Finding Bokusho History...

B.NENDO (clay) - 36x36 - mixed media

  
I don't use the elements of Bokusho in my work the way I once did, usually just a portion of the canvas will feature the abstract ink calligraphy that I spent several years studying and developing... but the muse is not entirely quiet and given the time needed to focus, I do hope to eventually work in this manner again. (Available series images here.)

I was delighted to find this article from the Japanese Times, which includes the art of two early practitioners of Bokusho.  As those who have followed this blog over a number of years know, one of the 'side steps' in my painting was time spent developing an abstract calligraphic technique which I associated with bokusho after a good bit of on line research. Google Alert lets me know when the word pops up but it's usually connected with rock bands, etc. Very seldom does it give me this type of gem! This is a clip of the article that pertains to two artists included in the exhibition.

Tradition that hides in abstraction

By MATTHEW LARKING

(...) In the calligraphy world from around 1945, the lexical foundation that served a communicative role for millennia became subject to fissuring. Morita Shiryu (1912-98) is taken as the representative practitioner of bokusho (ink images) in the present exhibition. He thought the abandonment of the lexical basis of calligraphy to be universalizing and that it rose to the challenges presented by the black-and-white abstractions of American painters such as Franz Kline.

The character for "so" in "So" ("Deep Blue") becomes almost visually unrecognizable, though it retains enough of the direction of the brush to suggest the stroke order with which viewers may retrace its governing character structure. Appending a title to an artwork — as is the art world convention — however, returns Morita's abstractions to their lexical basis that ostensibly he was attempting to dissolve.

Lyrical calligraphy: Insho Domoto's "Symphony" (1961) shows a move from hard-edged abstraction to a softer, calligraphic one. KYOTO PREFECTURAL INSHO-DOMOTO MUSEUM OF FINE ARTS

The focus of this exhibition centers on the abstractions of Hisao Domoto's uncle Insho (1891-1975)that began from the mid-'50s, though the works on show are less the geometrical abstractions of that time than his more elegantly lyrical ones of the early '60s. The shift from hard-edged abstraction to a kind of lyrical calligraphy is again ostensibly at the suggestion of Tapié who, on his 1957 visit, saw Insho's traditional screen paintings of gourds at Kyoto's Toji Temple and subsequently sought out the artist. Exhorting that the world was enamored with Japanese calligraphy and the spirit of Zen, Insho's work became more calligraphic and he gave his abstractions Buddhist titles. (...) 

The Beat Goes On...

2010 - B. SHIO (tide) - 40x66

Been producing but I haven't posted new work here since January... no, I showed a couple of ab/landscapes in March but somehow that doesn't really count these days. I'm fighting this recurring urge to switch back and forth between venues and am determined to stay focused. Bokushos need to be my main gig... I want to see them be all they can be and that means cut out the frivolous stuff... at least for now.

I truly love the process... how the square collage pieces of ink on rice paper turn my mind on to so many possibilities. Granted, all those options can confuse and conflict but all the better. Change... pentimento, even... is as much a part of my process as paint on canvas. "How's it look this way?" um... not so hot... "Oh, I know what it needs!" Oops, maybe not. And before you know it, a rich patina of thoughts and process has built up and... the painting is better for it.

Trick is: to call a halt to all that process! I'm showing a couple of recently named and documented paintings here that are already telling me they need more studio time. (Okay... maybe only one since Blogger thinks one is enough tonight.)

So... the beat goes on...

It's All Relative...

1984 - PALMETTO 3 - w/c - 22x30

I'm not really into self-help books but am a big believer in positive thinking. On a recent drive to the lake house, I caught a book review on NPR's 'Here and Now' ("Counterclockwise," by Dr. Ellen Langer) which really grabbed my attention. As you know, a few years ago we repurchased a house we'd lived in back in the early to mid '80's... since it's on a lake and only an hour away, we've had a great time fixing it up. Lots of hard work but worth it in more ways than I'd ever imagined. Our own personal 'togetherness' and watching the g-kids enjoy swimming and boating during family get-togethers... and personally, getting a whole lot of exercise!

