Gladiolas are a favorite flower and this was an exceptionally beautiful bunch, and while past prime, the richness of its color is still amazing. No they aren’t from my garden but a perfect segue . . . to being in the garden. My spring garden project this year was growing one of my botanical nemeses, wild flowers from seed. I lavished my attentions on garden endeavors providing a welcome distraction from the fits and starts that momentarily defined my studio efforts. This one took its bloody sweet time and having survived my relentless attacks, earned naming. Long Shores Meddling Beast #181After all that, back to something a little less chaotic, some space to breath. It’s inspired by the memory of a tranquil afternoon, backpacking in the Grand Canyon, watching the sun set on The Howlands Butte. The butte is named after two brothers killed in the canyon by Shivwits Indians in 1869. I’d started work on this canvas over a year ago then promptly ignored it. Now its mood fit mine and so back to work. Figures pirouette crimson in a misty field of ghostly white . When I set a Trap for You in an Appropriate Floating Reflection #151 .Pieces. I’ve a list of criteria guiding how and when I cut and reassemble, and #151 checked all the boxes. Take a photo of the painting. Print several copies. Cut into pieces. Paste together. Photograph. Print. This is what I got. A six inch by seven inch image, and a ledge to jump from.Landing here. Sideways on top. More pieces. Pieces of then. Pieces of now. This amalgamation driving the work forward. A synthesis of experiences molded by the passage of time and finding the words to name it. At the moment it’s just canvas #7. Thirty by thirty inches. In development.The process. Something to use. This time it’s pictures of the twisted, bent and knotted. Shot in close and tight, capturing the language of circumstance with a story to tell. And this is where they end up. Taped to the studio painting wall. A methodology authenticating belief. Images manipulated, themes extracted, geometries applied, perceptions tuned to desires needs.
This is my most recent pesky problem. I’m nibbling around the edges, to no avail. So I just look at it. and wait. Then ignore it, and wait. Look at it, and wait. Thing is, there’s always an open-ended space somewhere in there, a questing needing a proper answer, and dumping some thoughtless thing into that space, simply because I can, defeats the purpose. So I’m ok with the patience and perseverance the process requires.
I don’t get tied up in creative knots. I just go where curiosity leads, and most recently, that’s constructing compact stage-like vignettes. These interludes begin where the narrative qualities of the paintings leave off. Looking in on medium large nuts and bolts.
O’ Those Beach Days. The customs of a well polished routine, illustrated.
Wherever your summer happens to take you . . . have a good one . . . and thanks for reading.
How to Assemble the Kite is the other one. Eleven drawn, cubed, and liberally applied to one seventy-nine.
I like the process of melding these identities. The mixing of fragments to an ordered fashion. Steps faithfully followed and applied to canvas. Its structure, a guiding principle, woven into the fabric of transformation.
It started with the temporary sculptures. Mostly small assembled groups of things, digitally documented, the pieces dispersed. Now the parts stay together. Stories collected, intermingled and named. Machine painting the end of time and the hole to fall into.