Let me be dramatic

I feel like I am losing myself or is this the way back? I am not sure.

My dreams have been so real and I can tell my brain is processing and crunching memories, fears, loves, and losses. Crunching, crunching, crunching.

I wake up in a stupor because my mind has used all its energy in the night.

The first cup of coffee is a miracle. I imagine I am a fish as I breathe it in through my gills, desperate for air.

I settle in to feed on the information that runs me ragged. News stories, doom at every turn, sadness and despair, punctuated with fight and litigation.

Everyone is having a hard time. I am not unique. We are all in this particular hell together.

I can't express myself, so I eat bread and cereal. I don't feel hungry but I keep eating. I feel myself expanding even though what I really want is to disappear from this timeline.

I will perform these behaviours until the inward anger rises and the discomfort snaps me into a grand correction. Then I will be like jesus and get my shit together.

A return to my better ways of living. 

A rebellion curtailed until the next time.

The Now and the Memories

One. I'll be pink and you will be too. We will spread out over oceans. We will spread across time. We will isolate together, alone. At first, our boundaries will be defined. People all around us, keeping us warm like insulation. You stay in your group and I will stay in mine. Be safe.

Two. People are rushing all around, there has been a breach. There are other pinks but not exactly like me, and certainly not like you. There is a mad crush, they want to rub shoulders, they want to talk loud, spit flies in the air. I am caught against them, held captive but the walls soothe you. 

Three. We are lost in the sea of bodies, my light is dimming. Less pink all the time. I can't see. 

The memories: Fresh like spring and we are gone. 

Five new works on paper created in August 2020. These works were inspired by life, real and imagined, and the words, 'the loss of physical touch is distancing my soul' written by my friend Rosa Macpherson. 

These are the first finished abstract works I have created since May 19th. 

These mixed media pieces are on 200gsm heavyweight acid-free A3 sized cartridge paper and are available for purchase in my Ko-fi shop.

Money, art, and more onion hospital days

It's grey and overcast and the cobbles are wet. I have a cup of coffee and I am listening to this beautiful album to conjure up a mood. My headphones are on and a pad of paper is next to me with a pen. On the paper are social media stats and in my mind are the beginnings of yet another idea to bring my art to more people and also bring some money into my bank. Of course, I didn't want to write the sentence including the words money or bank. Like many other artists, I wonder why can't it just be about the art? Naive, I know.

I am continually reminded of this quote and I wish I wasn't.

“When bankers get together they talk about art. When artists get together, they talk about money.” -Oscar Wilde

I try my damndest to just talk about art, pretend I don't need money, don't want things, don't worry about "security." However, I need, want, and worry like everyone else.

So we will see if the ideas come to fruition from the pad of paper sitting beside me and if I can find that balance of making art and making money.

In other news, this week's Tuesday Studio Video Visit seemed to have struck a chord with folks, as it received 1,800 views! I talked about intuition, imagination and the importance of play. If you missed it on my facebook art page you can see it again here. Thanks to everyone who viewed the video and commented on it on facebook, it feels good when we can connect this way.

You can see in the video that I worked on another canvas this week and made some "spirit bundles." I mostly took it easy as I nursed a trapezius injury which frustratingly kept me away from painting. I love getting to that point in my life where I can injure myself in my sleep.

So, that's all I have for you this week. I wish you more onion hospital days. Keep fighting. Keep playing.

The Map, and then the Reality

Part 1: The Map

It is time to get serious for my upcoming exhibition."Evidence of the Disappearance" to be held at the Blue Moon Gallery in Hot Springs, Arkansas in June and July 2008. I head to the studio early one morning to find the paperboard backing off an old newsprint pad and I grab the nearest sharpie marker.

I make a map or diagram of what I need to do.

Preparing for a show is a long process and it can be overwhelming so, I like to "map" out the grand scheme and then eventually break it into more manageable chunks and set daily goals. I scrawl the title across the top, and start visualizing how many paintings I want to create to fill the space and of what size and orientation. I write a few ideas to keep me in line, things I know I want to incorporate into the show, a little of the theme, and some reference points. I draw boxes representing the paintings that I have completed, started and finished. I will mark these "done" as I work through my plan, with dashed lines, X's and checks- these markings will mean something to me. I am already feeling some relief. Some structure is a good thing; when I set parameters, I can then relax and let go and know that the process will take care of me in the end.