It's a long article but the part I heard on NPR begins with this short paragraph: "I told him that I didn’t know if anything would change as a result of the study, but he might have a good time for a week. He agreed to join us." which is about halfway through the article.

In essence, a controlled study showed that by putting a group of elderly men in a time warp situation for a week where everything (tv, radio, newspapers) is 1958 and you don't even mention anything that's happened since, they improved remarkedly both physically and mentally in just that short time. An earlier study had shown the difference in giving nursing home patients a plant to 1) take care of, or 2) let the aides take care of. The first group became much more involved and attune to more than just the plant. The theory is that we don't need to follow the assumed aging process... there are workarounds!

I didn't really listen closely because I immediately realized the similarities with our own situation and thought about when J and I are working on one project after another at our 'time warp' place, we are much more involved and attune there than when we come back home and each of us go to 'our separate corners' and resume a slower, more suitable pace. I think just being able to go there on occasion is enough... no plans or desire to move back, just want to try to keep up with the people we were three decades ago... and then drive back home and rest up!

This possibly also addresses why I've been so adamant about regaining my earlier, more realistic skills in artmaking. I've rejoined a weekly painting group that I'd been a member of in the 80's... no idea why... nice people, enthusiastic painters, camaraderie maybe... could be it's just a square I need to fill... or refill. I don't know how else to explain except that I expect it to have a positive affect on my future work. Um, wonder what the first signs of schizophrenia might be???

Meanwhile, back in the studio, in present time and having nothing to do with the lake house scenario, plans are well on the way to getting a new body of Bokushos lined up. Don't know what I'm going to do with them, but I'll be ready for whatever!

Catching Up...

Vermillion View - 60 x 48 - 2007

Good grief! Can't believe how bad I am at maintaining some kind of order around here! My intent was to follow the last infrequent blog entry with installation pics of my work in the new gallery... but one thing and another later, I've yet to make a photo shoot trip to see it myself! But signs of a routine reestablishing itself might make it possible. This week for sure!

So... if you don't read me on Facebook, the news is that an instate rep picked up a few paintings to try out at some fancy corporation digs... and at least one (above) might stick. No final word yet. Gotta say, this painting does not photograph well... even the rep remarked about how much better it looked in real time. Lots of nuances... layers, etc.

Am focused in the studio on transforming a couple of horizontal landscapes into big verticals for spots in a Texas hill country golf club setting... a new rep doing a good job! More on that as they come together.

So, artwise, all is well in some corners... but like many, holding my breath in others... some galleries are just flat out... well, flat. I am lucky to have a decent mix.

I'm still convinced that the Bokusho series has a future so I continue to start new efforts in that direction. Though they took off at the beginning, the follow through fell with the market (and with the closing of one gallery that had established and sold them very well.) Try as I may, when I present them first, the gallery or rep will still mix in regular abstracts or abstracted landscapes... so they never get a chance to stand alone, which is how they should be viewed. At least I did have one show of nothing but... wouldn't I love to work toward another!

To amuse myself, I recently tried to do a series of big white paintings (basically bokusho based.) That didn't last long. I've managed to introduce a softer look but white paintings remain a challenge that I accidentally attain from time to time.

And so it goes...

Blogging FB...

Five bokushos in progress... goal was white paintings but they have minds of their own.
The little landscapes along the top are leftovers from Colony...

*

Here's a blog link about one artist's discovery of Facebook... explains a lot ;)

I'm guilty... I've neglected this blog as well as reading many others that I really enjoy. FB does make staying in touch much easier and quicker... a short status update can often say as much as an entire blog post. There are times, however, when it doesn't... and the need to explore, untie the knots, really understand what I'm trying to sort out, can only be done by blogging.

So don't think I'm going away, this is too therapeutic to toss to the wind... plus it's my diary. Personal FB thoughts are lost after a page or two of status updates... probably still there but not searchable or neatly labeled (not that I label these posts anymore... I figure the Google blog search will find what I look for.)

Truth be told, I'm not certain that I have many goals left to track... I really thought with the economic turn-down that I'd quietly withdraw from the commercial scene and begin folding my studio tent... maybe retire to a hobby of sketching and watercolors. I still think this is a good plan... focus on setting records straight and maybe print out a book or two to pass down in the family... but basically, move on. Seems there's still a bit of momentum left in the career, however, and a new possibility sends me scurrying to see what I can catch... I'm as competitive as ever. Drat!

