Today another drawing from a photo, attempting in a slightly abstract way, to capture the glow and the shadow of a bright midwestern morning.
The dynamic nature of clouds, the surface of water, and the motion of cloth along the body are fascinating. They are hard to see, hard to transcribe. Maybe that is why as I get older, abstraction in thought and in form attract me more.
Why do people make art? What are we seeking?
Maybe these almost epistemological questions are why we keep making art. We keep making visual representations of things real and imagined to figure out why we make abstractions of what we see and feel in much the same way that we keep writing about perception, society, and cosmos; biology, mathematics, and physics.
Seeking is perhaps the answer to its own question, as the oft-repeated adage: Life is a journey, not a destination.
Today more play with recession of form into space purely by changing the size of geometric forms, and using diamonds to effect the illusion of light, shadow, and reflection on choppy water.
It feels strained, too bright, yet I chose these colors on purpose.
Many times in art school teachers told me that I should try to use form and function to intentionally manipulate visual content in a drawing. But my strongest work has always had a larger dose of intuition incorporated than intentionality, instantiated by how much tension is created by the contrast between the colors and the ground in this picture.
The bright hopefulness feels right, but it is striking against the dull grey. Perhaps this is a seasonal occurrence, but lately I’ve noticed myself drawn to these bright pastels, as in my rag rug and many of these daily drawings.
I’m also noticing the theme of expanding or depleting forms such as stripes or diamonds to create distance. Maybe I’m thinking like a weaver and knitter. That the fluidity of a rectangle of cloth would add a certain kind of mind-bending flexible dynamism to these motives in the larger body of work that is emerging.
Today a study in not-quite pattern.
When our Art History teacher told us about Mannerist Architecture in my High School Humanities class, I was fascinated. Why would you make a huge building with purposely poor proportional relationships?
Anyway, this non-Palladian mis-match pattern was inspired by that concept.
Most of the art that I make I try to play with pattern and how it creates beauty. From Fibonacci to Fractals, mathematics rhythm can be expressed through symmetry, and in this piece, I try to use almost symmetrical forms drawn free-hand to play with the idea of ideal proportion and mathematical beauty.
Optical illusions have always fascinated me. For Christmas, my aunt got me a magnetic quilt, the visual equivalent of magnetic poetry. Lots of colors, lots of playing, and I’ve been fiddling with the op-art properties of squares and parallelograms. The tiles are isosceles right triangles, so on an octagonal rather than hexagonal grid, but they got me thinking, and then playing, this is the result.
It gave me an idea for either later today or maybe tomorrow, that will make a fabulous surface design. I’m going to play with this one on Spoonflower, but I suspect tomorrow’s drawing will be the winner.
My aunt in Seattle sent me an orange pen for the holiday(s). Yesterday, I was playing with these triangular fractal motives, so today, here’s an exercise in pattern.
When I was little I had a large prickly white shell with a smooth shiny pink interior in which one could hear the echoes of the ocean. Over the years beautiful shells and books about shells have come across my path, and I love to look at all the variety of patterns and textures.
This drawing is inspired by one in particular is a basic fractal, that iterates from step to step creating patterns.