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So, as I briefly mentioned in my last post, I’ve started playing around with text a little bit more in my work. I’ve already been using text for a while, but mostly through collage only. I recently came across some old keyboards and thought some of the keys might make some interesting additions to my work.
The above image is a piece of art that I just finished, titled “Home.” I’ve had it in the works for a while, layering on color and washes, creating texture and depth. I thought it looked like a landscape or seascape, until I added the pears (a symbol I’ve used in other works). Suddenly it became a still life. The pears are collaged from wallpaper (another domestic reference), but I painted on top of them so much, you can’t see much of the original. I found the perfect text for this one: “Home.” I even left the key messy with paint, to reflect my lived-in, imperfect, but creative home. I’m trying to remind myself that it’s ok if things aren’t perfect, that just makes them more interesting.
The computer keys are a fun element to add into my work, adding a little bit of three-diminsionality, but also contributing to the meaning of the art. Here’s a tiny work that I did recently, only 4 x 4″, titled “Down.” A reminder to sit down and enjoy life once in a while. Breathe.
Finally, this work is called “Esc.” I created it for the McKinney Avenue Contemporary member show, “Border.” Here’s my summary for this painting:
I recently received the “Best of Show” award at the Texas and Neighbors 25th Annual Art Show in Irving for “The Gift,” so I wanted to share a little bit about this painting/mixed media piece.
The composition for “The Gift” was inspired by a historical painting by Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres called “Venus at Paphos.” (http://www.musee-orsay.fr/es/colecciones/obras-comentadas/busqueda/commentaire.html?no_cache=1&zoom=1&tx_damzoom_pi1%5BshowUid%5D=111780 ) I am interested in taking art historical depictions of women (typically created by male artists) and keeping the overall composition, but changing the meaning entirely. These women are no longer in the background; they are no longer simply seen as allegories of beauty and desire. They are now active participants in their own life, everyday women with interesting stories to tell.
Stylistically, I prefer looser lines and more abstracted forms than used in traditional paintings. I am influenced by the modernists: Matisse, Picasso, Van Gogh, Valadon, and Toulouse-Lautrec, to name a few. I feel a connection to their liberated use of color and simplification of forms. In this particular work, I first layered paper onto the canvas. The underlying image (a photograph of a sculpture that I took while in Boston) shows through only near the bottom of the composition — the dark areas in the female’s dress, and under the red garment of the child.
Another influece on my art is stained glass windows. I believe this comes from my background in Art History, and eventual travels in Europe. Each panel of stained glass tells a story through simple lines and bold colors. Likewise, each canvas or panel of my work captures a simple moment in time (a conversation, an exchange between mother and child), and elevates it to a moment of the sublime. Although I use the “aura” or halo in some of my work, it not meant to be religious, but rather to bring to light the sacred acts of everyday life. Using these female subjects, much of my art work deals with my interpretation of my own life: my role as mother, daughter, and wife.
Pablo Picasso said, ” Painting is just another way of keeping a diary.” For me, at least, this is true.
A lot has happened since my last post. I can’t believe it’s been so long, but I’ve been so busy creating, that I haven’t had time to write about it!
Between September and now, I’ve participated in one art festival, two solo exhibits, and three group exhibits. I began serving as the President of our local arts Guild in January. And over the past four months I’ve also designed and produced four very large public murals. So, now, it’s time to catch my breath and show you what I’ve been up to.
Starting in October, I began to come up with designs for four murals that would be in the library at Frisco High School. I met with the librarian and principal at FHS, and we discussed how they would like the murals to be very colorful, livening up the library walls and appealing to the students there. They wanted something that reflected how the library was used, and were looking for a more modern, less traditional feel for the murals. Other than that, I was on my own!
This is the first of the four murals, which measures 24′ x 8′, and is located behind the long circulation desk. I call this mural “Connected,” because it shows the students connecting with books, technology and each other in the library. I thought it would be fun to play with scale in the composition, so I made the books and notebook very large. I tried to incorporate a variety of types of students, and I even used four FHS students as models for this mural. By the time I finished, I had several requests from other students who wanted to be painted, too!
