Will this blog turn into the diary or thought record I've been turning over in my head for the past several months? More and more, as I'm turning off my "school head", I'm pondering my minute to minute thinking - like, what's going through my head as I sit on the deck at Wilbur Point staring at "my world"? And, how do I keep that that thinking and the epiphanies within it fresh? How did (or will) my recent visit to the MFA, to see the Katz exhibit and search out some Chinese watercolors, change my artistic decisions? How will I begin to make sense of - and organize - all of my artistic thinking and planning, the paintings that have been coalescing in my head? I guess I'm beginning to think about such questions because I've never been able to give any significant time to letting really creative ideas like that enter my head. School is out but I've lived a life that has included at least 180 school days, more recently 220, of every year since September of 1960, my mind is more than a little excited.
After reading all kinds of artists' biographies in the past several years and marveling at the reconstruction of days and episodes in the lives of their subjects, I've always been fascinated by the smaller moments in artists' lives. Finally, in my own life, as I move from a career that's been a part of me for 36 years, I anticipate I'll be able to recognize a few of those smaller moments of my own and relish them.
Most mornings are beautiful at Wilbur Point. Whether I sit on the deck or at the kitchen table, whether it's sunny or pouring or snowing, the colors are extraordinary. Using the south wall of my house as an x axis, I have a 180 view of the point. Silvery gray cottages block the full expanse of water, but there are four distinct openings that allow me to keep track of subtleties at this large entrance to the Cape Cod Canal. What affects my view on any given day? Primarily tides and weather. Their effect on distances - some days Falmouth seems like it's close enough to swim to - are profound. How have I missed that before?
So, today I began preparing to write some serious thank-you notes. I'm not a fan of printed Hallmark cards - I mean, I do use them from time to time - so I've found a use for all of my old watercolor sketches. I've been chopping them up on the papercutter, signing or initialing them, then attaching them to card stock. After putting together about twenty-five cards I laid them out to see how they looked quality-wise. If there was an image that glared back at me, more than likely it was something that appeared weak design-wise, or (hopefully) because it was exceptionally good.
I'm happy with the results, but happier with the unexpected possibility for strong mixed media collages. The whole grid thing I mentioned a blog or two back again struck a chord. By cutting up small squares of abstract limbs and torsos and heads, then arranging them as 8" x 8" or 10" x 10" squares, I've salvaged the better aspects from quick sketches that may not have been completely perfect.
Enough for Day One, June 25. Now that school is out (and even though my days aren't done until late August) my plan is to add something here each day. It may just be a quote...it might be a litany, it could very well ramble, but it will focus on the making of, and thinking about, art.
The aim of art is to represent not the outward appearance of things, but their inward significance.
Aristotle
After reading all kinds of artists' biographies in the past several years and marveling at the reconstruction of days and episodes in the lives of their subjects, I've always been fascinated by the smaller moments in artists' lives. Finally, in my own life, as I move from a career that's been a part of me for 36 years, I anticipate I'll be able to recognize a few of those smaller moments of my own and relish them.
Most mornings are beautiful at Wilbur Point. Whether I sit on the deck or at the kitchen table, whether it's sunny or pouring or snowing, the colors are extraordinary. Using the south wall of my house as an x axis, I have a 180 view of the point. Silvery gray cottages block the full expanse of water, but there are four distinct openings that allow me to keep track of subtleties at this large entrance to the Cape Cod Canal. What affects my view on any given day? Primarily tides and weather. Their effect on distances - some days Falmouth seems like it's close enough to swim to - are profound. How have I missed that before?
So, today I began preparing to write some serious thank-you notes. I'm not a fan of printed Hallmark cards - I mean, I do use them from time to time - so I've found a use for all of my old watercolor sketches. I've been chopping them up on the papercutter, signing or initialing them, then attaching them to card stock. After putting together about twenty-five cards I laid them out to see how they looked quality-wise. If there was an image that glared back at me, more than likely it was something that appeared weak design-wise, or (hopefully) because it was exceptionally good.
I'm happy with the results, but happier with the unexpected possibility for strong mixed media collages. The whole grid thing I mentioned a blog or two back again struck a chord. By cutting up small squares of abstract limbs and torsos and heads, then arranging them as 8" x 8" or 10" x 10" squares, I've salvaged the better aspects from quick sketches that may not have been completely perfect.
Enough for Day One, June 25. Now that school is out (and even though my days aren't done until late August) my plan is to add something here each day. It may just be a quote...it might be a litany, it could very well ramble, but it will focus on the making of, and thinking about, art.
The aim of art is to represent not the outward appearance of things, but their inward significance.
Aristotle
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