Tuesday, January 27, 2009

"Trying Stuff" Looking for True Expression

Following is an excerpt of an email from Rick Green, an artist who emails me from time to time. I think he has captured many of the feelings that all of us have.

Rick's email - ...more than that, you've accomplished what I am still trying to learn. I don't imitate or copy your work. That would be impossible anyway. But I do try to take my passion and fascination for the beauty of nature and portray it in my work. And I do it in the similar technique of using color. I'm just not as successful at it.

Too often I stand back and realize I did not accomplish my goal. Or I feel lost and there's the temptation to "try stuff". Then it just feels like shooting in the dark. The piece may turn out well. But the process does not feel right.

If you do not mind, I wanted to ask about how you prepare. What do you do, or where do you go, physically or mentally or spiritually to be at the place where you are able to move the pigments in such a way that they reflect what is inside? I would imagine you live in the place from which you work, emotionally and spiritually that is. Your muse is always close at hand, wherever you are.

But how to get that life onto the canvas? There's the trick. The trap when attempting this work is to "try things," hoping to get lucky, hoping that you'll look down at some point and say "I did it!" I'm sure it needn't be that way. Your work gives me the impression you have opened yourself to let that desire guide you until you stand back and say "That's it and this painting could not possibly have been done any other way."

Following is my response to Rick's questions/comments:

Rick, you are truly reflective and have considered my work, possibly more than I. There are many times that I feel as if I'm "trying stuff." Those times are usually with the mixed media paintings. A few years ago I was trying a lot of "stuff" because I love learning and working in many mediums. At one time, I was painting with acrylics and pouring the paint onto the canvas. Though marketable and well-received, I felt a disconnect with the process as if it were too random and my hand wasn't being seen. Of course, that's a bit silly as there are several outstanding artists, Morris Louis and Paul Jenkins, to name two who's work you recognize as theirs.





I have loved oils since learning to paint and returned to them 3 years ago. The process I use now is multiple layers, glazes of color. However, my ability to use color is innate. Because my paintings are currently intuitive, I think that there may be a bit of "trying stuff" involved with them, at the very least pushing them beyond that point when I could easily stop and know that the painting is complete. Some of them I'd wished I had stopped. Others - I'm thrilled that I kept going.

When I enter my studio, I have a pact that I will pay attention to the random thoughts flitting in and out and make an effort to keep them positive. Another thing is that I'm listening to music and that sometimes has an impact on an individual painting. Right now I'm feeling like I want to try stuff with acrylics again and use them under the oils. So, your email is a nice reflection of the present work and whether I should wander off or keep mining it for more?

The last is a question that remains unanswered and one that I suppose all of us ask many times during our artistic careers.