At the National Gallery of Art, East Wing again this weekend. A favorite confluence of art and architecture and figures in motion. This is what art is for me. Like dance. A series of experiences, visual and visceral. One builds on another creating meaning over time. Art is a continuum. Nothing static about it. What went before, unseen, and what comes after is all a part of the picture. No standing still. Life goes on. And On. And all that was still is and will be still.
...and the livin is easy. A little breakthrough for me and none too soon. Friday I went to artMRKT San Francisco and found a whole bunch of inspiration. Especially Rebecca Farr's Edge paintings. And two from Marion Tivital. I could go on about the grayed color and close values and simple composition and contemplative feel of these works. But in the end, it all boils down to the same old thing. Do your own damn thing however you need to do it and drop the fear. Don't mind if I do.
Yesterday I got the urge to paint cows again. With people coming and going hither and yon, just seeing cows dotting the green- turning- golden hills makes me feel at home. Which is where I am glad to be.
Afternoon nap, or is it morning? How would you know? Could be anytime and any place that Rosie curls up in a circle of fur and settles in for a snooze. It's one of the great things about having a dog around. The world's turmoil dissolves in an instant, just seeing her there, a reminder to calm down and dream a little.
The sun is back and it's the weekend. Setting off for Sonoma, having decided to pass on Open Studios this year. The studio is full of paintings about to be shipped to Maine. And dogs galore. If anyone wants to take a look before they go, stop by early next week. (Call first.)
The studio is also filled with notes jotted down on scraps of paper here and there. Each a little inspiration coming from someone on the radio or in an article, or from my own mind. Having read Jane Brody's "Making Progress Against Clutter" article in Tuesday's New York Times, I am on a throw- everything -away binge again. But I'm having a hard time parting from the little pieces of paper:
"dumb luck and good fortune" - Explanation for marrying my best friend and biggest fan.
"shine a light on ordinary life" - Wish I could remember who said that. It's at the root of what I try to do.
"close to home" - Title for a series of paintings. Or a book. Three words that calm me right down.
"seeing in a different light" - Another title or series idea.
"at sea" - Along with "off course" and "struggle," describing my state of mind.
Now that I've written them here, maybe I can toss the pieces of paper and head for the hills with Rosie.
Yesterday evening was downright balmy, warm enough for the boys to gather for cocktails on the deck. Rosie savored the camaraderie and neighborliness of the occasion, which was an impromptu, unofficial celebration of Life. Our favorite kind.
A lot of information, but what struck me is his comment, "When you buy art you're buying a story." Whoa. Light bulb. That's what I do here every day. Now how to transfer the daily post to a permanent place out in the real world? And how to create paintings that are experienced as a series which is how I see and experience the world?