I’m working on an art series to get more comfortable in my new studio. I found myself feeling over-concerned about the destiny of each piece. Instead of proceeding, I’ve been thinking about perfection. This morning I woke up and wondered about what it would be like to be patient and not overthink, but to let each piece emerge of it's own accord.
What if instead of efforting so much, I was simply more receptive? I could reflect on the ideas that I want to incorporate in my work and take time to allow them to develop. Our culture is obsessed with being ”busy,” but it’s time for me to bow out of busyness and slow my pace.
In this vein, I’ve been thinking a lot about climate change. I'm reading about small but significant actions that we as individuals can take to slow what seems to be the inevitable. I’m thinking about changing my methods of construction so that my art work is more sustainable. I want to find another means of attaching paper to paper, rather than the matte medium and acrylics which I now use and are all types of plastic. I recently saw Laura Stangel Schmidt’s work, in which she used a strong industrial thread to connect paper, cloth and bits of effluvia together into a collage. It was effective and the thickness of the thread created its own lines and presence, much as a drawn or painted line adds meaning.
Along with sustainability, I want to reintroduce calligraphic marks (also known as asemic writing) into my work, as I did back in 2016 with pieces like West Pond 1 and 2. Grazing through Instagram the other day, I came upon the work of Jane Davies. Her brilliantly colored shapes, holding up chunks of black and white calligraphic marks, got me going,
West Pond 1 and West Pond 2 16” x 16” each, Monoprint collage
But how to put these two ideas together? A walk along Useless Bay beach with my friend Lisa helped. As I talked about my ideas and concern that having looked at Jane’s post, I might be copying, she said, “but these ideas are brilliant together and you’ll find a way to make them your own.” Indeed. Her encouragement set off a cascade of associations and possibilities. The path back to the heart of my work is here. I just need to follow it.