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.

I'm no longer a Los Angeles artist

I have relocated to the Boston area (more specifically to my parents house) due to lack of job & money and the promise of getting a job or money for the foreseeable future. I've been supporting my painting habit with a day job in advertising. Apparently that wasn't as stable as I thought. Oops. So I'm regrouping. I won't be painting for a while since there is a complete and utter lack of space where I am. Once I am back in the artistic mindset I will be back to blogging here.

Humble announcement

On Griffith Park Blvd there was a white banged up old car with "Everything is Horrible" painted on the side of it.

That pretty much sums things up.

I wish I got a picture of the car to illustrate, but it was gone in a flash. But I did get a picture of this street art outside Palazzo Gelato on Sunset:



(I'm sure it will be gone or defaced by the time you seek it out. That's why I always carry a camera and take a moment to capture it when I see it.)

But back to the car and how horrible everything is.

Yesterday I got laid off from my job. I was surprised, yet not surprised. My company has been on the rocks lately but I thought financial disaster had been averted. Not so.

Now I am unemployed in Los Angeles once again for the first time in 2.5 years and I've forgotten how to do it. I used to scrape by on pennies from here and there but the days of being able to pay all my monthly bills with $1200 are long gone.

This whole year has been a bit of a question mark. I didn't know what it was all adding up to until this week.

It all started with Paris. Yes, I love Paris. It was like going home, with the crepes, croissants, art, and walking in the footsteps of Degas, Manet, Van Gogh and more. When I returned LA just seemed blah. I hated the giant SUV's, the unromantic clothing, the lack of history. So I set out to act like I was in Paris. I changed my clothes, got a European bicycle, took the subway every day, spent hours in cafes eating croissants. But it's not the same. Los Angeles is ugly and way too full of actors. I dont' have family, and friends seem to always be over-scheduled. I've realized I've fallen out of love with LA and I can't picture myself pursuing art and life here anymore. But I haven't said it out loud until now. Now that I am unemployed, again.

While my former company is making overtures to me about bringing me back when they have the money, the truth is I don't think I should fight to stay here anymore. It's not like after 8 years in this city it will suddenly get better.

So I've made a tentative decision: Get out. Get out while I'm still young and unattached. I'm moving to Boston. To be with family. To finally have seasons. To meet people who are not actors, directors, or screenwriters. To move forward with my life and actually put down roots somewhere and finally grow up.

I have to move fast since I have no way to pay my November rent or bills, and I am doubtful about October's. So there is a very good chance I will be gone from Los Angeles by the end of October. It's very sudden, and I have had only 1 day to seriously think about the weight of this. I'm scared, but the only thing that scares me more is committing to another permanent job in this city and not having the guts leave Los Angeles again. Because I am certain I will not grow old in this city, or even grow middle aged.

The way I see it is this, to make a very silly comparison:

Staying in LA will be like voting for McCain-- following the same stale policies from 8 yrs of Bush. In my case, 8 yrs of Los Angeles. Leaving Los Angeles will be like voting for Obama. it's unknown and unproven, smelling of east coast elitism, but full of hope.

So this is my little announcement of things to come. Maybe I will have one last giant get-together before I go, if I am not too stressed with figuring out how to get all my paintings safely moved cross country.

Rest

It's been a busy year of shows and I think I'm done for now. I have no more deadlines planned and unless something unexpected pops up, I'm going to take a break to focus on painting for a few months.

Deadlines are good for initial motivation-- but I'm finding right now that they are getting in the way of me taking the time I need to really explore and take risks with my paintings. In a crunch I will always fall back into my comfort zone or take shortcuts, and I have to start being harder on myself.

And I think having 6-8 shows in a year with new pieces is a bit much. I want to focus on fewer and better quality shows. For now I want to develop some new work and play with new ideas.

I'm thinking of trying a completely different direction and doing some portraits. Portraiture was may first love, and there's a part of me that just wants to capture people. But I may also try some new things in my current direction: new style, color, series. Who knows where I will take it-- but I'm just excited that I don't have any schedule.

In the meantime, I got tons of finished paintings here that need to find walls. Though I assume this is not the best economic environment to sell paintings, but it would be nice to clean house right now and make a truly clean start.

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.

Changing Gears

Photo: A golden sneaker. Found hanging around at Sunset & Hyperion.

I've been a relaxing a little lately, with one ongoing show and the next show not until September (more on that later....) I've been stretching canvases and hope to start sketching my next large piece. Hopefully I'll be in the full swing of painting by the end of next week. But we'll see. I've not been terribly disciplined lately with my art.

