I Am Seeking Too

I recently discovered the journals of Elisabeth Couloigner on Pinterest, specifically her "I'm Searching" series.  I am captivated by the simplicity of color and texture that she employes, and have come to realize that it's those very things in art that really makes my heart sing.  It's why I love abstracts so much, especially those that lean toward the subdued.  I try to get colorful, but it just doesn't feel right to me--maybe down the line, who knows!

At any rate, I have been inspired to start my own journal in response to Elisabeth's "I'm Searching."  I've actually been looking at just this kind of thing to use as a way to start my day or before a painting session, so I dug out a moleskine journal, and "I Am Seeking Too" was born.  Interestingly, it's the one place that I enjoy using acrylics these days--I think it's the surface of the journal paper.  The real win, however, is that I'm playing, learning, and gathering ideas for future abstracts all at the same time. I will be using some of my daily journal paintings for part of the 30 day challenge I'm participating in.  I really, really want to keep up with everyone, and this is one way that I know I can. 

There All Along

"When the soul lies down in that grass the world is too full to talk about." Rumi

I've decided to participate in a 30 paintings in 30 days challenge via the Artists helping Artists podcast. While they won't all be encaustic, I'm happy to have this painting to present for day one. I basically stepped away from encaustics for the month of August and, instead, focused on oil and cold wax. It was a good decision, I believe. Coming back to it today felt good and right. 

"There All Along" 8x8 encaustic, oil, and image transfer on cradled birch panel. 

Walk Toward Me

“In your light I learn how to love. In your beauty, how to make poems. You dance inside my chest where no-one sees you, but sometimes I do, and that sight becomes this art.”
― Rumi 

 

I ran across this quote by Rumi today, which is just lovely, as Rumi is apt to be, and it got me to thinking...I wonder, how many times have you heard the question, "Where does art come from?"  Have you thought about it?  Does it matter to you?   Do we think about these things too much?  Can the question ever really be answered?  Is your answer the only relevant answer--for you? 

I liken the Rumi quote to the Sanskrit word, namaste.  We've all heard it spoken; it's part of our popular culture now, but more than a greeting, the word namaste is saying that we recognize a spark of divinity in another person, and that that same spark resides within us.  Is art, perhaps, the physical manifestation of the witnessing of our divinity? 

"Walk Toward Me" 10x10 oil and cold wax on wood panel. 

So I Changed

“Yesterday I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today I am wise, so I am changing myself.” Rumi

I've been struggling a bit with my encaustic painting, and have been on a self-imposed break to regroup.  I'm pretty hard on myself when I paint.  Perhaps it's because I'm looking to deliver a piece of myself onto the board or canvas, and if I can't feel my presence, neither will anyone else.  That is my purpose, that is what drives me: to feel the catch in my heart when I know I've done it.  To have the colors, textures and lines translate into an expression of well, my soul.  I'm not saying I've created a masterpiece or that the feeling happens as strongly with every painting, it doesn't.  What I mean is that I am no longer waving my hands about and saying in a childlike manner, "see me, see me!" Instead, I grow older and wiser (hopefully) and feel like it's a kind of offering.  Something that people can take or not, like or not--it's still me.  

"So I Changed" is 16x16 cold wax and oil on a cradled panel.  I posted two photos showing the transformation in my layers on my last post on August 2nd.  This is now the finished painting.  

On The Easel Lately

"The beginning is the most important part of the work." Plato

In my dreams I often find myself in front of a very large canvas holding an equally large palate knife.  I smooth the paint along and it flows like soft frosting.  The room is quiet; the only sounds are the scratch of the knife as it moves along the canvas and that of my breath.  The act of painting itself seems effortless and natural--graceful even, with movements akin to a waltz. I am meant to do this.

Maybe I've watched the Gerhard Richter documentary too many times, who knows, but seriously, this a recurring dream.   I'm not questioning whether I know what I'm doing or not; I'm just painting.  If only that state of mind would follow me into my waking hours!  I have at least 6 encaustic paintings started and I'm stalled, which is why I've been allowing myself some cold wax time.  It's kind of like the buttery paint of my dreams!

My first layers....   

I image not much of the red will remain-just hints perhaps, but it's just the beginning and like Plato says, it's the most important part of the work.  Surely not for it's great beauty, but rather for the process; for the seed of yourself that is exposed and implanted before your brain and ego get involved.

Birth The Unbound

The past week or two I have been experimenting with oil and cold wax in between my time with encaustics. I'm looking to get out of my own way, trying to become less rigid, which may take some doing but it's something I really need to cultivate! My paints are laid out on my table and instead of full on painting sessions, I find myself pondering what to do next as I walk by.  I stop and I dabble, then I think some more as I continue on my way.  Perhaps the next time I stop I'm there for an hour.  I'm just letting myself be free with the process--I'm not trying so hard, I'm just letting myself experiment and create.   My favorite time, however, has been the early morning.  Sleepy-eyed but with fresh perspective there are no boundaries. 

I'm keeping the palette simple-just a few colors that I love. That's what it's all about after all-doing what you love. 

Lost In the Call

"Let the caller and the called disappear; be lost in the call." Rumi

I have been painting a lot.  Sadly, however, I have not been producing anything I'd care to share, and have been scraping the wax off my paintings as quickly as I put it on.  It's frustrating, yes, but truthfully it makes me a little sad.  Sad because I start doubting myself; I begin wondering what I'm doing aside from wasting time and money.  I will be the first to tell you that I'm self-taught, that I'm not always clear about what I'm doing technique wise or compositionally (I hope that's a word.) I will also tell you that despite wanting to pull my hair out the majority of the time, I love painting.  Time is irrelevant and non-existent when I'm painting.  I talk to myself, I wonder, I try colors, I'm curious and I am fully engaged. I am lost in the call.

"Lost In the Call" is my first oil and cold wax painting.  It's 12x12 on a canvas panel.  It was an interesting process--quite different from my normal encaustic painting, but fun.  I plan on playing with this medium a bit more!