John Lennon famously said that “Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.”
Sometimes art is that way, too. Even when you start without any plan at all!
That’s how it went with this 12 x 12 canvas. I started by smearing color around with my hands, and the painting went through a crazy number of transformations before it settled into something I was pleased with. I thought you might like to see how my creative process went!
I began this painting while at my Create & Incubate Retreat this past May. Here’s the first pic — finger painting with red, orange, and white acrylic. (Looking back on this photo now, I kind of like this as is!)
At the time, though, I felt it needed more. So first I added some pencil marks:
It needed more… So I added some white smears of Daniel Smith watercolor ground (basically gesso that you can use water media on, without it beading up), using a credit card:
Then, playing around, I pulled out some pastels:
I did NOT like this. At. All. So added some more paint…
And more pastel…
And at this point I was just completely fed up! So I took a tip from one of the artists at the retreat, and rather than covering the whole canvas in white (my usual tactic), I pulled out some black, too:
A VERY different look for me. I wasn’t really sure what I thought of it… so I kept playing, and added some pastels:
That was pretty much how the piece looked for months. I didn’t know what to do with it, so it hung on the wall of my studio for a long time.
Then one day, I decided to treat that black painting as a “blank canvas,” and went at it with a brayer, bubble wrap used as a stamp, and drips of sparkly Dr. Ph Martin iridescent calligraphy inks:
Um, REALLY not “me”… So I kept adding layers. (This is the beauty of working improvisationally: if you don’t like how it looks, just keep adding layers!)
White, plus more drips here:
At this point, it just seemed to want a bar of solid color to sort of “ground” it, so I tried adding a stripe of red:
Still not happy with it, though, so once again, I reverted to my favorite tactic of… covering it all up!
This time I used my other favorite medium: Golden Crackle Paste. I loved how the underlayers tinted the paste as I smeared it on, and I loved what the crackles did to the piece! Plus the early layers of texture still show through, adding a sense of history to the piece!
I am liking it quite a lot at this point, enough to call it “done” (though I always reserve the right to add to a piece later, if it’s still in my possession! 😉 )
The only thing this piece is lacking right now is a name! Help me give it a title by leaving a comment below.
I hope this photo essay of my creative process inspires you to go do your own creating today!
PS — Pssst! Know someone who might benefit from seeing this today? Pass it on!
Seasons (because look what it reflects in/of/from you!)…
GREAT suggestion, Melanie! Thank you!
I like the first one too,but with the black it was intriguing ,I might have stopped there.
Although the end is also interesting.
Yes you have inspired me. Keep it coming!
Lvanbers@cogeco.ca
If I had a nickel for all the times I’ve thought “I should have stopped there…” 😉 It’s part of my Creative Sandbox practice to “take the riskier path,” which means sometimes I don’t like the end result as much as an earlier iteration, but I always learn something in the process. And I always get to start fresh with a new piece, too, with everything I’ve learned.
I’m so glad I’ve inspired you, Lida! Go get creating!
A true “Metamorphosis”!
Ah! Yes, that would be a very appropriate name, Mark! Thank you for the great suggestion!
First, read this, Melissa. And to see the beautiful photo that goes with it, check the link.
HIDING
is a way of staying alive. Hiding is a way of holding ourselves until we are ready to come into the light. Even hiding the truth from ourselves can be a way to come to what we need in our own necessary time. Hiding is one of the brilliant and virtuoso practices of almost every part of the natural world: the protective quiet of an icy northern landscape, the held bud of a future summer rose, the snow bound internal pulse of the hibernating bear. Hiding is underestimated. We are hidden by life in our mother’s womb until we grow and ready ourselves for our first appearance in the lighted world; to appear too early in that world is to find ourselves with the immediate necessity for outside intensive care.
Hiding done properly is the internal faithful promise for a proper future emergence, as embryos, as children or even as emerging adults in retreat from the names that have caught us and imprisoned us, often in ways where we have been too easily seen and too easily named.
We live in a time of the dissected soul, the immediate disclosure; our thoughts, imaginings and longings exposed to the light too much, too early and too often, our best qualities squeezed too soon into a world already awash with too easily articulated ideas that oppress our sense of self and our sense of others. What is real is almost always to begin with, hidden, and does not want to be understood by the part of our mind that mistakenly thinks it knows what is happening. What is precious inside us does not care to be known by the mind in ways that diminish its presence.
Hiding is an act of freedom from the misunderstanding of others, especially in the enclosing world of oppressive secret government and private entities, attempting to name us, to anticipate us, to leave us with no place to hide and grow in ways unmanaged by a creeping necessity for absolute naming, absolute tracking and absolute control. Hiding is a bid for independence, from others, from mistaken ideas we have about our selves, from an oppressive and mistaken wish to keep us completely safe, completely ministered to, and therefore completely managed. Hiding is creative, necessary and beautifully subversive of outside interference and control. Hiding leaves life to itself, to become more of itself. Hiding is the radical independence necessary for our emergence into the light of a proper human future.
Excerpted from ‘HIDING’ From CONSOLATIONS: The Solace, Nourishment and Underlying Meaning of Everyday Words. © David Whyte:
Now Available
http://davidwhyte.stores.yahoo.net/newbook.html
PHOTO © David Whyte
Hidden Boat: River Cong: County Mayo: Ireland.
December 2012
NOW, my friend from Oakland that I keep telling you about commented, “The necessity of incubation.” And she put one of her paintings with it. That’s what I see with this evolution of this painting, aptly begun I think and Create and Incubate Retreat! I told my friend that if he substituted the word incubating for hiding, I’d embrace his ideas more. Se what you think.
His line, “Hiding leaves life to itself, to become more of itself.” I think that is what you did by letting it sit for periods, waiting for it to speak to you and you speak back in your words of paint and color and shape and line and ink, etc.
I think this painting, which I LOVE, by the way, could aptly be called, “The Perks of Incubation” or “Incubation Perks.”
I think there are several points along the way that you could have stopped and I’d call them very successful, but you had to make the final call, trusting your intuition as to what represents you best. I think you got there in spades. It really is a joy to look at, probably enriched by the story I now know behind it, but that is not to diminish it’s beauty in any way. In other words, it totally stands on its own. GOOD JOB, friend.
Wow! I think that breaks the record as the longest comment ever here, and may also be one of the richest, Petrea — thank you! I didn’t see the picture you referenced, but I love David Whyte’s writing, and agree with what he said… though just like anything else, too much hiding does not serve us.
I also really love the word “incubation.” Incubating speaks to me more than hiding. And I love your title suggestions — thank you!
my fave is the first black iteration:)
Thanks, Robin! I like that one, too… NOW. That much black is very much out of my color comfort zone, so it was hard for me to see it and appreciate it clearly when I first painted it. I think I’d like to play with more black, though. 🙂
You could call it “So Many Memories”
Great suggestion — thank you, Donna! 🙂
I like the name “Serendipity.” I enjoyed watching your process. Also, I liked the painting in several previous incarnations. However, the final one is just beautiful.
Great suggestion, Christine! Thanks! I’m glad you enjoyed getting to see the process. 🙂
I see a face “Coming out of the Fog”. Loved seeing your process.
Nice suggestion, Robin! Thank you! 🙂