Showing posts with label color. Show all posts
Showing posts with label color. Show all posts
Monday, June 28, 2010
Monday, September 07, 2009
CUZIMTHEBOSSAME
I can do what I want “BECAUSE I’M THE BOSS OF ME.”
I remind myself of this often. When I am painting and pause to question a color choice I’ve made I remind myself that I can do what I want - CUZIMTHEBOSSAME. When I say it I love to run it all together like that. It feels good coming off my tongue and makes me smile. It reminds me how clever I am and that I am responsible for my life and my choices.
So, if I want to paint late into the wee hours of the morning I can – CUZIMTHEBOSSAME. And if I want to sleep in the next morning I can - CUZIMTHEBOSSAME.
This morning while rummaging through the frig looking for good stuff to add to a breakfast burrito, I spied celery. Hmm, would celery be good in the burrito? I’ve never heard of anyone putting celery in their eggs but why not? I don’t see any reason it wouldn’t be good. I could sauté some celery with the onion, pepper, and bits of steak. Sounds good to me.
Sure, I can do whatever I want - CUZIMTHEBOSSAME! Then I smiled a quirky little smile of satisfaction. What a clever girl am I.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
I painted this for you
My husband poked his head in my studio checking up on me. “Is that painting for somebody or just a painting?” He inquired. My reply was quick and adamant. “Oh, it’s for somebody. We just don’t know who yet.” When I’m painting it’s not my concern where the painting will ultimately find it’s home. My task is to bring it into this world.
I believe more and more that each of the paintings I produce have their own destiny, a purpose for life beyond the walls of my studio. It’s as though I’m the medium or conduit for an idea that need expressing. These ideas seem to come through me and to me more than being of me. It’s exciting to think it’s all part of a grander scheme.
It’s the same for the way the names of the paintings come to me. Sometimes they are named during the painting process. I’ll find myself repeating a word or phrase over and over as I paint. “Delicious, delicious, delicious”, I murmur. My mouth watering over the vibrant magenta hues in the iris painting developing before me. Then as if someone has snapped their fingers I come out of my trance and say out loud “Why that’s your name, “Delicious!”
Other times, after the painting is complete I will stand back to take it in anew. Whatever comes to me, I go with. I don't argue or debate what I am given. I have too many paintings in my head yet to come to concern myself to long with or debate about titles. The really fun thing of it is I’ve found that these inspired names are part of the magic.
“Sunshine Grows In Kansas”, yeah, that’s your name. I told field of sunflowers just fresh from my easel. I had the perfect frame too, a heavy guy. It was a frame style closeout deal from my supplier. Only one left and I got it at a great price. The massive dark wood frame was much different than my typical frame choices, very stately one might say. Together it was a match made it heaven, but there is more to this story. more…
 | ||
| Delicious |
It’s the same for the way the names of the paintings come to me. Sometimes they are named during the painting process. I’ll find myself repeating a word or phrase over and over as I paint. “Delicious, delicious, delicious”, I murmur. My mouth watering over the vibrant magenta hues in the iris painting developing before me. Then as if someone has snapped their fingers I come out of my trance and say out loud “Why that’s your name, “Delicious!”
Other times, after the painting is complete I will stand back to take it in anew. Whatever comes to me, I go with. I don't argue or debate what I am given. I have too many paintings in my head yet to come to concern myself to long with or debate about titles. The really fun thing of it is I’ve found that these inspired names are part of the magic.
“Sunshine Grows In Kansas”, yeah, that’s your name. I told field of sunflowers just fresh from my easel. I had the perfect frame too, a heavy guy. It was a frame style closeout deal from my supplier. Only one left and I got it at a great price. The massive dark wood frame was much different than my typical frame choices, very stately one might say. Together it was a match made it heaven, but there is more to this story. more…
Friday, March 06, 2009
My Artist Statement
Making art is a very solitary experience for me. My studio is my sanctuary where I escape the rush and noise of life and make myself whole again. I release my built up creative energy wielding a palette knife thick with oil paint across a canvas.
I was born this way. An artist. You can ask my parents. I always looked at life differently and noticed things others quickly passed over. I’ve been learning to see for almost fifty years now and at the same time learning to express my visions so I can share with others. These visual recollections continually dance in my head until I give them another place to live.
