Cezanne, Cezanne – he’s my man….

"An art which isn't based on feeling isn't an art at all ... feeling is the principle, the beginning and the end; craft, objective, technique – all these are in the middle."

"Style is not created through servile imitation of the masters; it proceeds from the artist's own particular way of feeling and expressing himself."

"Genius is the ability to renew one's emotions in daily experience."

Over the course of this past summer and into the fall,  I’ve been doing more and more small ‘sketches’ like the one above  -- 4-6 per week since June.     While immersed in the act of creativity, I feel truly happy, even though I’m living through much unhappiness at this point of time in my life.  When people ask me how my work is going or what I’m doing, I tell them “Experiments.”  Which makes me think back to Cezanne and some of the paintings that he called his ‘experiments.’

Some things I’ve learned:  My experiments are exercises in showing up & doing the work, even if an experiment.  I’m using up available space in sketchbooks from the past.   I’m using time spent in not working for $$’s.  My paintings are small and start simple.  In recent months I’ve been enjoying beginning my paintings not with a pencil but with brush and paint, inspired by Chinese Brush Painting videos on YouTube.   It’s quicker, saves time while time is flying.  It’s more spontaneous and lively.  It’s a lot of fun, more fun than figuring out how to improve my score at Angry Birds.

I go for the essence of what I sense is in the scene before me; color, form, perception of what is viewed and what value it has in what I see….  I think that my ‘essence’ is similar to Cezanne’s ‘sensation.’   I’m enjoying getting to know Indigo.  And Sepia.  I’ve stopped listening to the Drawing Police, Perspective Police and the Color-Mixing Police; if I’m having a good time that’s all that matters.  When the sketch is complete, it is what it is.  A kind and loving critique from self is Acceptable; demeaning Criticism & harsh judgment  is not.    

When I review these small sketches I remember what I was feeling when I did them.  The form and the color open channels into my memory, as if snapshots in a photo album.

Since I’ve been thinking back to Cezanne and his ‘experiments’ I decided to Google to find the quote I had in mind. I didn’t find that particular one but I did find the ones I quoted here.  I’ve always loved Cezanne’s paintings and have read much about the man, himself.  In the artist family I’ve created for myself, he’s the Father.    The quotes I selected struck a chord within; I feel validated.

Quote for the day: DH Lawrence

Sketch for October 10, '11

"If we think about it, we find that our life consists in this achieving a pure relationship between ourselves and the living universe about us.  This is how I "save my soul",  by accomplishing a pure relationship between me and another person, me and other people, me and a nation, me and a race of men, me and animals, me and the trees or flowers, me and the earth, me and the skies and sun and stars, me and the moon:  an infinity of pure relationships big and little....This, if we knew it, is our life, our eternity:  the subtle, perfected relation between me and my whole circumambient universe."  

Day of the Paint Out

Sorry about the lousy photo -- I forgot to take a picture before I put the painting under glass

I was up early this morning, way before the time the alarm was set, feeling alternately anticipatory then anxious about going to the Paint Out today.  It's a long-ish drive to Kent -- 45 minutes -- and I got there at quarter of 9.  There was no one around except the lady who was checking people in.  Everyone else was already out and working.


I'd planned on painting at the Congregational Church in Kent because other than the Art Association, it's the only place I really know in Kent as there's a great Thrift Shop next door I used to visit regularly -- before the economic downturn in this country hit me so hard that going to a Thrift Shop is now something I only dream about.  When I drove by the Congregational Church, on my way to register at the Art Association,  I noticed that they were having a Farmer's Market and already, so early, there were many cars filling the parking lot and lining the street.  After I signed in at the KAA, I got back in the car and went south for a few miles but couldn't find a place that suited my needs.

I like to find a safe place to park for me and my car.  I like sun/shade, seclusion and a place where I feel comfortable setting up camp for many hours.  Nothing appealed to me so I thought that I might as well turn around and go to Kent Falls, a State Park with a very pretty waterfall as the central feature.  By the time I got there, I was looking forward to being there as there's some good places to set up camp with inspiring scenes to paint plus Doolies -- which are far superior to bushes.  When I pulled up to the kiosk at the entrance of the parking lot a state worker asked me to pay $9 to park in the lot, sit in the park, use the doolie.  I thought for about 2 seconds and then declined and headed back down the road until I came to a cemetery I've often noticed but never investigated.  Cemeteries are usually secluded and more often than not, the parking is free.  So, that's where I spent the day, at a very old cemetery called St John's Acres.  No doolie, but plenty of privacy, so not a problem.  I could see my car from the top of the tree-shaded knoll where I spent the day.  It was parked in the grass on the side of the road and no one came along with a complaint or a request for me to pay a parking fee.  Quite often during the day, I felt I was back home -- the sound of distant sirens and the call of nearby crows.


The cell service was good, too.  During the day I took a few calls, sent a few texts.  It was weird, but fun,  talking on the phone in the middle of nowhere.  I think I started sending texts because late in the day I felt kind of bored.


