During our time here in Joshua Tree, Mr. Forager & I often find ourselves talking about what makes this place so different compared to everywhere else we’ve lived. Apart from the obvious, there is such an openness to the landscape here that creates incredible beauty, and yet, there is no place to hide abandoned buildings, rusted out cars and windblown trash. The paintings of Dallas artist Kim Cadmus Owens featured familiar lonely landscapes, infused with color and fractured lines inspired by technological irregularities.
Lounge, oil on canvas, 48×48Smoke and Mirrors: Coming and Going, acrylic and oil on canvas, 156×48
Just as the forsaken buildings once loved and cared may now be hazardous eye sores, our relationship with technology and electronic communication also shifts and evolves. We long for the immediate connection it allows, yet find ourselves frustrated and often unable to cope when the lines of communication go awry.
Pawn, carbon and acrylic on beveled wood panel, 24×30Grand, carbon and acrylic on beveled wood panel, 24×30Leader, carbon and acrylic on beveled wood panel, 24×30
We love how easy it is to connect and yet balk at how those systems of connection invade our privacy. We often find ourselves forsaking the people sitting right next to us for those on the tiny screen in our hands, just as we abandon old buildings full of character and history for shiny new strip malls. Owens use of fragmented lines and color in her work remind us that those connections have broken.
Cheap, acrylic and oil on canvas, 48×48
To see more of the work of Kim Cadmus Owens, please visit her website. How have you seen your relationships and landscape change with the changes in technology? What do you do to combat against a reliance on electronic communication & gadgets galore?
We had such a fabulous response to last month’sArt Association that Erin of artsocial, my AA partner and I immediately started choosing artists and planning for the next few rounds. I know everyone loved Christina Baker’s work and pinned like nobody’s business to win that lovely little painting! ( PS– Christina’s work will be available in our first exhibition & sale, which begins tomorrow! ) I think you’re going to love this month’s catalyst & prize just as much! My own pinboard was incredibly fun & inspiring to put together– I didn’t want to stop pinning, but somebody has to write this here blog.
If you’re new to Art Association, here’s the lowdown– You create a Pinterest board around one work of art ( which we provide ), filled with anything and everything that pops into your mind while gazing at the catalyst piece.
So without further ado, I present to you, dear Artsies, your catalyst artwork for this month’s AA, Yellow Rose No. 2 by Emily Jeffords!
Step 2 | You create a Pinterest board titled Art Association, like mine here, where you pin any and all images you associate with the featured artwork ( like word associations, only visual )– here’s a sneak peek at some of my associations
Step 3 | Leave a link to your Art Association pinboard in the Comments section of this post
The pinner who is deemed the winner ( hee ) will be the proud new owner of this beautiful Emily Jeffords original lithograph! Stem + Orchid is an original lithograph and comes matted for an overall size of 12″ x 13″. Wouldn’t this be a lovely addition to a gallery wall or propped prettily on a bookcase?! **
Stem + Orchid by Emily Jeffords
The pinner with the best Art Association board ( as judged by me and Erin ) will be chosen on Wednesday, February 27th at 5pm (mountain standard time). I’m looking forward to seeing all the creative associations you come up with! Ooooh, I just thought of another one!
Ready, set.. PIN!!
**So sorry but the contest is open to US residents only. I know. Pooh.
21st century humans are over thinkers. In this age of almost unlimited information access, we Google it, Wikipedia it, overanalyzing most anything and everything that comes our way. The moments in which we just lose ourselves to what is happening right that very secondare increasingly rare. Los Angeles artist Jan Zoya intentionally strives to keep the intellect out of her work, resulting in abstract paintings that are free from constraint.
Castle in the Sky, oil on canvas, 23×23Ramshackle Harbor, oil on canvas, 30×30
Her journeys in paint become a conversation on canvas, a talk between color, texture and what emerges. Between the path the artist decides to pursue and the road not taken.
City at Night, mixed media on canvas, 36×48Garden of Earthly Delights, mixed media on canvas, 17×23Daisychains Around the Maypole, mixed media on canvas, 36×36
As I mentioned in a post last week, I’m learning how to have these conversations in paint. To let your brain take a vacation while you paint is very difficult to do! We’re always wanting to know, what will the outcome be? Where is this going? When will we get there? But as in Zoya’s work, I found that it was when I stopped thinking that the magical combination of instinct and intuition took over. And the journey became much more interesting!