After completing my first mural, I moved on to the mural in the entry way of the library. I knew it would be one of the first things you would see when entering, so I wanted to create another image that really grabbed your attention.
On this mural, the background images were inspired by posters featuring travel, science, fine arts, mathematics, health & fitness, etc. Because of the popularity of using the students in the other mural, I photographed FHS students for each of these figures, putting them into the pose I had already sketched out on my plan. I wanted these figures to really “pop,” so I made them resting on blocks that seem to project out into space. It was fun to interact with the students who came into the library. I call this mural “Inquiring Minds.”
The third mural was at the very end of the long, narrow library. It is over the “College & Career” section, and it is called, “Outlook on the Future.” I decided to go with a simpler, more graphic design, but still wanted to play with scale and three-dimensionality. The background of this design includes a college building, a (long and) winding road, fields of blue, and a city in the back ground. The sky is full of gears, one with a compass, pointing the way to go. A lone figure stands atop a stack of books, looking at the future. In the foreground is a large book, that seems to be balanced atop the bookcase, with a graduation cap on top of it. The tassle really fools the eye, looking like it pops right off the wall. It has been fun to see the students and staff come into the library and try to decide if that book is real or not. They often have to go up close to find out.
This is the final mural I painted for the library, in the fiction section. I wanted this one to be loose and fun, with a graphic, pop art look. I included references to 16 fiction books, two non-fiction books, and one really great bard. This is very close to the entry mural, and is visible from the second floor of the school, through glass windows.
The library hosted a reception for me today, and it was great to hear the responses of all those who were seeing the murals for the first time. It’s always interesting to see how each mural appeals to people in a different way. Some prefer the realism of “Connection” and “Inquiring Minds,” while others are drawn to the more stylized designs of “Outlook on the Future” and “Imagine.” I love the fact that hundreds (thousands?) of people will get to enjoy them for many years. That’s very gratifying. This project has been a great experience for me, and I hope that it makes the library an even more appealing place for the students of FHS to hang out.
So, I’ve been working in my studio. Earlier in the month I spent a great deal of effort fretting about what to make. That’s really a bad state to be in. Wanting to make art, but not knowing what to make. Fortunately, I got myself together, and gave myself a reminder to just enjoy the act of making art. Quit worrying about the outcome. Then I let myself play.
Before I knew it, I was brushing, scraping, spraying, glazing, running, layering, and gluing. I made myself conscious of how the paint moved on the canvas. I stuck my fingers in it, and it felt good! I watched it run as I sprayed water into the wet paint. I saw the color change as I glazed over the yellow paint with a dull purple. I set it aside and begin again on a new surface. The monster had been unleashed.
Right now, I have four new large canvases and twelve new small ones in the works. While I wait for the inspiration for a new image to hit, I continue to play. Laying the foundation. Painting layer after layer. Building up texture. Building up layers of meaning. Maybe the image I create when I am playing will be the end result, or maybe it won’t even be visible by the time I am done. Who knows? I have to trust my instincts and know that my subconscious is a better artist than I’ll ever be.
“To live a creative life, we must lose the fear of being wrong. “ - Joseph Chilton Pearce
Over the past couple of years, this has become my creative motto. It speaks to me very personally. I am by nature a perfectionist of sorts, terribly afraid of being wrong. Mostly not wanting to look stupid.
I’m not sure how this became such a part of who I am, but it’s been there a long time.
When it comes to art, don’t we all feel like we’re wrong at some point? I have sat through many, many art history classes, all of which held up artists as geniuses of their time. And I agree that many were indeed geniuses. I’ve critiqued their work. I’ve stood in awe. But some of them really just knew how to work the system. And sometimes I thought, “What? This is art?” Because, as we all know, art these days is so subjective that it’s hard to say what art is anymore. I like some of it. I hate some of it. Most of it I can at least appreciate. But you have to admit it, most of what is considered “modern” and “it” in the art world now really isn’t very pleasant to look at.
