Showing posts with label circa 1883. Show all posts
Showing posts with label circa 1883. Show all posts

07 January 2012

Wander This World

WTW: 16" x 12" watercolor on Arches 2012
To view enlarged, right click image to open in a new tab.
 Rewind to 2010.  One day we will look back on that year and wish we were still so free and easy.  Meanwhile, this memory came from a panorama of digitals taken while waiting for the tow to pick us up, me and the rock-buggy. It was, as you can figure out, a very long wait since they were coming from a faraway town veering into the empty, meandering desert, aka, the middle of nowhere.  But there was a lot of ground to cover, strange vibes, the bizarro oxymoron of a huge cattle corral next to the tracks leading to a decrepit slaughterhouse in the heart of the Central Valley, aka Breadbasket of the World.  You might have seen some of the photos from that trip, I was calling it Breakdown in the Badlands back then.
In reality, this is another part of a decade long series that begins with Transmontane, We Come with the Dust and Go with the Wind, All Things Must Pass and includes Hell for Bad Cows, Oranges Everywhere and many more. And yes, there really are many more to come because the one thing that keeps me in this state filled with self-proclaimed fruits and nuts is the scenery, ancient because it became what it is today before we were even a thought in our parents' child minds. What it was - is not what it is - anymore, but there are still  plenty of parts around the 'hood where distant night drums carry spirits.  I wonder what those spirits are feeling when they see what the white man has wrought?  Rather than presume what spirits feel, feeling what we really feel is being open to receiving the spirits' messages.  It is an ominous beat with an uplifting bridge.

When the jeep started a little rattle under the hood, I was told I'd thrown a rod and was especially irritated because I would not be able to finish listening to Johnny Lang's, a rockin', then 17 year-old Minnesota bluesman's CD: Wander This World.  A full year and a half later, I hear it all the time and love it still.  Genius with heart.

... I'm like a ghost some people can't see
Others drive by and stare
A shadow that drifts by the side of the road
It's like I'm not even there

And I'll wander this world, wander this world
Wander this world, wander this world all alone

Well I've never been part of the game
The life that I live is my own
All that I know is that I was born
To wander this world all alone, all alone ...

16 April 2010

Farm in Fog to False Spring - the transition

False Spring
watercolor inks on Arches
24" x 18"

2010

False Spring aka Farm in Fog came to be after seeing it in person on a chilly February afternoon, in light rain and grey mist. I pulled out the digital and began the first phase of my system: Photos, thoughts, more thoughts, stare at photos, bring back the memory and feel again how it felt emotionally and physically finally masking off the Arches paper and get down with my friendly plain old Number 2 pencils.

As the drawing developed I became enchanted with the chimney, you'll note it is a corner arrangement likely opening into a kitchen fireplace for warmth and cooking, with another, maybe smaller fireplace in the sleeping quarters. There was no propane tank to be seen anywhere in the real life version. I so like the idea of one corner chimney for two separate, but similar needs.


The stages of development shown here are in order, there are many more photos, but these are the most "postable" of the total group that define each of the phases involved. I like the second stage very much, before it is placed in a specific geography, it could be Nantucket, that could be an ocean beyond the shed, it could be a "lonely somewhere" Edward Hopper might have thought to sketch. Its always like that after the drawing part, before more saturated color and background details are applied giving it life and a place uniquely its own.




My favorite time is when the unexpected occurs which is typical of watercolor no matter how often you work with it. You get to know a bit about how to control it if it is your main medium, but its always got something new to show you. There are a lot of artists who like to know their medium's limits, which is good, it allows them to preview mentally their statement. Personally, I prefer the way watercolor insists you solve the situation at hand, relentlessly, you must surrender to it and rule it simultaneously, knowing ultimately it will have its way and you will be okay with that.

There is something else about choice of medium that should be mentioned. Whatever "medium", and we will use that term meaning vehicle for expression, you or I use, does not really matter. Its just another way to say the same things said frequently in a more descriptive language - as in music or literature, poetry, philosophy, film, theater, three dimensional art and so forth. It might be that whatever is closest to you at the moment you get serious about what you have to do to survive within the journey of our common humanity is the medium of your surrender and most frequent use, since through it you have learned to speak a nonverbal language that communicates on a higher plane than common words strung together for conversational coherence.

Now its starting to look something like the original intent, but there is more to be done. Its good to put it aside a few days and do something else unrelated, so that when you return you are seeing it new all over again and forced to revisit your mind's eye. What can you do to satisfy all the criteria remaining true to the original vision while adding your own take to the mix? The days and hours spent focusing on other things, issues, people, chores, studying Nature, wildlife, walking, collecting rocks and feathers, reading, have their impact too. Sometimes you don't see it until revisiting the completed work, months, sometimes years, far into the future. Suddenly, you will remember other things that were happening at the same time you were painting. Its unavoidably another part of the image, the you part, the artist and the events, near and far, that took place while you worked.

You'll know instinctively when your task is finished and the criteria met. I usually place it on the mantle and live with it for a while. This is usually when a different title occurs because a transformation has taken place. The ending of the transformation is almost as good as the middle which is as good as the beginning.

Finally, off comes the masking tape and it's slowly X-acto-ed from the Arches watercolor block, signed and dated. Simultaneously another one has already begun. It is most productive to have several going on at once, then you can paint while the others are drying.

18 June 2009

Spirits Upstairs


Watercolor on Arches
16" x 12" 2003

17 June 2009

Indian Wonder


Watercolor on Arches
16" x 12" 2003

07 June 2009

The Brief Window of Opportunity

Watercolor on Arches
10.5" x 10.5" 2009


I am hungup on authentic things, things that last and were loved in the creation so much so they were painstakingly constructed to extend through generations of others who would love them too. And then, you live forever through other people's happiness.


This one was done specially for Stacy. Indeed it is political, done at the time everyone was realizing our brief window of opportunity was closing fast, if not already closed, as the first 100 days morphed into more of the same. Even as I write these words, it grows dorsal fins with stealth radar.

06 June 2009

Work is Never Done



Watercolor on Arches
16" x 12" 2003

This is posted for NOTA, the self-professed boards fan. I will put it up in a higher res as soon as I sift through the cds.
love, Outchon

Update: here is the original.

04 June 2009

Talking to the Sun


Watercolor inks and guache on Arches
16" x 12" 2009