Final Fellowship Collection

And...we've reached the end.  I'm exhausted, but in the way I am exhausted after having a charged and therapeutic conversation.  I've had many of those throughout this process, not only with the work as I make it, but with Brianna, my studio-mate, when I don't think I'm going to make it to the end.  (Thanks, Bri.)  Well, I'm at the end.  Now I just need to figure out how I'm going to prepare all these panels for hanging (I'm pretty sure the gallery director isn't going to go for thumbtacks).

 

fellowship show, onward!

Can you tell how many panels I've finished now? I'm headed towards 50, and ideally more than that... This process is so intuitive at this point--I've gotten out of my head to an extent that has freed my hand. I have to keep letting habits die so that I continue to manipulate the trash and colors (the same trash and colors I've been working with since January) in fresh, not-boring ways. But it really involves spacing out, not overthinking it. It's as if my concept is just embedded in the materials and alive in my hands, I no longer need my brain to transmit the general idea. If I'm going to get to 50 of these things in the next three weeks, this is what needs to keep happening.

What I Have, What I Dream Of continued

it became clear about halfway through this process that a single layer wasn't going to allow me to express my understanding of the complex relationship between city and nature. Once I cut the original images into strips and situated them on top of one another (see last post of this piece) and then began to work back into the image as a whole (this post) I came to see this piece as a metaphor for the upward motion of the city.

The base layer of this work, upon which all the maps and geometric fields rest, can be interpreted as nature, before any human altered it. The rest of the composition is supported by that layer, and as your eye moves towards the uppermost drawings you may notice how simple, geometric, and sparse they become. In only two or three areas did I allow the eye to perceive clearly the organic that exists beneath all the gridwork, and I imagine these areas to be reminders--what if we were to lift up a stretch of the city and remember again everything wild that lives down there?

This blueprint is representative of how I perceive the city. If one were able to slice it into vertical strata, the lowest layer would be the richest and most organic, and the highest layer would only include empty air and the rectangles of the highest buildings. Everything in between would be defined in terms of the spectrum set up by the lowest and highest layer.

Fellowship Panels, Update

I'm beginning to slow down on these a bit for a lack of focus and a slight loss of interest, but I have to keep plugging. Hopefully continued work on them will get me off the plateau and help me pick up the pace!

composition in string no. 6

A sort of map of the string sculpture, in gouache (my first time using it.) Two paintings overlapped. Some sections cut out. A drawing in charcoal began each painting. The thought process was almost entirely about the color once I started painting. I treated the drawings somewhat like coloring books.

30" by 60" (approx)

getting mileage out of that string

Now I'm painting from the string spaces. Which is a challenge, when I'm working in oil and refuse to use a three haired brush. I don't think I'll be painting them as forms after this one, because, to be frank, I think blown up, fat looking string in a painting looks cheesy. I may be using them as flat color in the next painting as a way to break up the composition geometrically.

But the solvent saturated paint that being thrown around in the background of this piece, SO much fun!

string things

I've been toying with the idea of a visual representation of a single life, specifically the progression from innocence to experience. This is the form I've come up with.

String, a tack, all strings supporting a leaning frame and converging at the tack on the studio wall. To the left is a good explanation of how the object looks in my studio space.

When the viewer looks up into the frame, they are put in the small position of an innocent person, probably a child but not necessarily. Everything they see is within the frame, and there is very little color on their side of the frame; in their experience. But, as most people do, there comes a point where one must leave behind the framed world and jump into the mess of knots, twisted threads, uncertain roads.

Here, and from almost any other viewpoint around my composition, there is more color, more understanding, and a greater sense of the whole, the way of things. There is also more confusion, but it is confusion that is tangible and could be worked out.

Beyond the Map

when i closed my eyes a few nights ago I saw this pattern on the insides of my eyelids...blue interlocking blobs with four tentacles each, and one green one. i had to make note of it, in case it turned into anything. it turned into this tree. i finished this piece before i even went back to sleep that night. it should be called something like "taking off" or "the exciting unknown" or "up and out" but without the cliche-ness. It both got me out of my dry spell from artwork and made me think of how little I've planned past the next two years, which is more appealing than scary at the moment. I think the swingless swinger agrees.

SOLD October 2009