Instead I've been focusing on perfecting bicycle commuting. It takes time to switch from cars to bikes, and it's a gradual learning process. Right now I'm obsessed with it. I don't think I'll go completely car free, but having a car (and car payment, insurance, gas) is getting increasingly silly. It's starting to irk me, maybe I'll have to do something as the biking becomes more natural. I'm down to 1 tank of gas a month now. Which actually isn't that special of an accomplishment since I only went through 2 tanks a month before I started biking. But 50% is good. I'm biking to work 3 days a week now. Eventually I'll work up to 5. I'm still getting used to the exercise, and my commute time is doubled by biking. I get pretty exhausted but I assume that will go away over time (I hope.) When I bike to work, it's 10 miles round trip, plus a bit on the subway. Maybe someday I'll bike the whole way, which would make it 16-20 miles round trip depending on the route. The commute is becoming a routine now. So on top of that I'm picking destinations and trying to get there without a car: Echo park, Hollywood & Highland, Downtown, North Hollywood, Burbank. On my bike I get all my groceries, pick up dry cleaning, go to the hardware store, Target, Arclight, go out to clubs in Hollywood (no more $10 parking!). It's awesome.

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.

Memories and Cross Processed Film

I am a bad photographer, waiting so long to develop my film. I always run out of money after buying the film. And then it piles up. Until I have a drawer of unprocessed rolls.

But I'm trying to work my way through it bit by bit. This is from a couple rolls that I cross processed. It was risky shooting in and around Paris with experimental photo processes, but I didn't want to take tourist photos, even if I had no clue what sort of image I would end up with. This was my 1st time trying cross processing so I really had no idea what to expect. I was told Fuji RXP would have an ethereal greenish haunting glow. And that Kodak E100VS would have super saturated colors.

Well, the Fuji RXP is awesome. It's kind of what a memory would look like, if it could be photographed. Fuzzy and kind of green. That's what you see above used to photograph Marie Antoinette's fake peasant village she used to play in with her friends. There are more pix over on flickr. It was very chilly an cloudy when I was there so there was no direct light. I generally hate photographing when there is no sun, I like waiting for the light to fall on a certain thing in a certain way and create images with alot of contrast. But I actually think the cloudy sky worked for me in these images, because everything came out a soft green. It has a very haunting quality. I don't know how sunlight would have affecting things, it may have given an entirely different feel to the photos. Maybe (when I have more money) I will shoot some more X-proccessed Fuji RXP.

The Kodak E100VS was not what I expected. It was very strange. I guess when I was told it would be very saturated, I pictured something like one gets pushing the exposure (or is it pulling, I always get the two confused.) But this came out looking like a child had played with all the filters in Photoshop. Here's an example (I did tone down the color a bit in Photoshop so it didn't hurt my eyes so much):



Many places where there was bright color just came out flat and two dimensional without much gradation. Plus it didn't help that many of the photos were blurry, no doubt a result of my inexperience with a Holga, and my tendency to be shy about taking photos of people on the street. I tend to rush and try to sneak photos unnoticed but that causes camera blur. I am much better at sitting with someone taking a few pictures as we chat. I think the difference is someone who gives me permission to shoot them and someone I have to sneak up on. I'll never be a good photographer of street scenes like I would love to be.

But for now, now that my latest art show is getting hung as I type this and I no longer have an imminent deadline for my painting, I think I will go back to photography for a bit. I need a change of pace.

Though it may not be for long because I already have my next show lined up for September. And I already have some paintings in the back of my head waiting to be brought into existence.

6hrs in Chicago

If I could get back all the time I spent in waiting rooms, lines, jury duty, the DMV, cafes, subways, and stranded in between things to do. I would probably have 2 more years worth of life to do other things. But I would also have significantly fewer sketches like this.

We are

Wilting



With barely enough shade



To cover our faces.

From Copenhagen to Los Angeles

(image by me of a woman biking in Vienna outside the Hofburg)


Okay, today I'm not blogging about art.... it's bicycles instead.

I've been cheating on LA and starting to read some European biking blogs (www.copenhagencyclechic.com, www.copenhagenize.com. Ever since I accidentally stepped into a Vienna bike path and was nearly hit by 30 bicycles coming straight at me, it was true love. So when it came to choosing a bike for myself (something I've been wanting to do for a couple years and not having the cash or the guts to bike alongside cars) I thought maybe I'd want a European looking bike since that is what first inspired me. And because to me, spandex and aerodynamic looking helmets are not sexy to me. I don't want to look like that. I had to do it my own way. Which is slow. And by slow, I mean dressed nice, casually cycling over to Figaro for a pain au chocolat or to Trader Joes for fresh mozzarella and avocados. To me this is how life should be lived. Slow and casual with plenty of small pleasures and sites to see. I've been biking to work and while it's changed my commute time from 20 minutes to 60, I am out in the sun meeting people, stopping for a casual muffin, and developing legs of steel. I know to some it sounds ridiculous to triple my commute. But so far I eat better, sleep better, feel better, avoid traffic & parking & gas, and feel more intimately acquainted with things around me. So when I read about the Slow Bike movement on Copenhagize.com, I decided I had to bring the concept to LA.


