Showing posts with label ink on oriental paper. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ink on oriental paper. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Zen Drawing, July 7, 2010



"In the narrowest meaning of the concept, it is touch, after all, that I am after in my work. Through the touch of my hand I hope to find transmitted into something that touches the spirit." --Ann Truitt, Day Book

These drawings, that I call Zen Drawings, are from a series of drawings I did when I was in transition from one series to the next. I remember in my early years, I was told I moved too quickly from one series to the next. But because I have always worked everyday, I am able to investigate many ideas about a series, fairly quickly. Then in 1991, I began a series based on the grid, and stayed with that series for a very long time, and even find myself returning to it from time to time. I think I have said everything, and then something else comes into my mind.

I am in the process....slowly, of photographing and trying to inventory my work. But it takes time.

Today, I look out on the mesa and I see lines; roads, pathways, and wildlife trails. I will see lines made of wire strung on fences and telephone poles. I might look up and see vapor trails; white against a clear blue New Mexico sky. Linear symbols are scratched on rocks by early man; drawing is everywhere. Drawing is a human activity which does not have to be learned; it is a global visual language.

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Tuesday July 6, 2010



I was able to paint yesterday. And as I worked I realized my mind seemed to go "exploring." It seems to be a bit like fishing. Ideas are swimming around and I am just barely aware of them, and while I work my "hook" snags them, I can pull them to the surface and examine them. I am aware at this moment, my mind was making preparations for the next work I will do. And at the same time, I saw that fish (idea) swim bye. It seems that painting is a multi layered activity, it might be an intense concentration on what I am doing, memory, or planning the future.



The poppies come and
go so quickly in the Desert.
The colors are brilliant,
And before you know it,
They fade.

The light is the same,
Or the lizard on the wall,
Sometimes I feel wistful,
to know that there is
nothing that lasts for long.

The Desert and life
force you to be
present in the moment,
For if not, you will
miss the whole thing.

Sunday, July 4, 2010

Sunday Morning July 4, 2010



I have been at my desk all morning, trying to clear the clutter. I did get to paint for a little while yesterday, and hope to again today. As soon as I find the wooden top of my desk, and get all unfinished business cleared away. It is order that I seek, how can I go forward with all this clutter? I feel a little bit like Alice, lost in the rabbit hole, so much to do, so much to do....or is it the Mad Hatter?

I have a collection of my own little thoughts. I often write down my thoughts when I am working to express what I am feeling or thinking in the moment.

Space broken freely,
Frees the view in front of me,
Frees the view I do not see,
Frees the memory locked up tight inside of me.

I am working again with oil. Since it is so dry in New Mexico the oil usually sets up over night. I haven't worked in oil for some time. I love working in gouache for so many reasons; the paint is so beautiful, it dries quickly, it isn't too messy, and when you do get it on your clothes it will wash out. I am afraid when I work in oils, I am messy, it gets on my hands and I then take it everywhere I go, and leave my trail behind carefully marked with the oil paint from my fingers. I really try to be careful, but if you will follow the carefully marked trail you will find me.

I plan to celebrate this 4th of July, dinner with friends, and watching the fireworks put on by our town of Taos. They are usually quite beautiful. I feel a tightening in my stomach, because of the destruction in the Gulf, and I know all,-- human, animal and plant life,-- that live on the Gulf, are not celebrating as their lives are destroyed. And it will never be the same. I spent so much of my life on the Gulf Coast and love it so, I cannot help but grieve. And now we have only to wait, to see if that oil will ever stop, and then the clean up...I fear this destruction will be felt for the the rest of recorded time.

Not Just A Cup

  Not Just a Cup       Southern born Not a tea drinker Always coffee For me   Although I often find  Bitter taste Of the dark brew A bit muc...