Getting Distance

The days seem to be flowing faster than usual. Perhaps it is because they are fuller than usual. Or perhaps my looming deadline is a month closer… There are still six canvases to fill. Breathe. Calm down. Let go. A time-honoured tradition in the field of artistic creation is standing back from the painting to determine whether or not all the elements are working together. Standing back from my work comes with two inherent problems: space and puddling… the puddles I create on the surface require horizontal time to dry. The space in my studio suggests I climb a ladder to obtain the desired perspective. So there you see me atop a stepladder gazing at my work on the table. I could get a little more distance if I placed the painting on the floor; however, I am not sure what I would do with the table! Putting it under the table defeats the purpose it seems to me. Once things are dry I do place my work on top of the cupboards and stand back across the room. Certainly, once I imagine a piece is done, it stays in that position for several days before I declare it finished. Another way to get distance is by using a mirror.  The reversed image allows me to spot obvious errors quickly, errors that may go unnoticed as I am so used to seeing the work the other way around. There is one more arena where I am having more trouble keeping my distance: staying connected. Stress interferes with creativity. Every once in a while I discover myself thinking, “This is taking too long.” At this juncture I stand back, take a few breaths, gaze at the beauty being created for a while and let go. What will get done will get done. All is well and all will be well. (Julien of Norwich) Life is good.

Fussing

There comes a point in a painting where a decision to quit must be made. In abstract work this point can be found at any time, early or later, in the process. When is a painting finished? It is rather easy to overdo things. I love what I am doing. I could fill the whole panel with the mosaic dabs of paint losing the contrast and the dominance necessary for a flow and balance in the image. This series is particularly challenging in that there is a question right at the beginning of image development: where do I begin? So far I have managed to take the leap of faith necessary to begin. The second question is rather more problematic. For this particular painting I have decided that it is finished several times. Once I have “finished” a piece I take the canvas and mount it against a wall so that I can live with it for a while. So far this one has not cut the mustard and it is back on my table ready for the next improvement. I admit it. I am fussing. Where the painting will lead me is anyone’s guess at the moment and I am so enjoying the journey. Exciting discoveries along the way are always in order. Life is so good.

Transfers

Transfers transform. What is a transfer? Basically it is the embedding of an image within another. There could be many other definitions; my fascination springs from a desire to include drawing in my paintings. I enjoy drawing. I have a collection of lovely sketches from the life drawing I have done. Mostly they catch dust. To this group I have added some portraits of women usually realized in felt pen which transfer very well.  Depending on the size of the canvas and the activity thereon I select two or three images to place them in open spaces between the droppings of ink and colour. The next step is to make a photocopy of the images, cut off the excess paper surrounding the drawing and, using gel medium, adhere it to the surface. I have discovered that leaving the nice square edge of the paper interferes with drawing becoming one with the painting. Placement is a major consideration within the painting as the dynamic of the rhythms change depending on where the drawing is installed. There is also the fact that the image is reversed. As I have a multitude of tasks to which to attend I have the habit of leaving the gel to dry overnight. The next day three important tools come into play: water, my fingernails and a plastic scrubber. The water softens the paper, fingernails remove the major paper coverage and the scrubber finishes off the residue. Should any paper remain when dry it looks like a fog covering the lines and the background. Out comes the scrubber once again to complete the job. At this point the transfers dictate the mood, the ambiance. The transformation has a name. This is when I select a preliminary title. It may change as additional drippings transform the dance as well. Life is good.

New Beginnings

Happy New Year one and all. Today is the first day I am back in my studio full-time and I am thrilled. So what does full-time look like? There are about as many varieties as there are artists. I would prefer to be in my studio from 9am to 5pm a minimum of five days per week, in other words, forty hours of painting. Realistically that is not how it goes down in my world. There is so much more to this business than painting, all be it the most important factor. And there are the other responsibilities connected to living well that require time and energy. I have devoted the last two months to those…. So what does full-time look like for me? It comes in clumps. For the next two months I will be the happiest of artists, pushing paint, creating invitations, connecting with my clients and manoeuvring around the other tasks in my life. I will be spending about forty hours per week on studio matters, the major portion of the time being devoted to production as I savour the process. I require ten more paintings for my solo show in March. Will it be 9am to 5pm? Probably not. There will be evenings, some weekends, earlier mornings, whatever it takes. And after my solo is installed, paraded and advertised? I do know I will be moving. Yes. Again. The last time I am sure. In any case, it takes about three months for me to reorganize my studio. Full-time will not include much studio painting. It will include en plein air and some practice with notan. So much fun! Life is good.