Introducing Slapstick

Slapstick.

The word bubbled up this morning out of who knows where.

Followed by these words: slap it on, let it stick.

I grabbed yesterday's postcard start, worked quickly, slap, slap, slap. Messed stuff up right and left, let it stick. Wanted to dribble paint. Dribbled paint.

Done.

Don't love it, but I'm lettin' it stick.

Slapstick
4x5"; acrylic, latex, collage, ink, and pencil on heavy manila stock
abstract
2017
[gift]

Beggars Still on Foot

Feels as though houseguests just left, or I just finished a book, or I just emptied the dishwasher and put the kitchen to bed for the night. Something has ended—a visit, or a story, or a day's work.

Or two months' worth of working on a series of a dozen paintings.

Now, something new begins.

Yesterday I reported my intention to clean up my studio. Though I didn't say so, I also had the idea to both let a few days unfold without painting and to shift gears to a larger scale when I did pick up my brush again.

As the saying goes, if wishes were horses, then beggars would ride.

As I say, hahahahahahahahaha!

In other words: (a) my studio remains riotously out of control, and (b) I started a new painting a few minutes ago—(c) a small one.

Felt great! I acted on impulse, worked quickly and for a brief time only, have no idea where I'll go with this.

work in progress

Quick & Quixotic, A Retrospective

Here I offer a little retrospective of my Quick & Quixotic painting/series.

Starting with a 12x16" piece of unstretched canvas, I made marks, pasted collage, painted, and continued doing more of the same until I reached the following seascape.

working title: Quick & Quixotic

Then, I cut the work-in-progress into ten smaller pieces.

working title: Quick & Quixotic Cut-Ups

From there, I took the ten smaller pieces, one of which I cut even further into half-inch-square tiles, and developed twelve completed paintings, most of which—woo hoo!—turned out to be happy explorations that pleased my eye. I fought hard on many days with one challenge, or two, or ten, but numerous little moments of grace made themselves known in paint. I am so grateful.

Surface, Sky, Whirlpool, Wave

Helpers of Each Other in All the Chances and Changes in the World

Sleeping in the Room with the Drying Herbs

 A Hooked Rug of Fabric Scraps, Rose and Green and Purple

A Happenso Bookmark

They Sat Drinking Hot Cider

For Five Minutes She Suspended Judgment and Fell Silent

I Did Have a Trouble or Two on My Mind

An Awkward Place Full of Awkward Questions

The Patter of Rain on Windowpanes

The Good Order of the Toolshed

It Had a Beginning That It Had Forgotten

It was two months ago (yikes, two months!) that I took note of a strong desire to paint quickly, freely, and without giving a hoot, and, in response, started painting—quickly, freely, and without giving a hoot. The painting's working title became the now familiar Quick & Quixotic, a.k.a. q&q. 

More often than not, though, over the course of those two months (again I say, yikes, two months!), I found myself painting other than in the carefree, paint-faster-than-your-mind-can-think mode I wished for. 

And still wish for.

I'm going to clean up my studio and see what happens next.

Alternating Current/ Q&Q Cut-Up #12

I'm no scientist but as I worked on the final three pieces of my Quick & Quixotic 'series' I think there's a chance I may have been powered by alternating current, i.e. electrical current which periodically reverses direction.

For certain, I was not powered by energy that flows in only one direction. 

I was all over the place.

Further, there must have been a huge amount of energy that needed discharging because why else would I have persisted with pieces that bedeviled, frustrated, and otherwise exasperated the living daylights out of me in process? 

I was the one generating these fool's errands to begin with, for Pete's sake! 

I could have pulled the plug at any time.

Did I?

I did not.

At the moment, I am running on low voltage—and happily so. I have completed the series.

And, I've thrown away the remaining half-inch canvas tiles!

It Had a Beginning That It Had Forgotten
4x5"; acrylic, latex, canvas collage tiles, and oil pastel on paper
abstract
2017

Q&Q Cut-Up #11

Seven weeks ago, I was about three days into starting a 12x16" painting adventure.

Today, four square inches of that early-stages work-in-progress—long since transformed beyond recognition, and chopped into tiny canvas tiles in the process—strut their stuff in an entirely different composition.

I don't know where this stuff comes from.

The Good Order of the Toolshed
5x5"; acrylic, latex, canvas tiles, collage, ink, watercolor pencil, and oil pastel on paper
abstract
2017

Thankful

I read a novel by Jan Karon years ago in which Episcopalian minister Father Tim focuses one Sunday on a passage from the Bible whose message is to give thanks in all circumstances.

My memory of that part of the book may be wildly off the mark, but that's of no concern. The gift I received was the invitation to give thanks no matter what.

No matter what.

Really?

That is a radical idea.

I don't always remember to practice what Father Tim brought to my attention, but I inevitably enter a better space when I do.

