I
Interesting week, interesting month. I haven't touched pastel to paper or paint to canvas in so long, seems like I'm waking from a bad dream. I needed to get back to my first love. So earlier this month, I pulled completed, signed work off drawing boards and a few days later, put up new paper. The wonderful thing about this process is that there isn't a fixed idea in my head, and unlike the angst of a college freshman, I don't worry about what will be rendered; I go with the flow. This is new paper from a drawing pad my wife gave me for Christmas. It's not the expensive sanded pastel paper at $56 for a pad of 12 x 18, or premium charcoal paper. It's the type given as a gift to aspiring young artists who need a white surface to practice their craft. But I've used paper like this before and learned very quickly that quality is what you make of it.
One Thursday, taking a day off and having completed most of my chores and errands, I carved out time for this new surface. I popped open my case of pastels and let flow. I have plenty of work surrounding me, my work reminds me of the colors I love to use and the way I like to blend them. But I started off with the intent of testing the paper's durability and ability to reflect colors. Each stroke rendered, with laboratory precision, measuring absorption, reflection and my own reaction.
The one thing I love about my creative process is it feels like a journey to an unexplored country. Each step, via each stroke, steps across a lush garden of flora and fauna practically unknown.
I'm not one to spend too much time 'enjoying' myself - call it a result of adult responsibilities - and I was done in little or no time. But there's a balance of moments of joy and pain, and not necessarily an even balance. Journaling is part of my morning routine, and this week, Tuesday, I wanted to break away from the norm. My work surrounds me, both visual and written, so sitting in this space is good for my soul. But time is always ticking...with a few minutes, I picked up a deep blue to give the work in progress, depth. And it was on; in a few minutes, I made a journey into my favorite world.
Trying not to make this long and boring, so I'm cutting to the chase, the balance of Joy and Pain. Thursday morning, at 3:30 am, it's raining buckets. The basement living area is prepared for the worst, anything that's normally on the floor is up and out of the path of water. I'm writing, journaling and preparing for gym time. Drip...drip, drip...the sound is coming from the bathroom on the other side of my office. Scramble to the garage, grab the shop vac and prepare for battle. The next 12 hours are spent praying, baling water and cleaning. Work day, canceled. Daily commute, on hold. It's an emergency, and I'm on emergency preparedness mode. I would like to say I handled the situation like a pro, but when it's your space, your stuff, no matter how prepared you are, emotions are running high. By the time 8:00 pm came around, the floors were cleaned, drying and the my energy drained.
During this time, while the rain poured and the reflection of water danced off the ceiling of the basement, I looked in the distance at my latest 'experiment' on the drawing board, sitting on the easel in my room. In that moment, its reflection outshone the misery of the day. In those seconds, the sense of beauty that comes from my soul made sense. And in that moment, my life's work made sense.
Saturday, April 20, 2013
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Pure Joy...When I Grow Up
One of my favorite lines, one that fits me personally is from a Michael Franks song: "In the Yellow House," the opening line: "No one knows the joy, when you create, by definition, something out of nothing..." What one does not comprehend, until you contemplate your life from another vantage point, is the unique shape and form of it. Aspects of your character, likes and dislikes, and the individual parts that fit and do not; they are all part of a whole.
I'm still growing. Each day is an opportunity to shape and reshape my life to be what I and God desire it to be. There are many expressions and points by which I connect with this world, but the longer I live, the more I realize I don't fit into the 'average American' mold. I labor at software testing, I'm a parent and husband, but there is a vital part of me that remains formless and nearly untapped.
"No one knows the joy, when you create, by definition, something out of nothing..." Another world exists in the moments I spend with a paintbrush in hand, in front of a canvas. When I sit with pencil poised above paper, I'm at my highest joy and it does not require chemical stimulation or have terrible 'after-effects.' When I grow up, I want this aspect of living to fill my days and the joy to be known to all. My Pure Joy...when I create...
