All the Things I Own Except a Home

This a new graphite sketch for a painting I am planning- something I have been working on for a while to get the right look. Originally it was set in a desert, then a marsh, and then I put it in a forest, and then it took many bike trips around state parks and other wooded areas to find the right forest setting for reference. I also had significantly more stuff including pots hanging on the trees, bookshelves, more boxes, etc. I didn't know what pose I wanted the figure in until a few weeks ago- but when I did it all finally started falling into place. I want the figure to be nude-- but not explicit. I want it to be ordinary with a person going about normal business- but she is not indoors in a safe and private space. She is outdoors where she is exposed and vulnerable. The pose was inspired by photograph I saw-- and I still need to find a model to recreate it and adjust it for the painting. I did this sketch to force myself to think things out more specifically. There is something about drawing out an idea that calls attention to even the most minute details in a way that photography and Photoshop never do. It is a way of becoming intimately familiar with every line and shadow. It keeps me from looking and thinking too quickly and ensures I know all of the potential pitfalls and attend to any issues. This painting will be called "All the Things I Own Except a Home" and will be 3x4 ft when complete. It is about not having a place to live or a place where one can relax, be themselves, and have time alone doing ordinary things. Or it is about trying to make a home in a place that is exposed and uncomfortable and not meant for a permanent sort of lifestyle. I need to do some color studies next to pin down the color- I am not sure if I'll make it very lush green or something more desaturated and toned down. Recently I took a look back at an older painting I did ages ago called "The Jungle" and might use that as a jumping off point for color, but with the figure less orange. Here is a an image of that painting:



"The Jungle" was one of the first paintings I did after I decided to leave the film industry. But while I was still in film school and starting to have doubts about being there, I took a photography class where I did a series of self-portraits. These eventually became the starting point for most of my paintings and most of what I still do is still rooted in them. The are called "Imposed Geometry" and mostly have to do with putting manmade elements and structures in a natural environment. But they also have to do with vulnerability and domesticity. Here are two that are particularly relevant:





The first one is in a destroyed adobe house in Malibu Creek State park. I had to wait for a quiet moment with no one passing by in order to strip down to a slip for the pose. The second one was taken in a park in Culver City. My favorite part is that you can see an oil derrick in the distance on the hill in the upper right corner. The oil derricks in that park inspired my Edge of the World series. But they were hard to use in photographs because they all had chain link fences around them.

Experiments in Graphite

I've been mostly drawing lately, partly because I have more ideas than I can keep up with and want to attend to as many as possible. Drawing is much faster and I can turn things around in a week rather than a few months. I was working mostly in charcoal which is very painterly and fluid. But I saw another artist working in graphite and liked his work so I thought I would give it a shot. Graphite is not very fluid and lends itself much more to messy cross-hatching and detail linework. It also does not produce a rich black and heavy layers of it turn more silver gray and catch the light (for better or for worse.) There is something magical about the silvery quality of graphite that I think can work in my drawings, but sometimes the gray quality seems to lack boldness.

I did this drawing above sometime last week, it is called "Roses" for now. It was my first experiment and so I did not really fuss over the subject matter. The figure is someone I met at an art show a few months back and asked to pose for me. Generally I am too shy to approach strangers and ask favors but I've made a resolution to overcome my shyness. My old mainstay of getting models from Craigslist is great when it works. But I never know who will respond and sometimes there are painting/drawing ideas I put off because of it.

The Bedroom Trees

I completed this drawing "The Bedroom Trees" recently after fussing over it on and off for a month. Most of my problems were technical and conceptual. I wasn't sure if it really made any sense, and then I also learned I am crap at perspective. The original idea was a bedroom with trees growing in it. I haven't drawn much with perspective or anything architectural in a long time-- probably not since college. But also figuring out how to draw large trees growing inside is hard to do because there isn't anything to reference. I realized quickly how hard it was to turn my idea into reality and had problems figuring out the logistics of how it would work in an image. You can see that where the tops of trees meet the ceiling is a bit non-specific-- that was me deciding to leave it ambiguous after several attempts to be more precise and have the space make sense. I think if I turned this into a painting, it would need many more studies-- but I'll probably leave it as a drawing for now.

The idea of it came from wanting to capture an uncomfortable living space-- a place that should be restful but things are coming in and overtaking it. It is also meant to be dreamlike and lonely, and the figure is everywhere but in actually in bed resting. I like to repeat figures to show different states of mind and sort of imply a progression of thoughts or mood.