My prayer of gratitude is this today: I am grateful—even if I don't know why (I don't), and even if I don't feel grateful (I don't)—for the struggle and the not-knowing and the self-questioning I experienced while engaged with this work in progress today.

work in progress
5x5"; canvas tiles and paper
working title: q&q cut-up #10b

I Know, I Know / Q&Q Cut-Up #10

I tried and tried to find a background color that would offer pop and liveliness as the 'grout,' so to speak, behind half-inch canvas tiles I had cut from quick & quixotic cut-up #10.

The top and bottom portions (sky, water) of cut-up #10 worked fine together when they were juxtaposed in the context of a single painting, but they became lackluster—at best—as tiles.

What worked as contrast or complement behind the sky tiles did not work at all behind the water tiles, and vice versa. If you've been following along for the past few days, you've seen.

I know, I know. Why did I even cut a 4x5" work-in-progress into dozens of dramatically smaller half-inch squares to begin with? 

I don't have an answer.

However, as aggravating as the self-created challenge has proved to be (and stay tuned … I may yet toss the remaining tiles in the trash), I sure have learned a bunch empirically. Plus, I now have at hand three sheets of awesome collage paper that were way fun to paint—a decent net gain in yardage, to call up my football imagery again.

Eventually I sidestepped my search for a color contrast, glued sixteen tiles on an essentially white background instead, scribbled some monochromatic watercolor pencil on the page, and then flung monochromatic latex house paint from a small applicator. 

The play suddenly came together! Touchdown!

I added a few teeny little hints of oil pastel.

Scored the extra point.

Now I'm dancing a happy dance in the end zone.

[Only 66 more tiles left!]

The Patter of Rain on Windowpanes
4x5"; acrylic, latex, and oil pastel, and canvas-tile collage on paper,
mounted on heavy card stock
abstract
2017
[gift]

Forfeit

The players never even showed up for practice today.

They want a different coach.

---

The good news is they said I could keep the 'field'—i.e. another terrific piece of hand-painted collage paper!

hand-painted collage paper
9x12", acrylic, water color pencil, and oil pastel on drawing paper

Pass Intercepted

Another fabulous field.



---

Same team as yesterday, same play.

Pass intercepted.

No score.



---

Same team, different play.

Flag down on the field.

Penalty.

Still no score.



Practice scheduled again for tomorrow.

Throwing a Pass

Well, it's football season—maybe that's why I played around with a gridiron format today?

I think the coach has additional plays in the playbook, but here's the one that the team ran in practice today.

work in progress
4x5"; unstretched canvas
working title: q&q cut-up #10

Awesome field, don'tcha think?

Q&Q Cut-Up #9

Experimental tangent today.

An Awkward Place Full of Awkward Questions
4x5"; acrylic, latex, collage, and oil pastels on unstretched canvas,
mounted on card stock
abstract
2017
[gift]

Q&Q Cut-Up #8

I am in medias res, in the middle of—and I mean really right in the confounding mucky impenetrable middle of—an ongoing cyber snafu I have yet to resolve. Anxiety, or worry, or frustration, or whatever the heck the feeling is, crowds my mind like something physical—something dark and weighty lodged in my head.

But I laughed out loud a short while ago, knowing I'd found a title for today's painting when I saw the words I did have a trouble or two on my mind in a novel I was reading!

I Did Have a Trouble or Two on My Mind 
4x5"; pencil, ink, acrylic, latex, and pastels on unstretched canvas
abstract
2017
[gift]

Keeping the Barns Full / Q&Q Cut-Up #7

A passage in the middle of the lightest of carefree novels, Miss Buncle Married, by D.E. Stevenson, jumped right off the page and into my artist's heart recently, carrying with it depth and resonance in abundance—enough and to spare:

…  the truth is that authors have no idea at all how or where they garner their harvest. The harvest is garnered by some busy imp that watches and garners daily, hourly, keeping the barns full, so that when the day of threshing comes, and the wheat is winnowed from the chaff, there shall always be enough and to spare for the making of the bread.

I actually do have an idea where my busy imp harvested a handful here and a handful there, keeping my barns full so I could make a little bread today. Thank you, Betty Krause, Jane Davies, and Simone Nijboer, for planting seeds.

For Five Minutes She Suspended Judgment of the World and Fell Silent
4x5"; acrylic, ink, collage, and oil pastel on unstretched canvas,
mounted on card stock
abstract landscape
2017
[gift]

A Day in November / Q&Q Cut-Up #6

I am grateful today—not for the first time—for the deep pleasure of creating art, for the direct give and take of my hands and eyes and canvas and glue and paint and ink and inner and outer universes.

Can't say the same for certain cyber circumstances and snafus but, hey!, look where that ugly-painting-day piece from Thursday took itself.

They Sat Drinking Hot Cider
4x5"; pencil, ink, acrylic, and collage on unstretched canvas,
mounted on card stock
abstract
2017
[gift]

Surrender

I didn't offer (much) resistance to the outcome of my studio time yesterday.