I'm still growing. Each day is an opportunity to shape and reshape my life to be what I and God desire it to be. There are many expressions and points by which I connect with this world, but the longer I live, the more I realize I don't fit into the 'average American' mold. I labor at software testing, I'm a parent and husband, but there is a vital part of me that remains formless and nearly untapped.
"No one knows the joy, when you create, by definition, something out of nothing..." Another world exists in the moments I spend with a paintbrush in hand, in front of a canvas. When I sit with pencil poised above paper, I'm at my highest joy and it does not require chemical stimulation or have terrible 'after-effects.' When I grow up, I want this aspect of living to fill my days and the joy to be known to all. My Pure Joy...when I create...
Sunday, September 2, 2012
A Moment...
A snippet from Portrait of the Artist Gaining insight |
A pleasant dream
With a cozy ending
Followed by a gentle stirring
As you awake to a sunny day
You stretch
Smile
Full of energy from your mind’s
movie
But as your feet touch the floor
The haunting of the same old
grind
The car that won’t start
The….
And the….
Plus the…
Send that dream down the drain
Taking with it the joy you felt
A moment
Passes in a minute
Some are lost
‘Cause we are looking in the
wrong place
Others
Get called up to remind us
Caution us
Warm our hearts
Or stop our tracks
And somehow
Someway
They are lost
Brushed away like pesky flies
When we choose to focus on
The here and now
The “never will be”
And the lost happenstance
Sunday, August 26, 2012
The Potency of...The Blank Page
I sit,
Watching the blank page
And its vast starkness tell stories.
Images take shape
Men fight their way through
battles,
Swords slashing and hacking
Women love deeply
And embrace
As though giving away breath from
their lungs.
In this ‘emptiness’ there are words
Some spoken below a whisper
Yet their power is felt by the soul
Stories pour from a space that seems
to contain nothing
Yet there is so much there
It can be misunderstood or misread as
writer’s block, or Artist’s cramp.
Yet it is there,
Dancing,
Active,
Waiting for you to peel back the
white and reveal the flesh beneath.
Take an adventure with me as we
push past the mundanity of our lives,
Let’s go where children are purposely
conceived and planned for,
A place where a walk through
meadows green is a journey to discover secrets.
Let’s go to a place where one’s
name is rarely told because words are powerful and revealing a name is akin to
revealing one’s soul.
Leave the land where pages are for
numbers and the reporting of what we know already.
Mount your imaginations and let’s
go!
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Mindfulness...or something else
Sometimes, most times...it simply flows. There is no concept or preconceived notion. Though it seems to begin with a line on paper or brush stroke on canvas, really the 'idea' begins in my head.
There is a flow of consciousness, from one piece to another. Though they may seem to separate, they are all a part of a whole, a life of sharing my vision.
There is a flow of consciousness, from one piece to another. Though they may seem to separate, they are all a part of a whole, a life of sharing my vision.
Sunday, August 12, 2012
Being Me...
"Soft" and "Firm"
Pillows behind my head
An elbow
Bicep
And
Forearm
Shape behind my head and shoulder
Practice
And Age
Determine my comfort
Comfort
And experience
My steps guide
Learning
An exercise
To my practiced wings
Flying further up
Where winds rule
Where the weak are tossed down
Didn't know this was my life
Covered over with dust and despair
But the King's heart beat
Beneath my cross section of bones
Beat a rhythm
"Live"
"Be"
So as cobwebs dust my head and face
I stretch my arms
Up where youth
And age
Play like brothers
growing
Gathering
Being...me
Pillows behind my head
An elbow
Bicep
And
Forearm
Shape behind my head and shoulder
Practice
And Age
Determine my comfort
Comfort
And experience
My steps guide
Learning
An exercise
To my practiced wings
Flying further up
Where winds rule
Where the weak are tossed down
Didn't know this was my life
Covered over with dust and despair
But the King's heart beat
Beneath my cross section of bones
Beat a rhythm
"Live"
"Be"
So as cobwebs dust my head and face
I stretch my arms
Up where youth
And age
Play like brothers
growing
Gathering
Being...me
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