The New Studio

I have been missing in action on the blog lately- partly due to procrastination, lack of reliable internet & free time, and general busy-ness. I was wrapped up in preparing for the Somerville Open Studios which meant I took a detour from my usual grand scale paintings to do more small scale landscapes. I planned to return to painting and start a new large series of pieces but instead I ended up having to move studios and contribute to another small show. So instead of new paintings to share, I have some images of my bigger and better studio space. The photo above is the entry space-- I liked how the light came in through the windows and hit the floor. Below is my studio space. I have not settled in yet. I am still figuring out storage and where to put things and eventually I will build walls to separate it from the larger space it is in so it will be more private.



The best part of the space is that it is over 3 times as large as my last space, better maintained, and with much higher ceilings. There are no trees growing out the roof... or faint odor of plumbing issues. I have about 250 square feet now. I had 80 before as illustrated below:



There was barely enough space to turn around or stand up and was probably better suited to a painter of miniatures. The new space costs more but it comes with better facilities, common areas, a rooftop deck, parking, community. I'm eager to get started on a new bunch of paintings & drawings. I'm in the process of planning them out now.

Also since I have been a bit behind on things I have not posted my latest big drawing (about 3x4 feet). Right now I call it "Nearby Distance" which still could change. It is another work where I try to play with mental and physical geography. The left half of the drawing is Los Angeles, the right have is the woods of New England. It is about how people can be connected even when physically apart. Even though the drawing rearranges geography and shows figures near each other- it implies an emotional distance between them that may be even more difficult to cross than the physical distance between the east & west coasts.



I'm also making more of an effort to include men in my paintings. I haven't included them very often for several reasons. Most of my paintings are a form self portraits that come from my own experiences. When I visualize things, I don't see men. It doesn't make sense in context with the ideas in my head. Substituting a man for a woman would change the meaning drastically and would raise a completely different set of issues than what I intend. When I really started painting heavily (beyond just college) I started with a series that explored vulnerability. It was ultimately about being alone in a big city... as a woman. For me the "woman" part went without saying, it was just a given since I am a woman.* Those paintings worked better with women since society sees them as "vulnerable." A man walks alone in the woods- so what. A woman does the same and she is told that is too dangerous. So swapping the figure with a man would change the meaning.

Even now that my paintings are not as much about vulnerability and have more mysterious narratives- it would still change the meaning to have a man. These days when I paint figures, the women often exist in their own internal worlds. With multiple women in one painting, I often see them as different aspects of the same person, even if their physical appearances are not the same. So including a man would feel like an intrusion of sorts. Or the painting would become more about a relationship between a man and a woman instead of a portrait of single person's internal world. Once it becomes about two characters I worry that a painting/drawing becomes even more narrative perhaps inches closer to illustration. However, I have decided to question my instinct to only use women and try to change things up without getting too far from my artistic voice. I This drawing is my first attempt, and I am working on some other ideas as well. I will probably also turn this drawing into a painting as well because I think it would be more successful in color.


*But I feel I don't need to explain that when I talk about my paintings I am now because people always ask why I paint women and I admit it is frustrating since I don't think it needs explaining.

Silver Lake

Silver Lake
Originally uploaded by Bekka Teerlink

However I feel like I'm out on a limb by not drawing something observational-- like drawing things like this are somewhat silly. Though that feeling sometimes means I am doing something right. I'm thinking of doing some in oil just to see what happens. (This one is colored pencil and acrylic paint out of my sketchbook.) But I don't know if I could do abstract paintingse exclusively because it only satisfies part of what drives me to create art. Sometimes I feel like I'm two different artist in one body-- an old fashioned observational artist and a (budding) abstract artist. I wish I could combine them somehow but I can't seem reconcile the extremes.

View past map drawings:

the streets run like the lines on my palm
Eight Years in LA, A Portrait

the most beautiful picture in the world (to me)

the most beautiful picture in the world (to me)
Originally uploaded by Bekka Teerlink

This is my new studio space! As of today! It isn't much to look at but out of this gray shack will come many new paintings.

It's probably irresponsible to rent studio space with my unemployment check. But it absolutely had to be done.

