Rhythm...

AVALON 10 - 2010 - small watercolor sketch

It comes and it goes... and all I can do is look for it when it's gone. Oh, I know where the usual stuff is, but the usual stuff isn't doing it for me right now. Blame it on the economy, the large inventory of 'usual stuff,' the fewer galleries due to closures and my own mismanagement of career. The latter is a bit of self pity, just ignore...

Such is the rhythm of life... ups and downs... and sometimes they look just alike. I've nothing to complain about... four months into the year and four fair size paintings sold... started many a good year with those meek numbers. Never know what tomorrow will bring. Surprise is the name of the game. Yadda, yadda...

So... I take this time to 'play'. That is, to explore a few side roads, see what's off the beaten path. About every ten years I get this itch and sometimes a major direction change happens, sometimes just a fun drive around and then back on track. Change, btw, doesn't happen overnight... usually takes several years of overlapping styles/mediums to notice a change actually happened. But it's usually pretty distinct, such as moving from grasses to patterns, then to canvas and abstract... and on to geometrics. A bunch of other, smaller sidesteps not mentioned but they contributed to the overall rhythm of change.

I'm in the hunt again but I don't know what I'm hunting for. So I sketch a lot, mess around a bit with watercolor, nothing big, just looking, hoping to spot something I might become passionate about. Until then, my rhythm is a bit off...

Back To Port Gibson

I drove four hours to Jackson, picked up the Natchez Trace and planned to exit just behind George Ann's house... but lost in the exquisite view, I soon found myself way past her exit. Correction made, we went on to what is becoming an annual ritual, a fine beet salad lunch then shopping for bread, cheese and fruit at Fresh Market... then took the Trace all the way to Port Gibson. Such a remarkable drive, slowed to 50 mph, watching for deer and having a good catch up conversation.

We arrived Friday afternoon in rain but awoke Sat morn to bright, crisp fall weather... so clean everything sparkled, making it hard to decide where we wanted to paint. We'd covered much of the historic elements in previous visits so this time drove toward the river (the Mississippi changed course many years ago, making the 'port' in Port Gibson just a historical curiosity.) After stopping for photographs several times, we elected to stay as a group and set up in Grand Gulf Military Park... as much for their convenient 'facilities' as for the assortment of artful views.


That left just half a day to produce... I matted all six of my efforts, though none deserved the effort. I really must do more watercolors so I'm not so hampered by unfamiliarity. I love the medium and spent years with w/c as my primary process... but it's unforgiving and carries a grudge when it doesn't get enough attention! My bad...


Small towns must watch scheduling conflicts, making sure the crowd you want to attract to your event isn't committed elsewhere... consequently, we again found ourselves competing with Halloween for the combination opening of the Fall Traveling Colony Show and Paint Day Auction. The setting was at Gallery 621, the special province of good friend and fine artist Constance Keith Alford. The last Halloween 'Paint Day' date proved successful with a fine attendance, but this year they were caught between the holiday, a BIG estate auction and, I understand, the funeral of a prominent local. The loyal friends of the gallery did attend and additional ambiance was provided by a local guitarist/singer who performed just outside in clear and slightly crisp weather. It was still light since clocks hadn't yet been turned back so with doors opened to the street and music, the expanded venue was all the more enjoyable.


This event in past years can be seen here: 2008, and 2007. Keith does such a great job organizing and hostessing, always such fun to be with her and the other artsy friends.


(My paintings buds were happy for me when I located my misplaced camera ;)

Inspiration...

2006 - The Optimist - 60x36

Speaking of inspiration... (which I just did in the last post... the Raku bowl I couldn't resist adding to my collection) I wanted to mention another source we artists are sometimes hesitant to admit: the inspiration we find in each other.

First... I love... LOVE... the way we can interact with others of like mind around the world. I've had notes from artists from all corners, wish I'd kept a file, it always amazes me. A few days ago an email came from Ghislaine Bruno, a French artist who was almost apologetic that she had been inspired by one of my paintings and had used a shape from it in a linocut composition, which she promised never to market. Considering past experiences when my whole website had been highjacked for commercial purposes, I found her admission delightfully refreshing.

Funny how we are quick to name dead or very old famous artists that have inspired us to paint the way we do... but don't dare mention that by studying a peer's work you got a jump start on a new direction or a better way. Ummm... I usually keep mum as well... wouldn't want people to think I'm anything but original! Yet funny how so much of what we "all" do... has been done, usually many times over.

