My friend, Sharon Weaver, is really a marvelous artist. (www.SharonWeaver.com) She recently won first prize in The Valley Artists Guild show, for a stunning studio piece featuring the Monterey coastline. When I congratulated her on the win, she told me the story of how when she had been working on this winning piece, she had become so frustrated that she actually put her brush right through the canvas, ruining both brush and canvas. What followed, though, was something she regarded as a "breakthrough" in her painting, and her new approach was noticed and honored by the juror.
Maybe it's important to allow our frustration to surface once in a while... I'm not advocating we regularly destroy our tools, but I think my friend, who's normally quite refined and self controlled, just hit a "wall" that she had to tear down, and needed to do something symbolic in order to accomplish that.
This wouldn't be the kind of thing you could ever plan or stage: that wouldn't be authentic or help anyone to grow. But if we were to be more aware of our own frustration creeping in, and maybe give it a little bit of space; if we were look our frustration squarely in the eye when it occurred, instead of bulldozing right over it, perhaps we would understand and learn and be able to allow "breakthrough" moments of our own.
November 1, 2010
October 8, 2010
Maintaining the Awe
I recently heard noted plein air painter Tim Solliday say: "Painting is a combination of physics and poetry." That's a great way to put it. Paul Cezanne said "A work of art which did not begin in emotion is not art. Emotion is the starting point, the beginning and the end. Craftsmanship and technique are in the middle."
I'm beginning to sense the importance of maintaining the poetry, the awe, throughout the process. I feel like it may be pretty common for painters to start out full of poetry, creating something fresh and alive with emotional energy, but somewhere in the process when we become more focused on technique, perhaps trying to push ourselves when we're also a little tired/hungry, it's easy to loose hold of our emotion/poetry for the piece, and the work loses its luster. Ever had that happen to you?
In other art forms, artists are able to "undo" muddled work and get back to the fresh part, but it's not that easy in painting... I'm going to try and be more conscious of this in the future; to step back and take my own emotional pulse now and then, as I'm working, and recharge as needed.
I'm beginning to sense the importance of maintaining the poetry, the awe, throughout the process. I feel like it may be pretty common for painters to start out full of poetry, creating something fresh and alive with emotional energy, but somewhere in the process when we become more focused on technique, perhaps trying to push ourselves when we're also a little tired/hungry, it's easy to loose hold of our emotion/poetry for the piece, and the work loses its luster. Ever had that happen to you?
In other art forms, artists are able to "undo" muddled work and get back to the fresh part, but it's not that easy in painting... I'm going to try and be more conscious of this in the future; to step back and take my own emotional pulse now and then, as I'm working, and recharge as needed.
October 5, 2010
Uncommon Bonds of Inspiration
That which truly inspires us as artists is as unique and spiritual as our innermost thoughts, perceptions and being. As artists, we are probably more intensely aware of our individuality than the average person; we learn quite young that the creation of art is a solo journey. The fortunate among us are able to surround ourselves with support networks of love and encouragement from family and friends: this alone is an uncommon gift.
How very rare and precious it is, though, to find people whose inspiration actually springs from a well quite similar to our own. On my recent expedition to the Channel Islands National Park with a group of fellow plein-air painters, I was blessed to find this rare depth of simpatico, and am much richer a human being and artist for it.
With the traveling companionship of my family or friends, I’m usually the one calling attention to the magnificence of the scenery, its myriad colors and forms… a duty I take quite seriously. With the companionship of fellow painters, though, the reaction of AWE was practically a given; almost everybody had that weak-in-the-knees / takes-your-breath-away response to the majesty of that which we were so privleged to witness. This uncommon bond with my fellow artists has profoundly affected me, and will nurture my inspiration, always.
How very rare and precious it is, though, to find people whose inspiration actually springs from a well quite similar to our own. On my recent expedition to the Channel Islands National Park with a group of fellow plein-air painters, I was blessed to find this rare depth of simpatico, and am much richer a human being and artist for it.
With the traveling companionship of my family or friends, I’m usually the one calling attention to the magnificence of the scenery, its myriad colors and forms… a duty I take quite seriously. With the companionship of fellow painters, though, the reaction of AWE was practically a given; almost everybody had that weak-in-the-knees / takes-your-breath-away response to the majesty of that which we were so privleged to witness. This uncommon bond with my fellow artists has profoundly affected me, and will nurture my inspiration, always.
April 15, 2010
TUNING INTO OUR AWE
My quest for inspiration continues, and is intricately entwined with the quest for that which inspires me...
That which inspires is quite unique to the individual: for me it's usually natural scenic beauty that takes my breath away. Usually that comes in the tangible form of 20,000 foot high thunderheads, or mountains of any height, or the color green in its infinite varieties, but our Earth is full of surprises that delight and inspire me. I'll bet you can name the some of the kinds of things that inspire you.