(My sister says Van Gogh would've done the same. She would know, I gave her Van Gogh's letters for Christmas and she's read it and, because she has the amazing ability to remember every word she reads, quotes it back to me regularly. But I told her to be careful about encouraging me to follow Van Gogh's particular career path because then I would expect her to support me financially while I paint. Luckily I'm more self-sufficient than Van Gogh, and my lack of steady employment will work itself out eventually.)

But I'm very excited about having some small bit of studio space since I've been trapped in my family's house for 5 months far away from everything and everybody. The studio is in Somerville in a perfect location. I'll be able to meet people, get of the house, look for a day job, and paint all at the same time. It put me in such a good mood I was able to land some freelance work for the week.

This is very old, from High School actually

This is very old, from High School actually
Originally uploaded by Bekka Teerlink

Being back in MA means I get to see artwork I did ages ago. Back when my parents were still trying to frame everything I made (they gave up by college.) I did this piece when I was 17ish when I was a senior in high school. I never really painted before this so this really where I began. It's still one of my favorite paintings. Old pieces like this remind me why I wanted to paint in the first place. Lately I've been questioning the direction my painting has been going-- and looking at this piece makes me want to go back to the beginning and start over. Early on I just wanted to paint people-- interesting people in unique moments. I was always drawn to different non-traditional poses, angles, faces. I want to go back to painting people, just people. I just need some people to paint. Anybody game?

the streets run like the lines on my palm

the streets run like the lines on my palm
Originally uploaded by Bekka Teerlink

another map, maybe a better one. but it looks more like a map than I wanted. I wanted it to be more abstract. though the streets aren't right-- because memories of where things are always shift and when you try to draw them you see it put down muddled and out of order. but I kind of like the lack of precision that memory has.

Eight Years in LA, a portrait.

Eight Years in LA, a portrait.
Originally uploaded by Bekka Teerlink

This is a departure. I was going to post another entery in my steady flow of people sketches of late. But my mood has skewed to the other end of the spectrum this week. Instead of looking outward I am looking inward I guess. It is a rather large jolt to suddenly be 3000 miles away from my home for the last eight years. I forgot how to live anywhere else. I'm still comparing everything to LA as I find stores, things to do, concerts, art galleries, museums, the cafe that will have my new favorite tea.

Tonight I'm in a particularly reflective mood. I go to many concerts. Many. 1-3 a week, depending on my usualy flux of commitments and projects. And always local musicians because I enjoy small venues and lending support to musicians I like. Since I've been in the Boston area (4 months now?) I've gone to just two concerts. It's sad. Because I only know Los Angeles music I found myself at a concert tonight of an old favorite from LA, Ferraby Lionheart.

But what I thought would be a night of getting inspired or getting lost in music became a night of being homesick for Los Angeles. It was also sad because I know that many of the most important things I loved in LA have since left or ceased to exist. Jobs. Friends. Music venues. Radio stations. Art galleries. It was time for me to leave as well.

However I miss having eight years of memories around me-- of places I went, things I did, people I met. When you stay in one place for so long the city becomes layered with personal experiences.

So this week I wanted to find a way to draw those experiences-- like a web of places and paths and emotions all over the city. I decided to draw a map of Los Angeles, but not a street map-- a map of everything I did in eight years there.

This is not meant to look like Los Angeles really, or be accurate with streets. This is out of my head and it may not make sense to anyone else. But here you go....

I'm back being artsy already.

Even though I'm "in transition" now and without a studio, I just can't stop making art. Making ambitious oil paintings is not convenient, but after a quick trip to the Met (just 5 hours away, yeah!) I was inspired by Degas to do pastels. I think I will eventually try some giant ambitious pastels, but for starters I am doing portraits to figure out how the hell to work with "chalk." I've been wanting to do portraits since I watched a documentary made by my neighbor about Alice Neel. (That was just before moving-- because one always gets brand new interesting neighbors just before moving out of a building.) I'm starting with self portraits, because I'm always available. And eventually I'll draw my family. After which I will draw friends... and new friends. Anyway, after a couple ass-scrambled drawings, I was able to make this:



Which isn't a bad start, but I still have a lot of work to do. I just wish I was a more interesting subject. I need to change outfits like Susanna Coffey does in her portraits. So right after this sketch, I tried to change myself up a bit:



