 Journey through Memory. 12" x 36" acrylic and graphite on cradled wood panel. I recently joined a local art association that newly offers a monthly Artist's Circle, among other programs. I've never really participated in a sharing/critique group before, though I have looked for opportunities to join one. So after feeling out how this kind of art sharing works, I brought along two paintings to get some feedback. One of those I'll share with you later, but the other one you can see above, now named Journey through Memory.
I learned a potent lesson about directionality when I told the group that I thought this piece was done. I presented a vertical piece to them and one artist, Barbara O'Brien, said that her Irish background made her wish I'd turn it on its side to look like the beautiful landscape she remembers. When you're working on a piece, even an abstract, you do sense a directionality to it and it's hard to unsee that and imagine it otherwise. Barbara and another artist both saw the potential for this piece to "lie down" and how it could transform it into something much more wonderful. "Now it tells a story! They were so right! I knew instantly that this was how the painting wanted to be seen. I was so glad I'd been open to a new perspective on this piece I really loved. Barbara said: "Now it tells a story," and she was right again. Whoever looks at it can imagine a voyage, a village, a road or stream through rolling green hills, with mystery and memory lying in the hint of an ancient tree.
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 Rolling In. 20" x 20", acrylic on canvas. Painting wraps around sides. We've had some gorgeous days lately! Whether you're a fan of shade or strong sun, I'm sure you've gotten to see some lush beauty in recent weeks. Rolling In taps into that feeling, with waves of grasses and flowers and a hint of wetlands. You can almost feel the soft earth under your feet.
I hope you're having a lovely summer wherever you live! If you'd like to see the rest of this series, you can step over to my Wave Series page here. And if you'd like to see this verdant landscape in your home or workspace — even in winter! — just reply to this e-mail and we can chat about it. As always, thanks for supporting all the arts with your encouragement, purchases, and attendance. You're making the world a better place!  Cascade. 20" x 20" x 1.5" Acrylic on canvas. I'm lucky to love my home and have no need to run away from it! But the larger geopolitical picture? I could easily run away from that. What I hope the paintings in my Wave series do is give you a moment to step into a different place and a different feeling. Looking at these two paintings, can you imagine standing on a sturdy rock while you breathe in the fresh air and the scent of clean water, grasses and flowers? These are what I hoped to capture in Cascade and Breathe. While we couldn't confirm the attribution of the Twyla Tharp quote above, I thought you'd like to think about all the arts and how they let you escape the everyday and pop into another world. These worlds aren't always about beauty and joy, but beauty and joy is the world I choose to hang out in — and I'm so glad that you visit with me here from time to time!  Breathe. 18" x 18" x 1.5" Acrylic on canvas  Into the Blue Again. 20" x 20", acrylic on canvas. Have you ever seen the quote above from Paul Gardner? I really like it because it reflects how I feel about many of my paintings. How do you know when an abstract painting is done? Is it ever? Sometimes it seems perfect with the first strokes, and other times, even if you've overworked it and it looks terrible, layering new paint over it or even sanding paint away can create a completely different being. When you stop that process depends on what you see in the work. That's the conundrum and the beauty all at the same time.
Unlike some of my paintings that I rework months later, Into the Blue Again is in its final form. It's very satisfying when you're sure. This painting feels quite complete to me, both in composition and in the way it fulfills my mission of bringing joy and respite to its viewers. I'm very excited about it and hope you love it too! In fact, I'm excited about the whole "Wave" series! The paintings are not all sea paintings, but they all do "flow." You'll see! I hope to share the rest of the 10-painting series over the coming weeks. As always, if you have questions or would like to start or add to your art collection, just reply to any e-mail and I'll be happy to chat.  On the Way to Becoming. 51" x 51" x 2" on end, 36" if squared. Acrylic on cradled wood panel Created in fall of 2023, On the Way to Becoming is all about color and movement. I'm not sure if its name tells you more about how I feel about my art process, or about the resultant upbeat, evolutionary vortex of a painting. Maybe a little of both! I think sometimes abstract painting is similar to how some writers talk about their fiction works — and actually how some people think about child raising. There's a painting waiting to emerge, and the trick is to get out of the way and let it become what it needs to be. Which isn't to say we have no hand in it... On the way to becoming itself, On the Way to Becoming went through quite a few stages — I'll share just a few here:  I started by building a textural underlayer.  Then following the lines of the underlayer, I lay down green and teal as a basis to build on.  I considered this next phase "the ugly stage" of the painting (there always is one). I was adding contrast and depth and broadening the palette, and things got too muddy and vertical... it made me uncomfortable!  So I worked to add richer color and more white, and to bring everything together. I was almost there!! But which way to turn it? It actually took a few weeks of turning it around daily to figure out what really worked. But with the help of a friend... Voilà!   Ebb Tide. 12" x 36" Gesso, acrylic, wax pastel on cradled wood panel  Meadow Dance. 12" x 36" Gesso, acrylic, collage (hand-printed tissue paper), wax pastel on cradled wood panel   DETAILS: Ebb Tide and Meadow Dance Ebb Tide and Meadow Dance are the quiet balance to my more colorful and dynamic paintings. These two evolved out of a search for calm in 2023. If you’re looking for art that will soothe you every time you see it, I can truly promise these paintings will do just that. Both pieces use gesso and white acrylic to create an underlying texture, and wax pastel to pull out the shapes that were organically formed from that process. Meadow Dance has the addition of hand-printed collage papers for the leaves. Do click on the images to see them up larger. They're full of texture and detail you might enjoy. May this new year bring us all toward a better world! I mean...the world right now. I've been overwhelmed by the horror in the Middle East, and the hate being demonstrated here in the U.S. Too many conflicting feelings to know how to act, so I'm doing what I know best... moving forward trying to put beauty into the world. I hope these two paintings bring you some light in the darkness!  