Slow

Studio view :: 8.16.23

    Slowness has been on my mind a little lately. Specifically, slowness in the studio, in my painting. Over the past 6-8 months, I've been slowly bringing a new body of work into existence that's moving me into another realm of thought and being in my art making. The nature of the new work has caused a shift within that's manifesting in the work and while quite different from how I've approached my painting, it's a welcome difference.         

    The difference is of slowness in the making of these new paintings. My general modus operandi in making new work is to remain open and push my boundaries as far as I can within a painting, drawing or other work. That means bringing together painting, collage, drawing and whatever else I can think of into the work and working fairly quickly to make these ideas gel visually. There's a sense of urgency, a need to get it out and resolved sooner than later. Over the course of making the pieces, I gradually slow down and take more time with creative choices. 

    With some of my newer work, taking my time is ingrained in the process from the start. I'm moving with a directed kind of intention that's different from how I've worked for years. There's still the push/pull of formal elements and still plenty of surprises along the way, but I feel like I'm taking the scenic route instead of the expressway. I'm finding that in taking more time for the act of painting I'm feeling less anxious about the work and process. I love my fast-paced, loose way of making work, but sometimes it gets to be too much with having my energy on 10 + so much. So, for the time being, I'm breathing deeper, painting slower and enjoying this new process. 

    Most of all, I'm realizing that it's ok to take my time now. In years past, when I worked at a day job, I was forced to make the most of any time that wasn't spent working. It meant that sometimes, I only had maybe an hour and-a-half to paint so I often worked as fast as I could. I got good at it and had quite a few successful paintings and other things come out of those years. Since 2020, I've had the fortune of not working somewhere and I'm just now beginning to see an alternative to the sometimes frantic way I was in the studio before. All things come in their time. 

TM

    

In silence

     I like to take a few moments to be silent and express gratitude when  I come into the studio for the day. It really helps to ground me and remind me of all the good things that have come into my life through my actions and otherwise. I had hoped for years to have a larger studio again after having to move from the space at 16 N. 3rd Street back in 2015. I don't like to take things for granted because everything can crumble, turn to dust and disappear in an instant. I worked hard to get here, with help along the way, and I'll never forget that. 

    Since moving here, I've been able to look at my work in a completely different way than I have for the past seven years or so. Just being able to have the room to step back from something and see it in relation to something else that I'm working on a few feet away is truly powerful. I get to walk a few yards away from a painting and can really take my time with letting it live and come into being on it's own terms and not with the crush of all of my other work right on top of it. It's an amazing feeling. 

 TM  

A world unto itself

     There was a point today when I realized that I only left the actual space of the studio to go down the hall and use the restroom a couple of times. Stepping out into the hallway always feels like I'm going into another world. I'm so comfortable in this space and getting into a work groove that it feels like it's own world. I think the last time I felt this way was when I had the studio in Old City, which had a similar vibe to this one. Now that i've been making some work these past couple of weeks, the space feels more like my own world and even more so every day. 

   So far, I've finished one painting (a part of that can be seen in the photo above) and close to finishing a couple of other ones. There's a 48" x 36" painting on canvas that's tacked to the wall that I'd like to stretch soon. I thought that I already had an old set of stretchers ready to go, but the measurement is completely wrong, with one side being 54" long. So, now I have to buy a set of stretchers for it. Not the worse thing, but I thought I was saving myself some money. This is why it's important to make sure to have the correct measurements of anything. I assumed that I had the right sized stretcher frame already, but nope. I'm at a point of moving to finishing touches and adjustments and would like to do that with it stretched. 

    I have a ton of works on paper and I keep making more, just like everything else. I made a bunch of acrylic marker drawings on translucent drafting paper in preparation for using them as layers in new collage/drawings that I want to make. I really like layering the collage elements and drawing/painting in between layers. It works really well on panels because of the flat, rigid surface, but I also like working with it on paper. The only issue with the paper support is that it will curl and warp. I don't really mind that so much, since I can iron the paper once it's had a chance to dry. I also like the imperfections that come along with the paper curling. I'm after a feeling of the work having had a life already, anyway. I'm not precious with any of my surfaces. I want them to feel alive and breathing, not sterile. 

TM