But I struggled on this one. Mainly because it was 2am but I didn't know having not paid attention to clocks. All I know was that I was watching Notting Hill and it had finished and started over... and finished again. That's when I realized I had been drawing too late and too long. It shows in this portrait. And the pastel is still not natural. It's a bit muddled because I haven't quite figured out how it works and how to plan out my layering in my head as a draw. I always have to know what colors to lay out first and what to hold of on until the end-- but it takes time to know how different colors of the pastel interact with each other. I know oil, and I have an intuitive sense of each paint and it's qualities and when and where to use it. But pastel is unfamiliar territory. My main frustration is how Degas gets such small and fine detail. These sketches are 11x14 and very loose. His pastels are smaller, and I know he is probably using a much different (and better) pastel. I did a quick google about Degas' pastel drawings and found out enough to know that he got very meticulous about his pastel process and materials. But I must learn about his process if I can! More research is in store.

Where the Inspiration Is

I'm in the midst of starting some new pieces, but have been in a bit of a creative funk lately. I've been having a show pretty much ever other month this year, which is great, but has caused alot of disruption in my creative process. I've been using the shows as motivation & deadlines to create new pieces. So I paint madly for a month or so, drop everything off, hang it, go to the opening on next to no sleep... and then promptly pass out for 2 weeks. Then I repeat. So it has been this constant stop and start all year instead of a fluid and steady work flow.

So when it comes to ramping up for another show after a period of sitting in pajamas watching Project Runway reruns while painting my toenails, I have a hard time diving back in and picking up where I left off. I'm working on a piece (or pieces...?) for a small September show and I'm stuck. I rarely get stuck. But it's not that I don't have ideas. It's that I am not fired up, and that is causing some doubt about my direction. I need to feel inspired.

When I need inspiration, I don't go to galleries or art museums.

I try something new or go somewhere I've never gone before. Like the Natural History Museum.



So there are dinosaur bones that are millions of years old, and I decide take a photo of their shadow. But with the big dinosaur exhibits closed, most of what I saw were displays with contemporary animals, some which were endangered but none were extinct.



I liked the polar bears, but I don't know if they were really inspiring for paintings. Okay, so what I really wanted to see were woolly mammoths and saber tooth tigers and dinosaurs. Where can I see the really really cool old dead things?

I guess they're not at the Natural History Museum. But this was:



Does this really fit in this museum? I'm not sure. But of all the things I saw, this is the sort of thing that should be extinct.

All in all, it was great to finally see this museum. But it wasn't what I expected, and it didn't get me fired up like I hoped. What I really wanted to see was something that made me contemplate how infinite and old the universe is. Because even though I hate feeling small and insignificant, I feel like much of my inspiration lately comes out of being uneasy or scared of things bigger than me.

Blessed

I feel like some paintings that I make are blessed. As if the planets aligned and allowed a bit of magic in while I paint. Sometimes I don't know it at the time, some times I do. But when the painting is done, everybody can see the magic on the canvas.

I love paintings like this, and I hate them. I love it when a painting comes out awesome. But I hate it when I try to harness that magic for the next painting. It's not that can always be controlled.

So there's a tendency for some paintings to be more precious than others. And I feel like a precious painting is the enemy of a good artist. It traps them into trying to always recreate or one-up that painting, instead of thinking truly creatively or independently.

Not only do paintings like this trap me creatively, I get emotionally attached to them so I don't want to ever part with them. They are one of a kind and never again to be created. The longer I have them in my space, the higher the attachment and the price tag I would put on them to give them up.

So how do I proceed when I've created such a beautiful monster of a painting? Do I get sell it low & move away from it as quickly as possible for the sake of creativity? Or do I keep it for the sake of emotional attachment?

It's hard not ever being sure what a painting is really worth, and if it even matters at all. If I'm just painting for the love of it, maybe I should just let people name their price. But on the other hand, I've always been the type of painter who would prefer to never let anything go at all. I love covering all my walls with my work and let it stare back at me. If I had the money, I'd probably buy more walls instead of selling pieces.

Gesso vs. Oil Ground

Oil priming is the way to go. It is more messy & smelly, but the surface is a million times better. It has a smoothness and shine that just takes paint beautifully. While acrylic gesso has a rubbery plastic feel, and absorbs oil paint in a way that is not as graceful. However it is cheaper and faster and much less smelly.

