Knowing When to Stop

Hera Grows Suspicious ..... again and Rhapsody illustrate the dilemma of my diversity as an artist. I had grown weary of painting headless, handless, footless, naked, female torsos. The head, hands and feet are expressive elements of a figure's body language. I wanted more content in my painting. I want to express a greater depth of content both visually and spiritually. Depicting universal archetypes satisfies part of that desire.

Hera began as a practice study of a female head, using a photograph I took of my daughter, Nicole, as reference. A simple pencil sketch was followed by watercolor washes. Charcoal redefined the features, followed by more clarification with watercolor and gouache. I had achieved a well formed head that resembled my daughter. It captured her features, but not her personality or spirit. A few irrational marks with pastel brought the painting to life, the character taking on a personality of her own, not Nicole's. I carried it a bit further with a few more illogical lines, letting the artist within me direct my marks and decide when to stop. The artist within is emphatic about when a painting is resolved and I am obedient.

Rhapsody began in my usual manner of painting which is to throw splats and splotches of paint onto paper, allowing the layers to dry between throws. When an image begins to emerge, I begin to clarify the vision and tune into the energy of the marks. Sometimes other figures emerge. Rhapsody, no matter how long I worked on it, would never have evolved into the depiction of an archetype, would never have the depth of personality that Hera has. Instead it expresses another side of my spirit, a more whimsical world of illusion, fantasy and imagination. As with Hera, my inner artist nudged me to stop and I obeyed.

Communicating With Fewer Brush Strokes

I study anatomy in order to paint the movement of a figure with as few strokes as possible. It is not that I don't enjoy painting more complex works of art, it is that I value the power of a single stroke that carries a message of something as complex as a figure expressing emotion and mood through body posture and movement. Though I love thick novels I admire the well-crafted short short story, the one that is only a page long, even more.

Images:
A Dance for Dionysus - Watercolor and Oil on Canvas
Samira Belly Dancing at Easton Yoga - Watercolor

Letting Inspiration Brew

One of the wonderful aspects of aging is that enough time has passed to reveal both consistency and inconsistency in my work over time. The hints of what was yet to come are often more than subtle in my earlier work, but unrecognizable due to the simple fact that I hadn't yet lived long enough and painted enough paintings for the inspirations to develop.

Beneath the Folds is a recent painting. The media is watercolor, gouache and pastel. The composition is based on a self-portrait, a photograph I took of myself in 1975 when I spent at least half my time in a darkroom printing black and white photographs on Portriga paper. I snapped the photo one evening after having dressed for slumber. Earlier that week I found a fantastic robe in a second-hand shop. Never having been a huge fan of paisley, I was surprised that I was drawn to the pattern of the robe. Most of all, I loved the style. It zipped up the front, snuggly fitting my upper torso and flaring out below the waist. I couldn't help but swirl and dance every time I zipped it up. I felt like Ginger Rogers and Greta Garbo rolled into one.

For over thirty years it had been in the back of my mind to explore the possibilities of the image in a painting. Each time I thought to try, I knew I would get too caught up in the details of the patterns and loose the energy I wanted to express. Now that my style of painting and the language of my marks has matured, I could take on my challenge with joy.

Automatic Drawing

This drawing was done in 1982. It was the first time I experienced drawing completely from within, allowing the drawing to evolve without filters, without my brain interfering. The Surrealists referred to this as automatic drawing. As I drew, I didn't try to figure out what the drawing was about or why the content needed to express itself.

It was a terrible time in my life. My marriage had failed. I'd returned to school to work toward obtaining a Masters in Computer Technology! I was, for the first time in my life, being sensible. I was taking three courses at night while holding down a full-time job designing computer workstations. At the age of 31 my dreams were shattered. Hormones kicked in. All I wanted was to be a mother and to paint. I had always thought I could do both, but found that life was not allowing me either one.

Due to my schedule, I hadn't painted or drawn for months. Sleep deprivation got the best of me. I stayed at least five feet away from all windows as the urge to jump had returned. The two glasses of wine I consumed while cooking my week's worth of food had kicked in and my emotions swirled, gaining speed until I found a pencil and my sketchbook. I was too weak to resist the forms that emerged.

I had forgotten this drawing until yesterday when I was writing about Out of the Darkness. I have been asked about the pod-like form. I don't know what it is or why it came out of me. Nor do I understand the rings, the orbs or the saucer shapes. When these shapes emerge, I feel a release, a balance. I am where I am supposed to be if only for a moment.

Link to other automatic drawings & paintings

Orbs as Guides

After painting Out of the Darkness I experimented with allowing the first marks on my canvas to come from within and to leave my logic and judgment behind. The Orb Series and the Journal drawings are the result of giving the artist within me permission to step out into public .

I'm grateful that I stuck with it long enough (about thirty years) to get to this point of painting from within and allowing myself to experience the marks, the colors and the forms as they play with one another on the canvas without forcing them to behave in a manner that I think will result in a good painting.

Prior to this, I had experienced momentary flashes of what I would describe as creativity. Now I experience it for hours at a time and I am totally addicted to it. I'm curious and excited to see what sort of paintings I will be doing in a year, in five years, in ten years.

At this point, the orbs express themselves as spheres or as ovals, occasionally suggesting the heads of figures. The ovals appeared in the painting I posted yesterday, Rebellion in the Harem. They have crossed the line between my abstract work and my figurative work.

Image: Three Guides . Oil on Canvas

Going public

Writing in a private journal helps to focus my thoughts and to clarify the direction I might be heading in as an artist. Sitting across a table with a dear friend, sipping Portuguese coffee and sharing personal struggles as artists can unearth new issues and bring to light both strengths and weaknesses allowing for healthy growth. To push the 'publish' button on a blog posting feels like casting my thoughts, opinions and personal purpose in a hundred foot bronze form placed in the center of Times Square at rush hour. It is owning up to where I've been, where I am and where I want to be going as an artist and as a person.

My work is diverse. I am told that is a problem. The diversity is a result of my curiosity, my need for new experiences and my aversion to repetition that might lead to boredom and paintings without energy, a painting as an object rather than the result of an experience, the experience of painting. I will continue to be diverse. I want to experience as much as I can before my curtain falls.

Image: Rebellion in the Haren . Watercolor