Tuesday, August 28, 2007

My Bones are Good...


A new 4'x3' painting; mixed media on baltic birch board.
This piece is for my upcoming invitational exhibit, "The Bones Show"
in October. Although this composition looked great as a small
sketch, the large version was too disjointed....too crowded.

Allright fellow artists, I'm finally back to blogging about art!
Cycling has to take the back burner to my exhibit commitments
this fall, regardless of the fact that I didn't do my Century ride.

Sometimes, that's just the way things shake out.
I don't like it! It's frustrating to have trained for 8 weeks,
then be unable to do the big goal ride. My whole plan was
to be able to bliss out on riding for a couple of months,
accomplish my first Century, then put my ass in the studio
to get some serious work done.

So is life....sometimes.




The initial sketch of a cleaner, less jumbled format.
Just using images of rib bones this time---excluding the
scapula, femurs and jaw bones.




Charcoal rough sketch brushed off and a final sketch laid
in with graphite. You can see all of my inspirational objects
on the floor behind the easel.....




Laying in the underpainting.

What is always fascinating about making art is the way
the process is a two-way communication. Sure, I am
directing the art, making very concious choices, but there
is also an element of listening to what the painting says it
needs. So far, this one is speaking loud and clear, as paintings
so often do when they are fresh and new.

My challenge is in listening to the painting in the right way, to
make sure the messages get through. Always listening....
Sometimes the painting can tell me what it wants right up front.
Sometimes, I have to push the painting to the back wall of the
studio and get some distance.....(occasionally, I've had to carry
a painting downstairs and outside to set on the front porch, then
run out into the driveway to get a good 20-30 feet on it....)

If the painting can't tell me what it wants clearly, I take it that
it has a secret, hidden message. This entails getting a mirror and
pointing it over my shoulder to see the painting in reverse.
It works wonders.....the composition shows itself to be
remarkably off-center and unbalanced, usually. The Mirror
Method shows things I've done with the painting that I didn't
know were there. I love it.

I'm spending about 6-8 hours in the studio a day.
Cycling taught me a lot about disciplining my time.
Making the shift into serious studio work hasn't been
very easy, but now that I'm over my real grief about the
loss of my century ride, I'm able to concentrate.

Lotsa art to make.

6 comments:

Jill said...

Beautiful bones.

It's interesting to read your take on your artistic process. Very enlightening, really.

Good luck on the studio work. Lots of saddle time of the other kind to put in now, eh?

bugheart said...

i agree,
your bones ARE
so good.
i love
the new subject-
so you...
and i have heard
the mirror trick
but never tried it...
i need to do that.
i love your process...
thanks so much
for sharing it!

Riverlark said...

Eero, it will be fascinating to watch you develop this painting. I'm always curious about the artist's process. Thanks for sharing this!

bike&beer said...

i must say that, as much as i love cycling, i missed seeing your art works in progress! looks great... maybe because i don't have an artistic mind, it always fascinates me that people can "create". oh, and i also can't wait to see the results of synthesis!

sara t said...

Hey, at least one of us is doing what we're supposed to! For me, the most pressing thing is always the last thing I want to deal with.

Now that I have high speed internet in Dawson (who would think that you go to Dawson to get DSL and plumbing. . .) I finally looked at your blog.

I plan to spend some time along the river looking for "tree bones" to start my pieces.

Like you, riding is yielding to art, though I am having fun poking around new territory by bike.

BookGirl said...

E, I'm fascinated with your "mirror technique." Makes a great deal of sense, but I never would have thought of it.