It's Still A Good Time!

It was good... it was very, very good! From the NOLA side step to the spring drive through three states with one beautiful sweep of wildflowers after another. Two audio books held my attention and made the miles fly by. And then the welcoming hugs by both old and new friends at Colony... everyone needs a peer group like this to touch base with over the years! The guest artist, Harry Ally, was right up my alley... delighted to make his acquaintance and that of his artist wife, Suzanne (a new blog and Facebook friend!)

The painting went well... at least I proved to myself that oils are still a possibility, but I don't feel a strong pull in that direction... mainly just got it out of my system for the time being. Face facts, I couldn't find anything that suggested that oils would contribute anything to my process that acrylics couldn't do quicker, just as well and more intuitively. We're talking about MY process here... no offense to you oil enthusiasts out there, I admire it and wouldn't be continuously trying to make it work for me if I didn't appreciate the quality. But I've yet to make oil magic happen for me.

So here I am... home, but slightly still in transit. I'm pleased, very pleased, to have been awarded the important Purchase Award blue ribbon for work that has not been appreciated on it's round of galleries and had been absorbed into my own personal collection... you know the type, you love it and see it's worth but it's sales potential is, um... well... I was told that the corporation that sponsored the award has a really fine contemporary collection and will be happy with the judge's selection. I feel good about it's new home.

Now to figure out what's next...

Road Trip... Colony and Beyond...

----

2008 - Construct 1 and 2 - 48x24 @ - mixed media

Monday morning I'll leave for NOLA with about a dozen paintings to deliver. I had planned to deliver a commission based on the Construct pieces above... but larger. Turns out they aren't in a hurry and we need to work together to be sure all is right with color nuances, etc. A deposit has been made and these people have bought other work of mine so I'm feeling good about the arrangement... and very relieved that I have more time to devote to the painting.

I'll also get a quick g-kid fix and on Tuesday I'll check in at Mississippi Art Colony, a return to a great art retreat after too long an absence. Located in central rural Mississippi, at the well appointed Camp Henry Jacobs (no relation.) Returning home the following Sunday.

The visiting artist for this session is Harry Ally, an artist whose work I've admired since spotting it in an Atlanta gallery years ago. It will be fun to meet and hear from the artist himself... and pick his brain for all it's worth! His wife, Suzanne, is also an artist and will be joining us. I've met her via Facebook and Twitter and I've no doubt she will add a fun element to the mix. She's promised to report with video and comments about the experience so if you're interest, sign up! Her blog link is on her website and you can get to FB and Twitter from there if interested in keeping up. I may be able to upload an occasional photo or blurb to FB but will focus on getting the most out of Colony and chatting it up with a bunch of good artist friends.

The amazing thing... and I'm sure this is true all over... is that really good art is not confined to the big galleries in big art centers... in fact, there are a good dozen or two in this group who could hold their own with any of the big $$$ artists you can name. I see this everywhere I go... and it's one of the disappointing aspects of visiting NYC or Santa Fe... like hey! I know people who paint better than this! It will be good to be with them again and feel that current! I'm going to be so jazzed!

Read more >> Options >>

Gearing Up For Colony

2009 - B. Paiji (pages) - 48x38 - mixed media

It's been a long time... didn't realize I miss it so. In the beginning, around 1986 or 87 when I first learned of Mississippi Art Colony and signed up, I attended religiously every spring and fall. Never daring to miss out on the benefits of working with my peers and absorbing whatever the visiting artist (not instructor, everyone works independently) chose to part with. Some were able to deal with the hungry crowd of 45-50 better than others... stopping to talk at each personal work area at least once if not twice a day can be a trick... especially if he/she gets caught in the web of one of our talkative little southern social types! But most did their best and we were all the better for it... more than a few exclaimed that they learned as much from us as we did from them. Well... the regulars include teachers on college level and a number of professionals in their own right. We all have something to give... and that's what's so remarkable about this group, there's a lot of giving going on.

