I live through artist eyes in a world of vivid color and abstract shapes. My mind breathes in a transcendent tangle similar to Alice’s Wonderland. My mind perceives people as super-animated, grays as radiant purple, and trees actually dancing.
I dwell in this alternate reality when I paint every day. Regular practice keeps me completely engaged with a living surrealism. Here, blank white canvases are not intimidating, but inviting. Rather than being sucked in by mundane distractions of clothing that goes unwashed and tonight’s dinner potatoes still unbought, I pick up the brush and jump single-mindedly down the rabbit hole.
The Big Jump
When I begin my painting frenzy, the landscape vibrates with invisible brilliance as it plays out across the canvas. While I’m so completely engrossed, it’s a trick to not go overboard. I try to capture raw intensity while keeping it from being distracting. I balance perfection with hodgepodge. As my painting emerges over the next few days, I observe before-unnoticed nuances; this is when I soften overenthusiastic edges, fix unfortunate shapes, and tone down the purples and oranges.
The Wonderland of the Mundane
The magic lives on when I come up for air. I notice exotic tree contours as I drive to the supermarket for tonight’s potatoes. Unusual color combinations insinuate themselves as I fold the wash. Few of my non-painting friends understand my strange consciousness. They call it eccentric. It could be madness.
Sometimes, I find myself staring at a bush or a sidewalk. It’s the color. Or the shadow/light.
If you’re an artist, I’ll bet you know what I mean.
I’ve been excited about creating more impressionistic, even semi-abstract landscapes lately. A foray into sharper lines and brighter color. Diverging from true photographic reality. While I’m still creating plein air paintings that are more realistic, my heart yearns for contemporary minimalist and abstract. So, I’m combining the best of both. I’m now breathing color. Here is one of my new whimsical landscape creations:
Changes… While my roots are in soft impressionism, I’ve been going in the direction of abstract for years. I’ve always appreciated and used techniques of abstract landscapes – painting very high horizon lines, graphic shapes, and unusual compositions. But recently I took a surprising leap into exploration of more abstract forms.
I’d gotten into a rut. Take trees, for example. I’ve done lots of plein air painting, and trees are always there. Trees and more trees. Again and again. They’ve become, well, boring. I desperately needed to find something different to do with trees.
Breakthrough: Out by the marsh painting with friends. I didn’t want to paint another marsh scene. Not another tree. I sat there. I couldn’t paint it. I was frozen in my painting chair as I gazed out on the familiar scene. Then, the trees moved in the wind, as if to say, look again. That moment, I started to really see them. Something changed.
My hand started moving on the canvas. The trees were moving. Fun. I gave them a party. That day, they threw confetti into the wind. They stretched. They danced. And my whole world shifted into something different. I’m seeing in semi-abstract now. And the fun begins again.
This is a new painting that’s in a semi-abstract style. This landscape shows a stormy day at the beach, with a path leading you toward the back. Grasses blowing. Subtle pops of orange and blue.
I call it “The Path”. I have been creating lots of paths in my landscapes lately. I’ve always known that a path is a fabulous way to draw the viewer into the picture. It’s a way to naturally move the eye from the foreground and lead it inward. It beckons the viewer to come closer. Stay a while. Explore the painting. To further pull the viewer in, I added my little “pops” of color, added at the point of interest at the end of the path.
Here’s a brand new painting in my semi-abstract style. You still know they’re trees. But they’re in a new reality landscape, shifted reality. This one shows my little trees having a great party at the bottom, throwing confetti and blowing in the wind.
I call it “new way” for two reasons – first, because it’s a new way of my looking at the world – in a semi-abstract way. Second, because the path, or road, in the painting will take the viewer, or the traveler a new way into the distance, through color and light and pattern.