Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Craig's confession

So, "Jeff" is still staring. Today I did a little mind mapping to unearth some ideas about where to take this painting. I think I have a few……

Up in West Virginia, Craig confessed to me that he felt my work was not going in the direction that it should go. I was a little hard to hear but I know he is right. I have always been very attracted to the surreal and to work of the mind over what I can literally see with the eye or copy. That has always been my strong point and my joy to work in this way. His reference was the "Vincent" painting which to him does not look like one of my paintings, but like someone else’s. It looks unfinished, almost like it is waiting for something. I agree.

For some reason I have moved in a realist sort of direction even though it is a direction that bores me. Maybe it is residue from the art school indoctrination I received. I had to prove I can do it if I want to. Consequently, I haven’t really been honing those imagination skills for some time. I am quite rusty, as I am discovering with "Jeff." I am a not as right brained as a lot of artists are either (therefore I am not flaky, like ALOT of artists….sorry, admit it brothers and sisters.) But because of that I tend to censor myself more…I am reasonable. I like to be on time and like to know what is going on before I go, don’t like surprises and don’t like changes in the schedule. Think that hinders my artistic side a bit?..

Monday, August 28, 2006


OK, so a month since I have posted. Sometimes you just live and don’t have any commentary along the way.

I met my mom at my sister’s in Atlanta a few weeks ago, about the time those guys were attempting to mix explosives in airplane lavatories. I did make it home and left two days later for West Virginia (please hold the regional jokes.) It was the first real vacation Craig and I have had since our honeymoon seven years ago. Our very generous friends offered their mountain home as accommodations.

West Virginia is an odd mix of Appalachian and hippie cultures. It is beautiful up there with plenty of miles of hiking for enthusiasts, like us. We did an eight mile hike one day. Why you say? Well, after the third hour I was asking that myself. Being deep in the wilderness breathing the air, suddenly noticing the lack of engine noise is a wonderful experience, sore feet and all. We even had the rare opportunity to see a black bear. Sort of a "Wow!" moment that turns to an "Oh, S—!" moment pretty quickly as one realizes one is in the presence of a BEAR. We immediately began looking for stuff to throw and trees to climb just in case.
We paid many visits to The Purple Fiddle , the local cafe famous for its showcase of bluegrass bands. I have a new appreciation for the genre after seeing Greensky Bluegrass there one Friday night (Yes, I know. Not very punk rock.) Bluegrass has to be observed, not just heard. Then you get it.

So, back home and headed up to Philadelphia on Friday for the opening. I have done no artwork in weeks save one portrait, so struggling a bit with finding meaning in walking dogs alone. "Jeff" has been beckoning, just staring at me from the easel…….I am still stuck. I still feel it a painting worth finishing.