Tracking Patterns in Geometry

I had the opportunity in high school to take honors-level math classes. I think I was closer to the B- cutoff for eligibility than to the straight A's end of the spectrum, but I enjoyed the logical reasoning and quantitative calculation, liked my teachers, had terrific classmates, and loved doing homework over the phone with best friend Ann. 

Truth to tell, in addition to writing two-column proofs for such suppositions that if AX and BY bisect each other, then triangle AMB is congruent with triangle XMY, Ann and I kept a running multi-column chart on the inside covers of our respective math books in which we made daily entries of what color button-down Oxford shirt each boy in the class was wearing. Was there a pattern? Did they call each other the night before to coordinate?

Not sure what theorem we were aiming to prove!

With an affectionate nod to my glory days in math classes, I opted today to forego the characteristic freeform looping scribble of neuroart in favor of straight-edge lines that offered up geometric shapes. So many corners to round!

We Are Not in Control
4.5 x 6; ink, watercolors, acrylic, and oil pastel
on drawing paper
abstract
2022

Sweet Spot

Today marks the sweet spot of a three-week sweet spot that I celebrate every year. My son Scott's birthday falls on Earth Day. Exactly 21 days later … my birthday. 

In that little three-week span between late-ish April and nearly-mid-May, in my neck of the woods here in New England, Scott's birthday is marked by the first barely-there lime-green confetti-like evidence of tree leaves unfurling from buds. By my birthday lush foliage has made itself known and we find ourselves in a world made new, with canopies overhead and horizons brought close with maturing greenery that's filled the empty spaces of winter. 

Magic, I tell ya.

What better time—positioned as I am today at the midpoint of the transformation—to share the large canvas I've worked on sporadically over the past few months?

i thank you God for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
36 x 36"; acrylic, latex, oil pastel, and collage on canvas
abstract landscape
2022

Collaboration

Elizabeth Gilbert has this to say:

The only way an idea can be made manifest in our world is through collaboration with a human partner. It is only through a human's efforts that an idea can be escorted out of the ether and into the realm of the actual. Therefore, ideas spend eternity swirling around us, searching for available and willing human partners.

The teeniest little snippet of a stenciling demo posted by Jacqui Beck on Instagram swirled around me, searching. I was available, willing, off to experiment.

experimenting

Giddy

I continue flitting and whirling and skittering from one exploration to another. I am besotted with creating bare bones and then poking around to see where I might take the shapes and lines and connections that have emerged in front of me.

Bare bones.

Bare bones plus watercolor paints.

Made Giddy by the Brilliant Cacophonous Sunshine 4.5 x 6"; ink, watercolors, oil pastel, and acrylic on drawing paper abstract landscape 2022

Noodled by Doodling

I'm eager to research neurographica more fully and put into words what I learn, but right now I'm way too busy creating neurographica to research neurographica. I confess I am thoroughly noodled by doodling at the moment, totally hooked by the calming effects of rounding corners and the intriguing challenges of working within the given parameters of the form—no room in my brain for anything else.

In my first foray into this art form, I used markers for the color element. In today's exploration, colored pencils.

I Wander for the Sake of Wandering
4.5 x 6"; ink and colored pencil on drawing paper
abstract
2022

Smoothing Rough Edges

Wendy! Thank you for thinking of me when a friend of yours introduced you to the concept of neurographica, also called neurographic art.

More later on neurographica and what it is. 

For now, just two tidbits:

1. I made my first foray with granddaughters Caroline and Emmy over the weekend. 

Such a sweet time we had as we created side by side—sitting together at a table, simple art supplies strewn about us and changing hands repeatedly; companionable chatter, companionable stretches of silence, and companionable laughter filling the air waves.

2. Neurographica involves using your marker to round off all corners that occur in the intersecting lines of your doodle, a step taken with the body that smooths psychological rough edges. The best!

Gma's first foray

Caroline's first foray

Emmy's first foray

The Unexpected in the Intentional

I'm basking in bright, higher-in-the-sky-everyday sunlight streaming right now through a skylight onto my face.

I'm also basking in the unexpected that pops up out of the intentional when I paint. 

The intentional: I can't bear to wash away even a small bit of unused paint when I'm working in my studio so I very intentionally make use of it one way or another. Recently, I've been skittering from one project to another, playing with multiple tiny-art projects and one 36 x 36" canvas that's nearly finished. As I work on the tiny art, I inevitably end up with a bit of extra paint in my brush or on my palette and tiny paintings that would become overworked if I subjected them to any more paint. What I've ended up doing several times is taking the extra paint and finding a place for it in my evolving 36 x 36.

The unexpected: If not for the intent to waste no paint, I would never think to purposely use many of the colors I've been offloading to the 36 x 36, but I am bewitched and gladdened by the surprise of how that painting is coming alive.

detail, work in progress
unexpected pops of periwinkle!