The Art of Celebration

When reading fineartsonline's newsletter this past week, I ran across an article containing a statement that caught my eye and set me to thinking:  'If I believed art was a talent I would have given up long ago,' said Mark Allen Adams. 'The ability to create art is something that is earned through years of constant study and dedication.  It is not a gift given at birth.'  I agree with this statement only to a degree.  In my opinion, one may be given an aptitude or a gravitational interest in the arts, but making fine art takes work, study, commitment, and facing the block of clay, blank canvas or white paper every day.  Making art requires discipline and dedication as well as a willingness to fail over and over again, only to stand back up, brush oneself off and start over with all the confidence and hopefulness to begin again.

I feel that I have always followed creative pursuits in my life, from as early as I can remember (I have drawn from the age of 4).  Thanks to the influence of my sister, Norma Ann Waddill, I was encouraged to express myself freely, step by step, pushing myself and risking the drawing / painting / object.  By doing so, I was able to create something unique.  This is the fuel that has spurred me on.  The mystery of creating something new is a great motivation.  I personally find color to be quite inspiring.  If I add texture and a dose of unpredictability, it becomes very pleasing...actually, it translates into pure joy!

In expressing our creativity, when to we begin to see the world differently...?  I am not sure of the particular day or year that it occurred for me.  I just know that, over time, it happened.  It is only in the past few years that I have steadily progressed, seeing differently, honing my skills to become the artist that I am today.  When I reflect over the time I have spent making art, I realize how little I knew when I graduated from UT's Art School!  By finding a few minutes, if not hours, every day to work in my chosen profession, facing the white paper, I have allowed creating art, often intuitively, to take me to new heights of personal expression as I continue on my creative journey.

I grew up in a family that celebrated many occasions...St Patrick's Day and even Ground Hog Day had a significant place in our household's modus operandi.  However, celebrating birthdays was in its own class!  In my family, one's birthday was more important than Christmas.  I came to think of my special day as a pseudo state holiday of sorts, planning my party, creating a menu, etc., as my celebration generally announced the end of summer, since plans for returning to school soon followed.  Generally speaking, my birthday was a big deal!  I loved everything about it, including getting older. Today, I ignore the years a birthday marks, but find I still love the celebration!

I created a small series called Celebration to honor the traditions I had grown up with surrounding birthday festivities and the very act of celebrating.  Bright, flat color in favorite vibrant hues, painting in shapes that connote happy, jubilant times, I offer these as a testimony to the value of holding fast to the times in our lives when we honor and give attention to the miles we have traveled, the lessons we have learned, and to the progress we have made.

Celebration I

Celebration II


Celebration III

With this post, I honor my parents and the joy they brought to the simplest of days;  my sister for encouraging me creatively;  and my brothers for not raining on my parade, allowing me to celebrate my life to the fullest, one day, one accomplishment at a time. 

This weekend, I celebrate my day and the launching of my new website, Donna W. Goodwin, Fine Art.  Just click here to visit. 

Let's raise our glasses and enjoy...!  L'chaim...to life...!

The Magic of Imagination

In my desire to continue my dialogue regarding imagination, let's explore the magic an artist can effect when applying the concept to visual art.  Dictionary.com defines imagination as 'the faculty of imagining, or of forming mental images or concepts of what is not actually present to the senses'.  For example, when painting plein aire (on location), the artist is often replicating the reality that lies before them, even though in the process they are placing their own 'human stamp' on the visual image.  One of my favorite places to paint plein aire is at Fishermen's Wharf in Monterey, California.  I often find myself, upon arrival, in the city park just adjacent to the Wharf.  The cement tables and benches create an ideal 'easel' for painting in watercolor, with plenty of room for board and palette.

I had painted the Wharf on several occasions, and found it to be a perfect warm-up exercise in creating a quick watercolor sketch.  The vivid colors of the buildings, along with their reflected counterparts, create interesting myriad shapes, colors and textures.  One such watercolor sketch is Fishermen's Wharf, Monterey, created, as cited above, while listening to the barking of the abundant seals and cries of the gulls.  These creatures serenaded the scene and created a vibrant audio backdrop that augmented the visual experience.

