Space

I love exploring art galleries in new cities, navigating the streets and peering into windows. Finding them is much easier with the addition of a smart phone, its infinite wisdom directing you when and where you should turn. The days of holding a paper map with a forlorn lost expression of a tourist is gone.

One of my favorite galleries that I discovered recently in Seattle was Gallery IMA. I was immediately drawn in by the intimate drawings on board that were found on their white walls. Drawings made up of multiple fine lines, meticulously drawn with an architects hand, placed over free-formed, watered-down oil washes.

This photo doesn't quite do the piece justice, as you have to peer close to admire the intricacies and small details that artist Paul Lorenz finds in the oil puddles and shapes that form. The space that he creates in these works though, the depth and the feeling of floating through loose but controlled environments, is astounding. It was hard to leave and pull myself away. I realize that the more I look at art, I am so attracted to work that is, at first glance, simple and about the process more than the product. The attributes of color, space, texture, and composition are more appealing to me than any narrative or recognizable form. It is about a feeling. 

Lorenz has made me want to return home and draw, return to the exploration of 2-d art.

Artist

Moods are so interesting. How they shift and bend, stretch and linger. When in a mood, it is not easy for me to pull myself out of it, although I have tried to learn to observe it and figure out what is at the roots. Good and bad; it is all a case to study. How our minds shift according to the weather, a conversation, a smile, an experience and suddenly we have gone from the depths to cloud nine. Or vice versa.

Today sailed light years ahead of yesterday. Yesterday was filled with doubt and questions and sadness and fear. Today was filled with more assuredness and answers and happiness and confidence. For me, it often has to do with getting out of my head and talking to others. Mother, friend, stranger.

I want to be an artist. I am an artist, but want to push it more, make more work, be more dedicated, sacrifice a little more. It is not an easy path, but one that makes my heart sing more than any other I can dream up. Looking at artists that I admire, seeing their work and their name on vinyl stretching across the white walls of a gallery, I think, I want that, I want that to be me.

Routine and Inspiration

I had an amazing trip to the East Coast, filled with sensory stimulation on all levels. From tasting  Ethopian food to smelling roses, from looking at art galore to listening to the buzz of a city street. And touching everything with either hand, foot, or tongue. The experience was rich and full. The uniqueness of the moments are what I will remember and the people, dear friends and family, that helped make those moments. I was inspired and touched and pushed and allowed to let lose and be invisible in a sea of thousands.

By the end I was ready to come home to my quiet corner of the world, full of so much stimulation and visual imagery. I have found though that with the break has come a forgetfulness of patterns that I value so much. I realize as I get older that I like routines very much, despite hating to admit it and grasping at the image of myself as a spontaneous person. They are a great comfort and provide so much sustenance to me, from writing to meditation to yoga to making art. Lethargy has been hanging over my head since my return to Jackson and the groove that I found myself in before I departed seems to have evaporated. I know that it will return, that it has to be relearned to some degree, but the situation is intriguing to me. Here I was, traveling and seeing the world, seeing other art and artists that moved me, yet part of me just wanted to stay in my routine of life at home, stay in the rhythm that I had found of getting up, taking care of me (and my dog) and then going to the studio to dive into creativity. Working towards the life that is in my dreams, is what it comes down to.

I have been disrupted, for awfully good reasons, and I am about to leave again for another week-long adventure, but there is the part of me that is already looking forward to coming home to continue carving out the path that is my future.