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.

Call and Response

I love this kind of piece. I love this very particular piece.

It started as a free-form release of energy after I completed an intensive online class last fall. I let go with color and shape, line and scribble, paint and pencil, ink and stencil all over a 9/12" sheet of paper. Then I cut the page into 9 pieces.

Over the past six months I've picked up one and then another of the pieces to develop them to completion. Several remain.

This week I selected one from the remaining and engaged in call and response: the painting would call out in some way, I'd respond, it'd call, I'd respond. At least once, I let the piece sit overnight before I could hear any call, offer any response. Bit by bit, it came together. I added collage. Had to sit awhile longer to see if I'd finished.

In the end, I impulsively picked up a texture sheet, spread a touch of paint on it with my finger, and stamped it in several places.

Risky.

But the right move. Suddenly the painting was singing its own song and it was time then to select card stock and mounting paper.

From a casual beginning, with no idea how it would unfold, this painting became a card to celebrate a wedding. And isn't that how a relationship becomes a marriage? With color and scribble, attention to one thing and then another, call and response, occasional overnight refrigeration, multiple micro-decisions, impulsivity, risk, no real idea how it'll all unfold, and singing its own song?

Oh, Honey!
2.75/3.5", acrylic, ink, pencil, pastel, and collage on drawing paper,
mounted on card stock
abstract
2017
[gift]