So what happened that I began to slack off and skip sessions, and finally not attending at all for a number of years. Well, thanks to Colony, I began having a lot more confidence in my work and my own career began to take off. There's only so much energy to go around and gallery inventories began sucking it all up... a good thing for sure, I'm not complaining. Then we moved from NOLA to B'ham and I was still in studio mode much of the day... my social life became more entwined with the Internet and less with real life participation. I knew few artists locally, very few.

But being busy has a way of hiding details like this, until one day you realize what you're missing. Fortunately, I do have a number of real life friends scattered around nearby states... and many of them are Colony regulars. So I look forward to getting back in the Colony habit, becoming a regular again. Kickoff is Tues, April 21, and proceeds through the following Sunday morning.

I'll be working small oil studies, using techniques that have long been on my mind since Rebecca Crowell pointed out the magic of cold wax. My encaustic supplies have long been packed away, hot wax had a good run but it's over... so now I'll try it cold! And since in my early enthusium I bought a gallon of the stuff, I'm more than ready to go! Not knowing how to work with trial sizes means I have super size tubes of oils on hand as well. Now to sweet talk my personal carpenter into building a few more panels...

Shen Wei

UPDATE... A comment by the director of this dance group links to a must-see video... go to the second one, the first is no longer available. I couldn't get music with my viewing but the movements say it all... Thanks Brett!

Watching the opening night ceremonies in Beijing, my mind boggled with not only the concepts but the executions of so many ideas... so beautifully done. Then on CBS's Sunday Morning (quality TV!) we're introduced to Shen Wei, the choreographer. As I write this I'm searching for video of the particular dance that leads to this post but can only find these stills of the huge scroll ink painting performed by just a few dancers, compared to the huge numbers in the most photographed segments. It was mesmerizing on opening night... and moreso as CBS focused on the dancer/dancers involved... incredible!

So... back to me... my bokusho technique is to mimic the studied masters on fairly large rice paper, focusing on the brush, the move, the result... then to rip it into squares, mix them up and go from there. Would that I was still agile enough to do it Shen Wei's way! On his site, he shows a performance which involves smearing the dancers with paint (Yves Kline, anyone?) and having them create life size bokusho paintings... oooh, that would be fun! The dance/painting in Beijing only involved the hands of the dancers... covered with ink loaded 'socks'. The movements were beautifully stunning!

Image from Shen Wei's web site, not part of Opening Ceremony

Talking Points

"I don't always know what I think until I hear myself say it
...and then I don't always agree." kj

----------<>----------

According to a few comments re the last post suggesting that we 'shut up and paint,' I'm reminded that that's pretty much what we do here in ArtBlogVille... talk about it. Should we all revert to simply posting examples of our work with size and title? I don't think so. Is it the work in progress that should be off limits until a certain point in time? That depends on you and your personal needs and reactions. Some are stifled by saying too much about their works in progress and some are invigorated. I've experienced both.

I have something to say... matters not if anyone listens. This is my journal... my career roadmap which once was marked only by slides, clippings, ledgers and databases. Now, if one of my descendants should ever care to know more about their artist ancestor, it will be there for them. Wouldn't I love to have this kind of record to read about one of my grandmothers! I know traces of them are within me... but faded photos tell little and now that I have questions it's way too late to ask. Is that my primary reason for blogging? Dunno.

Verbal communication doesn't come easy for me... always regretting that I said too much or not enough. Standing mute when I can't get a word in edgewise or am verbally stepped on when I do. Writing it out means I can edit what I have to say (not always correctly) and check 'sent' emails to remember what I did say... exactly! And given the time to do it, I can uncover much more of what I really think by funneling it through a keyboard. Try it on for size, see that it fits or not, delete or save. I know myself better this way.

Recent trip to deliver paintings to a gallery included several from the Bokusho series. Thought a few words to the gallery on the background of the series would be appropriate... the meaning of the word, how it came about, technique involved... talking points if needed to push a sale over the edge. Never mind... who cares? The finished work has to stand on it's own now... few potential buyers will care beyond color, size and personal feelings for the composition... or maybe they'll be attracted to the surface quality. Face it... I'm just not in the type of galleries where anything beyond trends and styles matter. They toss around words like 'your collectors' but that means nothing. Somebody's got a big house or business with walls to fill and a couple of my works fit. My collectors indeed. ((Hey! I love and appreciate them all... every last one!)) But what do I know... there's a barrier that separates artist and 'collector' and seldom do either meet in a meaningful way. At least on my level.

