January 22, 2010

Takes a licking and keeps on ticking...



It occurred to me somewhere between last night and this morning, that the brown, club foot/sock puppet/horse on a stick figure should be more one or the other. Maybe, maybe not. I know it's a tough photo, but since it's still in progress, I've placed it on the easel to give it that toiled in the studio look. I think I've been painting on the floor or the wall for the most part.

Okay, here's a less distracted view:


I am enjoying this painting quite a bit. Regrettably, (or not) it's on a store bought canvas. Some people could give a rat's ass if it's on a store-bought, after all it IS the painting itself that matters. Other people place a great deal of emphasis on the superficial construct of surface prep. I'm an any port in a storm kind of painter, so it depends on my agenda. Having only picked up this dirty habit of buying store-boughts in the last few years, I will say that it gives me the freedom and spontaneity that I sometimes need to make messy paintings, without worrying about placing an order, figuring out how many I can afford at one time, or what a precious surface I have to start with. I mean, under pressure I can wreck any surface in a day's time, but I get down to business with store-boughts. No fetishizing the fruits of hand-crafted labor for me.

Fresh flowers last 3 weeks in my studio, thanks in part to it being somewhat (I bet it gets down to at least 30-something) of an icebox in the winter. New flowers went in today. Some pink things. Getting geared up for you-know-what in a couple of 3 weeks.

More importantly, I'm loving how I am shape-shifting emotions using a simple bouquet of flowers from Trader Joe's. Beginning with February of 2009, (almost a year ago) I believe I now have the most linear and narrative body of work I've ever done- and this includes the small abstracts. Initially, it may look like a three different directions, (abstract, pool, flowers) but no. It's a cohesive linear narrative. Cut and dry. Today's bouquet sealed the deal.

***
Weather report: wet. soggy. My studio leaks (not too bad with the sandbags). My car leaks very badly. And today in yoga class, I and only I, managed to place my mat under the only leak in the room. I discovered this in shavanasa. I almost laughed. When I got home, Fang had puked just inside the door. mmmm.

I am ready for sunny dry stuff again.

The Art Fairs are in town starting this week....

image: lifted from the LA Artshow website

5 comments:

Carla said...

I like the sock-puppet-horsehead. It's ludicrous in it's flatness, yet still managing to make that nudging gesture.

I like this painting, and congratulations on having a linear group. That's exciting, especially as you've gone about it in real issue time, and not by a formulaic process.

Carla said...

Though a formulaic process can lead to unexpected discoveries, it's just so often used to make cohesive product.

M.A.H. said...

Thanks. The sock puppet horse head is a good example of things I question in the, if it's broke, don't fix it category. My gut instinct is to leave it.

Since beginning the first small paintings back last Feb, I've been thinking about them like chapters. (Each painting is like the title page of a book chapter.) I just figured when I became involved in the pools and flowers, that perhaps it was like a different book, but realized no, it's still about how my life progressed day by day last year in dealing with stuff. Ending a marriage was more abstract. My mom's memory loss, and my relationship and identity to that manifested itself with more tangible elements. With the purchase of February's floral bouquet, there was a moment of recognition, like oh, maybe it's a new chapter, but I can still use the same language.

The chapter thing is not something I think about literally while painting- just when looking at the whole and comparing it to previous work which I thought of as non-linear narrative.

M.A.H. said...

^ Maybe that was too much information.

Carla said...

Certainly it's welcome information. I go back and forth between wanting to allow a personal connection with my work, and wanting to purge free from such involvement. This swing seems to grow less and less dramatic though.

It's over.

Nov 7, 2020. Tears of joy and relief. It's been unreal and I'm ready to get back to a sense of normalcy. The desert has been tough.