another this is another new beginning

Each time I start a painting, I get to begin again.  Each one is like a chapter in an epic novel.  (Edit 8/15 Blah blah blah.  This making of things is a mystery.  I have no idea what I'm doing.  I just follow my intuition.  And in the painting's current state, which I'm embarassed to share, my intuition is telling me to burn it.) Sometimes they need editing.  Sometimes you want to skip over them. Sometimes they take very little time.  And that's what I thought about when I finished the first draft of the painting based on the portrait of Sherry.  I really like this silhouette and the green on black and even the texture of the paint on the black canvas.  But, that would be lazy.  I can always look back and appreciate this photograph, but I can't stop now.  Who knows what will become of her.  By the way, I'm moving on to my third religion on this one (the gospel of the media), praying to the scary wizard from the The Wizard of Oz.  Mmmm Hmm.  Because, Hunty, you know she IS the Great And Powerful Sherry.  Yes, I know, I've been watching too many RuPaul Drag Race reruns.

summertime blues

I hate summer.  Towards the end of June, I always get depressed.  Perhaps it was all the half naked bodies obnoxiously having fun on MTV Spring Break Beachouse productions during my child and teen years when I had little to do but watch television and play street tennis in the sweltering Alabama heat for short bursts until the sun chased me back inside.  Boo hoo.  But that melancholy I felt as a teenager has stayed with me all these years, and last week I could barely get out of bed.  Plus, my studio at school is on different hours--my schedule has run amok.  And to add more vitriol, my new painting hasn't been going so well.  But I kept my head down and continued picking up the brushes and hating and loving the process.  And I came up with its current condition, which I'm growing to like a little.

this is another new beginning (phase D)

I love starting a new painting.  There is only optimism and endless possibilities.  Then reality sets in and doubt returns over and over again like a bad case of bed bugs.  I finally began my painting from sculpture of the model of Cherry.  She will be the sister of Lazarus / De Kooning's Stopping By Later whatever I'm calling it these days.  I really like the idea of these religious paintings.  Although I'm not a religious manchild, there is some beauty in worship and religious stories.  But what about other religions?  Perhaps Christianity has relatives that Christians are too afraid to accept.  And if that's the case, then Cherry's alter ego might be pagan.

this is the new painting

She just needs to be shown in better light.  Edit May 23: I've actually decided that this painting is not quite finished.  I think she needs a bit more structure to her face in relation to the bottom portion of the painting, which I find ethereal and harmonious.  Until she's finished, I will leave you with her name: Our Lady of Navigators (Pigeon).  Most people think this image is decapitated, limbless, gruesome, and while this may be true from some perspectives, I believe she's being put back together again through cleansing.  I think the title might help with this idea.  And, as a digression, I believe that these paintings are a series of self-portraits.  Perhaps the last one will be an image inspired by my own person, as opposed to my spirit, which is reflected in all the models that I sculpt and then mold into a new shape and finally formed into a new role on canvas.  I keep harping on my process because I believe it to be a good one, a brave one, a patient one.  This process to me is art itself.  The paintings are just the residue.

these are steps of my painting process (part one)

I've been using these phases as I complete these paintings.  Who knows how long I'll be working on these images, but I think it might help to explain the process and then map it out.  Maybe I'll make a collage one day.  For now I'll add the first two categories to my eventual flowchart glossary.

Phase Q: when you look at a painting in a different way, and it proceeds in a new direction.

Phase A: when you buy a new canvas.

this is Phase J

Changing two little things have made a big difference to me, and brought me to phase J.  Of course I have no true idea what these letters represent . . . solely a feeling . . . but perhaps one day I'll be able to effectively communicate them to you. 

For now I'm excited to proceed with Pigeon 2.  One of my favorite people said to me last night, "Pigeon is becoming Swan."  After my mini-makeover (had her hair did), today I'll give her facial reconstruction and work on her body.  And soon the outside world will want to peek in.  I'm so excited I could just spit.

phase H

I'm returning to a familiar figure.  Pigeon was used for my first painting and I'm using her again for a new one.  I started this painting a while back but as the one previously in Phase Q (now he's in Phase U) is almost done, I've been spending more time with her.  In the beginning copying the first one on a bigger canvas was important to me, but now I'm exploring and letting things happen more.

Phase H is when you have almost all of the elements up, but something is missing, or something is too much, or the elements need some connection, or, or, or . . . and that problem needs to be solved before moving on.  It's unsettling but exciting, like exploring a new territory.

Until the answer arrives, I'll share my beautiful predicament with you.

this is phase Q

Numbers are tedious to me right now, so I've changed up my naming system.  This is the start of the next phase of one of my new paintings...this is the biggest.  The details feel tough on this one, so I've put him on his feet.

Let's see where he leads me.

this is the start of my new painting

I've only really worked on it for three or four days.  It's big....five feet by four feet.  It doesn't intimidate me, but it does feel slightly overwhelming.  And not only that, it's hypnotizing.  I love the ghost outlines I've made next to the head and I fear losing that piece of brilliance.  Happy accidents.  And I love the black and white, but an addition to the palette keeps swimming in my forethoughts.  My intuition led me to make the black area.  I trusted it and that part feels right, but it also made me make that marking next to the crook in the arm above.  And I kind of hate that.  But maybe it wasn't the painting or my intuition speaking to me.  Maybe it was me just reaching or rushing.  Now what I'm trying not to be is ambivalent because ambivalence will kill an artist.  For now I just live with it and watch it and listen.

And wait.

this is my first painting

this is the other side

The painting process is unbelievable. It's like my materials and I are communing, connected, evolving. While the process is certainly fulfilling, if I want this piece to go into the class gallery show, I have to turn it in next Thursday so that it will be ready to be hung. I'm unsure if I can finish and I don't want to present something half baked, but a classmate in my drawing class pursuaded me to put it up even if it's unfinished. So that's my plan. I will finish.

The painting rested in my window sill today...the daylight showing through exposing the layers. I thought she looked ready for a brief showing, even with a lot of work ahead.

this is the beginning

I couldn't sleep last night.

On Wednesday I met my painting teacher Frank O'Cain. He introduced himself by saying, "If you need my help, let me know. Otherwise, I'm going to think you know what you're doing and leave you alone."

After deliberating on what I would create, I decided to sketch my totem for March. Frank came around and said, make it bigger, fill the page. I did. Yesterday I debated on painting this sketch. I danced between the school art store and the studio. Then after finding out that our class would have a group showing at the end of the month, and that our paintings could be no larger than 24" x 36", I bought that size, the largest I could. And I began.

It's only a start, but after looking again and again at this photograph I took with my phone, my voice is emerging. This excitement is intoxicating. Who needs sleep?