Opening Doors of Creative Perception

In the last episode our hero had put aside her sensible, test everything carefully approach to art making, and, instead, had embarked  on a let’s-just-make-it-up-as-we-go course of action. Specifically the task was to try and save the white space on the substrate with the stinky, ammonia  based masking fluid watercolourists use. Acrylic paint was put over the mask, the mask peeled off and then the whole thing run through the printer. The idea was that the printed colours would print onto a white background instead of over the acrylic paint, thus the colours would be brighter.

Did it work? That depends on how you define work. Some of it worked and some of it didn’t work. In the process of fixing the parts that didn’t work, more doors opened up. Years ago I was struggling in therapy about which of a number of paths to pursue – art, writing or teaching. I felt I was in a long hallway with many doors. I worried that if I chose one, I would cut myself off from all the other options. The therapist wisely said, “Oh but when you enter a new room, many more doors will appear.” So here are more doors, more ideas.

I always forget until I’m doing it again, that the creative process itself is where the ideas come from. It is while I am trying to solve a visual problem that I come up with a new and different idea. I almost hate to say this, but I need the problems, so that I can find the new solutions, and thus the new images.

In this case the masking fluid worked on large, blocky shapes, but not on skinny lines because printer registration is an inexact science. So I have come up with a number of different solutions to first, fix the places where the registrations was off and second, to do it better and differently next time. For the former I have both over-painted and over-printed (though some new problems have arisen with both of these). But the latter solution is a radical new approach – paint, then photograph the painting, then make the image in the computer, then print the whole new image! Why, you ask, would I paint to begin with? Why not just paint digitally and forgo the mess and time of analog paint? Because there is a depth to the layers of colour and an aliveness to the brush strokes that is easier to get with acrylic paint than digital. Anyway it is more fun.

Throwing Caution to the Wind

By painful experience (the kind that really teaches!) I have learned that I have to test my materials. Last week I tested whether gold iridescent InkAid (the magic goop I use to print digital inks on top of acrylic paint) that has been shaken and let settle for 24 hours produces less bubbles on application than Ink Aid that is just shaken and used immediately. (It does, so now there are no little burst bubbles all over my artwork.) I tested which of my various acrylic gels and pastes that call themselves clear, actually are clear when I make textures on top of paint instead of cloudy. (Clear modeling paste turns out not to be clear – Grrr.) Previously I tested various finishing substances to protect my artwork from UV rays and abrasion, but now I want to do those tests again with new products as the one I used before is a dreadfully toxic aerosol and who wants to do that. The list of tests done and tests yet to be done goes on, but I think you get the picture.

I’m careful to make sure that I’m only testing one thing at a time. I have a little black book in which I write down what I’m testing and in red pencil I write what the result was. After I get the result, I write down what the next tests should be. I feel I should be wearing a white lab coat and have a clipboard. When I do these tests I feel very grown up and sensible.  However the problem with testing is that  it can go on forever. There is always another variable to consider. I really ought to. . .  And I get tired of ought tos. I’m in this game to see new pictures.

So today I took the other path, the one that throws caution to the wind. I just jumped in and did it and I’ll find out later this week if it is going to work or not. This was way more fun. I used the masking fluid that watercolour painters use to mask out the shape of my tree before I painted wild acrylic paints over top. Then I took the mask off and now the stylized tree looks all beautiful in white silhouette surrounded by a yellowy-green world. WooHoo!  But it might not work. (But I don’t care right now!) Tune in next week to find out what happened.

One Thing Leads to Another - Part 1

I decided to change the sizes of my pieces for my upcoming Tree of Life show. Somehow as an artist one always wants to go bigger. My Vision – BIG! But there are the size limitations of my wide format printer (it had seemed so big!) and then the limitations of the framing/stretcher system I use. And big is scary. Mistakes are bigger mistakes – waste of materials and money, the effort chalked up to Learning Experience rather than a finished, satisfactory piece. But I’m ready to go up a notch.