Never-the-less... Thanks to the comments from readers who do follow my wanderings, I was able to focus on a single series for a full year and brought an idea to a polished conclusion. I honestly doubt that I could have done that alone. It's a series that had to be talked about, had to be discussed and even approved. I needed that feedback in order to stay committed. I may never return to that series, I worked every aspect and there are no new thoughts to explore. It's all been said, both visually and spoken.

Next challenge: that elusive signature landscape series...

Returning Work

Works In Progress

Two white vans pulled up in my cul de sac yesterday... one from an out of state gallery, one from an out of state artist. They met at my place to exchange work for the artist's upcoming show, and for the gallery to return work to me and to the other artist. Nice that more galleries are taking on some of this trafficking business. I served iced tea and stuff but we stood in the kitchen for our brief chit-chat... then I gave a quick tour of the studio, not that it's such a great studio, but it's good for gallerists to know their artists spaces.

"Landscapes? I didn't know you did landscapes!"

"You want landscapes? I can do landscapes for you."

"And I saw some of your long box construction pieces at another gallery... any chance we can get some of those?"

"Not a problem." (mental note to self for J to start building boxes... a studio side step that hadn't really found an audience.)

Later: "You know the best thing about your studio? There aren't big stacks of paintings sitting around!" That made me smile... I worked a long hard road to get to that point, to have enough galleries to store and occasionally sell the stuff. 'Course she didn't see my storage room with lots of rejects from along that road.

--------------------------<>---------------------------

Well, there are a bunch stacked around now! Fourteen paintings were returned, mostly little guys, some old, some very new. Color, everybody wants color. Bokusho's are notoriously short on color... I now have a body of work to push on down the road... Atlanta, are you ready?

So what have I learned from this exchange? I've had two recent shows that featured mostly black and white (some red, a little ocher) and although both sold respectably, the older work is obviously preferred. I can dig that (volleyball expression recently acquired where a player reaches low and far for control of the ball.) These paintings from the Bokusho series are fine. They just have to find an audience that will appreciate them. In the meantime, I will focus on work that I know already has an audience... I aim to please... I can dig it!

PS... big grin... they kept a bunch of BIG stuff... I've long felt that so many little paintings proliferating most galleries meant I needed to focus on big!

Memphis Flyer Review

Carol Knowles of the Memphis Flyer recently reviewed my show as follows:

Karen Jacobs' exhibition at Perry Nicole Fine Art is another ingenious mix of culture and genre. For "Bokusho" (Japanese for abstract brushwork), this St. Louis artist painted thousands of calligraphic strokes onto hundreds of scraps of canvas collaged into complex grids.

At the center of a particularly evocative painting, Construct II, ragged rectangles float in a pattern reminiscent of a kimono with arms stretched-out. Rather than honoring biological ancestors, Construct II's nuanced background, irregular geometric shapes, and expressive gestures pay homage to abstract calligraphers and other artists who have influenced Jacobs' style, including Hans Hofmann, Mark Rothko, and Richard Diebenkorn.

Enso is the Zen symbol for circle of enlightenment. In one of Jacobs' most powerful works, Enso Red, the dark-red background looks like the page of a book that has been written on, scraped off, and used again and again. The large calligraphic gesture at the center of the painting is frayed and scumbled. Pieces break off near its nadir. Instead of suggesting Platonic or Zen perfection, Jacobs' circle brings to mind the Japanese aesthetic of "wabi-sabi," the beauty of the natural cycles of growth, decay, and death. Here is the passion and pathos of existence, of life devouring life to sustain itself.

Karen Jacobs: "Bokusho" at Perry Nicole Fine Art through May 29th

----------<>----------

Only a couple of small mistakes... I'm not a St. Louis artist and my marks are made on rice paper not canvas scraps. No biggie, I'm pleased. Carol called me prior to submitting the review to double check a few things and was very complimentary of my work, has been following it, promised a single page review when I have my next solo at the gallery. (May have to rethink the 'no more solo shows' declaration???) Just take it as it comes, KJ!

