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]

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.

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.

Unexpected, and as Expected

My day took an unexpected turn first thing this afternoon and I felt discombobulated, unfocused. I was off kilter internally and didn't feel sure I'd go to my studio.

Ha, ha!

Of course I went to my studio. What was I thinking? When did feeling sure ever have anything to do with studio time?

Pulled a third cut-up from my collection and ran with impulse and intuition.

Till tomorrow:

work in progress
4x5"; unstretched canvas
working title: q&q cut-up #3

Instead Of, 10/21/2017

Someone curious about my life as an artist might ask, You haven't always painted and blogged every day, have you?

Dotty: Nope.

Curious: So, that must take considerable time. There must be a whole bunch of ways you used to fill your time that you now don't?

Dotty: Ya got that right. Let me count the ways!

---

Holy mackerel. There are so many things I don't do that I might if I weren't painting.

Today (post written 10/21), for example, instead of vacuuming our lemon-drop-yellow room for guests, I fiddle around with a second q&q cut-up.

Instead of writing lesson plans, I rummage through accumulated paper to explore a collage idea.

Instead of loading the dishwasher, I get out matte medium and a brush.

Instead of rounding up supplies to make a photo display for Jay and Christine's wedding celebration, I now sit on my front porch in warm October afternoon sunlight writing this post, while a dozen wild turkeys walk from our neighbor's yard into ours.

Here's the cut-up I selected:

Here's a tease of my exploration with collage:

OK, off to the lemon-drop room.

Q&Q Cut-Up #1

On a deliciously warm sunny October day, I sneak a little studio time to bring my first quick & quixotic cut-up to completion.

When first extracted from the 16x20" whole, as a 4x5" part, it looked like this:

Now it looks like this:

Surface, Sky, Whirlpool, Wave
4x5", acrylic, ink, collage, and oil pastel on canvas,
mounted on manila card stock
abstract
2017
[gift]