Meaning in Randomness

Pink Embrace, Pen and Ink, Acrylic. 4" x 4" 2014

I was lucky enough to take a couple of classes at the Artisan's Expo at Buffalo Thunder (near Santa Fe) last week. The class that really piqued my interest was Kumomi: Finding Meaning in Randomness. The title says a lot, doesn't it? Kumomi roughly means "cloud watching" and is meant to be a contemplative approach to mark making. But I also think it is exciting to be making connections out of chaos on a page!

Sunrise, Pen and Ink, Acrylic. 4" x 4". 2014

The basic technique begins with making free and colorful paintings on cards (or gesso board- we used both; all about 4" x 4"), with no particular direction in mind. It's harder than it seems to just let the paintbrush swipe across the page without a plan... I couldn't help but attempt a certain balance in color and shape, but the idea is to let go and let the paint just be on the card. Moving quickly, most of us in the class got through over a dozen cards in a short amount of time. The paint we were using was new to me- but, WOW do I like it. It's a super high-flow acrylic, so it goes on like ink or liquid water color, keeps its color intensity, and is waterproof. So much fun!

Interestingly, we all had different interpretations of the methodology, which I suppose is to be expected. One woman, working across from me at the table, seemed unable to let go of the control during the painting. She took significantly longer to complete the painting step, managing in the end to have little paintings already created, before adding the pen drawings. They had a beauty, of course, but my own interpretation of the philosophy behind this technique is to learn to let go of that level of control, and know that it will turn out beautifully in the end (without a plan) anyway. And on the same token, another women working across from me was particularly harsh in her criticism of her own work, calling her paintings, "ugly little things," and cynically "hoping for the best" when she started drawing. To shoot down her own random paint marks was rather self defeating at the outset, I think, and not at all what the intention of the workshop was about.

After allowing the freedom of random paint, including dripping and melding and flowing– or even using a straw to blow the paint into spatters and wild shapes– to open up the blankness of an empty piece of paper, we took to it with pen and ink to fill in the white space. With no preconceived notions, the pen transforms the negative space into something with presence. An artist (or practitioner of any sort) can leave a certain ambiguity filled with shape and line and beauty, or she can find some sort of meaning in the random shapes and colors. In my experience with Kumomi thus far, I can't help but have my own thoughts and images sneak through the apparent chaos. Developing a concept in visual form from what appears at first to be meaningless is quite empowering, actually!

Kumomi Monster and Tank by Rhys, age 8

Of course, part of the beauty of this technique is that anyone can do it. My son, 8, jumped right in and illustrated one of my cards, including finding a monster in the middle. He was satisfied with leaving some white space, which was something I was finding hard to do. We can all learn from each other!

Tiny Tangles

I did some tiny tangling yesterday, resulting in some new jewelry! I have wanted to do something with pretty glass tiles, and it finally occurred to me that tiny tangles would be the answer.

I did a series of tangles to fit the size of the glass (1 inch square), and scanned, printed, and hand colored a couple with color pencils. They are then adhered to the back of the glass with dimensional lacquer. With a bale and a cord for the necklace, it's a beautiful pendant!

 

I also tried the necklace style on the left (above), but I like the glass pendant a lot more. The colored tangles also add another dimension, which is nice.

In a couple of days I'm headed to the Santa Fe Artisan's Expo at the Buffalo Thunder Casino, which I'm really looking forward to! I'm taking two workshops and will be watching many demos and ogling lots of art supplies. I should probably leave the Visa at home...

This Used to Be a Landscape

I missed the lunar eclipse this morning, but I think it was cloudy, so even if I had actually woken up at 4:45am, I couldn't have seen it anyway... Instead, I slept through it. ;-)


As part of a New Year's-ish resolution a few years ago, I decided to focus on finishing projects. I have an inordinate number of half-finished sewing projects and fabric, yarn, paintings and general crafty supplies sitting around. Having to pack it all up and move it across town this summer, I not only realized just how much I have, but how easy it is to have it "out of sight, out of mind." Now that I have everything stored in my studio, I am facing some of the piles and boxes. Over the last several years I've developed my purging muscles to the point that I can be somewhat ruthless: I don't like storing unnecessary things, even if they have sentimental value (really, do I need to save a lump of clay my two-year old squeezed? Absolutely not). Art has been more difficult to toss, however.


Several weeks ago, I had a small burst of inspiration. I have a couple of stretched canvases sitting around with unfinished paintings on them– a couple are at least a decade old (what!?!!? Why has a 12 year old canvas with an unfinished painting on it taken up storage space in my life??). I know I'll never get back to finishing the paintings on these canvases, but the canvas is too stiff to make into Artist's Buckets. They need to be repainted!

It just so happened, I was making more canvas for more Artist's Buckets, so I had splashy paint and the desire to fling it around. In the case of the old painted canvas above, I actually poured and spread the paint instead of dripping and flinging, which was also quite satisfying. I wasn't sure where I was going to begin with, but decided to not entirely obliterate the base painting so that in the end it could show a certain evolution of the art on it. After the paint was dry, I hit on the idea of juxtaposing the traditions of landscape and portraiture on one canvas and thus: This Used to Be a Landscape.


But here's the thing about storing all those bits and pieces as they devolve past their prime: they are no longer pristine. Whether it's the fabric that is stained or the plastic that becomes brittle, the stored things degrade. As did this canvas situation. We haven't owned cats in years, yet this canvas had been marked at some point in our cat-ownership. As I worked on the canvas, there was the unmistakeable odor of cat urine– one that cannot be scrubbed out of anything once it's there, in my opinion.

So,  we have a new piece of yard art! It's the first fence art we've had, and now that it's there, I might add more in the years to come. It brightens up a somewhat dreary fence and adds color, especially on this cloudy morning. It's a talking piece, too– the dishwasher repair guy asked about it, though he wondered if we'd had a fight and I'd splashed paint on a portrait of my husband in retaliation...

Well, the piles aren't diminishing as I type, so I'm off to do more project finishing!