Yes, I know that’s the point, ok. But it still doesn’t make me want to look at it. So there. It is visual art, for crying out loud.
And so what if I’m wrong? I’m not afraid of being wrong anymore, remember?
So this leads me back to my own creativity….. over and over again as I’m working in my studio, I have to remind myself to enjoy my creativity. Stop thinking so hard and have some fun at it. Play. Experiment.
I’m still working on losing my fear, I guess. But I’m a lot closer than I was this time last year. And the year before….
The “Color: Between the Lines” show has been success. Thanks to all who were able to make it out so far, and thanks to all of you who live to far away to attend but sent me your good karma anyway.
Putting together an art exhibit is quite the task, and I can really appreciate the benefit of having a gallery handle it for you (although we were not privileged to that benefit in this case). In addition to making half of the art in the show, we’ve spent weeks preparing biographies, planning the menu and trying to invite anyone and everyone we could possibly think of. Then there was updating my web site, sending e-mails, updating Facebook, etc., etc. I may sound like I’m complaining, but really I’m not. As hectic as it is, I rather enjoy all of the prep work. And I feel very privileged to have the opportunity. It really is a lot of work, though. All in the hopes of baring your soul to the world (or rather a small circle of friends and aquaintances) and hoping to break even. What a romantic life, being an artist.
In addition to the reception, I’ve been up to the gallery space a few other times to show friends and family my work. Each time I had to take my daughters, they kind of groaned under their breath, saying “But we’ve already seen it fifty times.” Experts in hyperbole. Not yet experts in flattering their mother. Makes me wonder how they’ll remember their childhood……”My mother used to make me go sit still in the galleries where her art work was on display. We’d have to look at the same boring things over and over and over. It was absolute torture…”
The show closes this Friday. The gallery will be open Friday night from 5-8pm, so if you still haven’t seen it and want to, please come by. Thanks to T. Scott Stromberg and his wife Sammie for all of their work in pulling this show off, too!
I got a text Tuesday morning from my husband. He must have sent it on his way to work, but it was a couple of hours later before I read it (because it’s summer and it should be a crime to be up that early anyway). The message said “Happy Bastille Day!”
It was seven years ago that he and I were sitting on a huge lawn with thousands of other people from all over the world. It was our first trip to Europe, and it just so happened to be one of the most magical days of my life.
We started the day by sleeping in–a decision that I’ve since come to regret just a little. I am by nature a night owl, and it didn’t get dark there until about 11pm, so roaming around at night was just too tempting. We loved being out late in Paris, and were ever amazed at seeing all the old ladies out at the street cafes at two in the morning (my kind of gals). I guess to make up for our tiredness, we made the mistake of taking too many afternoon naps, instead of “pushing through” like all the tourist books tell you to do. For whatever reason, we never seemed to overcome our jetlag on that trip, and needless to say our sleeping schedule was really messed up.
So when we got up that morning, we turned on the TV to see what was going on to celebrate the French Independence day. We discovered there would be a huge parade traveling down the Champs Elysees, and even the President Jacques Chirac was to be there! (I think it would have been awesome to see a world leader at some point in my life). However, by the time we got up and dressed and decided to go see what was going on, we pretty much missed the good stuff. We did see the airplanes on TV, and then a minute later saw them fly right over our hotel. We rushed to the window to watch them in the small patch of sky between the hotel and the apartment buildings across the street. A quick, fleeting moment of adrenaline.
We left the hotel and traveled via metro to the Champs Elysees just to see….I don’t know what we expected, really, since we figured the parade was over. When we got there, there were still hoards of people everywhere, but much of the street was roped off and we saw a lot of security and police. Rumor had it that a gunman had tried to shoot the President! (I must have heard someone say that in English, because I never could have deciphered that in French.) Really? And we missed it? Part of me was disappointed, and part of me was relieved.
