Month: March 2021

Influences

March 14, 2021

No one, especially not an artist, can ever say that they have become who they are without the influence of everything and everyone around them. It is a continual evolution, and I have to say there are times when it’s more and less evident in my life, but it is always rewarding!

You have walked with me here lately and heard me talking about conversations with friends and fellow painters, going for drives, and feeling like I’m going through some growing pains. My life experiences, the people in my life, and the day to day challenges or joys, accumulate. Paintings are literally the tip of the iceberg of what is churning inside. When I am having a growth spurt my life can appear blurry, and as those iceberg tops that reveal some kind of inner movement pop up, they can leave a narrative that looks different and fractured and hard to explain. Let me simplify. It is just life. With visual artists, it just presents as evidentiary images of processing.

As a child I was influenced by illustrators like NC Wyeth and Wesley Dennis. As I grew up and explored the art world I admired artists like Monet and his muted pastels, and Kandinsky with his saturated color and they, too, added to growing influences. As each piece come together over passing years I could feel the collecting bits and could see the shifts and the aggregating. I’ve been admiring my plein-aire friend’s gestural and impressionist style recently, but know that it is his style. I have admired Andrew Wyeth’s loose illustrative work, but that’s his style as well. By admiring other artists I find bits that speak to me in that moment of my growth and it influences me. It is important for me to reach out and explore and play and let those influences fold in with all of the subtlety and nuance of a novice baker folding in new ingredients to the bowl.

Yesterday was an absolutely lovely day. I began the day by painting the cornfield in the studio, and then we went for a ride in the afternoon to fill the car with gas, visit friends, deliver a painting, and take pictures – both on the drive and at our friends house. There was so much inspiration. There will be so many images from yesterday that will emerge on canvas over time. This morning I sat in my studio listening to big band music blare on Pandora, thought about some of the wonderful horses, birds and scenes I had seen yesterday, and thought about how hard it is to photograph animals because they’re always in a blur of movement. One feral rooster seemed to follow us around, making all kinds of noise while we tried to have a conversation in the barns. I couldn’t help but think about an Aunt’s suggestion that I paint chickens and a friend who has done so recently. I had, afterall, painted my brother’s chicken, Porky, last year.

So while Ray was cooking breakfast, I painted. The relaxing day we had, influenced me. I found myself letting my recent conversations with Griffing, Brauer, Rodgers, and James further influence me. My own past watercolor sketches, Kandinsky’s raging color, Lon’s gestural energy and a whole slug of personal history influenced me. My work will continue to evolve, just as I will. For those who are concerned that my work is swinging all over, keep in mind that we are an aggregate of all kind of influences in everything we do and everything we are. It is whether we choose to keep anything, how much we choose to integrate, and if in fact we actively choose to reject that can be attributed to influence. The resulting person we find ourselves is directly influenced by our gift from God, that being, choice.

I encourage you to play some big band music, thank Kandinsky, and enjoy this playful painting – an 11″ x 14″ oil on canvas titled, The Feral Rooster Strut.

Easing into Saturday morning.

March 13, 2021

This is just one of those lovely, early Spring mornings when I woke up without the alarm, had a great breakfast with someone I love, and got to spend some time at the easel while thinking about the drive last weekend. This time of the year the snow is melting off and you can see the corn stubble, and everything is pretty in another unique way. The lines on the land made by last year’s crops can be lovely.

I’m feeling really happy and content this morning. My work is starting to feel more like it is reflecting a true me and less about me trying to illustrate something for someone else. We can find a lot of bad things about the last year and a half but it has been really a good thing for my art. It has forced me to slow down my vibrating inner core and align it with the increasing speed of me making a painting, creating that place where mind and body begin to become synchronous – almost moving in auto pilot. It has pulled me together and allowed me to enjoy the process more fully, and to paint for myself.

I am learning to let go. As an illustrator I think I spent a lot of years trying to please others and sometimes that can put self, even the very identity of being a painter, on the back burner. Like any memory muscle, that indulgence of self can atrophy. Allowing myself to paint any subject that struck my fancy, to change my style to explore new results, and to stop when I felt like it instead of looking for a pinacle of completion, has been liberating in a way I can’t even express.

