Slapstick 12/5/17

Today: way more than five minutes, fewer than 60.

Pretty fast, yes?

A little slapstick joke there. Broad comedy, ya know?

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Had great fun with yesterday's piece so I cut yesterday's entire start into postcard size pieces. Some will become fodder for collage with which to turn all the others into finished pieces.

Willing to Do the Grunt Work
4x5"; acrylic, grease pencil, and collage on paper,
mounted on card stock
abstract
2017

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Favorite orientation?

Slapstick 12/4/17

Slap, slap, slap.

Snip, snip, snip.

Oh, wait.

This is a slapstick inquiry, not a slapsnip inquiry.

Too late.

Not only too late to backtrack but also too late to rewind the clock and claim that I worked quickly, although I did generate a 9x12" start and bring to completion a 4x5" piece this afternoon.

After slapping:

acrylic and china marker on 12x16" paper;
WIP

I cut two 4x5" postcards from the start above, and then snipped pieces from one card to collage onto the other.

After snipping and sticking:

No One in Town Wanted Dr. Byron's Counsel
4x5"; acrylic, china marker, and collage on paper,
mounted on heavy manila stock
abstract
2017

Slapstick, an Inquiry

I've been experiencing pronounced inner turmoil in my painting practice of late. I'm hoping the situation will prove to be like occasions I remember from when my children would go into stretches of wild disequilibrium as babies and toddlers, only to suddenly pop out the other side sporting two new teeth or pulling themselves to a stand or surprising me by speaking in complete sentences.

In the interim, in the thick of my own current wild disequilibrium, what to do?

When the word slapstick bubbled up yesterday, I paid attention.

I looked it up. The definition was pretty much what I expected, and it satisfied my curiosity about the literal origin of the word.

The best part, though, was the language used to define:

boisterous action
farcical situations and jokes
broad comedy
horseplay

Yes!

Sounds like as good a way as any to frame a new painting inquiry!

So here's what I'm thinking—controls: slap it on, let it stick; variables: everything else.

I'll work in quick short bursts, letting boisterousness, farce, and horseplay find their way into expression without regard for outcome. Then I'll stop. No fussing, no revision, no extended time.

I'll let whatever emerges, whether little jokes or large disasters, stick, and I'll post as is.

Today, putting the above into practice, I moved along guided by impulse and intuition.

I experienced bunches of discord as well as periodic moments of flow.

I didn't 'finish' this piece—I stopped.

Here it is, as is.

Probably Out of Earshot
4x5"; acrylic, ink, pencil, and oil pastel on heavy manila stock
abstract
2017
sold

Introducing Slapstick

Slapstick.

The word bubbled up this morning out of who knows where.

Followed by these words: slap it on, let it stick.

I grabbed yesterday's postcard start, worked quickly, slap, slap, slap. Messed stuff up right and left, let it stick. Wanted to dribble paint. Dribbled paint.

Done.

Don't love it, but I'm lettin' it stick.

Slapstick
4x5"; acrylic, latex, collage, ink, and pencil on heavy manila stock
abstract
2017
[gift]

Beggars Still on Foot

Feels as though houseguests just left, or I just finished a book, or I just emptied the dishwasher and put the kitchen to bed for the night. Something has ended—a visit, or a story, or a day's work.

Or two months' worth of working on a series of a dozen paintings.

Now, something new begins.

Yesterday I reported my intention to clean up my studio. Though I didn't say so, I also had the idea to both let a few days unfold without painting and to shift gears to a larger scale when I did pick up my brush again.

As the saying goes, if wishes were horses, then beggars would ride.

As I say, hahahahahahahahaha!

In other words: (a) my studio remains riotously out of control, and (b) I started a new painting a few minutes ago—(c) a small one.

Felt great! I acted on impulse, worked quickly and for a brief time only, have no idea where I'll go with this.

work in progress

Quick & Quixotic, A Retrospective

Here I offer a little retrospective of my Quick & Quixotic painting/series.

Starting with a 12x16" piece of unstretched canvas, I made marks, pasted collage, painted, and continued doing more of the same until I reached the following seascape.

working title: Quick & Quixotic

Then, I cut the work-in-progress into ten smaller pieces.

working title: Quick & Quixotic Cut-Ups

From there, I took the ten smaller pieces, one of which I cut even further into half-inch-square tiles, and developed twelve completed paintings, most of which—woo hoo!—turned out to be happy explorations that pleased my eye. I fought hard on many days with one challenge, or two, or ten, but numerous little moments of grace made themselves known in paint. I am so grateful.

Surface, Sky, Whirlpool, Wave

Helpers of Each Other in All the Chances and Changes in the World

Sleeping in the Room with the Drying Herbs

 A Hooked Rug of Fabric Scraps, Rose and Green and Purple

A Happenso Bookmark

They Sat Drinking Hot Cider

For Five Minutes She Suspended Judgment and Fell Silent

I Did Have a Trouble or Two on My Mind

An Awkward Place Full of Awkward Questions

The Patter of Rain on Windowpanes

The Good Order of the Toolshed

It Had a Beginning That It Had Forgotten

It was two months ago (yikes, two months!) that I took note of a strong desire to paint quickly, freely, and without giving a hoot, and, in response, started painting—quickly, freely, and without giving a hoot. The painting's working title became the now familiar Quick & Quixotic, a.k.a. q&q. 

More often than not, though, over the course of those two months (again I say, yikes, two months!), I found myself painting other than in the carefree, paint-faster-than-your-mind-can-think mode I wished for. 

And still wish for.

I'm going to clean up my studio and see what happens next.

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