Fishermen's Wharf, Monterey

Although this sketch turned out quite pleasing to my eye, I felt remiss that I did not include influences that were unique to that particular location.  So I took a full sheet of Arches 140cp and used my reality sketch as a place to begin.  Monterey is surounded by hilly terrain that is located relatively close to the shoreline and wraps around the Bay.  If one looks across towards Santa Cruz, the mountains are very much in evidence.  They are heavily wooded, adding to the study in constrasts created by the mounains, the sea, the buildings, and the ever-present wildlife.  Monterey Bay, because of its unique depth, is home to a plethora of sea life that is not visible to the casual observer, unless one visits the Monterey Bay Aquarium, located about a half mile from Fishermen's Wharf.  The Aquarium brings the creatures and plant life of the deep sea up close and personal, allowing one to examine their physical attributes.  This beautiful environment is an extremely fragile one, affected not only by the natural elements but by the presence of human life.  Although I do not consider my efforts in representing the non-visible elements to have captured the ambience, imagining the flora and fauna was a magical experience.

Fishermen's Wharf, Monterey (imagined)

Allowing one's imagination to augment reality is playful as well as productive.  It stretches the artistic envelope to include new methods and tools, allowing the creative process to grow.  This can result in works that are less predictable, and much more interesting to look at and to contemplate (as well as to create) because they are filled with so many possibilities...and possibilities are the bread of life...!

Vacations of the Imagination

It's often said that life is what happens when you're busy making other plans.  The reality of life can change those plans in a nanosecond.  When it comes to taking time off and time away, those changed plans are not necessarily welcome.  It can be upsetting and energy-draining.  When reality demands focused attention to details and adapting to new processes and procedures, there's no time to squander on self-indulgent feelings of disappointment.  The desire to take a vacation is still there.  However, for an artist there are solutions.  This is a situation when one takes a vacation of the imagination.  There are a few places in this world that I have visited many times because I find so much comfort in being there.  Northern New Mexico is one of those places.  I can go 'home' to the mountains just by closing my eyes and getting deliciously lost in my memories.  It can be very healing.

In years past, I have been 'called' to the mountains to paint the red landscape just north of Abiquiu.  When I am there, I like to pretend that I am Georgia's cousin -- largely because I feel so at home there.  The painting Red Rocks at Ghost Ranch, while a reality-based plein aire work, is also touched by imagination in the rounded rock shapes.  The reality is the intense blue sky and the unbelievably vivid red of the earth.

Red Rocks at Ghost Ranch

Northern New Mexico is a magical place, blending the cultures of Native American and Hispanic peoples with the incredible beauty of the landscape.  For this gringo of Hispanic heritage, the area proved to be a treasure-trove of newly-found structures which are iconic as well as practical.  One such object is the horno, an adobe oven of Moorish-Spanish origin adopted by Native Americans.  An authentic horno was built at Las Parras de Abiquiu, which I painted one cold early morning in November while sitting on the portal of my casita.  I was very intrigued that it was truly a working oven.  The fact that the Big Red Rock at Abiquiu was directly behind it only added to my desire to paint it.  This is more of a reality painting, with no liberties taken, depicting the horno, the adobe wall, the chamisa and the Big Red Rock in the distance.

Las Parras de Abiquiu -- Horno

One of the most vivid aspects of the northern New Mexico landscape is the way the high elevation makes me feel as if I could reach right up and touch the sky overhead.  In creating the painting Taos Rancho, I visited the adobe church during the holiday season.  New Mexicans keep their decorations to a minimum and hang boughs of evergreens.  The deep green combined with the red adobe is stunning.  They add farolitos (what we would call luminaria), which light up the night.  Unlike cityscapes, the farolitos are the only competition for the stars.  In this painting, I combined the reality of the adobe form with a more vividly interpreted starry sky, so you could say this painting is half-reality and half-imagination.

Taos Rancho

Traveling further into the sphere of imagination, I created Sunrise on the High Mesa as a sign of hope.  Seeking the comfort and solace that I have often found in this landscape, I 'went home to the mountains' in my mind.   This was my answer to my vacation plans evaporating.  This painting is all about color...bright, intense, very alive and spiritually renewing.  As one looks across a plain of rocky terrain and simplifies the form, it's easy to see the landscape in a pattern of color blocks.  This work became a spiritual haven for me, and a promise of better days to come.

Sunrise on the High Mesa

As I visited the Land of Enchantment in my imagination, I did not want to just leave the imagery to the rocks, so I decided to explore my memories of the abundant chamisa that grows everywhere.  It's beauty is unique and changes with the seasons.  I have long been charmed by its form, the rhythm of its wind-driven movement, as well as its fragrance.  I love its organic form and chose to paint it in an attempt to capture its energy and life-force.  When one looks at chamisa, in reality, it may not be noticeable at first blush that it has energy at all.  It's part of the magic of the land 'choosing you' that the interrelationship of the terrain, the vegetation and the natural elements imbue everything with the spirituality that the Native Americans hold so sacred.  I have come to appreciate this view of mankind's relationship with the earth, and it nourishes my soul.

