Monday, March 3, 2014

more grousing

I have no direction, and consequently I am pulled in all directions: one minute coveting the scumbled texture of an ancient earthen wall, the next minute mentally mixing the perfect pale peach to match the scales of the koi fish I just saw. 

Pale peach, white, a splotch of black -- how can that fish be a master of composition and I cannot?

I start paintings with one thing in mind, and half-way through I change that mind, inspired by something completely different. I want Kozuki's bold fields of color, Ruth's bright brushstrokes, Tomoya's soft daubs, Karina's geometry. Larry Rivers' acuity.

I am part chameleon, part charlatan.

Meanwhile, I have nothing conclusive to say. It's just a jumble of pieces in there, a human kaleidoscope: reflecting the accumluation of potentially usable bits, the tinest shift changes the entire scene.

 I had a dream once that I was hanging my art for a show, and all the pieces were these awful, muddy, lumpy figure studies. I started to panic -- where is my REAL work? Will I know it when I see it?

It keeps escaping me, that thing I'm trying to do, yearning to do. Reaching with my whole elastic brain and don't even know what question I'm asking.



Anonymous said...

Ooh, that second one is very sweet. Jan

andrea said...

So beautiful! I miss you! :) x o x o