It had been less than a year since the attacks of September 11, 2001, so I think everyone’s sense of wariness was still high. Strangely, I did get to see one of the NYC firetrucks as it was making it’s way from the parade, an honored guest of the Parisians. A bizarre feeling of patriotism came over me. How odd to be in another country on their independence day (France of all places), and seeing that Americans were being honored.
After our curiosities were satisfied at the Champs Elysees, somehow we meandered around town, and eventually ended up at the Notre Dame cathedral. Not thinking about the fact that it was Sunday, we were pleasantly surprised that there was a mass going on. I’m pretty sure that was probably the first and only mass I’ve attended. And it was so surreal to me. Here I was in one of the most famous cathedrals in the world. The same cathedral I once had to memorize inside and out in an art history class. There were the altar boys, the other clergy, the music, the sculptures, the windows… and lots of French people who called this church their home. And then there were all of us tourists crowded around the periphery, just staring at it all. I personally don’t believe that God resides any more in a cathedral than he does anywhere else in the world, but that moment it seemed like he was very close to me, and that this was a very special gift from him. Really a dream come true. How could it get any better?
Well, it did. That evening, we stopped by the little Chinese food restaurant next door for some “take away” and a bottle of wine before cramming ourselves onto the metro. Actually, we waited for several trains to come though before realizing that they were only getting more crowded and that it was either walk to the Eiffel Tower from our Montparnasse hotel, or just jump on and know we were probably going to irritate the other passengers. We got there a couple of hours early, I think, and found a great spot on the lawn. We spread out our blanket, had our picnic of Chinese food and a great bottle of red wine. Then, when it got dark, we watched fireworks dance in the sky behind the Eiffel Tower, as we heard stories of inspiration about Victor Hugo over the speakers (of which I understood about 2%). I just kept thinking in my head, “This is real, this is real, this is real.”
I believe that experience on Bastille Day 2002 helped give me the faith that anything can happen. Even when you’re not really expecting it. Especially then, I guess. After that trip, I started making decisions that would effect my life and career as an artist. Increasingly, I decided to go for it. Pourquois pas?
For a while now, I’ve been feeling the need to write. I used to love journaling. I’ve got volumes of poems, prose, stories of my life from when I was a teenager (Oh, the drama!). I used my journal — a very large three-ring binder — to let out my frustrations, my longings, my ideas, my passions, and all the things that I knew no one else would understand. These writings began as an assignment from my favorite English teacher. Most of my classmates would moan in distain each time she announced a new set of writing tasks and due dates. But I relished every moment of it, and couldn’t wait to live life so I would have something to write about.
And so here I am, twenty years later. Haven’t “had” the time to slow down and write much. It has seemed like a luxury that I can’t afford. House. Kids. Job. Husband. Volunteering. Just too much to do. And then there’s this art thing. You know, I could be painting right now.
But I’m at the point right now that I don’t think I can afford not to write. As my youngest daughter, Sophie, said a while back, “I’ve got all these thinky-things floating around in my head.” As she said this, she moved her hands in a swirling motion on either side of her head. My husband and I laughed and he said, “Yes, I’m sure you do!”
I totally get that! She put into words how I feel about 95% of the time. These Thinky Things are so noisy that they pretty much drown out everything else, and keep me from being focused on anything. Even this morning as we were driving to church, we passed the art center where I’m having a show this month, and a million “to do’s” popped up into my head like spam in a trash folder. My husband, who knows me so well, heard my sigh, and said, “I can see the wheels turning. Are you thinking about all the things you need to do?”
Yep. And starting a blog was very high on my priority list. (check!) Sure, I think it’s a good way to communicate with my friends and “fans.” But more than anything, it’s going to be a way for me to put all of those Thinky Things in their place!
Some of these works have text only, and some include imagery. 
