On My Nightstand, on My Easel (10)

On my nightstand

I've learned to be wary 
of those times
when I think I know 
what I'm doing.
I've discovered 
that my best work
comes from 
the uncomfortable
but fruitful
feeling of not having a clue—
of being worried,
secretly afraid,
even convinced
that I'm on the wrong
track.

Dani Shapiro, Still Writing


On my easel

detail
work in progress, 20 days in, 5/8/20
24 x 48" on canvas

detail
work in progress, 20 days in, 5/8/20
24 x 48" on canvas

On My Nightstand, on My Easel (8)

On my nightstand

Think of a ballet dancer
at the barre.
Plié, 
elevé, 
battement tendu.
She is practicing,
because she knows
that there is no difference
between practice and art.
The practice
is
the art.

Dani Shapiro, Still Writing


On my easel

detail with dictionary collage
work in progress, 18 days in, 5/6/20
24 x 48" canvas

On My Nightstand, on My Easel (7)

On my nightstand

Straining to know the whole of the story before you set out 
is a bit like imagining great-grandchildren on a first date. 
But you can start with the smallest detail. 
Give us the gravel scattering along the highway 
as the pickup truck roars past. 
The crumb of food the wife wipes from her husband's beard. 
The ripped bottom of a girl's faded jeans. 
Anchor yourself somewhere—
anywhere—
on the page. 
You are committing, yes—
but the commitment is to this tiny corner. 
One word. 
One image. 
One detail. 
Go ahead. 
Then see what happens.

Dani Shapiro, Still Writing


On my easel

detail
work in progress, 16 days in, 5/4/20
24 x 48" canvas

The River of Not Knowing / Q&Q Cut-Up #2

Had no idea where this painting would go when I began, but I stepped into the river of not knowing and let myself move with the current.

Jay and Christine had no idea where their first date in December 2004 would go either, but they stepped into the river of not knowing … and on Saturday we celebrated their wedding. The best!

Helpers of Each Other in All the Chances and Changes in the World
4x5"; acrylic, ink, pencil, collage, and pastels on unstretched canvas,
mounted on painted wood
abstract
2017
[gift]

Christine read a passage by John Muir when she and Jay exchanged vows; I composed a haiku from those words and inscribed them on the back of the painting:

Every bird song,

wind song, storm song, water song

is ours, sings our love.

Engaged Unpredictability

Being all in and staying the course without any guarantees …

Engaged unpredictability is the term Rhode Island School of Design president Rosanne Somerson uses. In a message to alumni in RISD XYZ Spring/Summer 2017 (thanks for sharing the magazine, Carol), she asserts that engaged unpredictability is the starting point for positive transformation. 

My experience with painting The Plainspoken Beauty of the Place is well captured in Somerson's message as she makes reference to a particular drawing assignment she gives students:

Time and again, right after [an] "antsy" point of total frustration, something completely unexpected … emerge[s]. When the body [is] forced to sit still and persevere, the brain [takes] over, spewing out new possibilities.

Yes!

The "force" to persevere came from my own curiosity and commitment, but I sure did get antsy with frustration, discomfort, and flagging spirits more than once.

But then.

Then.

Something transformatively different came into play and I scrambled to keep up with the possibilities playing out through my paintbrush.

Way cool.

The Plainspoken Beauty of the Place
12x24"; acrylic, collage, ink, pencil, and pastels on canvas
abstract landscape
2017

---

a brief history:

    

One Degree

I am fascinated by how huge an uplift in spirit the littlest shift in orientation can create.

Something transposes maybe 1º, maybe even less, and suddenly I am all flow and intuition again.

At a surface level I don't know where I am or what I'm doing any more than I did two days ago, but now I find myself accessing a wordless, mind-less inner knowing that propels me forward with engagement, working as if in a different world altogether from the one where I usually reside.

Details of that inner knowing:

Is That a Clearing?

After bushwhacking with varying degrees of good humor for several days now, I think I spy a clearing ahead.

Hot damn!

My step feels lighter, my heart lifts, I hear myself humming a tune.

Not home yet, but here are some details from the thick of things:

Halting, Stammering, Tripping

I am

halting,

stammering,

tripping over my own paintbrush,

dysfluent,

stuttering,

herky-jerky,

stopping and starting,

faltering,

lacking direction,

painting anyway

and

any way.

investigative work in progress 7/26/17

Ongoing Investigation

Rainy day.

Some temporary found compositions from my ongoing investigation:

investigative detail

investigative detail

investigative detail

investigative detail

Esso

My dad worked as a chemical engineer for Esso for his entire work career. Now, even though my dad retired decades ago, when my sisters and I visit him in Maine we love eating our servings of store-brand espresso chip ice cream from china coffee cups bearing the Esso logo.

Wait. What?

Gesso?

You asked about gesso?

Oh.

Yes, I used gesso to paint over my current work in progress last evening.

Great fun. Spread it loosely over the whole canvas, scribbled in it with a stylus, pressed a stencil or two into the wet paint, went to bed.

investigative work in progress 7/24/17

investigative detail

investigative detail

investigative detail

12/24", Day 3

I don't know if I have any memories specific to my being three years old, but I channeled my three-year-old self today in my studio.

I let her pick up whatever paint/glue/stencil/marker/ink/brush/collage caught her eye, let her do whatever the heck she wanted on both canvases.

Once or twice she looked over her shoulder but no one stopped her so she just kept playing, getting wide-eyed at the surprises that appeared and disappeared.

12/24" #1 and #2, work in progress

A Few Minutes in my Studio

Today, only a few minutes available for painting, and I enjoy them thoroughly.

I round up one of my two 12/24" starts, a foam brush, quinacridone azo-gold paint, and a spray bottle, and I let them take me where they take me. No particular place I have to be, plenty of quiet both inwardly and on canvas.

12/24" #1, work in progress