Translating that delight and inspiration into Inspiration during the process of creation, is a matter of enabling ourselves to "tune in" to our awe, thoroughly and completely. It's a delicate balance which enables this. Being overtired or mentally preoccupied, we won't be likely to find the state of inspiration we seek. We must be prepared physically, mentally and spiritually, almost like an athlete is prepared for a game. The mental preparation includes intimate knowledge of our own particular art form.
But, at the moment of real Inspiration, we are completely absorbed by the experience, and no longer so conscious of ourselves, mentally or physically, or the technical aspects of our creative process. I believe that the best creative experiences come from deep within our spiritual realm.
That which inspires is quite unique to the individual: for me it's usually natural scenic beauty that takes my breath away. Usually that comes in the tangible form of 20,000 foot high thunderheads, or mountains of any height, or the color green in its infinite varieties, but our Earth is full of surprises that delight and inspire me. I'll bet you can name the some of the kinds of things that inspire you.
Translating that delight and inspiration into Inspiration during the process of creation, is a matter of enabling ourselves to "tune in" to our awe, thoroughly and completely. It's a delicate balance which enables this. Being overtired or mentally preoccupied, we won't be likely to find the state of inspiration we seek. We must be prepared physically, mentally and spiritually, almost like an athlete is prepared for a game. The mental preparation includes intimate knowledge of our own particular art form.
But, at the moment of real Inspiration, we are completely absorbed by the experience, and no longer so conscious of ourselves, mentally or physically, or the technical aspects of our creative process. I believe that the best creative experiences come from deep within our spiritual realm.
January 21, 2010
SILENCE...
I was just thinking about silence.... and how utterly blissful it can be. It is wonderfully fertile soil for the creative imagination, and quite rare and valuable when you think about our "culture" of televisions, white earbuds, leaf blowers and dogs barking... Ah ha: no wonder... it's been raining for five days here in Southern California, and I've barely heard a leaf blower. I could get used to this.
Usually, when I "work" at my art, I play music. Jazz is most inspiring to me, but I'm eclectic. Perhaps, I will try and create a little more silence in my studio, and see how that goes. I'll get back to you....
Usually, when I "work" at my art, I play music. Jazz is most inspiring to me, but I'm eclectic. Perhaps, I will try and create a little more silence in my studio, and see how that goes. I'll get back to you....
January 20, 2010
TRANSFORMING OUR PERCEPTION
I came across a wonderful article entitled "What Allows Creativity to happen?" by Kent Meyers, on a website called "Prairie Wind Writer." He's a creative writing instructor who has addressed the subject very eloquently in this piece, first, by citing a moving personal anecdote, self described as "one of the most powerful creative moments of [his] life." * He feels like creativity is always kind of a miracle, and I would certainly echo his awe.
Mr. Meyers says also that the magnitude of a sudden creative transformation is difficult to describe. So true. One minute, you're up to your elbows in the nuts and bolts of a project, and the next, you have an utterly complete, crystal clear vision of how it should be... He describes it as a kind of perceptual change, and believes that in order for this transformation to occur, you must first be thoroughly absorbed in a project.
If we commit ourselves to the seed of an idea; if we really and truly involve ourselves with it, it will germinate and bud and leaf and branch into a full fledged miracle not unlike a tree.
Meyers also says that "Creativity by its very nature is inefficient: we are working at discovering new patterns of thought and perception. If we knew an efficient road to them, there would be no discovery." * He says we need to allow ourselves an inefficient space in which to create.
I've only scratched the surface of this brilliant, insightful article. I hope you'll take the time to read it, if not now, bookmark it for later. Here's the link: http://prairiewindswriter.org/content/resources/articles/creativity.htm
Mr. Meyers says also that the magnitude of a sudden creative transformation is difficult to describe. So true. One minute, you're up to your elbows in the nuts and bolts of a project, and the next, you have an utterly complete, crystal clear vision of how it should be... He describes it as a kind of perceptual change, and believes that in order for this transformation to occur, you must first be thoroughly absorbed in a project.
If we commit ourselves to the seed of an idea; if we really and truly involve ourselves with it, it will germinate and bud and leaf and branch into a full fledged miracle not unlike a tree.
Meyers also says that "Creativity by its very nature is inefficient: we are working at discovering new patterns of thought and perception. If we knew an efficient road to them, there would be no discovery." * He says we need to allow ourselves an inefficient space in which to create.
I've only scratched the surface of this brilliant, insightful article. I hope you'll take the time to read it, if not now, bookmark it for later. Here's the link: http://prairiewindswriter.org/content/resources/articles/creativity.htm
January 15, 2010
POST www: THE CREATIVE PROCESS
The January 18th issue of Newsweek Magazine included a piece by Sharon Begley, entitled, "Your Brain Online"
As an artist, I would have to take issue with her final thought on creativity, which concludes that due to a flood of information, creativity has become a process of “destruction rather than assembly.”
While this may be true about the process of research today, I believe that the truly creative thought process is still based upon the uncommon or unlikely connection of ideas, unrelated to the volume of information through which one must trudge in order to achieve that.
If you get a chance, read the article. It's food for thought. Here's a link to it: http://www.newsweek.com/id/229843
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