So back to my story... Ghislaine's inspiration came from the above painting... please visit her blog to see the terrific linocut that includes the Enso, a symbol I borrowed from centuries of Japanese artists...

Decor...

'Odyssey' In The Contemplation Spot

Confession... I subscribe to several home decor blogs, maybe because of ongoing renovation at the lake house, maybe because I think it's relevant to keep up with what's "in style" since I'm in the business of catering to that 'style'. Not one to be out and about in social mode in recent years I don't see much of what's being bought and sold these days so I take my cues online.

Decor has nothing to do with art, right? Wrong! Well, maybe on a certain level... when art is more commodity than interaction but for the rest of us, we are basically in the business of pleasing varying and morphing tastes, our own included. So it's good to know what "taste" currently looks like... and there's a lot of that going around out there. Apartment Therapy is a biggie and very prolific... a fun browse not limited to small apartments. I discovered and took up with Silk Felt Soil after a Google Alert showed that several of my Bokusho paintings were being featured... I like her taste! Dear Ada picks up on art she likes from around the web, no preference to hierarchy, just a wide range of personal choices as accessories, often prefaced by "I love this!" There are bunches of other blogs focusing on the finer accessories of which art is just one, check out their sidebars.

Lest you think this is cheapening our artistic influences, hence our artistic creations... no less that Lari Pittman, that California mover and shaker of contemporary painting, admits to... well, here's the story:

In the LA Times, Dean Kuipers spends 60 seconds with Lari Pittman. "I always take the time to look at the women's clothes and shoes. It's not that I'm interested at all in wearing them, but I am interested to see how they're made and what ornamentation is taking place. It's not that it's a correct view of American culture, but it is a view."

So there ya go... I won't say I'm at all influenced by what they're showing about how we should be decorating, but like the man said... it is a view.

Daylilies...

Archives - 1980 - Daylily Series 2 - 30x40

Artists and gardens... a long standing tradition, it seems. I'm sure there are plenty of excellent painters who don't dig dirt and have little use for sculpting the land, but betcha they are a small minority. In another life I plan to be a landscape designer... or maybe I've already filled that square... several times over.

I come from a long line of dirt diggers... one grandmother provided local florists huge spider mums once popular for dates at football games, the other once tended strawberry fields, then moved on to ranching... growing most of what they ate all the while. I had little use for learning from them as a youth, but as soon as I married I felt the urge to grow flowers, learning on a need to know basis. Experienced neighbors were free with their advice as well as cuttings and rootings. I still have daylilies from those long ago gifts. In spite of our many moves, favorite plants were dug up and carried with us... the poor old ski boat serving as carrier, blowing tires in protest.

The last few days at the lake were partially dedicated to enjoying house guests visiting from Baton Rouge so we were able to kick back and not think about the big projects yet to be tackled. It was classic early fall weather, brilliant after a much needed cleansing rain, and begging to be dug in. The remnants of my early gardens at this property are most evident in the remaining daylilies scattered along paths and mingling with the ivy. Too much shade for them to bloom or multiply, they seem to be waiting in limbo for someone to rescue them. So I began that process, gathering and moving them to a sunny patch of good dirt in the front. I'm anxious to see "who" they are. All my daylilies had proper names if purchased from a grower, or I gave them a suitable name. I'm hoping they might be my long time favorite, "Cheddar Cheese," which was given to me in Maryland in the early '70's. I still have a pot of them... possibly the earliest daylily to bloom... and would rebloom in late summer when we were in NOLA.

That's 'Cheddar Cheese' up top... only the second in a very long series devoted to one of my favorites. Later I would begin leaving out the flowers as I began focusing on the interaction of old and new leaves... conveying a generational mingling... something that was happening in my own life as parents aged and kids and g-kids surged forth. Life became intense and my work reflected this with the tightness of detail and overlapping forms of elongated leaves and grasses. I think that was not an accident, it was a retreat much the way knitting is for some. Tiny little stitches that add up to something much larger. A few hours of digging in the dirt in hopes of a larger reward later. A place to go and quietly produce when the world is weighing way too much.

