getting my mind out of the city

I'm on vacation.  Well, my body is still walking down the parkway to school every day, but in the studio I am walking through the woods behind my house in Maine, watching my mother tend her gardens, thinking of the colors of the late afternoon in Umbria two springs ago, and peering at the sky through the cherry blossoms of April.  And I'm wondering if the result of all this pretty and happy will be too precious or trite.  I guess I have every reason to revel in real beauty--this art isn't a brain twister or a solution to the world's problems, but perhaps it's a positive experience for my viewer and that is enough right now?

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.

Mardi Gras

"Overgrowth." The ink drawing in this watercolor just poured out late two nights ago, as if my brain just needed a good rinse before I called it a day. I've always considered myself a morning person, so it's strange that I've made a habit of doing outside-of-my-sketchbook stuff at night. Perhaps it has something to do with the Nanny job I've had this summer, which has given a whole new excitement to solitude.

I think I could have planned more carefully the colors, maybe restricted my palette a bit, because I didn't intend the Mardi Gras effect. Oh well. My Mommy liked it.

AS OF 9/20: THIS WORK TO BE SOLD AT THE 10X10 SHOW BRUNSWICK, MAINE. FOR MORE INFORMATION CONTACT ME.

Urbal

Urbal. A Sixteen-Panel Abstract Drawing. The whole process of making this work yielded an efflux of thoughts, streams of consciousness, rhythms, and discussions all surrounding issues of home and creativity. Because I was raised in Maine, moving to Philadelphia was quite the leap. I have experienced all sorts of tensions and contradictions that result from creating in such a foreign, busy, regulated, stimulating, and often overwhelming environment. With these drawings, I was asking myself these questions:

Why do I find myself at my creative peak in the midst of such a non-organic environment? How is this possible? Is it possible for an organic aesthetic to harmonize with that of the city? How can I slow down in this fast new world? How is my creativity affected when I get bogged down in the fast rigidity of the city? What life exists in the city? What structure exists in the country? What gets lost in the city, the country? How have both environments shaped and contributed to my artwork? My life?

While I did not find answers to all above questions through the creation of this series, I did make progress, and my art was much changed. Layers of work in the same space became the perfect method of feeling out my conflicts and never getting stuck in one mode of thought or a single answer/solution. I've found that my heart really lies in the process of layering drawings and materials in my art, and I've been exploring this direction since.