Funny it is, I find this, the last day of my solo exhibition at Bromfield Gallery (Boston), a Good Thing! I just want to get back to my daily routine of making art. I am almost there. Next week my last solo show of this summer begins at Lyme New Hampshire's Converse Free Library (opens July 8). The library will exhibit mostly drawings, and a couple paintings. The Summer Juried Exhibition at AVA Gallery (Lebanon, NH) will exhibit my painting "How's It Gonna End" and a drawing (opens July 12).
Yesterday's drawing is massively worked. It took three days! This complicated manner of working on drawings is a new thing for me. Intuition is driving my steps. My path is revealing itself, surprise by surprise.
I am framing again — this time for my Bromfield Gallery exhibit (opening is June 7). I am keeping my hand in making art — drawing. The painting "How's It Gonna End" (2019 No.2) is on my work wall in state 15; it is begging me for a major change, one that should make the composition fully expressive and fully sound. That will happen soon.
As I made yesterday's drawing I felt rusty, a little out of touch with my present ideas. But here it is, and here I am. I continue on the labor of readying my paintings and drawings for the AVA Gallery exhibition; my works will be delivered this coming Friday, April 26.
In making yesterday's drawing I had to wrangle with myself; I had to force myself to focus on my two most present interests: (1) Full frontal composition akin to the means Pablo Picasso used, and (2) A greater involvement with the emotional subtleties that are available when negative space is used effectively. Yesterday's drawing approached both of these interests, but became dark and menacing as it was worked and re-worked; I hit it with an extreme amount of pencil marks. This drawing did not come easily.
Today, I finish touching-up the last two paintings going to AVA Galley, and I framed two of the four more drawings I must frame for the AVA exhibit. Perhaps I will get a chance to draw. I very much want to keep in touch with my current thoughts.
All my images annoy me. There is much work for me to do. The problems are apparent. The problems are overwhelming. Great effort is required. In 2019 I have three exhibitions; two major, one minor. I feel urgency. My acute and insistent need to get it right is not solely due to my upcoming exhibitions; mostly it is due to my sense of not feeling successful. My images have not achieved the depth and profundity I know is possible. The end for me may not be fully achievable, but I believe consistent work will bring me closer to fulfilled significance.
Here are my visual offerings for today. At this moment my need is to visually work, not to explain in writing. Come back tomorrow and see. Perhaps I will have more to say.
I feel like quoting the song, "There ain't no sunshine when she's gone." That's all I got. I have been doing stuff. Like changing my website host and my email host. You won't notice much. I hope you noticed my absence. I feel better. There has been other drama in my life as well, stuff in my personal relationships and in my studio space. Still, the only consequence was me being gone, me coming back, and the sunshine returning to here and now.
I have to stop measuring progress by the amount of hours I work in the studio, or by the amount of paintings or drawings I make. I am really going somewhere very fast. Look at today's drawing! It took me an entire studio session. When completed I had no more voice remaining. It is just one drawing, but what a drawing! It speaks volumes! During the making the knowing flowed from me like rain from the sky. How did I know to make that little butt, and that long neck? I just knew. Look at the line that begins just below my signature and date. I simply knew to go over it, twice. I knew to darken it. It required hefty thickness to play against the demanding darks and grays and forms it had to oppose in order to instigate a feeling for planer space. Then there are the eyes of the woman. No conscious thought went into their making. I did not think about accuracy. I thought, and felt, my way to their emotional narrative. This finding authenticity went on and on: another example is the woman's outstretched hand. It had to be that way. I could not stop drawing, erasing, drawing, erasing, drawing... until it was right! There is more. Her breasts! You get it? Yet I am amazed.
All of this because I took a few days away to gather energy. Creative energy is like a pool that gathers behind a dam. Use it too quickly and it will run dry. If it does run dry, step away and let the pool form again.
I did not count the marks, 1, 2, 3... a million. But I do know that it took the entire studio session to make today's drawing. Yes, this blog post is different. I am posting on the day of the drawing, not the day after. This new methodology feels right. I had hoped to get to painting but it did not happen. I had the energy to stick with solving the nitty gritty problems of this drawing as I encountered all kinds of strangeness. Getting out to studio immediately after the acts of waking and nourishment is energizing. The limit to my work is the limit of my ideas. That is exactly the description that defines today's drawing.
I am reeling from the hour, or more, that I worked on the photographic reproduction of the painting shown today. The subtlety of the actual work is not there. I could not find a way to get it there. There is something impassible that prevents authentic repercussion of a man-made piece of art. You have to see it to know it. There is no other way. Thus the reasons for museums and art galleries. Do not trust reproductions on the web! They are informative, but vastly inadequate.
I find myself low on creative energy. I do not know if I will return to art-making today. I may take a day of recovery. However, I fear a day of recovery may take me away for longer than a day. Tomorrow I will be informed of my instructions in regards to my call to jury duty. Instructions will be given for the next two weeks. This "call-in" procedure will take place on the first and third Mondays of the next two months. I will keep you informed as to my art-making schedule. All I can say is confusion. My work is going well. I will leave it with reluctance. My call to duty must be obeyed.
Unusual and usual. Whatever! The 1, 2, 3 of getting it done is not dictated by an obviously rational order of things. Yet it gets done. There is the immediate and the distant, that which is obvious now and that which will become obvious after extended time and effort. Within the little I know, I know that the work I am doing now is more authentically mine than the work I was doing a month ago. I am becoming myself through work and time. Part of this becoming myself is not clearly work but more clearly acceptance. It is me giving up the fight to come up to the standards set by the masters. It is me accepting my own innate standards, which are surprisingly new and different than anything I know through education and observation. I am, to my surprise, something that has never existed before.
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