In the Lab

the creative adventure  

of any one painting

even if

declared complete 

cannot be separated 

from the ongoing 

never-to-be-completed 

work-in-progress 

of becoming the artist 

I am 

(always) 

becoming.

Be the Mad Scientist of Your Own Life,
Each Experiment One in Meaning-Making and Discomfort-Embracing
7 x 8.5"; acrylic, oil pastel, and collage on paper
abstract scribble inquiry
2023

A Little Smile of Discovery

I took Nicholas Wilton's 2023 Art2Life Free Online Workshop this past week, during which several live painting demonstrations took place. 

The funny part was that in one case I found myself becoming one with the artist at hand doing the demo. As she made certain marks that created instant impact—most often because of very pleasing contrast, my own (empty) hand involuntarily stayed in motion continuing to make more and more of those dynamic marks … even when she did not!

I broke into a little smile of discovery. I have new insight into how some of my paintings turn into chaos that leaves me not knowing how to navigate. I now see new choices about how to direct my energy. With any given painting, I might choose to put no brakes on making marks that are exciting to my eye, for the sheer joy of expressing myself in that way, end result be damned! But I might not. I might choose to limit or subtract some of my runaway mark-making for greater impact to see what I learn. Win, win.

Fun!

All the Living We've Ever Done Happened in Some Now
7 x 8.5"; acrylic, oil pastel, and collage on paper
abstract scribble inquiry
2023

Stuck, Unstuck

Jan Frazier writes in a recent teaching:

That word reality tends to be surrounded

by unwelcome associations and feelings.

Isn't that telling?

The last thing many a person wants

is to be reminded of reality.

And yet what gets called spiritual liberation

is about coming at last

to rest in what is real.

Imagine:

that relaxing into the truth of things,

without recoiling,

is utterly peace-inducing.

Yesterday, I could not for the life of me relax into the truth of things—the truth that I didn't like the paintings-in-progress in my studio, that I couldn't make sense of what I as doing nor where I was going, that I didn't know what to do to fix the messes, that the paintings weren't going to resolve on their own, that I had to find the courage to take a step, that I had to risk whatever would unfold. I could feel recoil and resistance in my body. Discouragement. Fear. 

I was stuck.

---

And then I wasn't.

I awoke (awakened!) this morning relaxed in the truth of things. By early afternoon I took that peace-inducing relaxation into my studio and began playing.

I'm Saying We Don't Have Forever. For Anything.
7 x 8.5"; acrylic, graphite, pencil, pastel, and collage on paper
abstract scribble inquiry
2023

The Layered Look

I have to laugh sometimes at how many gosh-darned layers I wear in winter, not just for outdoor walks that require SO much more time than popping my feet into flip flops in the summer and heading out the door in seconds but also just to stay warm IN THE HOUSE!

I guess my extended series is wanting to stay warm in winter also. Otherwise, why would I be dressing them up in layers?

detail photos of cozying up in collage

 

A Series, in Spite of Myself!

My history with painting in series is on the sparse side, but lookie this! A series of four!

Third in a Series

I am once again mesmerized and astonished by the creative process. I take my very limited palette of acrylics and mix up various combinations, apply several masses of color onto paper with brushes, scribble with pens and pencils, trim the edges of the paper, and collage a few found bits and bobs into place. 

Any "thinking" I do en route is fully abstract, completely apart from representing concrete realities or specific objects. Intuition is the driver, and its attention rests solely—and with the lightest of touches—on color, contrast, and composition.

So how is it that now, in viewing shape, scribble, and collage, I feel story tickling the back of my mind? How is it that I see wheels, snow, shadows, cart tracks, a wooden hay wagon of the sort that would be horse-drawn? How is it that I feel the sharp bite of dry winter air? Hear the squeak and crunch of weight breaking through an icy surface of snow?

Where does this stuff come from!

Step Back, Crouch Down, and Walk Around Everything
5 x 7"; acrylic, ink, pencil, graphite,
oil pastel, and collage on paper
abstract scribble study
2023