Poison Ivy

Bokusho - Dansu (dance) 43x36

It's Baackkk! What devil plant pops up just after dogwoods and azaleas have finished a riotous spring display? Especially in woodlands that have seen little or no interference for many years? You got it! It's the one downside to this adventure of reclaiming a lakeside, woodland residence we sold and rebought after 20+ years. My memories of total body, itchy exposure back then will never fade. So I've been taking utmost care as I rip out the long vines that run underground and up trees. Even so, I've got it again. Just one elbow area, not the big coverage... this time!

Just wanted to pass along a couple of helpful hints to battle the itch. Sometimes spit helps if nothing else is available and a spot is beginning to vibrate. Have been told by the 'good ole boys' who take down trees for us that a Clorox bath prevents an outbreak, it seemed to do the trick for me on a finger exposure once, and today I tried black coffee because I was in the middle of something and didn't want to go looking for cortisone cream (which is useless for me anyway.) Twice now, a few drops of coffee has caused the itch to completely cease within moments!

Tying in to this conversation in ways you might not get at first, is the above painting, also recently completed. I'd been trying to work stripes into this series ever since a saw a loooong horizontal striped sumi-e painting in a Korean restaurant some months ago. The next time I had the ink and rice paper out, I pulled some long stripes to see what I could do with them, but nothing computed until I tore them up and went back to the grid. I really like the way it turned out, but look at it closely for a few moments... it vibrates! Or 'makes your eyes dance' as we used to say about certain patterns. Hence the title as well as the tie in to vibrating poison ivy spots.

Bei...

Between bits and pieces of past memories and bits and pieces of what I pick up on the web, my data can become quite skewed. I like to believe there is some element of truth in my sources, but darned if I can always trace it to fact.

....

Many years ago I studied Sumi-e, or Japanese brush painting. Not in any great depth but I did feel that it taught me to better brush control... didn't think much about the art form itself. But lots of it stuck, in particular I would often find a need for a dot of dark hovering somewhere near a main dark. I've always called these dots "bei" because that's what my teacher called them. You most often see them in or near the joints of bamboo in sumi-e paintings. Anyway, lots of times I would think or say, "What this painting needs is a little bei!" and slap down a dot of dark. But think I can find any kind of reference to bei on the Internet? Nada!

....

A few years ago (2003) I did a series of small abstracts called "Bei," part of which I'm featuring here today. The images showed up on my screen saver and I wanted to have a closer look since some could be considered early bokushos. There is a Beiten Method of Japanese painting which is a type of pointillism, so I feel the bei/dot relationship is valid in some way. Sure wish I had a fluent-in- Japanese neighbor!

These little paintings (part of a series of eight, 10x10 with maple frames) show that I CAN work with color... a challenge after limiting myself for a year. It's good to be reminded.

Weaving It Together

It began with a lot of scrap canvas edges and an idea. (I dislike waste, and I dislike stuff that piles up unused.)

The painting had promise but just hung around hoping for some drama. I thought an enso circle might be the answer but soon realized differently. Began wiping it off but some parts had already dried leaving accidental marks that were quite interesting, but it still wasn't coming together. The selvage edges of the canvas strips add a wonderful new texture and often include threads of fabric that broke free and were glued into the paint.

2007 - Bokusho Kiwa (edge) - 30x30

Time was short as the show began to finalize and I had to take some 'do or die' action on this piece or forget it. So grabbed my trusty Transparent Red Oxide (plus a dash of this and that) and had at it. Transparent Zinc White in the center allowed a bit of the earlier Enso circle to show through. The bokusho stroke means nothing, but I like the importance it assumes. It's one of my favorites in the show.

Coming and Going

Morning Sun Across The Point

You can probably guess when I'm out of pocket, either at the lake or on the run in some capacity... no new blog entries for days. Beginning to feel the pressure of the looming Feb show, though it isn't until the 23rd, I'm thinking I need more or less of this or that, whatever made me think such-and-such was a good idea... in other words, working the final details of the show with trepidation... as usual.

