Emergence

Last week, the last set of paintings in my Painting 2 class were due. For the project, the class had to build an imaginary landscape and make 4 paintings based on it. At first, I was not at all sure about this project and had no idea what to do. Eventually, I got an idea one night and constructed my diorama of sorts from mat board triangles and yarn.
Last week, as I had only the week to finish them, I had to put several hours in to get the paintings done. Consequently, this resulted in few hours of sleep and a bit of mental and physical strain as I was also winding down for all of my other classes and working at my job as well. So anyway, night after night, I went to the studio right after work to join the rest of my class in our race against time. Though I never really wanted to go and work on these paintings hour after hour, there was something invigorating and stimulating about it. I was learning to paint quickly and to see beyond the surface. Multiple colors resided in one color and shadows came to life and took on a vibrancy I greatly desired to captivate and translate accurately but not necessarily realistically. I grew tired and sometimes had to stop prematurely but tried to apply equal investment to every portion of each painting so that it was at least balanced in its shortcomings.
I finally finished. I set the paintings alongside one another for a final personal analyzation before the in-class critique. As I viewed the works all splayed out together, I noticed a bit of an emergence in my paintings, an evolving per say, in which I was finding my way to understanding the subject and the matter. Albeit, one can never be done learning as long as one seeks to do so, but I found that somewhere in the midst of all that seeing and painting, rushing and not thinking, it started to make sense. There was a beauty in it all that I never would have seen perhaps, had I not worked and reworked the same setup from different angles. I was learning to look and find while actively doing. Even though my works are no masterpieces by any stretch of the imagination they contained something much more wonderful than a prestigious title or appraisal. They contained me.

Clouds and Light

A beautiful sky. My friend Anna and I were on our way back to campus from a long weekend. It had been raining and cloudy earlier in the weekend and the sun finally decided to shine on North Carolina once again. We were driving out of a blanketed sky into a clear warm sunset. The clouds simply fascinated me with their brilliant blue, purple, and pink hues reflecting the luminous white, yellow sun. The texture was breathtaking. It was like an upside down mountainous landscape, thick and craggy, uneven. I loved our perspective from the open highway, all these cars headed towards the light, out of the darkness. I couldnt help but thank God for the captivating beauty in something so commonplace as clouds in the sky and the sunset. But everyday is something new and no one will ever be repeated. I also took a picture showing a silhouette of trees against the clear half of the sky. To have captured that moment though it never really ended was something I felt thankful for. The earth, the trees, the sky, the clouds, and the light that points out the distinctiveness of every existing form.

Simply Complicated

Sometimes the simplest objects can be the most complicated things to understand. I am sure that I am not the only person who has pondered over a leaf or a fluffy white cloud, or even water, and been totally floored and amazed. Looking at them is one thing, but can we ever really SEE them for what they are? Can we understand them in their entirety? Take something as plain, though necessary and delicious, as a cup of coffee. A few of my friends and I were out at IHOP last night and I ordered coffee as my beverage of choice. I poured a bit of creamer into the dark beverage and was intrigued at how the milky white cream swirled and diffused into the coffee creating a warm caramel color. It was amazing. How can one perceive something so simply and common-place yet so beautiful and intricate?

Consequently, this leads me to wonder how in the world can someone draw a tangible, perceivable object so that it is believable and true to nature, while simultaneously adding their own signature and style? I am in the very early stages as an artist and have yet to discover many of the infinite mysteries and secrets of drawing. At some point, it will be clearer to me and my eyes will see past the surface and my hands will trace the form; the drawing will speak for itself telling the viewer not only what it is a representation of, but who the artist is and why she used this stroke this way or that swerve that way. A cup of coffee will not only be a hot robust beverage, good to the last drop, but a work of art that baffles the mind and stimulates the artist.

On Art: Drawing

In Intermediate Drawing, we have been discussing Line; what it is, how it works, and the like. So far, we have experimented with contour line drawings and gesture drawings. Now I am certainly no expert on drawing and the use of line; however, I am finding that there is no level at which one has "perfected the line" per say. As the blog is titled "I am never done with looking", so it is with anything pertaining to art. As long as there is more to see, there is more to translate, and to transfer from one world to the next: from the literal world, to the imagined, to the created.

I am finding that drawing is like a river; it is endless and always leads to something much greater. But what is it that I am aspiring to through drawing? Do I do it so that one day I'll be famous? to understand it better? for kicks? Or maybe I simply find it essential to my own understanding of the world around me. Maybe, it brings clarity, broadens my horizons, and opens doors to worlds I'd never dreamed of. Maybe it's all of the above. As I stated previously; it is like a river. There is no end and a beginning is debatable.

Drawing and the techniques in drawing can tell alot about the subject and the artist alike; what they saw, how they saw it, what they want the viewer to see and gather from it. What I will learn myself, I am not quite sure. I'm still looking.

one begins
with a single stroke

do not lift
see where it leads you

down a river
or dark alley

a surge of emotion
sorrow and elation

a face
a mother
a friend
a soul

only the line will tell