From Grandma Girlie

My Grandma Girlie gave me a poem she found when I was in my teens. I read it over and over and over through the years. It popped into my head again as I was planning my new project See Taste, and needed some reassuring. I realized that it has become a part of me, it has lead me and formed me into who I am. Here it is:

To Dare

To laugh is to risk appearing a fool.
To weep is to risk appearing sentimental.
To reach for another is to risk involvement.
To expose your ideas, your dreams before a crowd is to risk their loss.
To Love is to risk not being loved in return.
To Live is to risk dying.
To believe is to risk failure.
But risks must be taken because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing.
The people who risk nothing,
do nothing, have nothing, are nothing.
They may avoid suffering and sorrow, 
but they cannot learn, feel change, grow, love, live.
Chained by their attitudes, they are slaves, they have forfeited their freedom.
Only a person who risks is free.

A poem I read - Girlie

About Life and Death

I heard ”Painting is Dead” for the first time, but not the last time at Art School while majoring in Painting. 

Hmm, I thought, how odd, I’m painting. I’m painting new stuff all the time and it does not seem dead. Does anyone else acknowledge this form of Art anymore and if not, does that make it nonexsistent? Can this be true, or am I living in a fantasy world, as I have often been accused? This very well, could be the case, though I don’t know that I mind. I like my world.

Hmm, I thought and kept on painting and combining Painting with Installation Art, Performance Art, Sculpture and Photography. 

Painting still remains in my means of artistic expression and is alive and well, in my world anyway.

This may be true of our own existence. If we believe one exists and does not seem dead, even if it is only within our own world, within our fantasy or memory, then that being is alive and well, in our world anyway.  

Creating and Accountability

”Art is what the Artist declares and presents as Art...if it is truely believed to be Art and presented as such by the creator, then it truely is Art.” I have previously stated. This notion can leave the viewer feeling powerless or frustrated if they do not see it as Art, with my definition still aknowledging it as Art. If we, the viewers set up an acceptable framework or boundaries in our definition of Art, we thereby sensor and limit the creative process. In order to carry the development of Art forward we must leave the definition open to the creator.

 Let’s go back to the creator or presenter of the Art, the Artist. With this open-ended definition of Art there comes responsibilities, risks and consequences which the self-claimed Artist must take. The work presented may not be successful, may fail, may be illegal, could be misunderstood, may not be relevant to anyone. The Artist is at fault, responsible, guilty, misunderstood or irrelevant. The Artist is and shall be held accountable, while bearing in mind, without the open right to name Art, we cannot freely develop and create.

Between Beige and Gray

That space between Beige and Gray, I love. In the studio, I find myself emerged in color, attracted to the balance between warm and cool. The closer to the boundary I become, the more intrigued I am. 

I am interested in pushing low saturated color as far towards the neutral boarder as possible and in showing both sides of that border, the one side being barely cool, the other being almost undetectably warm. When these two color fields are found next to each other they enhance each others delicate beauty. With care and attention one can discover the subtle difference between them. 

Defining Art

What is Art? What qualifies as Art? Art is what the Artist declares and presents as Art. It is, thereby Art. This is not necessarily to say that it is good Art, legal Art or successful Art, yet, if it is truely believed to be Art and presented as such by the creator, then it truely is Art.

Sometimes the viewer may have doubts or worries of being deceived, feeling that the so called Artist can not be serious or is just trying to make money. They may put their minds to rest and know that to choose to make Art or become and Artist is not an economically motivated choice. The likelyhood of much Art produced even being seen is a long shot. Art is made because someone believed in it; believed it to be Art.

Balancing Act

I have always balanced my professional artistic career with teaching. It can be tricky and I sometimes doubt my balancing skills, but so far, I have come out standing and am still creating new work.  

I am in the middle of a teaching term at the moment and find that the rythm of the school year both stimulating and challenging. I like the feeling of project work/seasonal work. I also like the test of my fundamental skills in my field. I need to know it inside out in the classroom and I take this confidence with me into the studio, when I get there. It is an interesting combination; let us continue to see how these worlds influence one another.  

Green’s Philosophy on Creativity

Creativity is born from Creativity. Take one creative notion and this is the grounds for ten more. It is in this place, where the next ideas come from. It ”just happens” here. Dive in and follow where the process leads.

My Hate Color

The complex world of color captivates me. I have long studied color theory and application of it, fasinated by the relationships colors have with each other. For instance, the fact that colors can maximize intensity to one another and the same colors have the power to neutralize one another.

As I worked practically with color, I found there were some nuances that I hated, especially one in particular. How strange, I thought, to have such an emotional response to a color. I know that color is relative. Any color can be made beautiful by what surrounds it. Likewise, any color can be made disharmonic by what surrounds it.