(image via copenhagize.com)

And why not? People in Los Angeles are all about style. We can just shift that from driving in Mercedes to cycling around on a Velorbis bicycle. Or for those who can't go all out and have a bike shipped sight unseen, to to Metropolis and they'll hook you up with an Electra
bike (get the Amsterdam model!) So I want to encourage all you Los Angeles girls out there to get dressed up and get the ultimate accessory, a bicycle. Let the boys can have their spandex, and we don't need to give up our heels. We'll be green in our own stylish way.

Also, just a note for the fearful: it's not that scary to bike on the street. I just take less busy roads or suburban streets or walk my bike across the supremely busy intersections. You don't need to dart in and out of traffic, fighting with cars to get in the left turn lane. Just take a deep breath, relax, go sloooow. If you get there 10 minutes later, who really cares. It's 10 minutes more of sunshine and freedom.

Making the best of Jury Duty

I recently had the pleasure of getting Jury Duty. So I tried to make the best of getting stuck in a room for 8 or 9 hours with complete strangers. It was so cramped, it was hard to discreetly draw people let alone move around and get a good angle on the real interesting faces. Yep, you see real interesting faces of all different types when you got Jury Duty. And they're all holding still for the most part. I didn't do much drawing until the end of the day when it was looking less likely I would be put on a jury. And the crowd had thinned out a bit by then. I think I missed some of the really interesting subjects, but I pretty much will draw whoever sits in front of me.

This first guy [below] had a real leathery face and the most amazing wrinkly eyes. He was also pursing his lips in a weird way that I couldn't capture. Before I could make a second attempt, he was gone.




This man had a very thick mustache that was baffling to me. It nearly hid his mouth. And the center parted hair made his face overly symmetrical I think, which I kind of liked. It was long on top and short on the side and elongated his face a bit. I was tempted to draw a caricature of him but resisted as best I could.




This woman had a very elegant profile and luckily held still long enough for me to capture it. There was something classical about it. I'm always glad when I find a face that lends itself to nice lines, it's rare when you're drawing from people sitting around.

magic.

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.

NEWS NEWS NEWS

Here's round up of what I've been up to lately:

Currently on view are some of my small pieces in “Persons of Interest” at Art Slave Gallery in Downtown Los Angeles. The show is up indefinitely, I’m guessing for another month or so. Visit Art Slave Gallery for more info.

Starting in early July, I will be a part of a group show called “Diverted Destruction” at The Loft at Liz’s on La Brea in Los Angeles. More specific details on this coming soon. This will be a really great show, so please come see it if you can!

New today is an interview with me on Spraygraphic.

I’ve posted a new painting on my website, go to www.bekkateerlink.com to view it.

Lastly, I am in the process of making framed prints and other things available at www.cafepress.com/bekkateerlink. I have a few things available there now, and much more on the way, so stay tuned!

let's all take the train instead

how the night finds us

Sleep Never

I'm behind and haven't been posting due to weeks of travel, a bad cold, and another show (which will be up for a bit if you're interested.)

One of the things I wanted to start doing was to start taking pictures of interesting things that catch my eye, and posting them. I've been itching to do this for a while because there are always things I want to capture and often it's not possible to sketch or anything. And sometimes a photo is really the thing that is needed. I bought a small little camera that fits in my bag for this purpose.

I thought it might be interesting to see what I'm compelled to photograph. It's definitely something that will come together over time. Some days I don't even touch the camera. Others, I go crazy. Anyway, since I'm behind on this, I'm going to post several today, in the order I took them....

Website Updated with New Paintings!

I've put 6 new 2008 paintings on my website (as well as my flickr site.)

Take a look!

www.bekkateerlink.com

I reordered the paintings on my website so not all the new one's come up right away.

A new website is coming soon, it's in the design phase and hopefully it will be done in a month or so depending on how busy things are. I want to have something with more involved navigation and paintings separated into different series by theme-- now that the number of paintings is climbing.

And don't forget the Cannibal Flower show this upcoming Saturday. I'll have a piece in it, probably an even newer one ...if it gets finished in time.

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.

Upcoming Show!

I have another show coming up in March. It's with Create:Fixate which puts on several shows a year which only last a single day. But they get massive amounts of people coming through and they're pretty well known. I have friends who don't like to do 1-day shows, but for me it seems that right now I just need to get as much exposure as possible, and that I can't turn down any opportunity to show. I'm hoping that shows like this might lead to other opportunities down the road. And more people see my work in 1 day of these shows than in 1 year if it just stays in my apartment.

The show is called "Transformation" and it explores "the topics of transformation in relation to human consciousness, energy, technology, creative expression the transformation of our environment in terms of climate-change, and how it affects our daily lives." So it's an environmental themed show, which is awesome.

