Speaking to myself — Sometimes you have to paint what is there and not what you want to be there.
That’s a challenge when you are painting abstractly.
I’m in the middle of a new six-piece series and it is taking unexpected turns — which is good — creatively. The “Michael”, “Phil” and now this “Isaiah” series were started with the intention of seeing if the model (the object, the source of inspiration) would make a difference in the final work. I am trying to apply the same technical elements in the fabrication of each painting, but the intangible is ever present.
Because I’ve worked with Isaiah before I chose to start these sketches on old paintings that I never finished rather than blank canvases. Isaiah was tired on our “sketch” day so we decided the poses would be “restful” ones — mostly lying down. From the start, these were going to be different.
Sketches done and I felt successful — the interplay between under-painting and pastel sketches made shapes and lines were a new place to start. Color was already a character in the conversation. Now I wanted to apply my “alphabet” and tell the story of my time with Isaiah. Merging — submerging — emerging. Essential shapes. Connective lines. Color blocking. Darks. Lights. Looking into the space between.
I start to see a rabbit’s face. Where did that come from?
Let it go.
Then two figures squeezed against each other in the center of the frame. Where did that come from?
Let it go.
These paintings have a lot to say to me. They aren’t about “anatomy” like the Michael series. They aren’t about “invisibility” like the Phil series. I’m trying to stay open. I’m trying to relax. But that “mind space” makes me nervous and anxious. I’m reaching to find an intention. I feel like I need to fight for a point of view. These paintings are getting crowded with thoughts and figures. Is that my contribution as the viewer or is that my experience of Isaiah?
I have always intended to paint the space between the object and the viewer — this is the first series that I feel that the viewer (me) is wanting to contribute more. I feel like I have something that needs to be said and it won’t go away. There is more fight in these paintings — more confrontation. That certainly wasn’t what Isaiah was giving as he relaxed on the couch.
Let it go. Don’t hold on. Nothing is precious.
I peer through the layers of paint and lines. I try to reclaim some of the original elements. Are they resisting transformation or am I afraid to let them go? Feeling insecure.
How do I paint that?
I re-establish faith in the process. Thighs, shoulders, pectoral muscles become the arms or necks or heads they want to be. The colors change. Dominant shapes emerge. Order (composition) pulls together. A “thinking” figure appears in the upper left corner rubbing “shoulders” with the basket of balloon heads growing like buds on a vine. Who is that guy? He wasn’t there on “sketch” day. But here he is. Embrace him — for now. “Listen” to what the heads have to say — for now. Then let them go.
The struggle continues. Change happens.
Which is a good thing.
The challenge is always to know when the conversation is finished.