am an artist for the right reasons. I will always question the work I create. I will always approach my work with trepidation and wonder. I will always feel some guilt and sadness for not choosing an easier more stable path, and at the same time I will feel guilt and sadness for choosing such an easy path. I will always wonder what people are talking about, when after I tell them I am an artist, they say "that must be so much fun." I will always hope I stay relatively healthy since I don't have health insurance. I will sometimes feel like a child because of the typical adult trappings I lack. I will always feel a little sad when I get compliments that I can't live up to, but mostly I will feel flattered. I will then wonder if I suffer from false modesty.

When I was a child in elementary school, I loved "show and tell." I couldn't wait for it to be my turn, so I could sing "I'm in the mood for love" that I had just learned from watching an episode of the Little Rascals. I couldn't wait to tell stories about the raccoons that would creep in my window at night and curl up on my bed to sleep. I even fantasized about show and tell. I had very long hair when I was young, and I dreamt that I would arrive at school wearing a hat and my teacher would call me to the front of the room for that days sharing, and I would simply remove my hat and all my long hair would be gone! That never happened.

I sung "Fame... I wanna live forever" at the top of my lungs in the 5th grade talent show- and I meant every word. So, this sharing, showing and telling has always been a part of my life, and I have always wanted to be a little famous, and I have always wanted to live forever... So, that is why I am here. I don't have a choice.

I wanted to be a dancer, then a singer, then an actress, and now an artist (I was always an artist) but that has been the progression. Some days I wanted to be a comedian or a DJ. I think being an artist is the safest choice, and it seems to fit my personality the best.

This choice makes even more sense to me now. I feel a type of connection to all the other artists in the world, more of a connection to their sensibilities than to anything else. I love the books they read, the music they listen to, their ideas about the world, and the way they maneuver through it. They are all searching, connecting, being too honest and vulnerable. Some of them steal ideas and images from each other, personalities even. It is fascinating to watch. I am glad to be a part of this. Very human and real. There are a lot of lovely people out there, these artists. I am struck by the fact that they are all hustlers. They are working so hard. We are all working so hard, for each others affection, attention, money, praise, and hopefully sometimes for ourselves.

This week, as I was busy working in my studio, I had a sudden urge to paint something different, rather than my usual shapes and colors. One of the images from my 1999 book series came to mind, The Glowing Horse. Suddenly, I wished I could cover the two large canvases before me with blue - the perfect blue of my dreams. I wished I could draw the outline of the horse of my past in white chalk. Why did the glowing horse decide to show up then, and what was he trying to tell me?

I just kept working on the usual and I smiled at the thought.
I am so glad to be a part of this.

Now, for two exciting announcements: First, this post marks the one year anniversary of the Studio Blog! Thanks so much for reading and cheering me on! Second, It is time for the paper painting/print give away! This month I will be giving away a 8x10 glossy print of The Glowing Horse to one lucky reader that leaves a comment on today's blog. I will mail to anywhere in the world. I will randomly draw a number to correspond with the comments in the order they are received. Leave your comment between now and Tuesday at midnight. I'll post the winners name in my blog next Friday; please be sure to check back, so that I can contact you. I really appreciate everyone who reads and comments on my studio blog. Thanks again for your support and encouragement. It means the world to me. GOOD LUCK!