thoughts on art and creative living

I am in a blissful state this evening because I’ve finally surpassed my creative impasse. I knew it was only a matter of time. This has happened before. I know I’m not the only one to occasionally wonder if the juices will ever flow again. Once the creative pump is primed fully, I wonder how it ever slows to a trickle. Truly, there are so many ideas flowing through me now that I wonder if I’ll be able to catch up with my brain.

I’ve been playing with these surfaces for the past week or so. I go back and forth between layering colors on 6 small paintings and a few larger ones. It’s been fun, but now and then I stop and question myself, “what will ever come of this?”. It feels like total chaos to me, and I long to settle on an image so that I know what direction the work is taking. I hush myself. If I want to paint the same way I’ve been painting for 20 years, that’s fine… nothing wrong with it… but then why is this discontent bubbling up within me? I know that to change requires courage. It requires sticking with the process even when I have no idea where I am going or if I am heading the right direction. I decide it doesn’t matter if I end up throwing all of these paintings away. I give myself permission to make a mess. I keep painting. Layering. Dripping. Rolling textures. Smearing. Stop. Start another painting. Repeat the process of simply following whatever impulse guides me. The next day, return to the studio and play again. Then a day comes when I am afraid to face it. Too much uncertainty. Delve into it anyway. Forget that I am the creator. There is no room for ME here, just the simple play of colors and textures. I get out of the way. At some point, I stop and realize something magical has happened

In a way, some of these new paintings have taken years to make. I created the textures of the painting above by making a collograph in school many years ago. A collograph is basically a collage-plate which is printed onto paper. I glued crinkled paper, string, and dried glue doodles to a mat board, sealed it with varnish, inked it up, and ran it through a roller. 15 years later, I dig it out of my collage bin, cut it up, glue it to a board and paint it. The flying swan pendant belonged to my mother. I took it off of my altar the other day because I thought I might draw it. I saw it sitting next to my unfinished collage and decided they might belong together. An interesting note: I was thinking the shapes in the piece symbolized a “mother” figure… a sort of nurturing, protective form. The flying bird symbolizes freedom for me. I can make my own personal allegory: perhaps it’s my mother’s soul, which is now free from this world. Or maybe it is a more universal idea of “mother spirit” which nurtures until her young are free to fly.

More experiments (all of these images enlarge when you click them):

None of the paintings in this post are finished yet. I am just documenting my own progress.

A friend of mine recently remarked that she’s horrified when she sees artists posting their unfinished works on the web. For her, she needs to work through the many layers and incarnations of a painting before she can feel safe about revealing it. I probably used to feel the same. But I don’t feel that these paintings really belong to me yet. They are still coming through me and I am simply curious about my own process, especially since this way of working is still new to me.

While I was on my walk today, I found a clipped yellow rose on the pavement. I was in a business district and could find no yellow rose-bushes nearby, so someone must have cut it, walked with it, and dropped it. I immediately picked it up as if it was a present left for me. It’s scent was fragrant and the bloom was still fresh. I brought it home and decided that it was what I was meant to paint for the evening. Again, for some reason it reminded me of my mother, so I decided to paint it as a dedication to her. I picked up one of my panels which I decided would be a good back-drop. With the contrasting blues and accenting yellows, it seemed a perfect match. I got my oil palette set up and went to town. I realized that part of me was missing the “rendering” aspect of my painting. I was having fun with layering acrylics, but creating a “portrait of a flower” put me in a meditative state. I’ve decided that I like this combination of painting with wild abandon, then painting with serene focus. A perfect balance of Order and Chaos (just like my mind).

Please note: this and previous posts were affected by a recent upgrade of my blog software.  I had a mishap that caused me to lose all of my images, so I’ll be updating these soon!

I’ve spent the last few days updating my website. I think I’ve been on the computer about 3/4 of my waking hours these past few days and my eyes are burning, but I’m still here, uploading files as I type this. What is it about computers that hooks me in? I keep promising myself that I will spend less time here and more time in the studio. That’s the exactly my intention, as I set myself up for recreating the 100+ pages of my site (which also means editing photos and getting rid of pages that are now defunct). This is a project that would normally take me at least a week to accomplish, but I want to be done with it so that I can tend to other aspects of my life. Once I’m done here, my life can return to a sense of balance, right? Well, there are other things I’ve been occupied with too. Like other people’s websites (!)… and my daily walks, which are saving my eyes and sit bones. Tomorrow, I’ll definitely be in the studio again. Now that I’ve written it, I have to keep my promise.

