But That's Just Scribbles

My mom's friend Lida tells me, sometime after my mom's death, the story of sharing some of her whimsical colorful art with my mom who responds with, "But that's just scribbles," or something along those lines.

Well, Yes, Mom! Scribbles! Art doesn't get any better! 

Artist Jane Davies writes a blog post about scribbling yesterday. Her scribbles and her post are compelling, and off I go to my studio this afternoon realizing I might be able to make use of some painted scribbles that hadn't worked for a project I had in mind. Maybe I could capitalize on them now.

To my surprise I have a little trouble finding my groove but soon enough I am totally in flow. Off to the races with heart-opening scribbles. Hot damn! 

I want a stretch knit sheath dress with a little sheen and exquisite drape created with this scribble as its print.

The Best Conversation She's Overheard
Since She Started Waitressing
3.5 x 5"; acrylic, ink, charcoal, and charcoal pencil
on canvas paper
abstract/scribbles
2022

Faces 17

When I'm ten years old, my family moves to the Netherlands for two years as part of my dad's job. More than once we drive to Schiphol Airport in Amsterdam to pick up family or friends who come to visit. On at least one of those occasions, when a flight is significantly delayed, my folks opt to visit the Rijksmuseum to fill the interim before we return to Schiphol. This might be my first visit to an art museum. 

What a place to begin! I have vivid memories of the paintings of the Dutch masters whose works hang in the galleries there, dark dark backgrounds but with strong light illuminating faces and other details. I remember being drawn in to those paintings to explore them.

Now, all these years later, I am taking an Amanda Evanston art-of-abstract-faces course, and lesson 2 turns attention to what has become known as "Rembrandt lighting." 

Way cool idea, but I study my chaos-layer-plus-blind-contour-drawing-start and think, Rembrandt?, really?

I can't imagine how I will complete this painting.

chaos-layer-plus-blind-contour-drawing-start

But I don't need to imagine its completion. I need to make a mark. So I do. I let it inform my eye, then make another mark, and another, and then—awesome!—I'm totally in flow.

The Friend Who Takes the Bus from NYC
to Surprise Me With a Visit in College
9 x 12"; acrylic, ink, and oil pastel on drawing paper
abstract face
2021
$70

I'm guessing Rembrandt had to start by making marks of some sort also.

Faces 13

Years ago—maybe as many as 30? is that possible?!—I jotted a postcard to my friend Stu, whom I'd met at Takodah family camp in NH at least 10 years prior to jotting said postcard, to ask what kind of pen he'd been using at camp that August to doodle in his pocket sketch book.

A week or 10 days later, I found an empty water bottle in my mailbox and wondered who'd picked up street litter and placed it in with my mail. 

But, ha! This was no litter. It was an 'envelope' inside of which sat a small bit of paper with the pen info I'd requested from Stu.

Even though "OMG" was not yet in the common vernacular, my internal reaction was, O.M.G! My immediate next thought was, Two can play at this game!

And I was off and running, viewing correspondence by mail in a whole new light. WAY fun.

The Friend Who Uses an Enamaled Spoon
as a Postcard
9 x 12"; acrylic, ink, and pastel on drawing paper
abstract face
$45
sold

Faces 12

Is there a genetic marker related to political interest, intelligence, and aptitude? If so, I am missing that gene. 

I am just not, by nature, a political creature. Never have been.

The Friend Who Gives Me a Crash Course
on Current Events at Lunch So I Can Pass 
My Sixth Period Honors History Quiz
9 x 12"; acrylic, ink, and collage on drawing paper
abstract face
2021
$45

Complete vs. Completed

I see this piece as an outward manifestation of a burst of inward tumult. It is not a completed painting. That would be something different. It is what I'd call a complete self-expression.

The inward tumult has passed through, as inward tumults do. It is complete. It has, however, left a vapor trail, traces of having blown past.

Most likely I will pick up this scrappy, rough, hand-me-down canvas again sometime and do something else with it. For now, perched on my dresser, it provides refreshing 'visual cacophony' in my bedroom.

The Cacophony of Birds at Dawn
16 x 20"; acrylic, latex, ink, collage, and oil pastel on canvas
abstract
2018

Who knew?

Remember that day last week when I felt like I had a mesh cage in my chest?

Look at what I discovered with a slight shift in perception.

took this

rotated it

ended up with this revised patch on my grid-format work-in-progress

detail from revised patch

revised patch in the 'big picture,'
working title: Core Values