I'm really excited for this show, and I've been working pretty hard on some new stuff to go in it. I decided I'm not going to post any images or detailed descriptions of what I'm working on until after the show-- so everybody will have to come out and see it in person. It's going to be a busy few weeks, and I may not blog much for a while because I want to put all my time into painting. I know I'm busy and focused when I don't even bother to make plans with friends on Saturday night. Seriously, I painted until 11 last night. Then I had dinner.

Right now I'm a little frustrated with one of my paintings so I thought I'd take a break. The canvas I made is not my best, and I don't know how it got so sloppy but sometimes it happens. I didn't stretch it tight enough-- but it seemed fine up until now. I don't know if I was tired when I stretched it or assumed it was tight enough when it was done and just kept going instead of redoing it.... But it's kind of crappy and I don't really know what I can do to fix it at this late point. I'm starting to wonder if it might be worth it to buy my stretcher bars from now on, instead of build them. Because the professionally made bars have ways you can tighten them later. But mine are dumb poor-man's stretchers. So this whole debacle is making me kind of depressed, and it's too late to re-do the canvas because it would take another few weeks I don't have. So I'm gonna make do and maybe turn to my Artist Handbook and see if there is any guidance. Or I'll just keep going and maybe later (after the show?) I can restretch it, which I hate to do and it may be even more frustrating for me. But I'll have to do something.

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.

Too much to see, too much to do... I'll paint instead.

I didn't see the Dali exhibit, and probably won't get around to Murakami at MOCA. These giant super-exhibits never seem to impress me. I did like the Hockney one at LACMA though, and kind of liked the Magritte-- it made me respect him (which was hard because for 4 yrs during college I worked in a museum gift shop and I lost interest in any artist/artwork sold on mousepads.)

But I did to go to the Harvard art museums and the MFA in Boston over the holidays, and that was magical. I had the idea to see all the works by John Singer Sargent in Boston, but then totally forgot about the Isabella Steward Gardner Museum's El Jaleo which is probably the most impressive Sargent there (well, that and The Daughters of Edward Darley Boit, which is my personal favorite.) The good news was that the MFA Sargent's are back on display (apparently construction of the new addition made them inaccessible earlier in the year.) The bad news is that I never made it across the street to the ISGM to see El Jaleo, and instead wandered down to Faneuil Hall to get fresh chocolate chip cookies and watch break dancers.

But after seeing the Sargent's and their very fresh lively use of paint, I couldn't be bothered to see the Dali exhibit. I find his paintings kind of drab and dead. I'm not a fan of surrealism, which is maybe odd because I've been painting surrealistically lately. But I really dislike it. And everybody asks me "Did you see the Magritte exhibit?" or "Are you going to Dali?" and I feel like a traitor. But when I explain to them the difference between what I'm doing versus the official surrealist movement, people's eyes glaze over. But after seeing the Magritte show, I was even more convinced I am not Surrealist (with a capital 'S'.) Surrealists are interested in the subconscious and dreams. Their movement corresponded with Freud's own work on dreams and the subconscious, though it had not been translated into French at the time-- the Surrealists just happened to be intrigued by the same ideas. Stuff like this is very intriguing to me, people exploring the same ideas in two countries unknown to each other. (The filmmaker Kieslowski was also intrigued by this, watch the extra features on "Blue"... and see is films, it is a recurring idea.) But I am not exploring the subconscious or dreams with my paintings. I think of it in a more literary way. I used to call it magical realism, and for a while I called them metaphor paintings, but still those terms don't seem right.

Most of my paintings are exploring issues and ideas that I see around me, in the media, in everyday life, and in my head. They are more collages and juxtapositions of real life things than anything else. More than anything else, they are about environmental issues, mainly because I'm completely scared shitless about this stuff and I am working it out in my head and it comes out in my paintings. I'm not trying to make "message" paintings, and want to keep away from that completely. But I want to let the confusion, frustration, and fear seep into the paintings.

This is probably why many of the paintings have figures with their backs to the viewers, it gives the painting a point of view so the viewer knows they are observing something instead of being lectured about something. I also think having a figure's back to the viewer will pull him in, because there is that natural instinct to want to see someone's face. I like to deny that to the viewer. I think it creates a tension, and also makes the viewer see the rest of the painting differently-- because then they are seeing what the figure in the painting is seeing. And they relate to the figure. Also I like the idea of viewing things through innocent eyes, which is why these days children are appearing in my paintings. (Many of which are in process and not posted anywhere yet, sorry.) It's like the book To Kill a Mockingbird-- it's about a controversial subject but because it's seen through the eyes of children there's more of an honesty and straightforwardness about it.

I'm rambling a bit today, and my thoughts are going million miles an hour. I've been working like crazy since the new year building new canvases and starting new paintings. Hopefully more coherent posts will follow, as well as pictures. And maybe I'll have a new *show* to announce soon, I've been working on that as well....

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.

Looking to Van Gogh...

