It is becoming increasing clear that I am artistically restraining myself these days. Working small while thinking big. Making subtle movement while experiencing dramatic energy. Wiggling in the back, like a kitten preparing to pounce.
Well, our kitten is tired of all the photos I make of her and has learned (from our teen and tween daughters) how to get me to put away my camera.
This restraint I’m speaking of isn’t something that leaves me feeling settled and calm. Rather, I am feeling the pent-up energy and motivation in a similar way one might feel leading-up to competing in a sporting event, knowing you are simply there to finish strong and set your own PR. Before an event like this, there’s training which includes a build-up and a taper. I feel I’m in that taper zone, just barely above idle and feeling the pull for race day.
I once jogged a marathon. Even though it was intended as a fundraiser and I had only trained for a few months as someone completely new to running, I could barely sleep the night before. The energy in my body was already in a forward momentum, despite wanting to relish in the pre-race taper period.
How does all of this relate to what is happening in my studio, mind and body now?
After just completing what felt like a marathon in painting (those 9 large-scale paintings), I am gathering what I’ve learned and refining the process and my intentions. Now that I’ve worked at this large-scale, I feel addicted to the physicality and release involved in working at this size. I am holding back on moving forward on a new large canvas because I have a plan.
I have just purchased canvas stretching supplies and am working on some small experiments as often as possible, during the revised summer schedule. A set of stretcher bars are on their way to my studio and I’m so eager. I’ve always wanted to stretch my own canvases, despite the time and muscle involved. I really love the idea of creating every bit of each artwork with my own hands and equipment.
I’m working small for many reasons. I’m waiting for materials to arrive to begin stretching my own canvases, working small is a forced lesson to “strengthen the core” or foundation in my composition and become more deeply acquainted with the bounds and limitations within my mediums before releasing myself onto a larger substrate.
Here are two such small scale pieces I created this week:
This panel used for ‘Rinse Repeat’ was one left unpainted from a small series of cyanotype, encaustic and oil on panels created in 2022. Here is one of the paintings from that series below:
Here is another piece, a soft pastel on watercolor paper, created yesterday. This piece is purely a slow attempt in using soft pastel for the very first time. I’m not sure how these will be incorporated into my upcoming work, but I was wondering about ways to add final detail touches to my large scale pieces that would not remain “open” or non-drying as my beloved oil pastels. I’d also love to learn ways to use these for an upcoming paper series during summer travel
I absolutely love being in the thick of a large canvas painting and can barely think of anything else in life when in that zone. Hovering and balancing above a flat canvas, I adore the way I become enveloped in an environment, not ever able to see the entire image at once. I am able to be an explorer crossing through and interacting with a changing landscape.
My most recent large painting, finished at the end of June 2024, is currently tacked-up on my studio wall. Here it is below:
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