Jennifer Bartlett

Jennifer Bartlett Detail from Rhapsody 1975-76
enamel on steel, 987 plates, each plate 12 x 12 inches,
overall approximately 7' 6" x 153 feet
© 2006 Jennifer Bartlett

Cause to reflect on an early influence... just came across pics of the spectacular home artist Jennifer Bartlett recently bought . Of course the house pics are fun to browse but my wandering mind quickly moved back in time to when I discovered and fell for her work. It had to be the grids that she manipulated... I've certainly never felt particularly drawn to her painting style(s) or subjects (which have varied widely over the years.) Best quick view of her work is via Google Image Search. Interesting to note that she is just two years younger than I... always though of her as being perpetually young. Oh well, aren't we all? Judging from the recent house purchase, she's doing quite well.

It was 1989 and my New Orleans artist buddy and I were stalking our artistic futures. NOMA put on a magnificent show of outstanding women artists called "Making Their Mark" which introduced us to Bartlett as well as a number of other new favorite women artists (we soaked up that show... talked of nothing else for weeks!) My book/catalog became a file of sorts for tear sheets from art mags re any of the artists we felt attracted to and wanted to learn more about. I must dust off that book... take a walk back to a time when I was working hard to discover who I was and where I fit in, in regard to these women artists. Still wondering, but not working nearly so hard these days...

Seeds Sown...

Archives - 2004 - Contained - 36x36

I knew it was time to get back to the blog but after a long weekend at the lake there really wasn't much art to talk about and I didn't want to weigh heavy on the joys of manual labor again lest you begin to wonder about my mental relationship with senility, dementia or the like.

So while checking email this early morn, I was gifted with this jewel via Google Alert (where I have entered a number of names including my own.) Seems there's this blog called "What To Wear During An Orange Alert" which is obviously aimed at a much younger age group than the one I hang with... which makes this even more interesting. So they are interviewing a young (recent MFA) artist/cartoonist/illustrator about his new abstracts and this is the clip the email alert sent to me:

I found an artist named Karen Jacobs who does these large fantastic abstracts. I began working similarly in very small sizes, and eventually my works grew in scale. After a night of crappy critiques, I painted, was venting some ...

His name is Nick Volkert and I'm happy to say that his paintings don't look anything like mine. I like a lot of them and have trouble spotting much of a contribution I might have made to his evolution... and that's the part I like best. I recently sadly related the old saw that everything had been done, I could come up with no 'original' idea that someone else had't done better. Well, what I'm going to take from Nick is a point that I've let slide... you take that idea (yours or whoever's) and you run with it. You keep messing with it until it's your own and although you love it and know it's value, it now bears little relationship to the original thought. If I'd discovered Nick's paintings were crappy derivatives of my own (as I've found in a number of other instances) this post would carry a much different tone. But not. I'm pleased to be used as a point of departure. If you're reading... good luck Nick, nice to meet you, loved finding and reading the interview! (I enjoyed the cartoons, too!)

The Landscape Challenge...

2000 - North Forty - 60x36

Declaration - this is the year I will dedicate my efforts to the landscape. Seriously, that is. I've done lots of landscapes throughout my career but they were more happenstance than a determined series. (I'll be showing plenty of them as we move along.) Now the focus will be to create a body of work that relates but in such a way as to be uniquely mine. Okay, okay... nothing in art is unique and I fully realize that landscapes have been done to death in every possible interpretation. If we let that sort of detail stand in our way, we'd all toss in our brushes.

My main goal is to satisfy myself that I've taken the genre as far as *I* can, in the best way that *I* can. I want them to not be so different from my abstracts; they should be recognizable as my work. Therefore there will be plenty of texture, layers, ruled lines, earthy colors... red included (I'll try not to lean,) and they will be big.

I'm tossing in one more challenge, although I much prefer to paint verticals, I will focus on horizontals. Why? Why turn away from a preferred format? I don't really know except that I'm trying to move out of my comfort zone in order to force creative options... yeah, sometimes creativity has to be butt kicked into performing, sad to say.

The above painting is a past favorite... if I could do a year's worth of those I'd be grinnin'. A year or so later I tried to mimic the painting in a smaller, squarer format that didn't have the same punch. (Mimics never do.) Can't imagine it as a horizontal... would never be the same.

(There's an echo in my head... sounds like 'Shut up and paint!' .Nah... )

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...

Wish Lists...