Once I have my visual map, rather than thinking "upcoming show=a ton of work," I can break it down, "Today all I need to worry about is starting three paintings, or revisiting yesterday's 10x10's etc." I take an index card or any scrap of paper and write down this smaller daily goal and pin it to the bulletin board in my painting area. I rarely look at it again except to mark it "done" when I am about to turn off my studio lights for the day. These little organizational tools help me to keep a cool head. I have these goals, but I also know I may not always meet them. I may get caught up in a particular piece and drift away and loose track of my "map" for the day and that is fine. I use the map and small goal cards to jump start me into action, and to bring some order to an initially unnerving situation. There is always room to deviate and meander through the process of preparing for an exhibition.The map and cards are simply my good intentions actualized, and we all know that saying about good intentions...


Part 2 : And then the reality

I shout at the muddy fragmented painting, " you're killing me!"and then suddenly it yields unexpected and positive results. The floor of my studio becomes littered with blotter paper and partially finished paintings. I am listening to every Interpol song ever recorded and I know I am in the zone.

Random words, sections of remembered dreams and song lyrics filter through as I work. Occasionally, even a potential title will reveal itself. This hum runs through my mind as my music gets turned up another notch. I jump, clap, and sing loudly, as I am painting. I am an active participant but I am not really here at the same time. I am watching all this happen from the other side of the room. One painting leads to another, one problem after the other, they keep pulling me along as I gain momentum.

This is my process at 5am (and sometimes earlier) every morning when I am working on a show. Some days are amazing, the music has never sounded better and the paintings on the easel are flowing like electricity. And some days, in the bright lights of my studio the paintings are awful, like pulling teeth or learning a new language, tears come too easily and it feels like I have never painted before. At times, I feel like giving up and getting a job at Target. Voices in my head, (the inner critics) say "hide the gold, hide the aqua- you know you are just imitating yourself!" So, I use some other colors for the sake of freshness and they reward me with a vividly hued mess. I then yell at the canvas "Are you kidding me?" The painting is so ugly it's embarrassing. I turn off the studio lights, my brow furrowed,"Am I really going to leave that on the easel to greet me when I return?" Sadly, I think so.

This impasse also signals break time. Perhaps, a MySpace login is in order (hello friends!). After a few minutes of quick greets, best wishes, and emoticon winks, I march back up the stairs to my studio and once again disappear into the process. I find a strong yet dreamy song and set it to repeat, and for the next few hours it helps to silence the questions, and I will dive back in. I know I will repeat this process again and again for months until the "Evidence of the Disappearance" is realized...


Now, for an exciting announcement: It is time for the paper painting give away, the response was tremendous last month! I will be giving away a small original painting on Arches paper to one lucky reader that leaves me a comment on today's blog. I will mail to anywhere in the world. To enter, please leave a comment on this blog entry. I will randomly draw a number to correspond with the comments in the order they are received. The giveaway runs from today through Tuesday of next week, so get your comment in between now and Tuesday at midnight. I'll post the winners name in my blog next Friday, along with an image of the piece they will receive so please be sure to check back, so that I can then contact you to get your postal information. I appreciate everyone who reads and comments on my studio blog. Thank you for all your support and encouragement. It means the world to me. GOOD LUCK!

Tiny Virtues

Today, I want to delve into the creative process and meaning behind my painting, "Tiny Virtues." I think it is important to have an opportunity to discuss a work of art with the viewer and for the artist and the viewer to have a dialog about the work. This is not always possible, actually most of the time, this is not possible. Art openings are usually crowded, and it is hard to have an intimate discussion with the viewer about the work, or the work is being shown away from the artist, and unfortunately the artist and viewer will never meet. I am excited to have this opportunity to discuss this piece and my painting process with you.

When I go into my studio to paint, I know a few things for sure. I know that I am an abstract painter. I know that some of my paintings may have an implied horizon line, and organic shapes that resemble a known object, but that my main goal is for my work to be intrinsically abstract in nature.