I'm painting on gesso this week, mainly because I realized it is more cost efficient for the price I'm selling my paintings at right now. It doesn't make sense to put $$$$ into my paintings (plus much more labor), when I only get $ in return. I am only doing this on tiny paintings, and I feel guilty for it because I want to use the best materials possible. But I only have so much money to pour into my art right now, and until I start more money flowing in I think I have to cut some corners and compromise a little so I can pay my rent.

But I'm realizing I really really don't like gesso surfaces for oil. (For Acrylic it's fine, but I only used acrylic with mixed media because it doesn't eat away at cloth/paper the way oil does.) To me, using acrylic is like shooting video instead of film. It just doesn't have the softness that oil does.

I was reading this book the other day called Chemistry & Artist colors. Most of it is way over my head, but I did start to get a hint of understanding of the molecular constitution of oil paint and how it changes as it dries. It was very interesting. I'm curious to know about the make-up of acrylics. I'll have to keep reading that book. But it's slow going with all the symbols of molecules and how they interact with other molecules. I have to reread sections quite a bit.

Paper Craving

ulcer04
Originally uploaded by Bekka Teerlink

I suddenly am craving working on paper. Not in the doodling in a sketchbook kind of way. Something more ambitious. I'm always more experimental with paper and mixed media as this image shows. Though part of it might be that I'm not trying to be ambitious when I do stuff like this. Though generally stuff like this comes out when I'm working through some sort of stress. I tend to not produce it except under the right circumstances since it is more art therapy than anything else. It's more personal and expressive, and feels much more primitive I guess. Maybe I mean instinctual. Like the art equivalent of sucking my thumb. When I'm in a good mood and I try to reproduce this sort of thing I usually come up with nothing. This piece was done at a time when I was particularly stressed about a money situation, so stressed that I had a bad stomach ache for a month. Eventually I dealt with the situation and the stomachache and these pieces about ulcers went way.

But there is something freeing about making stuff like this. Generally I am no good at expressionist or abstract or non-observational art. I am mostly inspired by things I see. If that's taken away, then I'm just swirling colors around like a kid and I have a hard time figuring out where to put the blue and the green and the red and what it will all add up to in the end. I need to have a concept or idea, which I generally always get from things I see around me. Drawings like the one above come from out of my head which I am more suspicious of. I don't know if they hold up well and they usually seem kind of trivial. And then there's the fact that I don't produce them consistently. Maybe if I did more stuff like this they would develop and grow. In school I would do things like this and art professors would always push me away from it, as if it wasn't worth my time. I suppose it is insecure territory. But still there are moments where it is incredibly satisfying to do stuff like this.

Perhaps it is because of the rigid painting schedule I have been in the last couple of months. But I want to make messy pictures of nothing on paper.

So tired. So happy.

I can't be someone who's always on, always going going going... which has been proven by the last 2 months of mad furious productivity... and then the inevitable energy crash that came yesterday. I was so tired I was physically shaking for a good part of the day. Some good tea helped to steady me.

I told myself I would keep going strong, I've been painting so much and I have soooo many new ideas but I need a break to sleep and eat better for a while. And maybe exercise. (I'm buying a bike and going to bike to work!)

I think I'm going to read a book for a change of pace. Another thing that went by the wayside. "The Night Watch." And I joined a book group. Another change of pace, and one of my new years resolutions. And I'll go see some live music again (Hello Avett Brothers!) And I'm going camping too, and it will be the first time since I was 12 surprisingly (well not counting setting up the time I slept in a tent in my backyard in high school.) OH AND THEN THERE'S THE MOST IMPORTANT THING-- I'M GOING TO PARIS IN APRIL, A MONTH FROM NOW! I'll be eating tons of pastry and looking at my most favorite paintings in the world and doing a series of artsy photos hopefully for a future show.

I'm really looking forward to all of this. I love my life, even when I'm grumpy and hungry and tired like right now.

Lastly, if you live in LA (or surrounding areas) come to my show this Saturday!

High on fumes.

I just painted straight through the weekend only stopping long enough to go to an art opening for few hours Saturday night. I didn't even watch the Academy Awards which is a first for me, well a first in a long long time (since 1991 at least... when I didn't have TV.) I made immense progress though not everything is quite finished, probably 80% finished. But it's good since Friday I was at 20% or less and very much freaking out. I tend to bite off more than I can chew. If I'm required to paint 1 new painting for a show, I paint 8. I already have more work than I could ever put in one show, but I like to always have new cool things to show. And I like to look like I work hard and make consistent work, not that anybody really keeps track besides me.

