12/13/2015

On the same wave length

Ah hah!! We are, at the same moment (separated by several time zones), both getting back to our blog. I was actually surprised to open it up and find your latest posting. Wonderfully surprised because your photos are so full of fun and adventure for your muse. She must be thrilled to find her virtual self in so many exciting locations and outside of the damn storefront window. Lucky her. I love them all - the location shots and your story of how you put her in those places is so full of your excitement and pleasure with you new iPad purchase. I wish I felt that those apps fit with my work better. But, that's ok that they don't. I love being away from the computer these days.

Still, I felt a need to get back to your comment about my artwork needing to be broken free from the constraining borders I put them in. So, I am posting a couple to float freely within your background photo and a couple with a tiny white border like the one you give your artwork.

First, totally free of any constraints:




Next, slightly contained with a tiny white border:



Now a little explanation of how I decide what parts of a larger painting to select for these special small artworks (I wrote the following in an email to my sister who asked the same question; so, I am cutting and pasting my reply here): 

A long time ago (2-5 years back) I was looking at my large paper paintings through a camera lens and "found" so many areas of wonderful colors and designs. I "wanted" them; but, I couldn't find exactly the same place when I went into the large paper to "cut them out." They were very precious; and, a lot of trouble to deal with. I started tearing the paper randomly for the waxed paper assemblages I used to make and discovered that it stopped me from getting caught up in the "precious" thinking. I found lots of small pieces that I loved and never did see in the whole piece and lots of them that I didn't like at all but they often looked great when added to an assemblage that covered up parts of it. It opened up a whole new world to let go of the preciousness of my artwork.   

From that waxed-paper assemblage period, I moved to tearing and cutting up (with an Exacto knife and ruler) large un-waxed paper paintings (often paintings that I hated) by turning the paper over so I can't see the artwork. I flipped over the small pieces (and sometimes they were very, very small - 1" x 1") and - surprise! - there were all kinds of wonderful small paintings in front of me. Lately, the tearing often goes like this: I fold the paper in half, take each half piece and tear it in half and keep doing that until I get a size I like or want. Lately, I've been painting BOTH sides of the paper and I have two sides to choose from. I might work in a color theme so I can put the pieces together in new, but complimentary ways.  I select the pieces I like best or some that look passable. Some of them get pasted on a larger sheet of paper as finished artwork in its own right (like the ones above). Others are pasted into a collage. Some are used to scale up into large paintings (usually with dismal results). Still others are torn even smaller to adorn a journal page or another mixed media painting. And, others sit in a box waiting to be chosen or, at least, taken out to test in one setting or another - like your manikin muses, Helga. 

You can guess that I have thousands of these little pieces of my art lying around. Maybe they really are my muses. They certainly inspire me; though I find I cannot replicate the design and colors in larger paintings like I wish I could. The large-paper approached, with no expectations of producing a perfect painting, end up so much freer, expressive, and looser than I can produce on panels, canvas, and other things I cannot tear apart. I tighten up, agonize, and fail. Is it a flaw in my artistic skills? Am I cheating? I try not to go down the road of answering these questions because I'm really loving the tearing-up-ugly (and beautiful)-paper-paintings process. 

I hope this post answers your questions about my process and why I might put paintings into constraining borders. 


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