The Go-Aheadness of It All

Here is another thing I like

about a good friendship,

the go-aheadness of it all.

You don’t have to knock

to come in the door.

You don’t have to ask

to look in the refrigerator.

You want coffee?

Pour some.

    —Elizabeth Berg, 

       Range of Motion

Two weeks ago, we headed to downeast Maine to hang out with can't-find-better friends John and Mary for a weekend of non-stop talk, lotsa laugh-out-loud, and lively long walks hither and yon. Sunday morning, early hours, I pulled out my sketchbook and got rolling with a mostly blind-contour drawing of a reading sofa and cushioned wicker chair in our guest accommodations. Blind contour is so deliciously wonky and satisfying.

early hours sketch

Want Coffee? Pour Some
7.5 x 8.5"; ink and watercolor pencils on paper
blind contour drawing
2023

Scrabbling

Scratching and groping. Scrabbling for some ineffable something. Scribbling as a way of getting there. 

Marrying sketchbook, scribbles, and neurographic skittering takes me right to sparks of discovery and the embrace of serendipitous serenity—a welcome antidote to hours spent earlier in whirling dervish internet nonsense, a cure for what had been ailing my artistic heart.

I brush aside the pesky temptation to keep playing with this piece. 

Let that play take place with another piece on another day.

Just Enough Gleanable Information to
Provide Clues and Permit Guesses
7 x 10.5"; acrylic and ink on sketchbook paper
neurographic scribble
2022

Embracing Unsteady

I have a 9 x 12" Cachet sketchbook. No memory of when or why I purchased it. I can see that I filled about 5 of its pale gray pages with notes and thought exercises two and a half years ago following the lead of an artist I'd discovered online. I don't think I purchased the sketchbook for that purpose, though, and I jumped ship on those exercises in less than a week.

Starting in July of this year, I began painting in the sketchbook.

I like painting in a sketchbook currently; I like having the work become a spiral-bound visual diary. I feel a little more experimental and exploratory painting in a sketchbook than on stand-alone substrates.

Though not experimental and exploratory enough, asserts an inner voice.

Enough that I am wildly unsteady on my feet, I retort.

Perfect.

working title:
She Wobbles on Shoes With Tall Heels
9 x 12"; acrylic, ink, oil pastels, and watercolor chalks
on paper
abstract floral
2022

Ill-Defined

The word tumult comes to mind, so I look it up. Top definition refers to loud confused noise. Nope, that's not what I'm looking for. Second definition references confusion and disorder. Closer, but not really on target. I look next at chaos. In a state of complete confusion and disorder. 

Hmm, what's the word for partial confusion and disorder? What's the suffix that would indicate of or pertaining to confusion and disorder? Tumultish? Chaotious?

My current internal and external circumstances feel confused and disordered but, in truth, they are not without some clarity and systems.

I can't find the precise word I want.

I feel ill-defined.

In any case, here's what emerges in stolen moments over the course of at least two weeks when I open my sketchbook and put art supplies of one sort or another into my hands.

Even If You Was Made to Do Bad Stuff, You Don't Have to For Ever
9 x 12"; acrylic, watercolor, ink, oil pastel, and collage on paper
abstract
2022

Seein' Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard

Well I'm on my way

I don't know where I'm going

I'm on my way

I'm taking my time but I don't know where

—Paul Simon

All true:

• I'm on my way,

• I don't know where I'm going, and

• I'm taking my time.

Also true:

• This piece did not go at all where I thought it might; and

• I'm grateful to be working in a sketchbook because it frees me up to go more easily wherever a painting takes me.

Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard
7 x 10"; acrylic and ink in sketch book
abstract
2022

Inviting the Universe's Highest Plan

Yeah.

Wasn't getting there under my 'own' steam.

Invited outrageous openness.

Got out of the way.

Went about my business.

And then some days later found myself in my studio finger-painting.

Grateful.

work in progress; 
finger-painting with acrylic in sketchbook

  

Redirection

You know how we don't talk about retirement anymore? We talk about redirection?

