A Surface That At First Held Nothing

The other night leaving my studio I see three young men coming towards me. We meet right at my car, where the foam padding comes off my cane. One boy says "I'll get that," and instantly hands it back to me. That small gesture made my evening.

This morning, going into Jake's Bagel Shop, a young man leaving held the door for me. These little gestures are there in my paintings as my way of passing on those acts of kindness. When I was young I held doors, carried groceries for strangers, and did acts of kindness. It was what my parents instilled in me.

Unbeknownst to my parents, they were teaching me art, for that is what art is to me and many of the artist I known and admire. Painting is sharing, a way of smiling at strangers when you are not present. A stream put to canvas or paper, if one is a watercolorist, is done in hopes the viewer is lifted in spirit for a moment. Paint thrown at a canvas may look chaotic but it is that door being held open for you. Art is there because someone has feelings they value and then they gift them with wild, gay colors splashed on a surface that at first held nothing. Seeing in a mind through art can teach, enlighten, and bring peace. 

Painting unlocks the person we tend to hold back. Artists bare their souls, hopes, and dreams for us to see the world around us. Art comes in many forms, my neighbors brighten my day with their wonderful flowers and cement garden figures. They are expressing themselves with their choice of flowers and I carry their art into winter when I do floral arrangements in my paintings.

Painting also informs us of the sadder, darker side of the world. I am aware of the evil in the world  but I choose to bring hope with my art - to lighten ones day.

-- 

The Hand Knows The Way

A nude, a challenge 

Dignity, respect, and insight before us

Lines, smudges, charcoal 

Fear, confidence 

Looking inside, a trapeze of emotions 

Inhale - exhale, the hand knows the way

Paper accepts and forgives as we string emotions together

At times, we sleepwalk the tense wire

Fear leaves as joy fills the void

Lines fade as they caress a hip 

Smudges lift a breast 

With another deep breath comes the hand

Shoulders rise near the finish. 

The model dresses and we hope for approval  

Another session is a reward in itself. 

The mind wanders as  I work, not far but still thoughts travel through as I draw. I  hold to the task before me. My goal is a work of art even when I am simply honing my skills, trying out a new idea I've come across. I wonder, “Is the model happy?” “Is the pose too hard?” “Do they need a heater?” “Who are they?” As my skills gain strength I am able to hold a conversation while working and gain an insight into who they are and who I am drawing a poem of.

The idea of creating a visual poem came to me when I began to collect words to describe what I wanted in a painting. Eloquent was the first word I put in my notebook. I began carrying a notebook to write these abstract thoughts down. Classy was another word, and how to make a horse's rear-end classy was a problem I gave myself... The nude was a great subject to learn from, technical skills developed working from the nude. In addition to the technical aspect, I was learning insights into myself and that it took more than simple drawing and painting skills to make a work of art.