What I like about painting at such a maddening pace is that I tend to learn massive amounts overnight, and that ideas flow more easily. What I hate about it is that there's that inevitable crash that comes after the show or after 7 too many late nights. Then I go into lazy mode (TV, eating tons of dessert, reading crap on the internet) which is hard to get out of once I fall into a routine. I'm going to try not to let that happen after the show, because I have way too much taking off creatively. But sometimes it's unavoidable, just because there's no more deadline and the motivation fades away.

So I'm working on 8 (holy shit!) new paintings for this show. I just counted them in my head now. And I got more ideas too, that I probably won't get to unless I start taking drugs to keep me working all night too. I'm really I hope I sell a bit, just because I think I officially killed all my brushes this weekend. And I'll be out of pretty much every earth tone as well as cadmium orange and Williamsburg's Sevres blue (BEST COLOR EVER!) And I'm getting short on storage for paintings real fast.

I've been listening to a bunch of Bob Dylan while painting, it's the mood I'm in, and I think it's getting into the paintings. I wanted to call one of my pieces "Bob Dylan's Dream" but then I decided it was lame. Especially because I'm only now discovering Dylan and everybody else on the planet knows his music so much better than I, and he's been referenced so many times already. But yeah, I've somehow gone nearly 3 decades never having really listened to any of his music except what I've heard on the radio in passing. But I get it now.

Tiny paintings soooo far...

Here's my painting results from a crazy couple of days of tough going. This is 8x10, and I like the execution of it, but I don't like the content. This was something I just started and finished kind of spur of the moment and very quickly. Somehow I fell into a groove and got comfortable with the paint after several days of being at odds with everything. But this is probably still more of a learning experience than a complete success. The painting below is the one that was giving me headaches galore:

I'm not sure if it's done or if it's any good. It feels overworked right now, and I think if I kept poking at it I would just scrub it out and start over. The face is bothering me... so maybe I'll play with it or change it. I think I'll put it away for a while and turn to something else. Either way, for the next few days I think I need to take a break (and watch a little Project Runway, do laundry, make curry) because between stressful paintings and a stressful day job and photo shoot coming up Sunday I'm a little worried about-- I'm already worn out. It's Wednesday and I've probably already put in over 40 hours labor counting everything.

Painting tiny paintings.

I'm painting a couple 8x10's right now because some of the shows I've been doing sell smaller pieces pretty quickly. So I thought it would be smart thing to do, have a few small things on hand. But I've realized I hate it, it's so restricting. I feel like I'm trying to climb into a cupboard. My brush strokes get stale and overworked, and the painting dies a long laborious death. Sometimes I have better days, but not very often. I also thought the small paintings would go quickly, but it seems they take just as much time as the giant ones. It feels like progress is taking ages and I am just aching to work canvases that I can throw my whole self into, with big strokes and gestures. And less a feeling of preciousness of detail. We'll see, I'm working on them a few more days until I finish up prepping some large canvases for a series of paintings I have in mind. Though even the canvas prepping is feeling like forever. I just want to spend 80 hours a week painting, I never have enough time. Though even at 80 hours I would probably want twice that. The more time I paint, the more time I need to spend painting.

Making a Painting

I'm busy doing some businessy stuff to finish off the year. I don't have much time to get much done before the holidays, but I'm working on developing some new pieces and getting some projects lined up for the new year. I'm getting ready to dive into starting a new series of paintings in January. I spend more time preparing paintings than painting them sometime. Here's a bit of what I'm working on. The following painting I'm preparing is tentatively being called "Free Will." It was inspired by the painting above ("Original Sin" by Hugo van der Goes, Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna.) I seem to be fascinated by the Eden story right now, and love how it is portrayed in painting. I especially love the lizard-serpent creature with the head of a woman. When I first saw this I didn't realize it was the serpent, only with legs and a human head. Then I started looking at other paintings of the same thing and realized how many ways it has been painted. I was originally going to work this into my painting, "The Bible Tree" but it has developed into having its own canvas. Below is a color sketch:


I somehow had the idea of placing it into a flooded world that's more like the flood story than Eden. (The theme of floods, water, and tidal pools also keep recurring in my stuff lately.) I put some dead trees sticking out of the water, having seen trees like that in flooded areas on the east coast. I eventually removed all trees but one-- thinking of making it more of a dead and drowned Tree of Knowledge. However I was unhappy with the composition and color somewhat, so I tried another color sketch:


I felt a little better about this one, I liked the lone tree but didn't quite like the foreground or some of the fine detail. It still seemed off balance, but the concept was much closer. I'm still not happy with the color, it feels chalky. But I will be able to refine it in the final, and get much more depth (which comes from spending weeks on the painting instead of the 3 hrs this one took.) I did a detailed pencil sketch to refine the detail and composition, I'm not sure if it's perfect, but I like it much better. It needs some more space on the right side I think. But I nailed the lizard-serpent creature.

