Anticipation

Anticipation

15 x 15

pastel on BFK

With the sound of the surf beckoning me, I stand at the top of the path and pause for just a moment. Wet salty air blows through my clothes and hair and I feel the reassurance that I am back.

The beach always does that to me.

About 30 more steps and I will be at the top of the dune, overlooking the grandeur of the Pacific Ocean. I will walk on the sand and feel my perspective shift in the solemn face of tide and vastness of water. I will write my troubles on the sand and watch as they are erased by rushing waves.

But for this moment, it is all about anticipation.

I wonder what would happen if ...

Prideaux Haven
15 x 15
pastel on BFK

These are the words I speak aloud when I step over the threshold to my studio. I wonder what would happen if ...

"The greatest achievement was at first and for a time a dream.
The oak sleeps in the acorn; the bird waits in the egg;
and in the highest vision of the soul a waking angel stirs."
William James

Search for beauty

"Beauty comes from giving personal expression to deep currents within us."

Ian Roberts in Creative Authenticity

I have changed this post since I first put it up earlier this afternoon. Kitty Wallis sent me an insightful email in which she helped me focus again on what I am doing here in the studio. Thank you, Kitty, for taking the time to read and inquire and comment and communicate! I appreciate you so much!

In the photo above you can see some of the explorations I have done in the last few days. Taking those simple shapes from my color sketches and notan and feeling my way around them. Some are better than others. Some are really awful. One or two are ready for frames. If they were all good, I would know that I am not pushing hard enough, exploring deep enough, lifting and reaching beyond what I know to what I am trying to know.

This is a part of my search for beauty.

In my own mind, beauty is imperfect, and unapologetic about it. Beauty is honest without cruelty. Beauty is compelling. Transcendent. And utterly irresistible.

Spencer Spit and all that jazz

today's painting
Spencer Spit
8 x 8
pastel on BFK

February 21 painting

Using the same basic shapes, I painted Spencer Spit again but with a different palette. Theme and variations. I love stuff like this!

Painting like this, painting many variations of a basic design is a lot like playing jazz with a band. You usually start out with something that's pretty straight and the melody or tune is obvious. Then, you hand it off to the saxophone player and he stretches and bends things around. The rest of the band keeps playing the structure, the chords underneath the solo, but the sax, well, he wails! If he's hot, he may take it an extra time around, another 16 bars or so. All of the other musicians nod their heads and can't keep the goofy grins off their faces because it's so amazing to be a part of that sound!

When the trumpet takes it, well, if he's good, he will pull your heart out of your chest, blow on it twice, and throw it back before you know what's happened.

With these paintings, so far it's still pretty straight and the melody sits on top of the rhythm like a good horseman. But I can hear the future and it's calling me to jam.

Depth of the soul

"Our painting will only be as deep as the depth we uncover in ourselves."
Ian Roberts in Creative Authenticity

I had just played Chopin's Nocturne 20 in a Master Class for Dr. Bela Nagy. When I finished, I could hear the sound of pages turning in the auditorium. Others in the class brought their scores to follow along as I played and to write down Dr Nagy's comments (to me) on their own music.

"Fine," he said. "Now, tell me what were you thinking while you played?"

"Thinking?" I faltered. "I guess I was thinking of the notes and trying not to be distracted by sounds in the audience. I was thinking that for once my palms weren't sweating while playing for you and I was hoping I wouldn't make bumbles on the runs at the end."

As I spoke, Dr. Nagy shook his large head at me, so that his shock of gray hair fell over his forehead. He forced it back with an impatient raking motion.

"No!" He nearly shouted. "No! No! No! These are the very things you must NOT think of when you play the Chopin." His thick Hungarian accent was more pronounced when he spoke with passion, as he did then. "You must reach inside yourself and feel the cold winter night. You must reach inside and feel the sad longing for a lover who has left you. Maybe forever. But, maybe not," he raised one eyebrow and then quickly winked. "This is how you play. More than the notes. You play your soul."

And with that, he opened the lid of the concert grand piano so that it was fully open on its long support, he walked off the stage, sat down, and swept his arm in a gesture for me to begin.

I was about to start when he jumped up, "Wait! Wait!" I put my hands in my lap and drew in a deep breath. "You, " he said, pointing to those sitting in the auditorium. "Put away your music. All of you. Away. Away! Do not open it! And close your eyes and listen." There followed a low murmuring and rustling as they complied. When all was silent, I began. Again.

Tears streamed from my eyes as I played the second time. By the time I finished, I was nearly sobbing. Dr Nagy came up to the stage and held me in a long embrace while the audience stood and clapped and clapped and wept.

Remembering Lopez Island

Spencer Spit
10 x 10
pastel on BFK

Analogous palette

analogous color design
10 x 10
pastel on BFK


Kingfisher and Egret

Same shapes in the painting, different colors. While both yesterday and today's paintings feel serene, today's painting feels much more quiet.

Sunshine early in the day compelled me to the refuge. I was thrilled to see the Kingfisher (typically a jittery, chittering, quick flying bird, this guy stayed perched long enough for me to catch him with this photo). I watched the Egret catch a vole and swallow it whole just before I took the photograph. Life is always good and abundant at the Refuge!

Remembering sunrise at Oak Harbor

10 x 10
pastel on BFK

Real time beats too fast a tempo at 60.

But in my memory, I can pull out the moment and stretch the time to a sweet rubato. Tender and lazy. On this winter day I can taste this early summer morning and feel its juice run down my chin as I take a big bite.

Wandering but not lost

10 x 10
pastel on BFK

2 x 2
watercolor sketch

a full sheet of watercolor sketches

The bottom photo shows a brainstorm I had this week. What would happen if I took five simple landscape sketches and blocked them in with color in a variety of combinations? It was easy to create the grid for the sketches with 1/8" artist tape on a full sheet of watercolor paper.

Each color and value combination urged me on to try something else. What a rush!

Since then, I've looked at the sketches to see which excited me, which colors appealed to me, which shapes seemed to generate my energy and interest. I selected the sketch seen in the middle photo and made that one into the larger pastel piece you see in the top photo.

From Notan to watercolor sketch to pastel painting. Another way home. Not all who wander are lost, they might just be seeking a new path. And, for some reason, that reminds me of music (of course) and a nice hike I had last summer in Ketchikan, AK, called "Married Man's Trail." Most definitely the long way home.

Figures

Figures on newsprint with ink and charcoal and marker.