2007 - The Heights 2 - 60x20

A comment from yesterday's post, Daphne asked: "Do you find it helpful to get a wish-list from the galleries? I would think that for me it would be helpful to have further direction as well as occasionally annoying to have to go in directions that I'm not interested in at the moment."

Good question! Guess a good answer is: It depends. No... a better answer is that any communication between gallery and artist is better than no communication. What does it matter that we've created the most unique and creative work of art since Warhol's Coke bottle if there is no market for it. Let's face it, few that follow this blog are on the fast track to that kind of fame and fortune, we're hoping to meet our financial goals, pay bills or just be able to buy more paint. One goal is to get in a gallery... then two or three (the more baskets for our eggs the better, right? Right!) So we're not going to welcome comments as to what the clients are looking for?

Well... that depends. You've heard me say I planned to work on more landscapes... I've been saying the same thing to my reps. They're just reminding me of that. If I get the urge to do more Bokusho's, I'm not going to be happy to hear 'landscapes'... but I understand. I understand the market and know that it's easier to sell a realistic work than an abstract work. My landscapes are sorta abstract... and they're big! And a lot of them are RED! Big, red, abstract landscapes... OO-RAH! (That's what the Marines yell for emphasis, donchaknow.)

Okay... not to get carried away... they aren't all red and some aren't all that abstract. Remember, I came from a high detailed, realistic background... sometimes it wants to resurface. Thereby hangs the challenge. Viva la bravade! What would we do without challenges?

The Muse Stirs...

2005 - Ridge 3 - 24x24

Figures... but why does it not surprise? A call from my NOLA rep sounds the alert for a particular style painting ("like this one but bigger!") which would be a cinch to do and in a series that I wouldn't mind extending (re: landscape talk.) Will need to order stretchers (should have done that a week ago!) But wait! On the pegboard, even as we speak, is a WIP that was going nowhere. Might be too big but what the hey! I'll paint two, the second being the size suggested.

Why am I more easily motivated when trying to please someone else than when trying to please myself? Art is a game of selfish rules. I'm supposed to be reaching deep within and pulling out Gutsy Creative Energy... instead I'm energized by clues like size and style and "that beautiful coppery red" the client likes. Umm... maybe the G.C.E. has been all used up and can only be resurrected by references to paintings past. Well, let's HOPE it can be resurrected. No promises here, just directional motivation.

Gotta hurry, although Daisy Dog will reunite with family on Sat, we'll also receive a 12 yr old g-girl from NOLA who will be attending a volleyball camp at the University. That means we'll be at the lake house most of next week so all studio painting must be done this week. In any case, I got work ta do!

The Linear Aspect

The lake house got a real workout with four pubescent soccer girls signed on for a four day camp at the University. We had them for the overnights... amazing that they had as much energy at night as they did in the mornings. Wish I could say the same for us.

We didn't want to deal with big messy projects while they were coming and going so I busied myself with some of the fun aspects of pulling together this second home... something we feel very privileged, and certainly never expected, to have. It continues to challenge us and, in many ways, keeps us alert and functioning with purpose at a much younger level than we might otherwise.

The clearing that we've done has included removal of a great deal of wisteria and wild grapevine that tends to cripple tree growth. A side benefit is finding beautifully twisted vines to incorporate into arrangements in the house. Sometimes just propping them around, over the cabinets or hanging in a corner. Adding a randomly curving line to a simple object can transform from ordinary to special, reminding of the many qualities that it can offer.

Line, in my work, has for many years been ruled... hard, straight and determined. I'm thinking that might change. I'm enamored of the serenity and natural flow that these lines inspire. Perhaps there's something taking root here... that might be a good thing...

Decade of Change... Or Not?

1995 - Square Parts - 36x36

A comment from an earlier post made me pause to ponder that show from 1997... you might have also wondered where my work was among all those realistic still lifes. Have I only been painting abstracts less than ten years? No, but thanks for noticing. I could say I was in a state of transition but more accurately, it would be a state of trying to please everyone including myself.

I've been painting abstracts from the get-go ('70's) but early work that could be genetically traced to current abstracts show up in my inventory folders from about '92... 15 years. Prior to that I played with a variety of abstract ideas presented as realistic studies. My archives are a work in progress that will require a lot of slide conversion to digital... (clues to the best source appreciated) but look around if you like.

