Saturday, October 30, 2010















It seems as though there are two types of images that I create: one type are the surreal images such as the Birth-Giver drawing (above this writing, on the right) and the other is more expressionistic such as
The Scream. (The image above and on the left.)

I created both of these images last week. The Scream at the beginning of the week--immediately after a panic attack at school--and the Birth-Giver, Friday night, during which I felt much more at ease--I was eating a sandwich and drinking a pint of IPA while drawing; there was also a fire blazing in the wood-pellet stove.

During the execution of both images my mind was almost a blank and my hand moved as if it were moving around on a Ouija board; automatically. (I would never play with a real Ouija board--I have heard some hair-raising horror stories about the use of those things.)

I did make minimal, conscious decisions, for instance before drawing The Scream I knew that I wanted to capture how I was feeling. I chose to draw the outline of a face, but then the unconscious impulse took over.

I also felt nudges as I drew, but other than that--and the conscious choosing of a color palate for Birth-Giver-- I stayed pretty much out of the way.

I always get surprised by what comes out. It feels as though I am tapping into a big, underlying current. It is immense, hidden, and pulsing with electricity. It makes me think of the time I put my hand on the concrete surface of a hydroelectric dam and felt the hum of hidden power.

This buried current comes out of me in images and symbols. Faces appear in my art and walls melt away into flesh. Sometimes the faces are stretched into screams. Sometimes they are half-buried and wrapped in roots.

I am also reminded of Carl Jung and his idea of the Collective Unconscious and how the same symbols occur, among various peoples, again and again: on cave walls and engraved in stone or cut into charred sticks, but always the same symbols--mandalas, spirals, labyrinths, stars, and cross shapes.

I don't understand it all and even though I do try, I am glad that I don't have all the answers.

It is these feelings of mystery and tapping into something bigger that myself that I like so much about doing art in the way that I do art.

I have heard of automatic processes before: the Surrealist automatism of the Surrealists such as Andre Breton and Andre Masson--among others--and also in the free-writing styles of people such as Natalie Goldberg who wrote a book that has helped me to write; it is entitled, "Writing Down The Bones."

Do you, dear reader, create in a similar or different way? I welcome your comments and feedback.

Saturday, October 23, 2010

The Beheading


I did this piece--The Beheading-- in 2010, with a ball-point pen (biro) on Moleskin sketchbook paper.
It was an experiment for me in that I was trying to establish a color palate for myself. Since I spent so much of my time, in the past, drawing with pens and pencils I was used to working in black and white.
A friend of mine, a graphic designer said that I needed to improve my use of color. She suggested that I could look to nature for colors and I did. Most of the color in this drawing I got from a single dying leaf.
They are muted colors which I think work well together. Many people have said that they love the colors in this one so I guess I succeeded in my goal of better using color.
This drawing was also an experiment for me in that I had never used the biro together with colored pencils. (I used Prisma colored pencils which I like the best of the colored pencils.)
I was afraid, at first, to color in the drawing, because it was already working well in black and white. I thought that I might ruin it in the coloring.
However, so often when I am doing art, I reach the piont of fear when I am standing before the abyss of decision--then I plunge ahead. Sometimes I do ruin a drawing or painting, but it usually works out for the best.
So, here's to risk taking and experiments in creating.