Lately I’ve been feeling that mostly what I’m doing is practicing making more interesting messes and then learning to fix them…
“Then I discover when you take a step forward, even a small step, the fear doesn’t exercise such a tight grip. It’s still there but it’s somehow reduced and you allow yourself to feel less of a helpless victim because ultimately it’s the sense of powerlessness that does you in.”
There’s a alluring tug towards the patterns of the unspecific representation of a compositional fragment, the pulling from a live model the line, proportions, and shadows that define the form, and color swapping into an entirely different tonal range. When used in conjunction with cropping off the form, the figure becomes seen decidedly more as pattern than as narrative, working to stir something altogether different than if it strove more towards mimetic representation.
I don’t want to tell the viewer what to see, what I want is to learn to lead the viewer into a somatic experience. A gentle state of arousal.
A small step forward.
Every problem that you have is either an education problem or a mindset problem…
… and some are both.
Nothing risked, nothing lost, it’s just a drawing, learned enough to risk again…
It doesn’t have to mean anything…
I’m not asking for a trade of your resources or judgments, I’m asking you to be open to pushing against what I push forward.
I’ve found this week that I’m far more comfortable sharing work that feels awkward and haptic rather than work that’s leans towards formalized representation. While I’m working towards being able to convincingly visually represent the character of an individual, I’d prefer to steer away from mimemic accuracy, the world is already filled with people running themselves through that particular funnel, and I’m pretty sure the world wouldn’t be any better served by my choice to follow suit, so I choose not to.
The recognition of a single element, a hand or a foot, can be enough to lead a viewer into a play of line and color, a tempting tease to puzzle reason from.
It’s the hint of possibly that tempts the eye to move through color and line, slowing, searching for clues to meaning.
To be sure, being told what’s there in front of the viewer will instantly end the game. The exercise of “engaged seeing” abruptly ends, turning quickly to assessment and disengagement.
The assertion, reason kills the power of a work of art.