Catching the Beat

“She/he walks to the beat of a different drum.”  Throughout my years that phrase has meant a variety of things.  It stood for “She’s a little weird” in my youth.  As in doesn’t fit in, fit the mold, isn’t like us.  Later it became “He isn’t a team player.  Doesn’t do community well. Won’t join in.”  Years later I find that the phrase has morphed from a negative to a positive as I am more deeply ensconced in the art world.

I am working to catch the beat of my own drum.  Seeking that which sets me apart.  The thing about this quest is how difficult it can be to hear the sound and catch the beat of the drum that says “ME”.  The competition for my ear and heart is overwhelming.  Mundane tasks at hand derail my commitment to create.   The business of art distracts from the creating of art.

Even in the creative arena voices compete.  Do I follow the voice that reminds me of what is selling around me?  Do I listen when I hear myself speak of what images I paint that have sold well?  Do I incorporate some or all of the ideas explored at the workshop on Sunday?  Do I pursue ideas presented by colleagues, customers, friends and family?

I feel a little like the chick in P.D. Eastman’s book “Are you my Mother?”  asking every creative idea that passes through my brain, “Are you my drum?  Is this the beat I walk to?”  In the story, if the chick had simply stayed in the nest, he would have met his mother as she returned with his breakfast.   The moral of the story for me is to stay the creative course I am on ( currently in the middle of a large painting).

This is not a quest of the mind, but of the heart.  I cannot reason my beat into existence.  The only beat I need to listen to is the beat of my spirit and heart, confident that it will whisper “This is the way, walk in it” as I sit at my easel,  work at my table, or stare into space.  That requires quieting my mind and allowing my heart to speak.

It is a challenge worthy of my effort.

 

 

Who Knows Where

I recently returned from an art festival in Louisville where I have previously shown with success.  Not so this year.  Not one sale.  Zip. Zero. Nada.  I left the show thinking “I could have had so much more fun with the $600 I just spent to be here!”  The experience left me pondering.  If I look to financial success to define the weekend it will always and forever be an abysmal failure.  However (you knew that was coming)…

If I look to the results of the show I will be left with a different view point.  The results:  a decision to pursue different types of shows and festivals, a confidence to know it wasn’t about the quality of the art I create, a confirmation to be intentional with my pursuit of honing my craft and developing my personal style, a sensitivity to the art festival market, a beginning of a 5-10 year plan that might take my art out of the outdoor festival model.

Armed with a different perspective, Louisville will never be a failure.  It will be a turning point.  The ah-ha weekend.  The starting line of the next leg of this adventure I call life. ” Failure” is only the end of the line if I allow it to be.  I vote for allowing it to be a catalyst to a creative problem solving process that will move me forward in my journey.  Not the end, but the beginning of the next step.  Who knows where that step will lead.  The possibilities are endless.  I’m all in.

Elements

“Elements” represents where I’m heading artistically

Pigment, Paper, and Point of View

Photo by Warren Lynn, Indianapolis, IN.

 

I love to watch Food Network Star.  It is a competition among accomplished cooks and chefs to win their own Food Network television show.  The contestants are thrown into numerous situations with varied themes and ingredients.  The challenge is always to create dishes which are then presented to the camera.  All with a short amount of time and all representing their “P.O.V.”.  P.O.V. stands for Point of View.  It is never too far from the producers minds as they judge the food and the presentation.

I am currently on a journey of discovery: to fine tune my own point of view.  In the visual art world we call it artistic voice, but the term point of view just seems more attainable to me right now.  How do I see the world?  How do I then interpret that to the canvas?  Where do I want to take my viewer?  All questions to be pondered along the way.

To further explore who I am artistically, I have purchased new materials and signed up for a couple of workshops outside my area of expertise.  Powdered pigment.  From a cement mixing company.  Interesting stuff.  Can’t wait to dig in, mix it with water, medium, paint, and see what unfolds.

Collage.  “Bring interesting decorative papers…”, the instructor writes.  Don’t have any!  So my exploration really begins before the workshop as I paint my own interesting paper.  Scraps of watercolor paper from a neighboring artist await in the studio stirring my creative juices.

The creative journey may simply be a vacation rather than a move.  I may not evolve into a mixed media artist.  I may come back to my acrylics and painting knife and be thrilled to be home.  Learning what I’m not is a valuable step in solidifying who I am.

Like the brilliant splash of red that a cardinal makes against the pine branches outside my porch, I want to  know what sets me apart.  Like his song that is distinctive and heard above air conditioners and passing traffic I am searching for the point of view that will be recognized as mine alone.  Meanwhile my creative energy is being recharged and I am enjoying my quest.  What have you done to find your artistic voice?  Please share.

No Fear

I love color.  Shades and hues. Values and tints.  Intensity.  Saturation.   This is the vocabulary of my artistic soul.  Light.  Energy.  Prisms. Pigment.  This is the vocabulary of my scientific soul.  Advancing or diminishing.  Highlights or Low lights.  Complimentary, Analogous, Triad .  This is the vocabulary of my theoretical soul. 

One can often hear viewers exclaim “You’re not afraid of color are you?”  as they pass my display at an art festival.  Should I be?  No one told me!  That comment always intrigues me:  fear of color?  Never!  I embrace it.  Experiment with it.  Am emboldened by it. 

Walk into any Pottery Barn or Restoration Hardware however and you will find grayed palettes:  taupe, white, gray, browns, beige, sage green, slate blue, abound.  It’s enough to give an artist addicted to color  an anxiety attack. 

There’s the dilemma of the season:  should I bow to “what’s hot” in the design world in order to sell my work?  A day or two of soul searching has led to the answer:  NO! 

I am a colorist. I know how to use color to express the vision of my heart.  My artistic voice at the moment is rich in hue, bold in choice, and saturated in intensity.  Recently a customer summed it up quite well.  He said, “I have seldom seen so many different colors and such bold colors come together to form such a cohesive and uplifting painting.”  Hurray!

Actually my work plays well with neutral decor.  It is a great POP of color that can be the signature to the room.   Like a pair of diamond earrings for a fabulous dress or a red tie with a dark pinstripe suit a painting adds the “you” to a room. 

When you’re ready to add the jewelry to your room, come see me.  I’m the one with bright paintings on every wall.