Swing Dance. 18" x 18" Acrylic and hand-printed paper on gallery-wrapped canvas. Swing Dance (above) started with an underlayer of gel printed papers, collaged to cover the whole canvas. I gave the collage a golden glaze, then added a creamy layer of acrylic so that I could quickly scrape out the lines with a silicone color shaper (like a spatula, sort of!). I danced the shaper through the paint, keeping my body loose for easy movement. There is serendipity in what collaging was revealed in the end, though the initial choice of papers and their positioning was a creation in itself. (If you're curious, I do have process pictures I can share — just drop me a line). Emerging Life (below) began with textured and dripped gesso, from which images were pulled out in wax pastel. As they developed, an aquatic theme emerged. I leaned into it with collaged hand-printed tissue papers and some light marker. Something I did in my earlier textile collage work is present here, as well. There are places where you're viewing something from its side, and others where you're looking down on something, all in the same artwork. Much of the painting feels up close and flat to the surface, yet there's still depth. I like mixing up the perspectives. Makes me feel like Picasso. Hah!  Emerging Life. 18" x 18" Gesso, wax pastel, collage (hand-printed tissue paper), and marker on gallery-wrapped canvas Want to see my art in person right now into January? This link will show you where I'm showing my art. I'm so grateful for your ongoing support and wish you, and all those you love, a joyful season, regardless of when your particular holiday is celebrated!
 Pleasure of the Dance (12" square, gesso, collaged hand-printed tissue paper, acrylic on cradled wood panel.)  Keeping Time (12" square, gesso, collaged hand-printed tissue paper, acrylic on cradled wood panel.) Pleasure of the Dance and Keeping Time are two more mixed-media paintings that started as something else and were completely re-worked. I'm so glad I went back to what was there and started again! Allowing myself to "ruin" pieces often frees me to create things I really like so much more. This has become a pattern for me, and an important part of my practice. These paintings began as collages using gel-printed tissue papers left over from when I made my daughter's chuppah (wedding canopy). These were the brighter pieces that didn't fit into the subtler color scheme of the wedding. The chuppah was really beautiful! But the afterthought collages? They just weren't working for me after a while. So I took a deep breath, drizzled on some white paint, and then painted over it all with gesso. I freely dragged an implement through the wet gesso, which formed the "grasses." (Are these grasses in snow? Are they in the sea?) While the marks may look painted on, what you're actually seeing is the collage paper from underneath. I did add some glazing to both the background and the vertical strokes, but primarily what you're seeing is the color in the tissue paper below the gesso. Here's a detail of one of the original collages, so you can see what the strokes are actually made of. I hope you get the chance now and then to make something new out of the old and enjoy the transformation!   Inner Journey. (12" square, mixed-media on cradled wood panel) These paintings created in June are visually quite a contrast to the quieter, whiter pieces of late. I'd like to share their story with you. Each of these started one way and evolved completely differently. Did I know in advance where they were going? Absolutely not! That's part of the joy and fear of art making. I began in April by making and completing three collages using gel-printed papers I'd created. Collage was my intention, and they were quite pretty, but there was something very...placed about them. They were clearly organized and consciously thought about and I liked them, but didn't love them.  After a while, I decided to use those collages as the basis for the three paintings you see here. I didn't know what I'd do with them, just that I would use paint, and so I began! I went with the intuitive flow, working around some parts of the collages and over most of them.  Ascent. (12" square, mixed-media on cradled wood panel) What emerged are these somewhat intense pieces that are open to interpretation of a personal nature. They are stronger and deeper now because of their evolution. The names were just what I saw emerging from the paintings — I wonder if you would name them differently?  Free Flow. (12" square, mixed-media on cradled wood panel) A Wishful Garden June. 12" x 12", mixed-media on cradled wood panel.  July. 12" x 12", mixed-media on cradled wood panel.  August. 12" x 12", mixed-media on cradled wood panel. I'm really enjoying watching the little bit that's happening in my flower garden. I say little bit, because the deer love all my daylilies, and the rabbits love the Black-eyed Susans. And I love the animals, so we have kind of a disappointing agreement every year. That means these paintings are a lot of wishful thinking of what my garden may be someday... the buds will be allowed to thrive, and even open! As the summer progresses, the colors will get stronger and the green will, of course, become unruly. By August, if I'm lucky, there will still be a lot happening, just in a fading, browning kind of way. So far, my solution to the animal problem is to let our purple blazing star (liatris) spread as much as it likes — deer don't like it, and I love it! Back to the paintings, in case you're curious, they were done in a similar way to the very white ones I recently shared — lots of textured gesso, then raised areas highlighted with wax pastels. I was definitely conscious of creating botanical forms, but didn't know what would actually emerge. I'm really pleased with the results! Before we part, here's a picture of that blazing star from a couple years ago. I hope you're getting pleasure from some blooms in your vicinity, too!  |
AuthorI'm a mixed-media artist living and painting west of Boston. Exploratory and color-happy. Archives
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