There was a time when I could produce a show with four weeks notice including large pieces... there was a time. No way am I a full time artist these days, my time is segmented... chopped and diced, more like it... to the point that when I do get down to the studio I've lost all continuity. No complaints, just explaining how things change. Once again (last time was about 18 mos ago) I swear off signing on for featured shows (either one or two person variety.) BTDT and I just don't need the pressure. Just keeping new work rotating through the galleries will suffice to keep me painting. I need the solitude of the studio... I don't fear losing that special time. But there is more to life and I don't want to regret not taking advantage of all that I can still do.

There will be no slow down once this show is delivered because the early May show also looms. I'm already beginning to set aside a few pieces that will give direction. I may include some of the Bokusho series but not lean as heavily on it. Sort of depends on how they are received at the Feb show. Can you tell I'm feeling a bit antsy about them? Somehow, I'm not feeling their strength as I did in the early days when I felt no limits. Pre show jitters... yikes! Wish I hadn't given so many to other galleries... maybe I need to head downstairs and try to find my original motivation.

Scraps...

Christmas dinner was a five hour progressive feast which left us all gorged... the entre was at my house so there's mucho left-overs to deal with. But I'm not talking about those left-overs today, but the basis for the (as yet unnamed) painting above.

I enjoy the process of stretching and framing my own canvases, it's a break in routine and I can do it reliably after years of trial and error. There's a big stack of trimmed off scraps in the studio closet and one day I got the bright idea to weave them into a 36" square canvas... just to see what would result. I didn't think much would come of it so I used a set of stretcher bars that aren't my usual choice... I like a more substantial stretcher. But lo! it actually has worked out rather well, and offered a ready made grid that fits right into the theme these days.

As to the painting itself, although I'm pleased with the surface, I'm recognizing my tendency to tighten up and make boring paintings. That's what happens (in my mind) when you cease to explore and set yourself on automatic in the studio. So I added a big, dark swash of Enso, the Circle of Enlightenment, then after a few minutes, thought better of it and wiped it out. But it had already begun to dry so only parts of it came off. And I liked that partial, unfinished look. It might get hung as it is, or I may get a dose of enlightenment and take it further... remains to be seen.

Game Theme

....

'Your Turn' and 'Tic-Tac-Toe' - 24x24 each

Yesterday we took to the road with paintings for the Memphis gallery as I needed to get my entries delivered for the January 'Games' theme show. I'm sure many of the artists will come up with much more game oriented paintings than I did but I used it as an excuse to continue with my own grid/bokusho theme. The "Tic-Tac-Toe" painting is too obvious for my taste, but I rather like the trial and error result of "Your Turn"... and believe me, it was one wipe-out after another from beginning to end. Often this type of frustration, if I really stick with it, will give wonderful surfaces and innuendos I could have not manufactured intentionally.

Irregularities

Bokusho - Orb - 48x48

Not much to say, just wanted to show that I'm still giving it all I've got in the studio, interspersed with hard work at the lake house. I'll give a photo update soon.

This painting was pretty much finished a month or so ago but hung in the contemplation spot over the fireplace for a long while... I feared going too far with it and finally simply put a border around it and called it done. If you note irregularities or imperfections in lining up the grids... in all my work, for that matter, it's intentional. I think my biggest problems happen (the recent Domino painting, for instance) when I fail to exaggerate the irregularities. This is particularly troublesome on large paintings... must remember that!

Unfinished

Bokusho Domino - 42 x 60 - unfinished

I won't call it a love/hate situation, maybe just uncertainty. It's a fairly large painting, has a nice, rather comfortable feel to it, but lacks drama or real depth. A surface painting with no real story to tell. Not a work that I might be inclined to gaze at repeatedly. Several walls in my living room serve as 'contemplation' spots for paintings that are near finished... this one's occupied several of them but I still don't have a direction for it. Paintings that survive this scrutiny are clearly those I can't keep my eyes off of... this one isn't calling to me, or even talking to me, suggesting new ways to work it. That's what's supposed to happen. Maybe if I expose it to the blogosphere it will shed new directional light.