A class with Lisa Daria Kennedy
Read MoreStretching
I take a workshop and try to paint large
Live the questions now.
-Rilke
Stretching
I take a workshop and try to paint large
A class with Lisa Daria Kennedy
Read MoreAsk the question
then ask again
Working the problem. Show up. Butt in chair.
Read More56 Intention
These are the first notes I took during a class with Page Pearson last spring. “Each of us is a work in progress.” This month, my daily painting practice has helped me let go. It sets a rhythm to the days. Let go of the news. Let go of cluttered expectations. Just make tea. Paint. Wrestle with the rest later.
Unlike most to-do’s, for me painting brings calm. It creates time to listen. It is about pauses as much as it is about action.
This past week a student of mine died. Painting was a path out of depression for her, a light that renewed her spirit. Her friendship reminds me again to let go of fear, to reach out to others, to do what feels right.
Each opportunity to create is a blessing. Pick something you like and do it. Leave what gets in the way behind.
The time has come
To stop allowing the clutter
To clutter my mind
Like dirty snow,
Shove it off and find
Clear time, clear water.
from “New Year Resolve” by May Sarton, from Collected Poems 1930-1993. © W.W. Norton & Co., 1993.
I discovered the work of Ellen Heck. Her series Colorwheels makes me feel like beginner again. Look at the way she combines structure, color, and abstraction. She pushes the possibilities of limitations. What can we learn from her?
Work within a structure.
Limit your color palette.
Establish a theme, then vary it.
Use repetition to pull the viewer’s eye.
Create structure, then push the possibilities.
Go deep into your idea. Then go deeper.
When you pick colors to work with, ask yourself what possibilities lies among them. Whether you work with paint or collage, how can you mix, veil, intensify?
Painting inherently involves mixing colors. Collage works with pre-toned materials. Either way, you’ll help yourself if you curate your materials before you start. Choose a palette. Focus. Then explore the range of lights and darks, still areas and texture, your colors can create. Create hard edges with contrast, soft edges with similar values.
These past weeks I’ve been painting daily with a palette of 8 colors: a warm and a cool each of yellow, red, and blue, plus magenta and white. Perhaps it is time to limit myself even further. What would flowers look like, painted in neutrals? How to express luminosity with out pure yellow or pink?
A first sunflower, after Lisa Daria Kennedy’s class, Daily Practice
“Butt in chair,” writes Ann Lamott about creating. “Just do it…You are going to feel like hell if you never write the stuff that is tugging on the sleeves in your heart.” Painting has tugged at my sleeves for decades. Last month, back-to-back classes took me across the threshold. I am painting each morning. An hour’s practice before breakfast. A peaceful kind of work, once I settle in. The world is so quiet before 6AM.
It is said someone asked Ted Williams how he learned to play ball. “Practice. Practice. Practice. Trial and error. Trial and error. Trial and error.” Surprise: my mom was right. Practice works.
Each morning has frustration and discovery. I am learning about the possibilities of a brush, the effect of water, the usefulness of fingertips. I’ve learned to stop at 30 minutes and walk away. At 60 minutes comes that internal voice: “Just fix this one last thing.” and I’ve learned it’s the sign to stop. Most of all I’m learning to not worry. Painting feels good. There will be another painting tomorrow.
“You were made and set here for this, to give voice to your astonishment,” writes Annie Dillard. It is a gift to focus on the astonishing miracle of color and light.
Here is a week in sunflowers. If you’d like to see the series, stop by Studio 305 this Saturday, during Open Studios at Western Avenue Studios in Lowell. I’ll be there noon to 5, and I’ll have these pieces to share. Roses coming along nicely, now, too.