Beginning several years ago I began to seek conversations with friends, family, and artists I viewed as far more accomplished than I to help me think through this evolution. They restarted my movement and sometimes continue to help propel or redirect me as I continue in my journey… and it feels great. I had forgotten that I can be fearless and smart and am allowed to trust my judgement and have fun.

As I transition through next phases in my art, and continue to grow into a better version of my self, I thank you all who listen and motivate me.

This morning’s painting is a 10″ by 20″ oil on canvas called, Spring Melt.

Growing Pains – the next step.

March 7, 2021

The conversation that I mentioned having had in the last post, challenged my comfort zone. That is a good thing. When I am challenged I do not view it as an attack but rather as a welcomed catalyst for change.

My friend, an accomplished plein-aire painter himself, suggested that I choose one subject (such as a fire hydrant) and paint it repeatedly so that it becomes more about the process than about the subject. My work experience as an illustrator has actually rooted my artwork in the subject. I don’t think my friend was questioning the validity of me being a subject painter but rather the priority the subject had over my act of painting. He implied that this could inhibit any next-step development that I might seek. I agree that this is true. Learning to move past naturally occurring sticking points, such as fixating on the subject and for me, the story, can in fact weaken my work.

In order to respond to a challenge I first think hard about what was said, and then whether it is applicable. The exercise of doing that – actually articulating in my own mind what makes the comment accurate or inaccurate – forces me to examine it. If it is even partly true then I need to decide if it is something I want to keep and own, or something that needs to be modified, changed, or even discarded. That is the fundamental concept behind any growth.

I found that this comment struck home. I spent an entire 1st career drawing exactly what the client wanted, what the catalog demanded, or what the story needed. As an illustrator, my role was to accurately present the subject, not my interpretation of it. Now, what that means to me is that I need to be aware of the relationship my past has to my current work. I don’t need to embrace the complete dismissal of subject because it is, in fact, part of what makes me – me. It is perfectly valid, however, for me to be aware of this challenge in my work. Growth can mean finding that mid ground.

I am a representational artist and will remain so, but to achieve my next level of expertise I need to strengthen the marriage between subject and process. In the end it will allow me to relax and enjoy the process of painting, and the viewer to connect themselves more readily to the images and the comfort of an identified object.

So I hope you enjoy this small series of oil sketches. It is my exercise for subject and process alignment through subject repetition, a tool that I will continue to use periodically to help me improve.

Thanks for the challenge and the motivation. Onward I go.

Growing pains and fire hydrants.

March 4, 2021

Regardless what it is, it is always interesting to me when I reach another of life’s directional markers. I am always surprised. Even though subliminally I knew another tectonic shift was coming because I was paying attention and I knew it was about time, I am surprised. I don’t necessarily like change. Change equates to the unknown and that’s unnerving. I can’t predict how big the change will be and that’s scary. I can’t gauge how frequently the next changes may come so I can’t prepare. I can’t control change. I feel off kilter.

I’ve spent some time recently thinking about where my art is going, noticing how I’m evolving, and wondering what might happen to my art if I retire from my day job at some point? Is my work going in the right direction? Is it getting better? It’s uncomfortable territory and yet I think about an old Chinese quote I read once, “Do not fear going forward slowly; fear only to stand still.”

Yesterday, I had a great conversation with a friend of mine and I am still mulling it all over, processing and internalizing what I will choose to keep and use, and what is useful in helping me write my own script. It is a real gift any time a friend lets down their guard and talks straight on at you. You’re gonna get higher peaks and lower valleys and the benefits will increase proportionately. I came away from the conversation motivated, validated, and ready to lean into building the new path. I was also unsettled, frightened and somewhat depressed. Now before you either get empathetic or angry at the friend, I will qualify with “I asked for it” and “I am celebrating all of those feelings”. I am grateful.

I have to smile because I think of how my father would often tell me, “… if you sit through a sermon and as you walk away you aren’t feeling uncomfortable or conflicted somehow, the preacher wasn’t doing his job”. God puts people in front of us just as surely as he does good preachers so it’s best just to listen.

I have some time before retirement so this gives me time to transition into the next plan. When daunted, become resolved. Even if I don’t know where the path of change will lead me, I know I must move forward.

“I am always doing that which I cannot do, in order that I may learn how to do it.” –  Pablo Picasso