I didn't like the outcome—definite ugly painting day, to my way of thinking—but I both valued it and allowed it to be yesterday's self-expression.

Because, really, what else could it be, anyway?

Today: movement.

Same piece of canvas, "same" person painting. But, movement in a new direction. I love the torn edges of the collage.

work in progress
4x5"; unstretched canvas
working title: q&q cut-up #6

Outer Eye, Inner Eye

My outer eye says, What on earth is that? Total fail.

My inner eye says, Oh. My. Gosh. You nailed it! You have painted a perfect representation of who you are right here and right now. There you are, in paint, on paper. 

---

Alrighty then. Glad I got that out of my system.

work in progress
4x5"; unstretched canvas
working title: q&q cut-up #6

I Wonder / Q&Q Cut-Up #5

Where does art come from?

I hold the question in wonder.

But I don't need an answer.

Wasn't here two days ago.

Is here today.

Happens over and over again.

A Happenso Bookmark
1.5x6" bookmark; acrylic, pencil, ink, collage, and oil pastel on unstretched canvas,
mounted on heavy card stock
abstract
2017

Scrappy

I work on another bookmark today, a scrappy little one.

I scissored Quick & Quixotic into 10 pieces in October, and this morning the second of two narrow cut-ups pushes itself into my field of vision, as does a bunch of rectilinear scraps that had become paper 'tiles' in the service of an entirely different studio undertaking.

I decide to run with what's calling out to me.

I puzzle over how to bring a skinny, muted, kinda blah strip of unstretched painted canvas together with slick black & white tiles from a printed postcard that had featured strong graphic design.

blah strip of canvas

I fiddle with glazing medium and a catalyst tool to add texture to the canvas. I add color with a matte knife.

work in progress
1.5x6"; unstretched canvas
working title: q&q cut-up #5

I snip, arrange, and reconfigure the bold black & white tiles. Then I push all the tiles aside. 

I set everything on a tray and opt to let the gathered elements percolate overnight.

Start Where You Stand / Q&Q Cut-Up #4

Napoleon Hill's directive is to start where you stand.

Gotcha.

Here's where I stood, where I started:

Here's where I stand now, with a bookmark and a gift tag:

A Rug of Hooked Fabric Scraps, Rose and Green and Purple
1.5x6" bookmark; acrylic, pencil, ink, collage, and oil pastel on unstretched canvas,
mounted on heavy card stock
abstract
2017
[gift]

1.75x1.75" gift tag

Haiku inscribed on back of bookmark:

Start where you stand, on

a rug of hooked fabric scraps,

dance the live-long day.

Do Not Wait

In 1937, early American self-help writer Napoleon Hill published Think and Grow Rich. Much of the book's content focuses on increased income, but what caught my ear when I learned about the book in a segment on NPR, and what Hill himself insisted was a philosophy that could help people succeed in any line of work, and do and be anything they could imagine, was his saying:

Do not wait: the time will never be 'just right.' Start where you stand, and work whatever tools you may have at your command, and better tools will be found as you go along.

That's my art life! I start where I stand in any given moment and work with whatever I've got.

I have to say, though, I hope to find 'better tools' tomorrow! Today I started playing with another one of my quick and quixotic cut-ups and just could not get into a groove.

Work in progress, work in progress.

work in progress
4x5"; unstretched canvas
working title: q&q cut-up #4

Stopping in at Camp Briefly

Blink!

Where did August go? And September? And now October?

Back in August I set up some painting starts to take to camp for an inquiry into using negative space.

The earlier history of one of those starts:

8x10"

One quarter of the above:

4x5"

Last seen (and never posted here, I just realized) looking like this, still back in August:

Revisited yesterday and today, and now mounted on matte board, ready to head to a new home:

Grandma Moses Hangs Towels on the Clothesline at Camp
4x5"; acrylic, grease pencil, collage, ink, pastel pencil,
and oil pastel on canvas paper,
mounted on 8.5x11" matte board
abstract
2017
[gift]

Haiku on the back:

Inner tube, inner

life, laughter, Camp Takodah

gives rise to friendship.

Q&Q Cut-Up #3

A quotation caught my eye at the library today, something 'prodigiously talented and successful musician' Leonard Bernstein evidently once said:

To achieve great things, two things are needed: 

a plan and not quite enough time.

My plan is to show up every day in my studio … and I never have quite enough time.

Perfect!

Way, way, way back on September 22, I started scribbling on a piece of 16x20" unstretched canvas with a PaperMate pencil, a grease pencil, pastel pencils, and a graphite crayon.

Working a few minutes at a time over the course of many of the days between then and now, I eventually cut the work in progress into eight pieces, one of which became the 'starting' point—so to speak—of today's completed painting.

Sleeping in the Room with the Drying Herbs
4x5"; pencil, pastel pencil, ink, and acrylic on unstretched canvas
abstract
2017

I love the softnesses and breathing space in this piece.