Grounding Energy
The world around me is slowing- if I were to only look to the trees, the plants, and the earth I could recognize the beginnings of a long slumber. Even the sun’s strength feels faded as we move from one season and deeper into the next. Our daylight hours are constricted, and our orbit around the sun throws shadows further and at sharper angles than before. This time of year always feels like a trigger for change, for rest, for turning inward.
I have recently been invited to participate in the Greenhut Galleries “Portland Show”, a group exhibition of Maine artists rendering some aspect of Portland, or what Portland means to them. I had some initial thoughts on tackling the well-painted and infamous back of Harbor Fish on the working waterfront. I may still try that someday (since it feels like an icon that should be attempted), but the Presumpscot River is such a well-loved spot for our family (and a painting I had already started if truth be told) that working on this particular painting has me excited all over again now knowing that it will hang in a gallery this coming spring.
Meanwhile, there are other big ones in my studio that I’m close to completing. The scene from our cottage in Waldoboro is done (and has a buyer!), the Spurwink River painting is probably done, and the Waldoboro Marsh scene is close. The two taking up the rear are the ones with figures in them. They were the last ones I started, and they do both feel like a departure with the introduction of the figure.
Somehow the handling is different. Suddenly, I’ve inserted a narrative and I like where it took me. I will have to explore these scenes with and without the figure a bit more and see if I can bring them closer together, or if they are meant to be two totally different things- narrative painting vs landscape.
I’m having fun creating the mood and addressing aesthetic problems that come up while I paint. By coming up with a bank of “codes” I can recreate the natural world as it appears to me, or maybe more accurately how it feels to me. How does water look as ripples? Or how do I make that glare of the light through the trees? I have no interest in copying that scene by painting what I see. I want to recreate it with texture, stroke, value and pattern in a very loose and painterly way.
This is a process that feels very intuitive. By observing the photo and then closing my eyes, I put myself in the scene and then I look around. “That light coming through the trees feels like a cool green, like seafoam!” I find I often try things using a lot of extender and then wipe away quickly if it doesn’t feel “right.” Although, it can take many layers to finally make it right. There are so many ways to get it from A to B, but it’s never ok to overwork it, so with that in mind I try to take good care and notice when I’m obsessing.
That final push can often feel arduous, but I’m working hard to make those last touches feel as fresh as the first. Again, I’m resting when I need to take a break and redirecting my creative energy elsewhere- like here! At the moment I keep sneaking side glances at this Presumpscot painting. That background is DONE. Note to self, and you. DONE. I need y’all to keep me honest!
It’s early November and soon we are going to be waist-deep in the holidays. Are you ready? Life keeps coming at us, even as our government is stuck in a stalemate squabble and our people suffer on their behalf. We must all do what we can to donate to food drives, and get connected to our local politics. The brokenness of our nation is seemingly profound, and where something is broken there is an opportunity to be part of the solution.
We are at a time in our history where corruption runs deep, but the sea change is out there. It’s wise and it’s had enough. The beginnings of a movement are rippling outward, just very small at first. And it’s got me to thinking, how do I paint the ripples?
What do they feel like?
