What Do You Mean?

That is the title of this painting which may or may not be finished.  Or may need some minor adjustments.  Or may just be one that I’ll never feel resolved about.

I like to work on several things at once, and I like the idea of  doing several paintings of the same size at one time.  This was one of a series of six paintings on paper, five of which I finished last summer.  But this one had me stumped then and it still has me stumped now.  I keep working and reworking it.  I’ll feel good about it for a day or so.  And then I’ll want to tweak one little thing and that will lead to something else, and then I just keep painting until the surface of the painting starts to feel good again.  Then I work on other paintings for a while, and I keep looking at it.  Then the whole process starts all over again.

I keep asking what the painting is trying to teach me.  Every time I work on it, I ask, “What Do You Mean?”   So no matter how many more times it changes, that is the title.

What I like about this version is that the colors are a bit loud, a little blunt.  That’s not usually me.  There is chaos but order, too.  I like that they are playing with each other, but not at odds.  This piece might defeat me in the end, but I am thoroughly enjoying the process.

A Mini Basket Breakthrough

I made this basket last May in a workshop taught by the wonderful basket maker Judy Zugish. She has great designs and amazing willow that she has grown and prepared herself. But what I loved the most was how she encouraged creativity in all the students. No two baskets were alike, and you’d never know they were even made in the same class.

Originally, I left all the spokes at the top uncut and they completely obscured the opening. I thought of it as mysterious and liked it as a design element without quite knowing why. Then I got a critique from another wonderful basket maker Marilyn Moore who juried a show I entered the basket in. She thought that the top didn’t fit the rest of the basket which was more refined and almost classical. I did see that clearly and resolved to trim all the spokes to a uniform length. But something kept stopping me.

Then last night it finally came to me.  I started clipping random spokes at less than uniform length and only clipped the ones that seemed not to fit, or stuck out too much, or were too twisted, or just “asked” to be cut.  Here is the result of that.  It may not be finished yet.  As I looked at the photo, I could see a few more things that I wanted to do.  But it is getting close to where I want it to be.  Still a bit wild and unruly.  But with some light getting into the belly of the basket, the sense of mystery has really only increased.  As you go around the perimeter, some spaces are more open, some are more dense.  There is no regularity, and that is what I am liking about it.

What made me really happy about this process was that it was one of the first times I felt that I was able to make artistic decisions about a basket in much the same way I would about a painting.  Whether it works or not, whether I like it as much in a week as I do today, whether anyone else likes it, none of that matters.  I had fun with the process.  Taking thirty minutes to clip fifteen spokes.  Time well spent, I say!

 

Beads to Bracelets

My favorite bead store in Friday Harbor is having huge sale this week.  So on Tuesday, I hopped on the inter island ferry and came home with this stash. Clearly one of my winter projects has been determined by this purchase.  But I can’t think of a nicer way to spend the rainy days and nights of January and February in the Northwest.  For me, working with these beautiful, bright colors and with beads that sparkle in the light is clearly a way to fight the winter blues.

Mandalas Abound

I really like it when life shows me mandalas.

We went to Port Townsend last week, met some friends from Canada, and had a little get-away. Lovely company, wonderful food and wine, brisk walks all around this historic Victorian town, and an excursion to Fort Worden State Park where the movie An Officer and a Gentleman was filmed.  Nice to see a military base that is no longer in use!

We stayed in a two-bedroom apartment right in the middle of town and could walk everywhere.  What a great find!  Full kitchen, wood stove, fresh flowers on the table when we arrived, right next to a garden, tons of privacy, our own little deck that no one else could see.  I was ready to move in!

But perhaps my favorite thing was the mandala in our bedroom.  Beautiful, inspiring, uplifting.  All that a proper mandala should be.

I was so sure

“Painting is more about a way of not knowing, and of not knowing for as long as possible while still working.  It’s not something to brag about.  But it is very important to me and crucial, I think, to making good art.”

David Reed, artist/writer

I just read the quote this morning, and it felt very powerful to me and very appropriate.  It is from an article by Reed which appeared in the September issue of Art in America.  He is summing up what he learned from his mentor, the Abstract Expressionist painter Milton Resnick.

What felt so right to me was the idea “of not knowing for as long as possible.”  Of remaining open to the process of painting itself and getting out of my own way and free from my own mind.  To not over think.  Just to paint.  To feel lost, and then found, and then lost again until the painting itself tells me that its time to stop working and start looking at what I’ve done.  And then pause until it’s time to get lost and found again.

I was so sure that I knew where I was heading after completing the paintings I did over the summer.  Now I am not sure of anything.  Even making the mandalas can be filled with a new sense of potential.  On the edge, on the verge of “not knowing.”  So delicious!!