Imagined Chamisa

These paintings rely on varying degrees of what we think of as reality.  Singer-songwriter / graphic artist / intellectual Peter Blegvad explores these very processes, their relationships and their effects on creativity in an essay (click to read) on his website, Amateur Enterprises (click to explore further).  Among his ideas on the subject as he worked with specific images, rendering them through the lenses of imagination, observation and memory, he says... 'Thus, one can only attempt to describe what such an image was like.  Painting and drawing mental images confirms that their nature is less of the order of visual data and more that of abstract knowledge.'  To this, I would like to add an additional thought of his... 'To imagine some more or less familiar thing requires a creative engagement with it, a vision which transforms it and makes it new.'

Some of the objects Peter chose to depict in these exercises are familiar, some are more obtuse.  As an example, he created these representations of a lion...

All of these viewpoints are legitimate and necessary to the creative process.  For an artist, these are essential tools for interpreting the world around us.  For me personally, to exercise a blend of realism and imagination and memory is key to my artistic expression.  Reading Peter's thoughts on this subject have echoed things I have long held as truths.  One of the beauties of being an artist is that as a part of the creative process I am allowed the freedom to interpret and put my personal stamp on the images I create. 

I am grateful for the fact that I can take a vacation of the imagination any day, any hour that I so choose...and I do...!

Art therapy : processing emotions

It has long been discussed in basic art therapy theory that individuals can readily process emotions more effectively by creative measures.  As children, we learned to draw and paint and express whatever we were feeling, how we saw the world, and our hopes for tomorrow.  At this point in our child-life, words were spoken, not written, and therefore any explanation of meaning was naturally more verbal in nature.  Children's creative expressions are image-centered and verbally defined.  As adults, it is often easier to express such things in writing than it is to create a visual image.  Yet therapists will readily tell us that the most effective expression of emotion is a combination of images and words.  As a 'muller' (someone who doesn't make quick decisions or judgements about events and emotions), I personally find that facing the white paper and indulging in the creative process helps me not only determine the factors with which I'm dealing, but to analyze them and find ways to understand them and to work through them constructively.

This past week presented me with just such an opportunity.  As shocking as the news I received was, and as overwhelmed as I felt by it at first, I began to feel it being reduced to a more manageable size almost immediately as I began to 'paint it out'.  All this being said, in retrospect I find it very ironic that the last painting I completed before the events in question presented themselves was a celebration of the love that's been given to me through my life, which surrounds me, fulfills me and gives me courage.  In this painting, this protecting, strengthening love is depicted as a blue shield, guarding my heart and soul from life's tribulations.

Heart Shield

The paint on Heart Shield was hardly dry on the paper before I faced unexpected and unpleasant events, the reasons behind which I will most likely never know or understand completely.  I had already begun a new painting, a floral, with which I was dissatisfied.  After thinking about the day's events and discussing them, I decided to use the bright colors in this painting as a background to jump-start the expression of the turmoil of my feelings.  As I worked, the painting became darker and darker, and I made the decision to add gold to represent what I feel is the presence of a lesson in any situation, good or bad -- sort of a 'ray of hope'.  I call this painting Complexities because these emotions are neither simple nor straightforward.  It was a situation in which I felt the best move at the time was to  'drop back and punt'.  It was suggested to me that a more effective, offensive maneuver might be a 'quick kick'.  One of the things that I appreciated most about the painting was an unintended abstracted figure who is seemingly drop-kicking something (or someone) out of the picture plane.  And, I have to say, it felt really good to see it 'appear' when I needed it most...!
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Complexities

Returning to my comment earlier about the 'ray of hope', I feel that every situation we face presents us with a window of positive opportunity.  In my third painting, the surrounding atmosphere is light and bright, representing our ordinary days of life and living.  Out of the dark vortex of challenges that could easily overwhelm us comes an inner vortex of green, representing this opportunity.  Green is a color that symbolizes possibilities for growth and learning.  Although much of this painting is very dark, the green is calming, bringing to mind new beginnings.

Opportunity

I feel most fortunate that I am able to avoid what might be an unhealthy internalization of emotions, opening my heart and mind to possible solutions.  I have often been called a 'change agent', and this situation, like many others, will wind up opening new paths -- new ways of doing, thinking, and seeing.  For this, I am most grateful.