Fantastic weekend filled with art starting with my show's opening reception in Watertown on Thursday night... amazing artists such as local Multimedia artists Adrienne Shisko and Dawna Davis whom I must connect with. Saturday was Bird Observer and Painter Extraordinaire Anna Koon's Spring show in her JP studio. Nathalie and I caught the Bird Bug and we each left grinning in delight each with our own fowl. Sunday afternoon was Somerville's Open Studios Day and I finally got to meet wonderful and intriguing painter Anne Johnstone whose audaciously ecclectic and signature style really speaks to me. It was a delight to meet Anne and I left home with "Nemesis" (the writing was on the wall!)...
I finally got a chance to stop by this morning to see how my three boys were looking in the limelight at supercool Caffe Nero in Jamaica Plain, MA.... Thank you Allyson Brown for such a great display job!
I'm so excited to be displaying at the annual Members Show of the Watertown Arsenal for the Arts Gallery. I cannot wait to see my big baby "Redorama" hanging on the wall! Please come if you can, the opening reception night is Thursday, April 28th between 5:30pm and 7:30pm.
Was rummaging through my head for a suitable title for this three-piece series... something along the lines of redemption, rebirth, fresh new start... "New Leaf" came to mind. Because of the vibrant and triumphant green progressively taking over, it instinctively felt right. But the ultimate validation came from David Gray himself singing in my ear three seconds later the line "Just the Bullets whispering gentle mongst the new green leaves" ("The One I Love"). I would not make this up. And so I thought: "Well alright then!".
Peaches have just blossomed in New England in mid-March... anything is possible!
I would like to let go now.... I want to forget all about or at least get past the dreadful yet inevitable drama that surrounds the Before and After and fly away... like a friend of the Blue Bird, just in another direction for now.... RIP DB
Isolation coat and glossy top lacquer coat I just started using account for the unfortunate glare effect.
After a very unruly and rebellious gluing process, these coyotes are finally roaming freely under the evening sky
January 10, 2016 came and went... leaving some of us never quite the same ever again...
I wanted to remember what that ill-fated day took away from the world so I painted. It is for now a two-panel project (third central panel to follow) which retraces the emotions of the news (1) and those which gracefully have begun to emerge since (2).
The "Coyotes" are waiting for their blue sky to dry...
After an emotionally trying and prickly glance into the dark land of Afterlife and before plunging into it again to finish off a necessary three-part series ("January 10th - Tis a Pity"), it is high time for some perky and blissful strokes of sunny paint to radiate over the canvas of my mind and give me a much needed change of emotional landscape.
"Coyotes" are here howling in delight, eagerly longing for a thick and creamy coat of serene blue sky to bring them serenity and comfort.
The sky is drying. Soon there will be peace on the land...
The new "Small Works" exhibit kicked off October 29th through December 27th at the Watertown's Arsenal Center for the Arts. Opening reception is Thursday, November 5th, 5:30pm-7:30pm. I am very excited to have four pieces displayed in this show. I look forward to seeing some of you this Thursday night. For more information about the exhibit and the venue, visit the Center's website at: http://arsenalarts.org/visual/#Small Works 2015
I am a paper scrap. A useless, awkward and rather insignificant paper scrap. I have no name, no purpose and no bright future laid out in front of me. I live anonymously under the Work Station where the real action takes place and where “big things” come to life. I have aspired to be part of the big picture my whole life. I could already see my picture framed.
I did not make the cut. I’ll never know why.
Maybe it was my shape, my color, too many others just like me. But I was not valued, selected, recognized or acknowledged as significant. I saw several pieces just like me selected right before my eyes, torn from the same paper as me but my turn never came. I used to obsess over the why, the how come and the what if… Now I am waiting for my next chance.
Because there will be a next chance. You see, I live in a world where the awkward, the odd, the misshapen and the discolored are not blindly discarded. Rather, I and plenty of others around me are preciously and carefully picked up from a dusty floor and put in a very special box filled with other lucky random, disheveled, one-legged pieces not at all “just like me”. I live in a world where my “handicap” makes me unique, special, precious and full of promises. On my own I may not look like much but my creator believes that I have tremendous potential, just because of how different I am.
Someday soon I will be hand-picked over my countless neighbors as The One precisely needed to make the next big picture. I will be critical to the success of a much bigger outcome. Many will point their finger at me and comment about my silly, grotesque shape and praise me for how necessary I am contextually, how the picture I live in would never be as successful without me. And so I patiently wait in a small dark box with a smile on my face, dreaming about my future.
1. Paint and 2. Slash
My creative process typically follows these four progressive steps: A new piece almost invariably starts with a combination of colors popping inside my head or a mood. Very few pieces (although some) have evolved from an actual concept or idea.
From there, I use acrylic paint to create a large inventory of painted sheets on various types of paper to create a unique glow or sheen. Solid panels will serve as my base inventory while a range of multicolored, textured and visually more complex panels will be the highlight of a piece. No sheet ever gets discarded, if they don't make the cut on a current project, they end up in the Magical Bin where hundreds of unused sheets get stored for future projects.
The slashing is the most instinctive and freeing part of the process: It sometimes follows the clear vision of an imagined shape, at times it is purely instinctive and impulsive tearing of the paper while my hands are given free range to shape and create without any analytical input. This is when creativity is at its peak.
Composing is the most deliberate and strategic step of the process. It can be the most gratifying stage of creating a new piece or the most frustrating one. This is when each shred of paper gets validated as a necessary part of the final project and finds its unique place with relation to the others to bring cohesion and aesthetics to the final product.
Gluing each piece of painted paper onto the final board is the most overwhelming step as hundreds of strands are invariably intertwined in complex layers. Considerable patience, precision and organization are required when gluing each strand from the very bottom layer to the very top. This step will determine the final craftsmanship of the project. Many a time, last minute changes in composition occur during this step.
When the gluing part is over, final treatment takes place (final brushing of the piece and flattening) before framing.