I've been reading some of Van Gogh's letters to his brother-- I recommend them for any artist or art lover. It's one of the best art reads out there, with many great insights into Van Gogh and the world he lived in. Today I decided to start reading from the beginning with his first letter in the collection (by Irving Stone) and I'll try to read straight through to the end in order. In the first letter he mentions the above painting by Millet and then goes on to give this advice:

"Try to walk as much as you can, and keep your love for nature, for that is the true way to learn to understand art more and more. Painters understand nature and love her and teach us to see her. If one really loves nature, one can find beauty everywhere."

Vincent Van Gogh
London, June 1873

"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.

Stretching Canvas Week! ...or the "I need a much bigger apartment" blog

I am stretching 8 canvases this week, and hopefully will get well into oil priming them by Thanksgiving. I do them in batches, because it's hard to switch from stretching to painting in the same day. Mostly for space reasons. Depending on what I am doing, I usually have to reorganize my apartment to accommodate everything. The picture above is my living room. I don't paint in this room. It's usually used as a living room/office/library/dining room. But because it has more "open space" I use it for stretching canvas as well. My apartment has 2 other rooms. The kitchen, and the bedroom/laundry room/studio. It's pretty tight. I can turn around but that's about it. I do need to spend a weekend purging a bunch of stuff to make more space, but I've been meaning to do that since January and it's likely it will be a while before it happens. Once I get this latest round of canvases stretched, the tiny space will really start hitting me. 80% of my walls are already covered by existing art. And so once I start working on these canvases I'm going to run out of wall space real quick (I like to keep my paintings out in the open on walls while I work on them-- I think half of painting is just looking at the paintings as they progress....) So I am going to have to solve my space problem, and soon. Over the next months I will either A) need to sell paintings, B) need to lend paintings, C) need to get a raise so I can rent a storage space for paintings. I'm really really pulling for option A, but that's not going so well-- at least not for the big ones. (I guess technically I've sold 8 or 9 paintings this year, but they were super tiny.) But for now I'm just going to keep on stretching and painting. I'm aiming to do a couple more paintings by the end of the year, so I can go out with a bang. Then more at the start of the year... to start the year with a bang. Hopefully I'll have more shows coming up, that I'm working on. I am going to do a 1 day show on December 13 with some small works, so I'll be working on those for the next week or so while I get my big big canvases primed and ready for action.

At Sea

It's an in between week for me. In between shows, in between paintings, kind of a no man's land of creativity. A week where nothing will happen as I am out of canvases and finished with the ones I have... and I itch for another deadline to burn myself out on. I should start planning my next pieces (before I find myself with a new and impossible deadline upon me.) But instead I've been playing rainy-weepy guitar for hours broken up by periodic trips to various bookstores to see if they have Anais Nin's Collages which I am determined to read next (even though I have a stack of other unread books right next to me. I should read those first probably....) I just read the other day that Anais Nin lived not more than 2 miles from here, and I tend to cling to any shred of literary history that Los Angeles can claim. I almost walked to her house yesterday but had to stop myself because I had things to do and it was getting dark.

I am pondering my next paintings, there are several distinct stages of painting. For me it seems the conception of paintings is separate from the actual painting. I will spend a month or two brainstorming and developing my paintings-- this usually involves sketching in photoshop, collecting reference, and just churning out the basic framework for a number of pieces. This is usually the most creative part of painting, but sometimes the physically most dull part because it involves sitting in front of a computer more than a canvas. The actual painting I love completely, because I'm on my feet in action. It becomes a sort of a dance with music blaring and my brush moving to the rhythm. I love it because it is very high energy, creative, and instinctual (versus intellectual and sendentary.) When I'm painting, I usually have a permanent high. And right now, this week is the exact opposite-- that low valley between mountains, an anticlimax.

Hopefully by the end of the week I'll find the beginnings of my next paintings, and I'll start work on some canvas frames. (Yay, woodworking time!) Perhaps the industry of cutting lumber and the rush of using power tools is just what I need. I may be fancy this time and break out my router and make my own beveled edges.

Spaceland Sketches

I've posted some fun little sketches I did at the Parson Redheads show last week at Spaceland. I kind of wish it was less crowded so I could've snagged a table closer. But instead I was tucked between the merch table and the trash can looking at the backs of heads. Spaceland is not the best place to sketch, Silverlake Lounge is better, and perhaps Bordello. Also El Rey is good (when they have the tables & chairs set up along the side) because it's easy to see over heads and sometimes the lighting guy throws up some crazy stuff. I think my new fantasy is to someday paint a large canvas live on stage with a band. I heard it's been done before, it never occurred to me it could be done. In high school during talent show time I would feel left out that as an artist I couldn't put my talent in front of an audience. But live painting side by side with music would definitely work. Some day I will find a way to do this. Meanwhile I will keep drawing at shows I go to sitting quietly off to the side....

