Recently, I
had a moment in the studio that made me stop everything!
You know how
you’ll have your agenda set, your process well directed, all systems GO—me
too! Letting the process take over has allowed
paintings to emerge without preconceived notions. Ah, to be so free….
But this
time the picture jolted together before me and I was stunned. Let me explain:
I’d killed my
current painting a couple of times already.
I had a strong bed of texture laid down: hay and cattails (bulrushes) embedded in a
pool of dried latex paint. Typically I
use the lines from the textural underpainting to direct the subject matter, but
it just wasn’t working out this time.
So I’d
painted over the whole uptight mess—twice now.
I’d gotten a beautiful effect during paint-over #1 by applying a dark
wash of watery paint over my texture. I
decided to do that again.
All was
going as according to plan. The dark
wash had gathered into all the pockets of that voluptuous surface and I was forging
ahead with a new course of action. |
| "Sweetgrass Drawing 23/30", 8" x 10", Pastel and Gesso on Prepared Board |
I couldn’t
seem to get a break with this painting! The
next day I decided that I could use the grid formula to increase the scale
of the drawing and transfer it to the painting.
A piece of cake, old school but
imminently doable….
This
decision proved to be the game changer.
I measured
out a 12” array over the surface and drew the lines in with charcoal. The panel was laid on saw horses and as I
finished the grid I set it up to begin the transfer process.
GASP.
I saw it in an instant—a nano-instant.
The grid
broke up this epic field of texture into bite sized portions. It isolated sections so that they became a
group of individual pieces rather than an incomprehensible whole. The visually overwhelming (who knew?) had
become manageable.
In a rush
of realization I set down the charcoal and stepped away from the painting. Oh my goodness, what have I done!?
It was actually
interesting! The different pieces
compared so well to each other…my eye was bouncing from one section to the next,
over and across—I had to sit down. I’d
been knocked from Abstract Expressionism into Minimalism in one aesthetic
hammer blow.
And I haven't gone back...
In just a few days I’ve completed 3 other highly textured grid paintings using different colored washes for the background. I’ve filled in the squares with fabulous colors (say goodbye to the latex neutrals!).
I’ve left sections empty on some paintings. I’ve left a group of 4 large panels void of any further markings after gorgeous blue green washes. I’ve built 18 small square surfaces for a grid installation painting which are now heaped with hay and bulrushes and drying in the barn.
 |
| The current studio view |
And the
struggle, the noodling and the exertion, effort and strain of composing the “brilliant
and breathtaking” is gone. I’d had
the nagging feeling that this work with the hay didn't need to go much further, but I just hadn't found the way yet.
Now it’s
full steam ahead.
If you have
frustration or nagging feelings with your creations, Listen To That. Where are they coming from? What do they mean? They were telling me that what I was doing wasn't what I needed; that I was pushing
past my own artwork.
Blow it
out—figure it out—talk it out—work it out.
Be bold, be alert, and look for your moment. Expect it.
Grab it. Run with it!
