The Point of It All October 5, 2024 14:31
This is a work in progress that I was getting ready to abandon a week ago. This idea of abandoning--not just a particular painting, but my art altogether--has been knocking around in my head for a few months. I know it's partly because of the demands of painting in a completely new style, relying on the Surrealist method of automatism. This has resulted in some really good paintings for me, but it is also not easy, and like anything new an artist (or anyone) might try, it's scary. With each new painting I'd become convinced that I would have no ideas in my subconscious to pull up onto my support. I feared it would either be an empty sheet, or worse, trite. For most artists, trite = death.The other thing is that the state of the world has been getting to me in a big way. One reason why I began relying on automatism is because my previous motivation--the world's need for beauty and for respite from the stress and terror of the world--seemed petty and small. How could a beautiful painting help the world in any way? I came to believe it was the equivalent of hiding my head in a hole and pretending that was an improvement.
And I just kept hearing in my head, over and over, the hatred and bile aimed at Jews every single day now. When people are screaming that your people should be wiped out, louder and louder, and you are having to deal with bomb threats and active shooter drills in a place you previously thought of as a sacred space, it's like acid on my soul.
So I thought about just giving up art entirely. What is the point of making art in a world like that? And who would look at it?
One thing that has helped me is that it has really started to be fall here. That's always been my favorite time of year. I love the cool days and the changing light and the brilliant blue of an October sky. And I love winter.
I began to think about painting traditional landscapes again. Just as a place for me personally to escape to. Another artist I know refers to what they call "comfort paintings." This is what making a traditional landscape is for me as an artist--comfort.
I began to think that maybe I needed to paint these comfort paintings for myself. I even thought about no longer putting my art up for sale, maybe not even put it up on my site. But is that what I always wanted to do as an artist? Then it becomes a hobby like any other. I already have those. And it would feel like a defeat for me. I've devoted a good chunk of my life to painting.
Today, I decided to work on this painting again. I thought I would just let my mind take me wherever it wanted to go with it and not try to explain it to myself or to anyone else. And that is helping.
One thing I've always loved to paint is raking light, especially the kind that glows the edges of things at dawn, sunset, moonshine, or even artificial light. So I decided to focus on that, even though the photo I was roughly basing this painting on was one I took on a very foggy night and the "sun" was a distant orange street light. You can make a sun where you want to when you're painting. And I'm happy with it so far.
What does it mean? I don't know. I might come to build a meaning for it as I go along. But for now, I decided it's okay to be a composition in grey and orange, a painting of a city that resides somewhere on another plane.
And I love that folks are complimenting me on this painting and seeing it as the "somewhere else" that is my favorite sort of image--a place in dream, a memory of another life or another world, and more.
It's the best I can do right now.