Cigarettes and Red Vines

I saw Aimee Mann today on Vermont Blvd. I had her CD Bachelor No. 2 on repeat when I first moved to LA (along with The Who's greatest hits.) I got to see her perform at Largo last year, I was sitting 4 feet from the stage with best bud Guillermo and sipping on a dirty martini. It was one of the best live shows I've seen, despite the fact she kept forgetting her own lyrics (thankfully the audience could help her there.) Seeing her reminded me of that awesome show, and made me think of all the wonderful shows I've gone to here in LA. Here is my top list of the best musicians/performers I've seen:

1. Josh Ritter - I've seen him 4 times live and every show I'm blown away. It's partly the sheer energy, the stage persona, and the band as a whole. I think his lyrics are the most interesting and wonderful that I've heard. I'm really drawn to the images and concepts in them, and he uses the most bizarre juxtapositions and references. I had been thinking about metaphor in literature vs. painting for a while (See my painting "In The Ruins of the City" for a prior attempt.) But it was his CD "The Animal Years" that crystallized my thinking about this and compelled me to follow my instinct about using my own bizarre juxtapositions of imagery (see "The Edge of the World.") I'll probably write more about this later, since it's been on my mind again as I start a new series of paintings in the vein of The Edge of the World...
2. Mia Doi Todd - Every time I go see her I seriously float home and start painting or writing poetry furiously. Her lyrics are so plain and deceptively simple yet beautiful-- they often consist of simple observations but it takes someone like her to turn them from ordinary to an extraordinary song. I studied poetry in college with Olga Broumas, and reading poetry aloud was very important there. When poetry is read well, it has a musical quality. And Mia's music/voice somehow seems to straddle the world of music and poetry. Plus she performs barefoot and uses a harmonium, and I looove things like that.
3. Ferraby Lionheart - Another LA local, I first heard his music on the radio as I was moving my last load of belongings to my new place here in Silverlake. It took me a while to track him down online (now it's not as hard since he's starting to get some attention) but I was able to see him play solo a couple days later. I think what struck me about him is his reserved quality as well as how magical his music is. I also find something familiar about his music, and after some thought I decided that his songs feel like songs I would write myself (well... if I could write music.)
4. Aimee Mann- I loved her live, partly because of the intimacy of the venue and the casual quality of the performance. She had no set list, and I think some of her back up musicians were not her normal people and just following along. Also since I found her music during a transitional period in my life so it just holds so much extra meaning for me.

Un-updated?

I revised my website again, and undid a few things I did late night earlier this week. I need to stop impulsively starting on projects at 2am (notice the timestamp on this blog, I am seriously crazy and should be asleep now.) So for now the artist statement has been removed, I am once again mulling it over.

Website Updated, for now.

I've updated my website so it has my latest paintings. I also reorganized the order that the paintings are viewed, so the recent ones pop up first (sort of, they're also somewhat ordered by concept too.) I also put a semi-coherent artist statement which shall be revised once I get a 1st and 2nd and 3rd opinion on it. It's still nowhere near perfect. It's hard to write one universal statement to cover every idea in my head and in my work. There's still so much I didn't get into, I feel like I could write a book. It's is additionally hard to write a statement when I'm going through a period where I'm feeling a bit scattered artistically. I had a show a few weeks ago where I saw a bunch of my recent pieces next to each other and I felt they were so different as if they were separated by years and not days or months. I resolved then to be more focused and unified somehow, even if it was just done by a unified color palette. I'm still turning this all over in my head, and I got a sort of unsatisfied feeling in my stomach. I know at some point I'll find my new direction and start a brilliant new series of paintings. For now, I'm loosing myself in music and a bit of poetry as a change of pace.

Try to compose it,
it fails
the center vanishes

the figure
suddenly
nowhere
in sight

or hiding under
scraps of buildings
the columns of a fallen bridge
any thing hard will do
as shield
or carapace

yet nothing stays
everything disperses
you cannot draw this
dust as it rises

excerpt from the poem "To the Far Corners of Fractured Worlds" by Susan Griffin. (from The Gift of Tongues by Copper Canyon Press.)

(I just realized I don't know the protocol for quoting poetry or other published material in a blog. Is it allowed, and how much? I have absolutely no clue, it's such a new world for me. If this has crossed any lines, please politely inform me and I'll remove it.)

bohemian night

Walking at night is lovely in silverlake, I think i could walk forever along the dark curvy roads that seemingly go nowhere. this time of year there aren't as many flowers blooming, that I missed. their scent is stronger at night and reminds me of northern Israel where there is a city I visited where the air is filled with the aroma of every flower possible and I've tried to figure out what flowers they were ever since. And I swear there are the same flowers here in LA.... But tonight the aroma was more of mulch and dirt which is pleasant in a different way. And the hills were very quiet, just the hum of traffic in the distance. I don't like to listen to music when I walk. Natural sounds are even better... the brief bits of conversation, TV, music. The constant rhythm of my feet. I steal glimpses into lit windows that feel like frames of pictures. I see vases, couches, chandeliers, framed art, books. I wonder what they read, who they are, what they do, where they go. Everything looks charming in a window, it's like a miniature stage with much quieter drama. Sometimes there are no characters at all. The roads are very narrow with little lighting and steep inclines. The homes are build into the hills and overgrown plants in a haphazard terraced manner. Some of the homes look like the big earthquake has already hit. They have crooked doors and sagging beams and the paint falls off like paper. There are vines every where, and hidden staircases and lamps meekly radiating yellow light. There are no straight lines or order, and it's almost as if you can see all the changes and incremental movement of the landscape from decades layered on top of each other like multiple exposures.

