thoughts on art and creative living

It’s been a busy, busy week. I needed to complete some of my current paintings for a new one-person show that I hung last night. I also was just accepted to be a member at an artist’s cooperative gallery, so I’m hanging there tonight. In addition, I already had a show up at another place downtown. If you are in Portland, please check out my shows page for details on the locations.

As usual, my favorite paintings of my collection of works are whichever ones I just finished. And.. as usual, whenever I get on a creative roll, I always wonder about the time I spend struggling with my creativity. At this moment, I feel like I have hundreds of paintings waiting to get out, which makes it difficult to comprehend the times that I feel at a loss for what to do. Here’s the completed “Songbird” painting:

I also finished the other painting that I spoke of in my last post.

What made this painting come alive for me was when I started adding the dots and dashes to the background. Interestingly, this idea came about in a very happenstance manner. There was a small dark speck embedded in the plexiglass, located over her left shoulder. Since I couldn’t wipe it off, I decided to add something in the background that would camouflage it (where the background is the darkest). I started adding dots of color there to add some interest, then ended up following through with dots and circles that got progressively larger as I continued down the panel. I then decided to add vertically dashed lines above the horizon, which emphasizes the vertical flow of the larger blue-green drips. Now the drips more specifically related to the idea of rain, so I decided to call the piece “Day of Rain”. I felt that the title completed the piece because it ties together the idea of rain bringing flowers. The oddity of a nude woman standing in the rain adds an edge to its poetic sensibility, I feel.

Yea! I’m finally on a roll, after feeling like I am only half into my process lately. I could note a few excuses, such as my recent activity creating other people’s websites…. or spending the past week interviewing prospects for a new housemate… but the truth is that this has been going on for quite some time, and I was beginning to wonder about my dedication to studio work. I think a lot has to do with shifting gears between producing stuff for street shows, wearing out my creative impulse by forcing myself to crank things out for a while. I’m not a very good art slave, as I tend to resent it rather quickly. I did learn a lot about marketing, what images people are most often attracted to, etc. That’s all very valuable. But now that I’ve run myself through the wringer, I’m actually glad the winter is here so that I can get more focused in the studio and do my REAL work.

That said, I’ve been starting out a little dry. I didn’t really want to pack up my lovely balcony studio and put everything in the basement. Weather wimp that I am, I couldn’t get myself to paint outside, even if the strong winds and rain are only occasional. For a little while I was moving back and forth between the balcony and basement, but I’m not organized enough to maintain 2 studios. There’s a huge part of me that resists being underground, though. Perhaps I just needed to sort things out in my head first. I’ve been doing a lot of meditating and image research… figuring out what I want to do. After spending too much time in my head, I just want to paint without a thought for a while. So much of my first steps was centered on creating a handful of new panels with abstract painting. I like to start out with absolutely no idea where I am going… just following my momentary impulses toward particular colors, shapes, and textures. The panels are each 17 inch squares, made from a combination of sponging, brushing, stenciling, and embedding textures.

These are all groundwork for layered plexiglass paintings. I decided to paint a woman over the first panel. She’s been in evolution for the past two weeks, but I finally feel that I have enough figured out to want to share her. She’s a funny little woman, but lovely.

A few days ago, I also started another painting with another background. This songbird hasn’t progressed as far, so I’ll share it later. In the meantime, I’ve also been playing around with some collages, which I then started painting over:

The first of this pair is vertical diptych, utilizing a frottage drawing above, and a charcoal drawing below.
“Frottage” is a word used by the surrealists (I think it may have been invented by Max Ernst), which describes a way of discovering imagery by rubbing various textures. It, like the drawing below it, was originally turned vertically (the drawing was of a Buddha face, originally). I turned it sideways to get a new vantage point on what to do with it. I had been painting them separately, then decided they looked good together. For some reason I actually like the head turned on its side.

So there’s my revelations from the studio!

My process in the studio is a bit slow at the moment. I don’t feel like revealing what’s going on there now, because it’s still in a progressive state of constantly re-deciding what I’m doing there. One day I think it’s a good time to complete old projects, another day it’s a good time to start a new one. In the meantime, I’ve got about a dozen ideas I’m working on… and none of it at lightning speed.

I decided when I started this blog that it should be about anything that relates to my creative life. Part of my creative life is my spiritual life. In fact, it is the grounding for my creativity (especially when I’m feeling somewhat ground-less, as I have been lately). Therefore, I’ve decided to do a little exposure about my altar, which has been in re-development over the past month. I used to have my altar set up in my attic, as it seemed like the best place for it. It turns out that I rarely went up there, so I bundled up all of my altar objects and brought it down to a space in my bedroom. It’s now much easier for me to remember to sit daily. I usually do this as I begin and end the day, or anytime I feel called for a little silent contemplation.

All of the objects on my altar are of personal significance and aid me in finding my connection with spirit.

The most personal object is a photograph of my father. Looking up into the trees, I feel that it is the one photo that captured his transcendent spirit. I’ve recently been told by a couple of intuitives that he is a guiding angel that is always near me. I was told that he watches me as I paint, and as I sleep. Recently I’ve had a lot of dreams about him, so I’m inclined to believe this (or perhaps I just want to, as I miss that connection I had to my dad). For months after his death, he would come to me in dreams. Often he would transform into an animal… or tell me secrets about “the other world”. Sometimes he would speak to me with no words (yet, it felt like a thousand words at once)… all through his gleaming eyes, letting me know that all was well and that he loved me. I felt like I could have stayed in that moment forever. I know that when I die, he will be the one who brings me over.

Currently, the central object on my altar is this abalone shell, given to me by a friend and spiritual guide. Inside the curve of the shell is a mirrored pendant that belonged to my mom. (It makes me smile to remember a photo of her when she received it as a Christmas gift. She put it on her head and it got stuck on her nose). Thinking of it as a mirror, it reminds me never to take myself too seriously. Also in the shell are about a dozen fragments of writing. I recently decided to write down all of my blessings (because I often forget when I get into my complaining mind). I wrote them on pieces of rice paper, which I plan to glue into a paper-mache bowl.

Other objects include a lovely scarf that my sister gave to me… it’s too nice to wear, and I’d rather contemplate it’s patterns as a backdrop for my Buddha sculpture, prayer bracelets, crystal pendulum, and special stones (picked from the Columbia River banks).

I love this photograph of a Buddhist monk that I got from photographer Lenny Foster when I was lived in Taos. He did a series of beautiful photographs of the hands of the spiritual ordained of other cultures. I love the detail of the patterned robe, the waterlilies in the background, and the ceremonial touching of the prayer beads. While I don’t necessarily call myself a Buddhist, it’s probably the closest alignment I have with “organized religion”… mostly because it relies on personal reflection instead of intermediaries. I do believe that all humans have a Buddha nature, which for most of us lies undiscovered. I also believe in reincarnation. Sometimes it takes many lives to evolve into the discovery of our higher consciousness. I have a hard time remembering prayers, so I’m making it a practice now to place near my altar prayers or poems that inspire me.