Seeing Things in the Hand of Their Creator

Pick up a pencil, make a few marks on a sheet of paper, and you have created a love letter or a grocery list. That letter or list tells so much more than the words. It tells about the hand that wrote it; was it strong, or light & graceful? Were there signs of shakiness? What color was used? Simple black or blue, or a bit more flare with red or green? Painting is the same. Are the strokes bold or refined? Are the colors fully mixed, or brought right from the tube?

A painting of a simple dandelion in a water glass can stir emotions in one person and leave another wondering “why?” A famous masterpiece might cause one person to pause for a moment, while wrapping another in heavy thoughts for hours. Some paintings are simple grocery lists while others paintings are those treasured love letters.

Art is a gift of peace and pleasure, how we accept it is where it varies. That dandelion in a water glass can both irritate and comfort. It is both a simple painting and a masterpiece, and how it is painted speaks directly to each viewer, evoking a personal emotion.

As an artist, I see things in the hand of its creator. Some days I see drudgery wrapped up in a painting, with skill and talent lost in my own emotions. I feel the hand of the artist and I sense their doubts. Other days I'm lifted by the joy of seeing colors splashed about on a canvas. Subjects are trivial at times. We artists just want to mix wonderful colors and watch them leave the brush, making friends with those strong or soft strokes that imbue them on to the canvas. Abstracts or realism, we deal with the same goals.

For me, that goal is finding myself that day, and hoping I like the person I find.

And Along Came Color Studies...

Two-cent deposits on every pop bottle, Mr Brown, of The Brown Store where I took those bottles, wanted you to take candy instead of the money. I always took the money though, giving half to mom who would take it to the bank for me when I had enough. Mom and Dad always said it was for college. They had no idea it would end up being for art school.

Orange crates were other things I collected. On the way home from school I passed a Kroger Store, they were kind enough to put out orange crates for me. At home, in our basement I would carefully take them apart, storing my little collection of lumber till I had just the right idea for making things from those little boards. I made a western town from that wood for my plastic cowboys. Spent a lot of time sanding that rough wood smooth. Then sawing the pieces to build the town with my dad's coping saw.

The half of the deposit money that I got to keep went to buying little plastic cowboys, and later it went for special artist pencils and I switched from cowboy towns to making pencil boxes from my orange crates for my special art pencils. Never let anything go to waste became part of the way I did things, like using every inch of the masonite boards I made my panels from.

In art school Mr. Van, my art teacher, showed me ways of using my leftover paint. Scraps from making my own panels added to Mr. Van's idea of using leftover paints and along came color studies. Color studies are ways for me to see how a color works with other colors, and if they are even colors I will allow in my paint box. One bad habit I have is buying colors I don't really need... Paris blue, Prussian blue and Phthalo blue made their way into my paint box somehow. And I have a dozen reds I need to learn about. Painting small color studies is my way of doing this. Over the years it has led me to creating hundreds of these little paintings.