My walk ended at spaceland-- which was more a reason to walk through the hills at night than a destination. I have returned to sketching musicians and crowds. It seemed like I needed to be a bit bohemian and return to living fluidly without structure or discipline. When I draw from people (especially in a public place) there is no control. People move, stand still, turn around, block your view-- whatever is unexpected. It's nice to sketch them because I can't get too precious about anything. I see a nice moment... such as a person whispering in another's ear, a couple embracing, a person walking through my view... and it's gone. I draw what I can. Sometimes it's a figure, somtimes it's just an elbow or outline or nose. I layer the drawings on top of each other and they form a sort of messy shape of gestures. Again, it's kind of like multiple exposures. Little is recognizable, I capture the energy of a person or people moving by and it's gone. And then among all this I like to put the sketchpad down and join the picture because behind all of this is the music which always put's me in a transcendent mood and makes me skip home giddy and glowing.

"Walden" 2006. Oil on canvas, 15x19 inches.

This painting was done along side of "Away." I had the idea of a girl sitting in a rowboat with no oars. Originally it was going to be set on the ocean. But then I changed it to a New England setting, out of a bout of homesickness probably. (My family has a canoe that they often take out onto the Concord River.) I set this painting on Walden Pond, mainly since I have a large obsession with Henry David Thoreau and have read Walden and Civil Disobedience way too many times. This painting was made at a point in my life where I felt I was going nowhere, and I started was asking myself what was most important to me. It was at this point where I taped the following quote onto the wall of my studio:

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practice resignation, unless it was quite necessary.

"Away" 2006. Oil on canvas, 13x16 inches.

This painting is significant to me because I painted it at a time where I was in a crossroads in my life. I wasn't really very satisfied with my life and had come to a point where a decision had to be made... the type of decision that takes 9 months to make and you don't realize you're even making it until you look back and realize how far you've travelled from where you started.

This painting is about withdrawing from one world and going into the unknown. The figure is walking away from us, and we can't see her face or what's ahead of her. I'm fascinated with painting people from behind because the first impulse when we see someone from behind is to try to see around to their face. And in this painting I deny the viewer the woman's face, and it creates a tension that pulls them in.

I also wanted to have an element of darkness in this painting. I didn't want to literally paint anything threatening into the image-- but by placing a woman into natural setting there is an implicit quality of vulnerability. Nature is wild and untamed, and dark forests hold the unknown-- the looming possibility of danger. But there is also a regenerative quality to them as well as a spiritual one. I think of this painting as sort of a fairy tale-- the moment our hero embarks on a journey into the unknown.

Because music is very much intertwined with my life and my paintings, I want to include a few songs that were in my head when I made this:

Earlimart - Treble and Tremble, "Tell the Truth, Pts. 1 and 2"
David Kilgour - Frozen Orange, "G Major 7"
Seekonk - For Barbara Lee, "Maps of Egypt"
The Dissociatives - The Dissociatives, "Lifting the Veil from the Braille"
The Shins - Oh, Inverted World, "New Slang"

Blogging my Paintings...

I've been struggling over writing a concise and accurate artist statement these days. Well months, I've been putting it off regularly. I feel my work is in state of change-- so it is hard for me to make statements on my body of work as a whole. Much of what I would say now about my work doesn't even apply to paintings I did earlier this year. And what's in my head now has yet to be seen on the canvas. So I thought I would do it my own way, and write a statement about each painting on my website (as well as all the details people ask like "How long did it take?') I'm gonna try to do this over the next week or two while I have some downtime catching my breath between shows. (Next show(s) to be announced soon, FYI. I have a couple things in the works...)

switching gears... again

I'm doing a bunch of photos this week. I thought I would be back to painting now that my open studio show is done, but I think painting will have to wait just a while longer. (This is what happens without an impending deadline. There's a tiny show next month I think I might see if I can get in on, just for a deadline. But I'm procrastinating that as well.)

I'm taking photos these days. And not self portraits for once. I've been doing headshots off an on for a while as a side gig. But I wanted to do a little more so I've angling to take some publicity shots for musicians. And since I've been thinking along photography lines lately-- it is always my style to get carried away. Because I've already come up with several series worth of photos. (It's hard, everything I look at inspires me... it gets ridiculous because I can't keep up with myself. But I do this when I am concepting new paintings too... come up with 20+ at one time until I just come to the natural end of the line of thought.)