1995 - Arrangement 1 - 40x30

But back to the still lifes of '97... why? Two reasons...
1) Because I was in transition and not really sure where I was destined... and
2) Realism requires a different set of polished skills. Without a formal degree, I've always felt a need to prove myself. Satisfaction comes when you meet an MFA who can't paint... and you know you can, on several levels ;-) Nothing like envy to motivate!

At the time I had two strong galleries that handled my wobbly, uncertain abstracts, and was invited to join two start up galleries (different states) that needed more in the way of realism. I really had nothing nailed as a branded style after leaving w/c for canvas work and was still under the influence of anything that flew by. I admit that sales were the prime motivator and I was trying to determine which way was up, realism or abstraction.

You know the end of the story... or is it the end? The stronger galleries could sell my abstracts better than the smaller galleries could sell my still lifes. That's just the way the cards fell for me... the slightest twist in marketing or style change could have resulted in a different outcome. So much for artistic idealism! I still have a determination to make my abstracts read more as landscapes in a style not yet struck... but I'm open to whatever the fates have in store. Maybe that's the real artistic idealism... just let it happen.

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.

Mississippi Art Colony

Not too long ago, for about a 15-20 year time period, I was a regular participant in one of the most important influences on my life and career as an artist. Mississippi Art Colony is a spring and fall artists retreat located south of Jackson in the rolling hills of rural Mississippi. Facilities at Camp Henry Jacobs are used for a week long painting frenzy by about 45 fully capable artists working independently in whatever mediums they choose.

In about 1987, shortly after moving to NOLA, I spotted a newspaper article about the art camp and was attracted by the chance to study with an artist I'd long admired. Hugh Williams was the invited instructor for the next session and I wanted desperately to go. I had a new artist friend and neighbor, Patti Pilie, and broached the possibility her... to which she replied: "Karen, I don't camp!" I mention that because I convinced her to go anyway and it's become a long standing joke after many years of our regular attendance at this well appointed "camp."

I'll detail more about my experiences at MAC as time goes by. Suffice to say, it came along when I could benefit most from the many outstanding "instructors" (visiting artists, actually, few really instructed) who were established artists and teachers from all over the country. I was in hog heaven! My work tumbled through enormous changes; peer support and competition was as much a motivator as travel show awards at week's end. It was fantastic... the kind of degree in fine arts that is often overlooked.

My attendance has been spotty in recent years. I find it difficult to find the time with family, career and a general need to slow down. Life continues to barrel on and it's hard to keep up. But I rationalize by saying that I had my turn, and since space is limited and in demand, best to leave room for others to benefit from this extraordinary experience as I once did.

My friend Cheryl McClure is on the road to Colony this morning and she will probably be updating her blog from MAC during the week if connections allow. Meanwhile... I'll be wiring and documenting for delivery to Memphis soon. I'd rather be heading to Colony!

Another View

Shadow Mountain, 48x36

Back from a quick trip to Dallas, a family gathering to remember a recently passed relative. Airplanes quickly deposited and retrieved us several states away and it hardly seems that we went... yet it's good to be home.

Wanted to post the promised landscapes completed last week... well, one is completed, the other, on re-examination, needs a rework and I'll wait until a better day to show it. Above is a reinterpretation of a similar work from around 2001, just wanted to replay the simplicity, which will be emphasized in future efforts.

As mentioned previously, landscapes (especially strongly abstracted versions) are more and more often in my thoughts. I love panoramic views in real life, couldn't get enough of them on my recent Santa Fe trip. I especially enjoy cresting one of our local foothill mountains with the views rippling over distant ridges. And I always claim a window seat on airplanes, and keep my nose pressed to the window as long as the landscape below stays focused.

Actually, I've never given up painting the genre... in all forms from detailed to abstract. Just not with an earnest effort to develop a serious interpretation. An interpretation that becomes a personal style. I hope that will happen this summer. Does that mean I'll quit abstracts, bokushos in particular? Hardly... there are several in progress as we speak. But this time next year, I'll have a better idea of the directional overview.

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.

What's Up?

Bokusho - Kokonotsu (nine) - 30x30

Good question... I'm comfortable with the grid style I've been focusing on for the past year and that's NOT a good sign. I can see it continuing to be a basis for something else happening... a breaking out of the grid but not ignoring it completely. I've said from the get-go that the grid and ink marks would continue to evolve and I have four canvases on the boards that are leading the way. Think back to the Structure monoprints (see label links for pic) I worked on recently. All are set aside for now, close to being finished but this early in composing a new show, I like to leave the finishing until later. Otherwise these works would have too much control over the next group, if that makes any sense.

