I am impatient with my art-making. Granted, there is much going on in my life. My energy to create is undiminished, but the stuff of life, which has included a car requiring repair, holiday gifts being bought and packaged, and the usual financial juggling, has taken a bite out of my time in the studio. The art-making goes on, but has been mostly drawing, with only a little painting. The drawings are leading me in their new approach. I find manipulating, while making, very exciting. The give and take of seeking and finding form, composition, color, and light, absorbs me fully. This manner of activity touches my psyche and soul. It exudes who I am, from intellect to spirit. The first drawing I made yesterday (above) was found over hours, rather than minutes. The erasing was as important to the drawing as the markings with pencil. The manipulation of the graphite marks was akin to adding and subtracting clay as one builds a ceramic object. This fashioning of form and composition consumed me; for those hours nothing but the activity of creating existed. Knowing this is the most legitimate activity has inspired me to seek the same in painting. Yesterday I stretched a new canvas. I hope to begin a new painting today, working from this intuitive center.
Today the drawings are displayed in their actual color, rather than in gray scale. The slightly warm paper seemed important. The second drawing (below) was a playful lark, a celebration of finding core.
A final note in a series of questions: Could I be working toward process as the subject of my art? Might I be moving toward replacing image, allegory, metaphor, and mythology with the examination and celebration of process? Is process the ultimate display of our existence?
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