The photos series I'm going to do first was inspired by a trip to the 99-cent store (the best place for inexpensive inspiration, 2nd only to the fashion/garment/jewelry district downtown.)

I call it the "Bubble Gum Series", because it's going to be completely over the top with candy colors, childlike themes, playful feel, and a complete lack of seriousness. It's so easy to get serious with fine art portraiture. I want to do something all out goofy.

So it started by my not being able to afford photo backdrops at $40 each just for the 53in roll of photo paper. Let alone the apparatus to hold it up. So I went to the 99-cent store to have a look around, mainly for anything matte, and black or gray. They didn't have that. But I found other stuff: bright wrapping paper, table cloths, shower curtains. All perfect for backdrops. Then I found balloons. Ribbons. Childrens make-up. Very mundane 99cent stuff, but I always find that it's the simple stuff that is the most promising.

Now I'm saddled with the chore of coordinating my "models", mainly my friends and acquaintances who say "Sure, I'll up for that" and then promptly get busy with other stuff. Which means by Monday I'll be doing self portraits again.

Found out today...

Rudolf Arnheim passed away June 9th at age 102.

poem

I'm tired, so tired.
I have sleep to do.
I have work to dream.

~Bill Knott, "(End) of Summer"

hmm... I should write more.

I've been missing for a while. Somehow months slipped by. But they were busy months, full of art, as well as annoying stuff like 15 yr old cars with dying transmissions, subways, working weekends, logistics of organizing a show, preparing for the show, having the show, and now recovering from the show (recovery means watching re-runs of shows on cable wearing pajamas at 5pm.)

I think I'm now into a new period of creative things. I'm going to paint more, photograph more, write more. I have to stop going in so many directions, and not rush. Deadlines are good though, but I've had too many lately. I just hope I don't get lazy without them for the next little bit.

Above is a commission I did recently in the middle of all the craziness. It came out great-- and I think I need to do more like it. It's mixed media (acrylic, gesso, gel medium, pages torn out of Franny & Zooey) & covered by a couple layers of UV gloss, on panel.

It of my friend Julie who was in a Franny & Zooey inspired movie I made a couple years back. For this piece I worked from video, which is unique. Actually I recently saw a show where the artist supposedly painted from video-- I don't know if he painted from video as it played or from a video still (I'm curious...). But for my piece, I captured a couple stills from a scene and superimposed them, and fiddled with them a little in photoshop-- and then painted from the photoshop image as well as a series of 3 still frames. I'm thinking video might be a cool way to work now, even from moving video. I have to play with it more. But I like having a digital step to my art-- even if there is no digital element literally in my work. I do all my preparatory "sketches" in photoshop now. Sometimes I sketch stuff and composite it in the computer (so I can move it around.) Other times it's photos. I can play with color and composition-- and it is much faster than painting a series of miniature painting studies. My teachers in school would have a heart attack about this though. And perhaps a miniature painting could serve a purpose too. But I have limited time, and I never allowed myself anything digital before... and I always had such purist art teachers who never planted the possibilities of technology in my head. But I'm sure had the Renaissance or Impressionists, etc. had photoshop-- they would have used it like crazy.

new drawings

I posted some recent drawings on my flickr site. I started a 2nd sketchbook of more refined drawings of ideas I am working out-- some may become paintings. I needed a way to develop my ideas for paintings that didn't take very much time-- especially since my paintings can take anywhere from 1 month to 1 yr to make.

I've also been developing new paintings by composting photos and sketches in photoshop. That way I can move elements around. change color, change sizes, and pretty much play with infinite variations. I won't post any of these because they're ugly and they only come together in the painting.

stir crazy

I've been in my house painting all day (well, painting and checking myspace) and I'm getting stir crazy. I want to go outside to stores and buy things. But I don't need anything-- except fresh air. I just need to paint paint paint.

Since the holidays I've been painting like crazy, and taking slides and submitting to things. I haven't had a moment to spare really-- just using every free minute to get things done. Today's the first day back painting after a mad stretch of self promotion. I feel rusty. The colors are all wrong and I'm getting too tight-- I think my paintings look better loose and messy-- but sometimes I start to get tight and I go too far and things start getting flat and one dimensional, like the face of a lady with a really bad face lift. It all gets muddled and lifeless.

I'm working on a new series of paintings which I should be done with soon since I've been working so much. Plus I'm submitting them to a show on Monday, so they have to be close to done by then. I got rejected from my first show of the year already as well-- but I'll stay positive, because I have so much better stuff happening that hasn't been seen by anybody yet.

For the time being, I just gotta focus on working and resist the urge to go on 5hr walks or to the mall to try on clothes. When I get frustrated with painting, I itch to quit and do something else but I've found that working through it is the best thing-- and when i learn the most. And it's no good to just paint when I'm in the mood to paint well. I'd only paint one month out of the year at that rate-- spread through out the year.