So, I set up a goal to work with my Hate Color until I could make peace with it, make it beautiful in it’s surroundings and truely challenge my use of color. For over ten years I ended up painting over it. Then I started leaving small slivers of it peeking through from a layer of paint below. Sometimes, today, I choose to work with it and feel that it is now an accepted relative to the rest of my palett.

Sharing Research

I have been working with a new artist colleague I found in Kyrkhamn, on an in-depth look at the materials we have experimented with and what results you can achieve. To have a dialogue with someone about canvas priming, surface quality and material research based on over twenty years experience enthralls me. We can speak on this subject, showing tests and notes and results to no end. Here’s an encaustic recipe I use: 

1 dl beeswax, bleached
1 t. or chip of Carnauba wax (hardener)
1.5 dl turpentine 
1 glass jar with lid

Melt both waxes in a clean jar placed in a pot of water over medium heat. Never heat wax directly over heat, due to fire risk. Remove from heat when wax is fluid. Let cool 5 minutes. Add turpentine to wax, close with lid tightly and allow to cool. You now have a paste that can be mixed with oil paint. May be warmed in a water bath for a more pliable application.

Linseed Oil

The smell of oil paint on my hands is like reconnecting to myself… to my soul.

I have been back in the studio after my vacation and picked up where I left off. I had four pieces waiting for me and a few notes/sketches scribbled down next to them to guide me back to where I was headed.

The painting didn’t go that great, I may have even created more work, but I took it in stride, remaining calm, knowing that this is part of the process of painting (Not always the case). 

Anyway, it was time to quit; I washed my brushes in terpentine and then olive oil soap, then washed my hands. Then, for some reason, I smelled my hands, I guess to make sure they were clean and to not get oil paint all over on the way home or perhaps I was looking for reconnection on some level. The old familar smell of linseed oil on my skin filled my senses. It is a round, deep smell that sinks into the skin and has the ability to transport me. Maybe not so much transport me, but rather to ground me into the depths of my self.

In that inhalation, I innately knew what I was doing, why I was doing it and what I’ve always known about me and paint.

My Environment

Is it me or is it my environment? I am working in symbiosis with my surroundings. I am encircled by symbols that I have used for over twenty years, such as water and fish. Last week our cousin's child was baptized at the water's edge in front of my studio. They came to me with this request and it really got me thinking about what we attract to ourselves, as I saw the baby dressed in white, the water, the sign of the cross. I have found a home in Kyrkhamn (translated Church Harbour) where my studio lies, or it has found me.

A New Whiteness

I discovered a new "whiteness" in the hallway at my studio the other day; a swarm of children were ready to harvest honey from our Nature School's beehives.

In January I wrote about my affection for the white environment surrounding me and found it to be a strong influence in my work. It's interesting to see the color and forms change around me as Spring has sprung, yet I look for color and form to hold onto, resisting change.

Already April

The ice on the lake seems to be glowing. It is an awesome sight, really. Almost as if it is glowing from within. The sun has been shining, yet the temperatures remain low. Hence, the winter ice brilliantly refuses to leave the Spring landscape.

And as I took in the sheer magic of the glowing lake, I thought, soon it will quite literally disappear. Finally, the rain has swept in creating cracks and holes of negative space in the ice.

My work is coming along nicely. Felt pleased with the photos of my soft sculptural work. I backlit the soft transparent white sculpture giving it a luminous look. What you can do with light. The negative forms appear like cracks or holes adding contrast. 

I do not paint landscapes much anymore… or do I?

Power Tools

I love power tools! Ah, an electric drill in my hand and the scent of sawdust is somehow empowering. Today's work in the studio started with drilling and sanding wood for new "Modern Icons" with the sun shining in and Moby blaring in the background. ​ I changed the CD today, something I rarely do, to something appropriate for drilling. I was looking for Alicia Keys "Superwoman" for that girl-power feeling, but she isn't at the studio at the moment, so I found Moby did the job nicely. Try "Find My Baby".

February 14, 2013

Happy Valentine's Day! And with that thought usually comes visual images of hearts and warm shades of reds, rose and pink. Not this year, I am still surrounded by "whiteness" in my snowy landscape at my studio with a view of reflected light on the frozen lake. Still dominating my sense of color and form, still refreshing. 

I think I can find Valentine here too, an elegant interpretation of pureness. That is love, isn't it?

Up and running

I am finding the "whiteness" of my winter environment refreshing in my visual input of influences in my work. It simplifies and cleans up the palette, yet I find the snow softening and sometimes complicating the form.

I like the minimalism that I get from this landscape and find anxiety wanes, as it calms me visually.