So I plan for the new sizes. New sticks for the stretchers to be bought. New ¼ in. masonite templates to be made so that when I cut the substrate –pellon– the corners will actually be right angles (measuring exactly is embarrassingly hard!). Then I realize (after I’ve already asked my friend to cut the masonite) that  I need new work boards. These are boards I use to tape the pellon on while I add my various goos, gels, paints and potions. Because they all need time to dry between coats,  I tape the pellon to work boards so that I can move them easily around the studio. Bigger pieces means bigger work boards. So Kind Friend cuts the new work boards. There I am wrapping them in plastic when it occurs to me that the new boards are so big they won’t fit in the board storing slot in the shelving system. My huge, fabulous, organized studio and where are these going to live? Sigh.

It would have been so much simpler to stay with the same sizes. I think I’ve planned so carefully, but one thing leads to another. The boards are going into a temporary shelter. I’ll solve their permanent housing the next time I do a studio reorganization. For now it’s on with The Show and with whatever other unknowns are lying in wait for me down the path. 

Tripping Out on Canoes and Art

This week I started my new project – Tree of Life. I’m thrilled and terrified – all at the same time. I have a show opening on July 8 in the Toronto Distillery District. Eight weeks ‘til ShowTime!

So what do I know about the project? I know that I’m mixing  acrylic paint and textures with digital printing. I know that my initial subject is Trees. I know that I’m using iridescent InkAid (& iridescent paint) – shiny! I know that once again I’m working on pellon – that heavy, acrylic non-woven fabric used by the upholstery industry as facing for furniture.  I know my four sizes (+ one big one). I know that I  am working in Illustrator,  though of course Painter and Photoshop are always in the mix too.

I don’t know if I have time to do the paper collage thing I want to do. I don’t know if I’ll move past the trees to mix the images with bones or faces. I don’t know exactly what the trees are going to look  like. Most of all I don’t know where this journey is going to take me visually.

So this is the beginning of the journey – trying to find order in the chaos: planning the route, figuring out the drop off and pick up. What to take – is there going to be rain? snow? heavy sun? How bad will the black flies be, the mosquitoes? Can we still do long portages? Any rapids? What level? How high is the water this year? Do we take the dog or not? How do you plan for unknowns?

The creative journey really is a journey. Preparation and packing are just as necessary here as for a canoe trip. What are the parameters of this trip? What area is being explored? This the part I’m doing now. Overview and setting limits.

I woke up excited about it all today. Two days ago I woke up terrified. Who will I be at the end of this journey? How will I see differently?

Sumi-e

It has been an eye opening experience studying a different kind of art form. I’ve been taking a Sumi-e, Japanese ink painting, course at the Japanese Canadian Cultural Center here in Toronto. I wanted to study this so as to gain more control over my brushwork. I want to be more conscious as I used a brush.

The oddest aspect for me is that Sumi-e is taught by imitating set images. So over the 8 weeks the beginners start with an Orchid, move to Bamboo, visit a Plum Branch and end with Chrysanthemum. Collectively these are referred to as the Four Gentlemen. Success is one’s ability to mimic the given image. It is not easy. We are working with a variety of tonal values on the brush. The strokes are very alive – I need just the right amount of pressure and just the right amount of wetness/dryness on the brush. Imitating strokes that already exist certainly enable me to focus on these basics - pressure, tone and wetness. And then my body’s relationship to making the stroke. How I hold the brush and what my intent is.

So I can see many virtues in learning this way – by imitation. There is certainly a tradition of it in Western Art. I have some vague notion of the Old Masters’ ateliers where apprentices learned by imitating the Master’s work. But the odd part for me is that so much of the art I’ve done has focused on the creative aspect of it – the part I make up. Not that I haven’t done technique – ceramics, drawing, Photoshop, digital printing – all have their heavy duty Form portions. After all I preach to my students that technique must be studied and embraced. Nonetheless most of my art journey trumps creativity over technique. You need technique, sure, but it is not an end in itself. I often come across people who like to do very exact drawn copies of photographs and I can never see the point, except for control of one’s medium. The heart of this is that I don’t really believe it is Art if it is just technique. My Art includes a new way of seeing. So it is very odd being around an art form which depends so heavily on imitation.

Here are my versions of the Four Gentlemen: