Archives for posts with tag: Painter

Day Eighty-Three/Image Eighty-Three

“Afloat” Image. Ceres Gallery. New York. Solo Show.

The beer bottle and its “background” are mixed together. The background comes foreword and the beer bottle recedes in places. All being of one color, the collage works well. The space is flattened, making it one piece, one of my favorite types of successes in artwork.

Thursday, my daughter’s AP Art Class is coming to my studio space and I will talk to them about art.

My studio in Atlanta is a huge classroom. The space is inside an historic building. An old schoolhouse built in the early 1900’s. The building houses some of the most interesting arts communities in Atlanta. A radio station, (WRFG-FM Radio), Horizon Theatre, (a theatre company), Art Papers Magazine, seven artists’ studios among other businesses. A wonderful place. I feel lucky to do my artwork there. The artists’ studios are not open to the public. Therefore my studio is just for work, not for showing my work to the public.

Each student in the class will bring a sequestered outlook from their background in the suburbs. Their young minds still not open to accepting things not in their daily environment. The building, first of all, is located in an “artsy” part of town. Every city has one: tattoo places, motorcycle hangouts. Places that pierce you, but look dubious.

These children are suburban kids. Hopefully just seeing the inside of a radio station or watching Horizon Theatre constructing their sets on the front lawn will mix up their outlook and cause them to consider other avenues.

Day Eighty-Two/Image Eighty-Two

“Afloat” Image. Ceres Gallery. New York. Solo Show.

Multi-lateral thinking. I don’t know if this is a psychological condition or not. But I do know, that, in contrast with my husband, who is more of a linear thinker, I think about many things at one time.

Aside from going to the movies to enjoy myself, I go to the movies to think about my problems. And I come away, having solved them all, made lists mentally and organized the week. And followed the plot at the same time. It’s relaxing really to know that all is handled in my life.

My husband, on the other hand, can watch the most boring movie and pay attention to every detail all the way through.

The only time this movie-going organization gets sticky and I can’t hold onto the plot of the movie, is when there are a lot of facts going on. My brain is incapable, I guess, of holding onto so many layers.

Then I turn to my husband and say, “What just happened?” Needless to say, he gets irritated.

Day Eighty-One/Image Eighty-One

“Afloat” Image. Ceres Gallery. New York. Solo Show.

Celebration! A teaming madhouse of humanity all jumbled together to run a race called “The Peachtree Road Race!” It is a big event in Atlanta! A six miler, with tens of thousands running early in the morning on the Fourth of July. Before Atlanta’s heat steams all of us: runners and non-runners and before we non-runners can admire all the people who “did” it. Wearing their T shirts proudly.

That’s what you are looking at. Plus a few of my balloons and puffy colors. Just to make it look even more festive. If there were aliens looking down on this scene, what would they think?

Day Eighty/Image Eighty

“Afloat” Image. Ceres Gallery. New York. Solo Show.

A plane landing on water. At night.

Almost a week ago, I had sinus surgery. The doctor “ordered” it pretty quickly. Was good because I did not have too much time to worry about it. He told me it would be in my best interest to get the procedure done, and since the three of us had already planned to attend a college interview for our daughter eight hours away, we were hurling down a super scary highway at night. We left at night because I attended an art opening of a group show I was in. The interview the next day, then back home after another eight hour scary ride. I started to get ready.

Two days later, I was on the operating table. Pretty uneventful except for the anesthesiologist. He was interesting.

He told me he loved being the calm one in chaos. I almost pointed out (and this was before the relaxing drip started blurring my thoughts) that my painting, which hovers between abstraction and figuration always has a grid or structure behind the abstraction to anchor it. And to calm people down when they experience the painted turbulence. But I didn’t go into this. He seemed very “normal.” And I did not want to come off as offbeat in such a tense, for me, out-of-control situation. Hairnet on and all my defenses down.

He told me he went to Georgia Tech to become a Scientific Engineer. Then went to medical school and became a Marine in the Special Forces. He performed his duty as an anesthesiologist while hearing bombs fly over and strike near his base in Iraq.

The structural grid I put in my paintings to still the abstracted motion does not compare to his calm amid chaos. Still, I felt a connection.

Day Seventy-Nine/Image Seventy-Nine

“Afloat” Image. Ceres Gallery. New York. Solo Show.

Asparagus. Used here like trees over the California Coast. How can an artist improve on the California Coast? I think I just did.

Day Seventy-Seven/Image Seventy-Seven

“Afloat” Image. Ceres Gallery. New York. Solo Show.

Google captures some of my earlier stuff (Google captures everyone’s earlier stuff) where I went a little crazy with natural disasters. I even had a solo show in Atlanta where, although I did not mention natural disasters in the title of the exhibition, the entire body of work consisted of volcanoes and floods.

I exhibited in a solo show in New York with this kind of work also, but I did own up to the subject matter this time by using the title, “Tectonics”. In both of these shows and in all the work I do with this theme, I approach it from an aesthetic point of view. I love explosions, tidal waves, fire and brimstone. I like the chaos, color, motion and excitement. The nature of natural disasters encapsulates these things.

The above work is one of the collages from the “Afloat: An Installation” series, using this theme. Flames and explosions amid a lovely valley near a snow-covered mountain. I searched extensively to find magazines with fire, explosions and smoke on the printed page. (I do not use photoshop or internet images ever. All of my collage work is cut paper from magazines and other printed material) I like cut printed material for this type of art because even magazines are now on the internet. I am combining what-is-becoming old fashioned materials with an old fashioned medium.

What is not hard to find, however, in magazines, are flowers. And I love how I put the foreground flames side-by-side with over-sized flowers. As if to say, hey, all is okay.

Day Seventy-Five/Image Seventy-Five

“Afloat” Image. Ceres Gallery. New York. Solo Show.

Pink. Looks like an advertisement for a cosmetic company. I cut out pictures of cotton balls on the plastic of cotton ball bags. Bubbles, baubles and a pretty face. Fun. A flower in the middle.

How I love its superficiality and innocence! And, as an art form, I love the integration of colors and shapes.

Day Seventy-Four/Image Seventy-Four

“Afloat” Image. Ceres Gallery. New York. Solo Show.

This collage was the signature piece for my “Afloat” show. I used it on all eblasts, the brochure and the invitations.

Day Seventy-Three/Image Seventy-Three

“Afloat” Image. Ceres Gallery. New York. Solo Show.

Some people seem to be surrounded by rainbows and moonlight. They seem to have the freedom to fly away at whim. Not me. I get called for jury duty. I have served on about twenty juries, criminal and civil. This is the opposite of moonlight, rainbows and being free.

When I am stuck in the courtroom, waiting to be called for my interview in front of everyone, (of course, having to stand while being interviewed for selection) a slow anxiety permeates the room. It’s always a red room, which, to me makes it worse.

First off, in murder trials, there is the alleged murderer looking at me. Pointing at me, indicating to his lawyer he wants ME to be on the jury. There is this suffocating feeling of never being able to leave.

In civil trials, there is haggling in the jury room over the amount of money the plaintiff wants in the case. We always agonize over this one. Trying so hard to be fair. One jury I was a part of, we figured out the woman was due two million dollars! Because we took so long, the poor woman panicked, and told her lawyer she would settle for three hundred thousand. All those hours going over facts for nothing!

It is always in the fall of the year. The notice comes. And that get-away plane looks pretty good. I usually am feeling like I am coming down with something. One year I was in a health food store and I told the person behind the check out about my always being called. She said “It’s your energy field.” And handed me the card of some healer and energy mover.

I told my friend in San Francisco. And how, I said, will I know if my energy field has changed? She said, you won’t be called for jury duty anymore.

Day Seventy-One/Image Seventy-One

“Afloat” Image. Ceres Gallery. New York. Solo Show.

Pansies. I love pansies. Here they thrive in the winter. Rows and clusters of them are being planted in huge quantities now at all gas stations, median strips, apartment complexes. People are buying them to put in their flower beds. I am too busy with this blog, I don’t know how I am going to get any artwork done.

But when I see pansies. With their sweet, upturned faces, sometimes shivering in the cold, I turn all Southern and say, “They hung the moon.”