I had a hard time getting started with the painting because the stones were so close together that they appeared as more of a solid wall than scattered grave markers.  Many were inches apart.  I did a few sketches and finally worked out a composition where I got the main stones and left out a whole lot more.  I liked the way the foreground stone appeared against the sky and I loved the tall pines in the background and all the other stones were props.  I also loved the fence in the background.


Around 2:30 I gathered up all my things and trekked back to the car.  I had plenty of time to get to the art association before 3 so put my painting in the matte, then in the frame, got out my point driver and closed up the painting on the trunk of my car.  I did the papering and wiring back at the art association.


Between 3 and 4 was the time everyone was supposed to be back with their paintings and do the final details & register their paintings before the auction began at 4.  A few people were late and the auction began at 4:15.  I'd signed-on to be the runner, the person delivering the paintings from where they'd been hung on racks on the porch, around the building to the back door and hand them to a person inside who lined them up and then handed them to the auctioneer when he was done auctioning off the previous painting.  Another woman offered to help and we had a good time schlepping the paintings and talking.   That took up about a half hour.  There were 40 paintings in all and by the time the auction was over, only 3 were sold.  It was a lacklustre sale.  Mine wasn't one of the ones that was sold.  Bummer.  The woman who helped me run the paintings around to the back door, her painting didn't sell either.  Double Bummer.   


A few times in the morning I felt anxious enough to want to scrap the plan for the day and head home but after I finally reached my little knoll in the cemetery and got into the sketches, I was fine and am glad that I stuck it out for the day and the auction after.


The best part of the day was after the auction.  There was a lot of leftover good food, punch & cookies and a good time hanging out with other people who had helped put on the show.  I also got a napkin full of goodies to bring home.  Chocolate chip cookies are no longer in my budget or diet, so I grabbed quite a few for company coming tomorrow.  A good day and I'm glad I worked through my stage fright and went.

Canary in the Coal Mine theory on the Arts and How I Spent My Summer

“I sometimes wondered what the use of any of the arts was. The best thing I could come up with was what I call the canary in the coal mine theory of the arts. This theory says that artists are useful to society because they are so sensitive. They are super-sensitive. They keel over like canaries in poison coal mines long before more robust types realize that there is any danger whatsoever.”

-Kurt Vonnegut

I haven’t blogged in many a month, mostly because I’ve been sunk into the silence of myself as things go from worse to worser.  The quote from Kurt Vonnegut has been strong in my mind throughout, is what I think of when I think about whether to write in my blog – or not.

There’s been precious little paid work and making ends meet  in the midst of rising prices is difficult.   To say the least.

Those who support the Arts and Artists,  don’t so much, lately.    

But, I say to myself, I’ve been here before, the country I live in has seen  peril and hard-times  before, I’ll just keep putting one foot in  front of the other and hope for the best.

The best  has been that I’ve had much time to spend and much of it has been on my Art.

In the midst of these hard-times, I’ve spent much more than 2 hours a day working en studio.  I’ve designed projects that require no expenditure.  I’ve spent much time playing with paint in sketch books from the past where pages were left blank  when I stopped using them and went on to another. 

There was the surprise of finding a brand-new sketch book I forgotten I had.  


I’ve filled these sketch book pages with small paintings.   A few weeks ago, in the spirit of keeping it simple, I began sketching my composition with brush and paint, which has been a constant source of amusement, for me. 

Rather than spend gas & put un-necessary wear and tear on car and tires,  I’ve been staying home, painting from my windows, front porch, from my lawn chair somewhere in the yard around the house….  Home Beach, I call it, and a wonderful place it’s been for me these past many months.  With the sound of the brook running through the culvert out back, the sound of crows and other birds ringing through the air in the peace of this neighborhood, I can well imagine myself at Southford Falls, a place where I love to be for the pond & brook feeding the pond, the open land around it, trees and few people.  There have been people on my Home Beach and the encounters with them has been part of the fun.

 

Since The Internet,  George Bush and 911 I’ve been more politically active than I was since the years of the Clinton administration;   this past summer, I’ve doubled my online activism and in my own way, have strengthened the power of my voice and my vote.  I am glad to see that People have begun to act up, speak out and stand up for the power of their convictions.  For the first time in ages, I feel a sense of hope that the 99%’ers will be able to make a change that we 99%’ers so desperately need.   I'm with them in spirit.  

Off and on this past summer I’ve been thinking about participating in a Paint Out at the Kent Art Association, where I’m a member.  Sometimes I think Yes, with a great deal of confidence.  Sometimes I think NO, it’s too public an event and my stage fright is overwhelming.  On this topic, I feel that I’m on the high diving tower at Sandy Beach, vacillating and hesitant to dive into the water or go back down the ladder.  I also remember how good it felt to let go, dive in and do it over and over again.  I haven’t  yet signed up as an entrant in the Paint Out but I did sign-on as a runner for the auction later in the afternoon on the day of the Paint Out, so I’m that committed.  The weather looks good for next Saturday and I discovered a ¼ sheet of watercolor paper so there’s a good chance I’ll be in Kent next Saturday,  Painting Outside with all the experience from practicing all summer at Home Beach.