I know that I love color. I am drawn to deep, rich colors that include blues, greens, deep yellows, golds, oranges, deep rusty reds, and olive greens. I know that I love texture, whether the paint is thick and craggy or creates a subtle texture that resembles those found in nature, such as lichen, mold or rust, these patterns have always appealed to me. I know that I love gritty pencil lines, and charcoal smudges. I know that I love oval and smooth rounded organic shapes. I like how colors can float on top of each other to produce something new, create depth, and illumination.

I know that I work fast, and that I work on several paintings at a time.

So, these are some of the basic things I know before I paint. Everything after this is usually intuitive, and process based. It is a journey of sorts, and many problems come up along the way, and the fun is solving the problems. I work with the materials as I maintain balance and intensity, as well as creating works that will connect with one another in a series while not being too repetitious.

My actual painting process varies some from one painting to another, but there are some basic aspects that are common.

The process behind the painting "Tiny Virtues," started off with a ground color. I cover the whole canvas with a yellow ochre or gold acrylic paint and then allow it to dry.

My next step in this process is to take a dark oil color, a rich brown and cover the entire painting. I use walnut oil in my paint and make rich earthy brown syrup that glides over the canvas. When the whole painting is now brown, I then spray it down with water, and let the water bead up on the oily surface. I then take different types of paper, sometimes newsprint, sometimes heavier drawing paper and cover the wet painting, to let the paper absorb the paint and the water. As I pull the paper off the canvas, the paint is lifted as well and leaves behind a texture and the yellow is now glowing from behind the brown surface. There are shapes left behind from the water and the paper, due to the amount of pressure I applied to the surface. If I like what I see I leave it to dry for several days, or I keep working until I have the surface that I desire.

The next step in the piece "Tiny Virtues," is the ovals. I have created these ovals by a stencil (an index card where I drew and cut out the shapes I desired) I wanted to regulate the shapes, and making my own stencil seemed to make sense. I have dubbed these ovals "comfort shapes." I feel compelled to make these shapes, it seems like the most natural and comfortable shape my hand wants to draw. I have always loved pods, ovals, and any rounded organic shape. It seems like the shapes brings a peace and comfort to those who see them as well as those compelled to draw them. Sometimes these shapes represent feelings or hold the essence of something unspoken. I view them as little sentient beings; sometimes they can be isolated or flock together. Sometimes they are solemn or ghostly, while other times they are playful. I painted in the oval shapes with gold, and they have a texture of brush strokes with a bit of relief. I let these shapes dry.

The final step in the painting is the blue horizontal swaths of color across the piece. This is my favorite blue, and is created by mixing a blue and a brown together to create a luscious blue green that is rich and mysterious (I am always surprised that all my paintings aren't this blue as I love this special color so much). The blue paint is brushed on in a way that the stripes aren’t perfectly filled in, creating a sense of urgency. When this final step is done, I look at the painting and make sure it "clicks" for me. For me, the work needs to feel balanced, with all the elements involved getting their due and yet there is a mystery still unfolding. I like all my paintings to have a mysterious edge about them.

As the painting process ends, the titling process begins. I have to get to know the work awhile before the title emerges. I love words and I love atmosphere- and I try to convey that in my titles, while also alerting the viewer to an element of the painting that they might have missed just under the surface. I use the titles to create another layer of the mystery. This piece is titled "Tiny Virtues," and is all about the ovals. The painting is large, and there are lots of areas and textures that vie for the viewer’s attention, yet the ovals hover in the space caught by the blue bands, they are suspended. They are the tiny virtues. We often just see the larger picture, but floating in front of us are the tiny virtues. The little gifts in life, like fireflies, or some dark encapsulated beauty that is unnamed floating around us without our knowledge.

I hope you have enjoyed getting to know a little about my painting process and the piece "Tiny Virtues" as much as I have enjoyed sharing it with you.

"Tiny Virtues" is currently on view at Lacuna Modern Interiors located at 620 N. College Ave. in Fayetteville, Arkansas along with three other of my paintings. This piece is for sale through the DDP gallery in Fayetteville.