I think I might put a rotting apple in the final painting (and straighten out the horizon line....) In this I also changed the eyes so they are looking at the viewer, and I'm still thinking about the face. I start out my paintings lately by photo-collaging them to work out composition and ideas. I thought I would include the photo-sketch as well-- even though I work from photos I change a good deal once I translate it into a painting:

For this painting, I will most likely paint more from the pencil and color sketches than the photos. While photos can be helpful-- I find they lock me into things (like where the rocks are, lighting, color, specific positioning) so I make an effort to question and rethink what's in them. You can see that in the tail and hands of lizard, the placement of the rocks, the woman's head and eyes.

I haven't started the final painting yet. I may start a small 8x10 of it this week, and may do a larger one later. I want to finish one more painting before Christmas, this may be the one but we'll see. I haven't done any Christmas shopping yet and am buried in parties and concerts and art shows for the next week. Hopefully I'll get some time this week to at least start.

"The Jungle" 2006. Oil on canvas, 48x72 inches

This is the first *big* painting I did in Los Angeles. Both in size, and in seriousness. I was in film school when I started it, and was pretty unhappy with where I was geographically and mentally. I'm not a big fan of film school or the film world in general these days... but this painting was begun when I was coming to terms with that fact. I consider this painting sort of the starting point to everything I am doing now. Though it was actually "finished" (more accurately abandoned) quite a bit later. I probably spent 3 years off and on working on this painting. The concept emerged out of a series of photographs I did called the "Imposed Geometry Series" which loosely about humankind vs. nature, chaos vs. order. It explores how people impose order and shapes on nature, and try to contain it. Another theme that runs through the photos is femininity and vulnerability. This was inspired my Francesca Woodman photography who is probably one of my biggest visual artist influences, and my biggest photography influence. I liked the idea of woman in traditional dressy feminine outfits out in nature where they are seemingly out of place and out of their element. Below are some of the photos I took that inspired The Jungle....

In the photo above I was aiming to get a feel of a jungle, and I wrapped myself in plastic I took off a dress hanger. Somehow it reminded me of how dolls are packaged in plastic. I play with various materials in my photographs, plastic is one of my favorites. I like the connotations has, and how unnatural it is. And it doesn't hurt that light really interacts in interesting ways with it. Also note the oil derrick on the hill in the upper right corner, this park in Culver City where I took many of these pictures in was full of them. I tried to avoid them in most of my photographs back then, but they are now featured prominently in recent paintings.... Just to show how the seeds of ideas are planted.

In this one I wanted to have that fairy tale feel of a woman stumbling through a forest wearing heels. I liked that the pattern of the leaves is almost echoed in the design of the shoes.

I started the painting of "The Jungle" soon after these photos, and the concept was pretty much the same thing. I know at the time I was questioning why I was painting something that I already did pretty decently in photography. But it was what I was thinking about at the time, so I went with it. It was later I realized that in painting I had much more control of the content much like visual effects artists can escape the physical limitations of locations, actors, reality. All the reference of plants and the background was taken from photos of plants around LA and a bunch from the jungle garden at the Huntington in Pasadena. The model was my friend Julie who is a phenomenal actress. I met her when I cast her in a short film I did that was inspired by a scene from Franny and Zooey. At the time she had this long wild mane of red hair which I decided I had to paint. I really got into the jungle scene of this painting, and the idea of a woman lost in it. I had the impulse to put a tiger and some other creatures in it, but in the end I decided to leave it more simple than over the top. I don't know if I feel like this painting is finished, but I worry that if I worked on it longer I would kill it. I sometimes feel like I quickly kill my paintings if I work on them too long and get too precise. I also stop working on paintings more because I get distracted by new ideas and concepts that often make my older ones seem sort of obsolete.