I'm ready to redirect as a distortionist. I'm already having grand fun spiffing up my résumé.

First, a teaser before the actual reveal—art every which way I turn:

back side of sketchbook page—love it!

Now, the flip side:

The Whole Thing Was Slung a Little Askew
Like a Dog Half-Minded to Lie Down
9x12"; ink, dry-erase marker, and oil pastel on sketchbook paper
blind contour still life
2022

Musical

Gigi, My Fair Lady, Kiss Me Kate, Pajama Game, Fiddler on the Roof. 

Many musicals have won their way into my heart over the years, starting when I was maybe nine years old.

The past few months have felt artistically musical to me. 

As in: muse-ical. 

I've been open to letting muses lead me where they will.

And they are leading me all over the place. To no place I would have thought of on my own.

To my delight.

Over the weekend we visited friends John and Mary in the magical bit of land they call home along the coast of Maine. I woke Saturday morning, early hours, when a muse invited me to do a down-and-dirty-done-in-five-minutes blind contour sketch of a chair and large potted floor plant in our sweet guest accommodations. This is the blindest blind contour of my recent work. Footloose and fancy free.

blind contour wonkiness and wonder

Basic sketch in place, I then began rounding all the corners where lines intersected. I am fascinated by the alchemy that comes from combining blind contour sketching and neurographic smoothing. 

blind contour neurographic alchemy

Back at home I added a few lines, tried something that felt like a mistake, introduced color to resolve the misstep, found myself humming show tunes. 

work in progress

Off to the Races

Late afternoon rolls around and I find myself antsy, itching to create something.

Anything. 

I grab a sketchbook last used in February 2019 and tape off the edges of a page to form a border. Then I grab a pen, park myself in front of my bedroom dresser, and impulsively start blind-contour drawing a ceramic bowl and carafe that sit on the dresser-top. 

In no time, I'm off to the races, running full tilt, shifting from one location to another in my bedroom and office, simultaneously rotating the sketchbook as I go. I draw whatever catches my eye: a ceramic pencil holder, a timer, plants in a tin container, a notebook's spiral binding, a bottle of body lotion, part of a postcard—all on the same page. I look at the page only to give myself starting points. I'm a whirling dervish!

Until     I     slow    way    down.

I pivot from impulsive and improvisational to deliberate and focused, fusing all the linework from the frenetic blind-contour drawing with neurographic smoothing.

Eventually I step back, fascinated to see an abstract "circuit board" capturing on paper the pure pleasure of fully engaged process.

---

Now what?

No idea.

work in progress
9 x 12"; ink on drawing paper

In Like a Lion

A week or two ago I put paint on a page in my sketchbook. After a short while, what sat before me was irritatingly ugly.

I cut the page in half. Hoped to extract a pleasing composition.

Nope.

Irritating. Ugly.

I picked it up today. So little lost if I tossed it—a 4x5" patch of paint on paper.

But, really, throw away a start?

Now, a postcard on its way to my dad : )

Tell the Stories that Come Through You One Day at a Time
4 x 5" postcard; acrylic, collage, and pastel on watercolor paper
abstract
2019

A New Playground

A Stillman & Birn Beta Series Premium Sketchbook, softcover edition, suitable for dry and wet media, watercolor, and ink, found its way to me some few months ago.

And now I have rediscovered it and begun to play.

Today: spontaneous, free-flowing, intuitive, engrossing play.

Despite the Ungodly Hour
6x9"; acrylic and pastel on mixed media paper
abstract landscape
2019

Sketchbook

I love looking through artists' sketchbooks. I'm intrigued by the many ways artists use them as part of their creative practice.

Off and on, I think about starting a sketchbook of my own.

But I never bring action to intention.

Today, I looked at Core Values, my huge sheet of foam core with its grid format, and saw it for what it is.

A sketchbook!

newest patch painted onto grid-format work-in-progress

underpainting for today's patch

offloaded paint from today's patch

detail from today's patch

today's patch as seen in the context
of the whole work in progress;
working title: Core Values