I want the show in May to have little reference to Bokusho since I've moved beyond that element and I don't like crutches. Or at least I try to avoid them once recognized... I try, don't say I'm always successful. Am thinking 'Spring' and plan to allow a bit more color to creep into the works, but I've always been a color minimalist... except for red. I'll consider it a challenge and see where it takes me.

The painting above is an example of correcting a mistake by repeating it intentionally. In this case I meant to have a square line defining part of the interior, but it went off square (I'm so bad with measurements!) so I repeated several square lines at various angles and colors. Doesn't show up in the photo very well but I call it a fix.

Saw Hugh Williams' museum show yesterday and was flat blown away! If just a little bit of his authority and gusto leaks into my new works... well, I can only hope. I've mentioned before that I've known Hugh quite some time and consider his critique super valuable. He can be tough, but I usually get what he's trying to convey, sometimes rather heavy handedly but you don't forget it. If it doesn't get through to me, I think on it because I know there's something in there that I need to know. If we weren't two hours apart, I'd definitely be studying with him regularly. The man knows how to paint from the gut! Don't bother trying to google him, he cares not for pushing his work, especially via today's technology. So most will probably never know his genius. And that's unfortunate.

Art Friends

An admitted recluse, days and weeks can go by without any involvement with art or artists beyond my studio and computer... a dry and only minimally inspiring way to live, but that's the way life has evolved. My bad. Fortunately, I can't say no to friends passing through and urging me to get off my duff and mingle... and that's the way I spent the weekend. My visiting artist friend and I drove a couple of hours to visit a couple of long time good friends, one being about as much a mentor as I can claim... a professor emeritus of note in the area but I'm not even going to bother mentioning names because, believe it or not, there are an awful lot of really good artists out there that Google never heard of because they couldn't care less about the Internet, websites or whatever. They just make art... damn good art!

The other artist we stayed with has the most awe inspiring contemporary home... and I ran out of batteries for my camera! A community of similar homes was developed with economy in mind, but ultra design being a priority. It was spectacular! So I returned with all sorts of inspiration on two fronts... the studio and the lake house! Plus a couple of large but very minimal paper pieces which will continue to inspire.

Amazing how getting out the house can stir the juices! Really must do it more often!

Influences

Bukusho - Sokuro-Ru 60x42

Last week I had lunch with a long time (30 yrs) artist friend who is as different from me as night and day, yet we are totally in sync when it comes to art. We both started as realist watercolorists and moved on to big canvas abstraction. For twenty years we were separated by several states but loosely kept in touch. We now live in the same city and make a point to meet for lunch or run a few galleries monthly. We share a fondness for all things Asian and our work shows it. In fact, we try not to step on each other's toes in this regard... sometimes hard to do.

This time we went to a new Korean grill and were bowled over by the decor... every detail was a work of art and our heads swiveled. First to catch my eye was a very long horizontal painting that stretched the length of the sushi bar... simply a cluster of bokusho at one end followed by a long, wide brush stroke of ink. As it happens, I have just stretched four long skinny canvases. I won't copy, but I can't imagine not being influenced by that painting.

Our work would never be confused, our styles and techniques are totally different and the paintings show it. There's a healthy competition going on, probably can't be avoided between artists at any level. As we parted, after a good conversation about our respective paths, almost simultaneously we asked if we were borrowing from each other, and instantly agreed that we were not. But the fact that the question came up signifies a degree of discomfort.

We all strive so hard to create original thoughts on paper or canvas, and indeed our efforts are uniquely our own... yet they can often fall into common categories and merge with thousands of other paintings remarkably similar. Landscapes, still lifes, abstracts, you name it... a minute difference in brush technique or color mixing might be all that separates yours from a thousand other paintings of similar subjects. How original is that? Style and decor demand a certain look and artists abandon one palette for a newer, fresher combo as needed. Yes, I want to please... but more than that, I want to explore the limits of my own creative thoughts. And sometimes, those thoughts have to be jumpstarted by something I see, allowed to mingle with older ideas and merge into that which I can't even imagine at this point.