Self-Definition

Vintage Vinegar Jar   watercolor   11.5 x 8

as an artist is difficult to come by.  Long ago, I read somewhere that it takes 500 + paintings in order to find one's style, one's place in the painting spectrum.  In the beginning, we are just trying to "get it right".  It takes plenty of brush yielding to attain the freedom to own your work....to make it your own.  Contemporary galleries often desire work that is incredibly specialized....the painter repeating the same forms over and over with slight variances, in order for collectors to be able to recognize THE WORK.  I am a naysayer.  While I enjoy figurative work immensely, I also enjoy painting all kinds of things...even a landscape or two now and then.  In this case, I found this vintage vinegar jar at our local art center where shelves are filled with all manner of interesting objets, all ripe for the painting.  I enjoyed this little exercise.  I like to think that it is my manner of application, my stroke-making, my individual hand, that defines my work.  My life.  My decision.  My self-definition. 

I can paint whatever stirs something in me.  Yeah!

I am not a traditional realist...

Tomato Basket   oil/canvas   16 x 20 x 1.5

There, I said it.  Acceptance of my artistic direction.  Said with a sense of loss.  And also with a sense of relief.  I so admire traditional realism.  But after years of wiping out chairs upon which the models rest, I am ready to face my own direction with fortitude.  I have tried painting the barn behind the horse, the curtain behind the still life and the trees behind the model.  My sense of aesthetics has urged me to wipe them all out.  Yes, a light source matters to some degree.  It helps to describe my realistic forms, to ward them away from flatness.  But the design approach of dark and light patterns is where my thrill is....those patterns that exist and move and relate without regard to the subject matter.

"Tomato Basket" took quite a while to paint,  I remember being confused by my own desires being in conflict with the window behind the basket.  The tomatoes literally rotted while I figured it all out.

I am what I am and that's all that I am........Popeye

Fine or Chunky?...

Silverplate Pot   watercolor/charcoal   9.5 x 10

Discovering yourself in your art is very exciting.  It defines who we are personally and helps us celebrate our own uniqueness, oneness.  I love all things chunky - salsa, spaghetti sauce, applesauce, jewelry and orange juice with pulp.  Mugs, not teacups.  I prefer large brushes and chunks of charcoal...never pencils.  The first week of watercolor class is always a bit problematic in that no one is really prepared for an assignment.  I asked each artist to grab something in the well-stocked trove of still life objects at the art center.  I grabbed a tarnished silver plate teapot.  I don't question my motivations....I just go with my first inclination.  It was indeed a challenge with all of that tarnished goldeny-violety-blacky reflectiveness....and some dents as well.  It was only when I finished the work at home that my self-definition revived itself.  The beauty of this pot was in the embossing on the handle and on the spout.  But when I picked up a small paintbrush, I felt disappointment...a "why bother" kind of feeling.  It was just short of revolting.  I always want to finish off a class project using only watercolor because, after all, it is a watercolor class.  But I had to be true to myself.  The pot was finished with chunky charcoal lines which pleased me greatly.  The overall feel is always more important than the detail to me.

I was reminded of who am am.

Who am I?...

Hiding Behind Curls   watercolor   10.5 x 9

We artists often struggle with self-definition.  What makes our own particular brand of picture-making our own?  As we study other painters, we wish to assimilate their virtues without copying them.  We also long for self-definition.  Very often, in my experience, we find when we are on the road to SELF when we look around and realize what we are not.  I idolized one particular painter's style until I realized that he just didn't give a damn about paint quality.  Paint quality is so important to me.  So I splintered off from this idolatry toward some other admiration.  And so on and so on.  What is left at the end of the long journey, hopefully, is what we are, what makes our own work our own....SELF.  For some, vivid colors rule.  For others, spontaneous stroke-making.  Story-telling is at the top of the list for some. For others, having a finished work that is exactly like its photograph....one could hardly tell the difference.  Others enjoy softness.  Some lots of simple hard-edged forms.  Calm.  Hyperactive texture.  The list goes on and on.  The list of design elements and principles is our list of ingredients and how we put them all together makes each and every painting recipe a bit different. 

For Christmas, I was given the complete works of Van Gogh.  This book is so heavy that I have to use a pillow on my lap for support....I simply couldn't lift it in order to have a close look.  It really is like holding a child. Van Gogh paints the same subject again and again, each different yet the same.  They are all his.

Maybe we worry too much about self-definition.  Maybe all of our paintings are valid.  I wanna be like Van Gogh......excepting that ear thing.