Just as I have never been able to follow a recipe while cooking, each painting experience is a new creative challenge I set for myself. Can I capture the brilliance of the color, the intensity of the light or the subtle details tucked in the shadows? Each painting is a lesson learned which is in turn applied to the ones after. It’s quite often not fun. It’s hard and I’m hard on myself. I won’t quit until I’ve been able to say what I intended to say. It’s funny isn’t it, that I speak as if my painting speaks? That’s the way I think. My mind says, “this is what I’m trying to say”, not what I am trying to make something look like.
“Where is that?” I’m often asked in reference to one of my paintings. I don’t mean to seem flippant but the reality is that it was here (pointing to my head) and now it’s here, (pointing to the canvas). More and more I paint that way. In fact, I start many paintings flat on my back. Lying quietly with my eyes closed, I design paintings in my head drawing upon my memories. Choosing to include just enough detail to express the scene.
Lately, I’ve decided that no painting leaves my studio until it “sings”. They don’t all have to sing the same song but each painting needs a strong voice and an enchanting melody. It always delights and interests me when someone is drawn to my work. It struck a chord within them and resonates true to some experience in their own life. The painting makes them smile, just as the process did for me. It’s a good thing to feel good. We each need to be reminded of all the good in life.
There was a time when I didn’t feel so good. Not good at all. But when I was painting all was right with my body and the world. My art is my therapy but I also believe it has a purpose and life beyond me. I believe I am put here as an artist to share the joy I feel and perhaps others will find themselves looking at the world around them a little differently and find themselves smiling.
I was born this way. An artist. You can ask my parents. I always looked at life differently and noticed things others quickly passed over. I’ve been learning to see for almost fifty years now and at the same time learning to express my visions so I can share with others. These visual recollections continually dance in my head until I give them another place to live.
Just as I have never been able to follow a recipe while cooking, each painting experience is a new creative challenge I set for myself. Can I capture the brilliance of the color, the intensity of the light or the subtle details tucked in the shadows? Each painting is a lesson learned which is in turn applied to the ones after. It’s quite often not fun. It’s hard and I’m hard on myself. I won’t quit until I’ve been able to say what I intended to say. It’s funny isn’t it, that I speak as if my painting speaks? That’s the way I think. My mind says, “this is what I’m trying to say”, not what I am trying to make something look like.
“Where is that?” I’m often asked in reference to one of my paintings. I don’t mean to seem flippant but the reality is that it was here (pointing to my head) and now it’s here, (pointing to the canvas). More and more I paint that way. In fact, I start many paintings flat on my back. Lying quietly with my eyes closed, I design paintings in my head drawing upon my memories. Choosing to include just enough detail to express the scene.
Lately, I’ve decided that no painting leaves my studio until it “sings”. They don’t all have to sing the same song but each painting needs a strong voice and an enchanting melody. It always delights and interests me when someone is drawn to my work. It struck a chord within them and resonates true to some experience in their own life. The painting makes them smile, just as the process did for me. It’s a good thing to feel good. We each need to be reminded of all the good in life.
There was a time when I didn’t feel so good. Not good at all. But when I was painting all was right with my body and the world. My art is my therapy but I also believe it has a purpose and life beyond me. I believe I am put here as an artist to share the joy I feel and perhaps others will find themselves looking at the world around them a little differently and find themselves smiling.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
GLOBS OF PAINT
I want to eat them up. The globs of paint on my palette look delicious!
I’m in love with color just the same as a mother with her babe. Young mothers hunger for their children. They cannot get enough of their scent, their soft skin and beautiful smiles. Haven’t you ever nibbled on a baby’s toes? It’s just that kind of feeling for me.
The subjects or motifs I choose to paint are just excuses to play with color and explore all the wonderful possibilities that seem endless in my mind.
I’m in love with color just the same as a mother with her babe. Young mothers hunger for their children. They cannot get enough of their scent, their soft skin and beautiful smiles. Haven’t you ever nibbled on a baby’s toes? It’s just that kind of feeling for me.
The subjects or motifs I choose to paint are just excuses to play with color and explore all the wonderful possibilities that seem endless in my mind.
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