Winter Contemplative

The studio below freezing.

Tracks and shadows.

Tracks and shadows.

Flowering currant prunings.

Moss and snow, flat light.

Snow erosion.

Ditch melt.

I am working hard. Sticking to routine and watching the mad parade of life as it passes around me. It's been snowy for what seems like forever and I have been fascinated by changes in the light conditions that accompany it. The thick cloud to no cloud and low sun getting higher. The snow is such a material change, sometime in February I wrote in my journal that I was distracted by the snow. The sparkle of it. It's a mercy in the winter around here because of the added reflected light, even on a dull day there are the most interesting light effects in the presence of snow. It's all melting now and getting worn away day after day as the temperatures rise and fall.

An artist I know began posting what she called snow drawings and that encouraged me to share the photos I had been taking of the changes in the snow and the "drawings" that are created.

Permission to Contemplate

I looked at my desk this morning
and recognized it as the the state of my mind
a topography built of notes and books
all the things, all the lists
the geography of an enthusiastic brain.

Summer is almost over
I didn't do exactly what I imagined I might but I did ok
I must remember that. I did ok.
I gave myself permission to contemplate.

Today I moved 3 spider egg sacks
into a shallow divot on a birch trunk,
I hope they survive.
On my walk
I saw a turkey vulture eating a possum
I didn't blame it.
I wanted to move a dead squirrel to the side
of the road but the stick I found
to do the job was insufficient
So I left it alone.
Sometimes that's the best approach.

I read a lot about drawing this summer
And I looked at a lot of art, just
found or suggested by my brethren
and then I thought deeply about all of it.

Weekends spent cavorting
again I'm reminded that working
is my best thing.
Collect up the stack of papers and
move something along
sew on a button if it's all I can manage
look at the thread and think
how it is just a line.

Sketch 1, Cocoon RMS

I put pencil to paper
and things appear in the once blank space
it is magic to be sure.


I found these things online which have informed me
Garry Barker, Drawing Blog
Drawing Now, Bernice Rose 1975
and her 1992 essay "Allegories of Modernism"

I just finished reading "Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind"
and now I am onto "Carr, O'Keefe, Kahlo: Places of their Own"

Summer Plans

Some friends bought a little castle on the Sunshine Coast so we went and paid them a visit earlier this month. We helped to hack and hew around the place to clean up the debris from last winter's storms, and the previous owner. It's incredible what volume of stuff humans can accumulate. The place is sweet and it was really special to share this time with good friends who are embarking on a new adventure. We hiked up to their local lake and I plunged myself in and paddled about. Luna joined me briefly. It was my first swim of the summer season.

Mark and the fire at twilight.

Writing my morning pages in the sun with the castle nearby. Without meeting him, I think I like the mind of the person who had this property last. He surely left his mark on it, not just in the building but in the many trees planted around the place.

Someone asked me what my summer plans were back in June and at the time I had nothing very concrete to say. Beyond the usual trailer meets and camping trips here and there. I like to stay close to home in the summer as it is the best time of year in the PNW, when the sun finally shines and you can live outside. We visit nearby Vancouver and sail the little boat we keep there. Some summers we meet up with family from the south but not this year. So there is a lot to do even without big plans.

Since that question was posed and in an effort to move my art practice along I have decided to reclaim my little barn to use as a drawing space until fall comes. I have been de-ratting it and generally clearing it up all the while thinking about mark-making. I have painted the inside so far and it feels better already. Often I have dreamt of a house where I suddenly discovered several unused rooms and I think this represents the innate knowledge of my own potential which I keep sort of closed up and away from public view, often forgetting that it exists at all. At the moment the whole 5 acres feels like a potential canvas for expression.

Layering

Painting detail 5/25/12

Last Thursday I burned the red beans I was cooking while a man was rumored to be holding his family hostage a few miles from my house. I imagined at gun-point. On Friday with my skin still smelling of the burned beans I melted down and spent the weekend puffy-eyed and pale while my family simultaneously stroked my hair and avoided me. As scary as my mood swings are to me they must be terrifying to those around me. On Sunday I confided to my dad that I had been having a rough week. He has these rough patches too, we all do. On the bright side I did not hurt myself or take anyone hostage, and after a few rounds of Bananagrams Friday night we were able to laugh about the debacle of the day, the misunderstandings, and I think we may have all experienced teachable moments. I slept so hard that night that I didn't know where I was and on Saturday morning when I visited my stepmother and suddenly found myself trying to hack up a lung like I had TB, my stepmother who is struggling to get her words organized easily uttered "pollen". I agreed because it felt too hard to say no, it's a chunk of grief passing through me, but I feel certain I am going to be okay.

During my painting class on Friday I could feel myself relaxing into the work. The technique seen here involves creating a quick and simple gestural layer followed by subsequent layers of warm and cool colors all applied with tons of water. It's pure magic watching the image emerge.

Drawing from Life

Detail from 5/22/12 

Had my second life drawing meeting at UFO Studios yesterday, my drawings were nothing short of awful. Today I spent some time looking at David Hockney's early work and felt better about everything. The woman who hosts the class has a very predictable style which is slightly intimidating to someone just coming in to the group. I remind myself that she draws everyday. my skills might improve if I drew a bit each day, who knows. The interesting thing to me is the pleasure I get from drawing, even badly and how much I like some aspects of what I have put down on the paper. The host announced a "Drawing Pathologies" class where they look at the hidden meanings in your work based on your approach. I am not sure I will attend but I have an idea what my strokes might indicate. Each drawing is very different suggesting an absence of attachment, the bodies are out of proportion which could indicate my lack of knowledge of my own form and finally the filled in backgrounds might mirror how interested I am in knowing what someones back story is. This might not be fodder for a good draftswoman, maybe they are better skills for a party planner. At any rate I am struggling a little at the moment and going to these classes takes my mind off things. It's cheaper than therapy and honestly I am not that interested in sitting in someone's office weeping about it all. I'd much rather have a quick cry in the car on the way to class and then go make a mess quietly in a group of strangers who are devotees of the instructor and barely pay attention to me. I know what my problems are, I know what I need more of and less of. The hardest part is when my anxiety gets me pinned and I feel like the only way out is so final. The feelings pass but being held down by the black mass is frightening in the moment because it feels like my normal life will never return, it's hard to not want to do something, anything to make it all stop. In those moments I have to tell myself, this too shall pass. This too shall pass, and it generally does.