Once I set up my studio on my balcony, I did get into the process of painting for a few days… then it rained for a couple of days and I wanted to be inside again. I’ve been a bit stuck in my work for a while now. I think it has something to do with moving so much. A lot of energy gets diverted into making my home nice, which is a good foundation for me to even feel like being creative. There’s a lot of inner work happening too, so I’m definitely not being dormant. In fact, I feel that these times of transition are perhaps the most creative, like the moment of emerging from a cocoon. I definitely feel that this is what is happening right now. My wings are feeling a bit bound and the desire to open them is coming through. As I work in my studio, I am opening up to a new way of expressing. I’m working on several small paintings at once… playing with textures and colors and applying paint in a variety of ways. The intent is NOT to settle on an image too soon. So I’m having fun with it, turning the paintings around as I work on them, covering layers with new layers. I’m having more fun here than I have in a long time. But the uncertainty is difficult for me. Sometimes I come into the studio excited and ready to experiment; other times I am daunted by the fact that I don’t know what I’m doing and haven’t settled on any “images” yet. I’m on my way to figuring it out. I’m looking forward to having something emerge soon. Hopefully, it will be a new pair of wings.

I feel that my creative breakthrough is just beginning to emerge! I’ve actually spent more time setting up my space than creating, but I feel that this is, for me, an important part of the process. I’ve decided to move much of my studio out to the balcony, so that I can create outside while the weather is nice. I’ve moved all of the things I feel I’ll need to create my new series of small works, including gessoed panels, collage papers, paints, brushes, pastels, pencils, pens, texturing tools, bottles, etc.

Getting everything organized in its proper place takes some time. Small spaces require even more organization so that all the tools don’t become clutter. Now that I’m set up, it’s evening and I’m too tired to work. But I’m excited that the time has arrived to get things moving.

I made a resolution a few days ago to take a walk every evening. I prefer the “golden hour” while the sun is just beginning to set, and all the plants have a magical glow to them that renders everything more ALIVE. Part of my daily practice is to take my camera with me. I make quick shots throughout my walk, without stopping to do too much editing. I want to keep up a steady pace so that I get my exercise – so I pause only briefly to take a photo of basically anything that catches my eye. Mostly its the plants and flowers, occasionally a tree, tiny weeds breaking through the textures of a wall or pavement; or a cat that comes up to greet me (if I’m fast enough). I don’t know yet whether I am actually going to USE any of these photos. I just feel that taking them helps me to take more notice of my surroundings: how the light affects everything; how different plants, placed next to each other, create interesting patterns, textures, and color contrasts.

It was a good idea to move my studio from the basement to the balcony. I couldn’t bring myself to be down there while the weather is nice, especially after surviving a cold and rainy winter. One must “Seize the Day” while the sun is shining in this town. It might be raining the following day. But the rain here brings good things too. This is known as the “gardener’s paradise”. I’ve created hundreds of photos during my daily walks. I want to post some of these, but need to organize them and figure out which software is most convenient to blogging. In the meantime, if you are interested in sifting through them, you can find my  Portland web album on Picasa.com:

I don’t know how I am going to use any of these yet. Mostly I am interested in the patterns and textures that I see in all of these plants, rock walls, trees, etc. They’re visual notes of my daily journeys… which I’m sure will find their way into the studio at some point.

And it’s a good time to begin new projects. This city transforms when the sun comes out. Suddenly, I am inspired to get out of the house and take daily walks through the neighborhood. I’m greeted by the multitude of blooms that are springing up from front-yard gardens, blooming trees, and cats that seem eager to come up to meet me. All of the sudden, I feel inspired to take photos everywhere I go. I want to capture the patterns and colors and light. I am dreaming of all of the paintings I want to create. And though I want to actually be on the computer LESS; at the same time, I want to do MORE with the time that I spend here. I feel that if I can begin a dialogue about creative process, then I’ll have increased my own discipline in paying attention to my thoughts; at the same time perhaps inviting others to join in on the conversation.