Passage, mixed media on canvas, 36×36
To see more of Jan Zoya’s work, please visit her website and give her Facebook page a like, too!
Happy Valentine’s Day, Artsies! Back in my singleton days, February 14th brought out the snarky cynic in me. I even owned and regularly sported a “Love Stinks” t-shirt. But ever since Mr. Forager finally realized he loved me, I’ve retired my sarcastic tee and look forward to this celebration of love. For millions of people, this day is all about sending and receiving beautiful bouquets of flowers. What could be more romantic? I say nothing says love like a painted bundle of blooms by Atlanta artist Christy Kinard!
Stripes and Roses, mixed media, 36×36
Kinard is obviously an artist painting what she loves and having the most fabulous time doing it! Her work is filled with such joyful energy, it is impossible to look upon it and be sad. Go ahead, try. See? The candy colored palette alone makes me want to sing silly love songs and dance in the kitchen with Mr. Forager.
Peacock Roses, mixed media, 48×48Yellow II, mixed media, 36×36
Kinard’s bouquets aren’t perfect and polished, they’re a bit messy and layered with textures. This isn’t modern, sophisticated, too cool for school kind of love. It’s your grandparents’ love. The kind that sits on a porch swing every evening. The kind that still holds hands after sixty years. This is what love is really like.
Pink, Yellow, Orange XOXO, mixed media, 36×36
How are you celebrating love today, Artsies? To see more of Christy Kinard’s work, please visit her website and show her some love on Facebook, Twitter & Pinterest!
I hope you don’t mind if I get personal. Something has been missing from my life. I was seeing it every day from all points, sharing with you when I found it elsewhere, yet finding it lacking for myself. I’m talkin’ about the ARTSY. You see, once upon a time, I could paint. I could draw. And I loved it. But post-college, life happened, I got a string of “real jobs” ( art related, fortunately ) and in general, the busyness of life took over. Occasionally I would dust off my paints and brushes, but those creative rendezvous where growing fewer and farther in between.
You might think that the perfect opportunity to get back into it came when Mr. Forager & I began traveling. No longer would I have the constraints of working a 40+ hour work week, no longer would I be maintaining and upkeeping a house, we’d be far from family, so no excuse of making time for everyone but me. And I did think about it. But it scared the daylights out of me. That little voice inside ( you know, the nasty, mean one ) told me I’d waited too long. Any skill I’d cultivated and talent I’d had was gone. Who was I to try to be an artist? I worked with and personally knew so many phenomenally talented artists. I didn’t feel worthy of even trying to join their ranks. So I choose to stretch my creative muscles in a different direction– I wrote about those phenomenal talents here on the blog. All the while knowing something was missing.
Instead of cultivating my own creative spirit, I’d thrown all my energy into celebrating the creativity of others. Please don’t get me wrong, I adore creating, writing, and developing Artsy Forager! Yet I find myself feeling envious of all the artists I was discovering. HE has such a way with paint, SHE can draw like nobody’s business. I wanted to get back the artistic mojo I’d been missing. For Christmas 2011, Mr. Forager gave me a new set of acrylics and a full-size foldable easel. I’m ashamed to say I can count on two fingers the times I’ve used them. There always seemed to be a reason not to. But now we’ve been here in Joshua Tree for 4 months with 2 1/2 more to go. We’re in a house big enough for me to have room to paint. No more excuses.
So Sunday, while Mr. Forager was brewing beer, I got out my paints and brushes and set up my easel. Underpainting, done. Easy enough, just a wash of phthalo blue. There was a photograph I’d taken of rocks in water that I decided to use as my jumping off point. I sketched in the shadows and forms and started pushing in color and highlights. But it wasn’t working. At times it looked OK, I started to remember what I loved about the process, but then it all seemed to fall apart. I hated what I was doing. I didn’t find it at all creative or inspiring. Mr. F could tell it wasn’t going well. He lovingly reminded me that this was supposed to be fun. And correctly pointed out that maybe I was just trying too hard. I continued to stew and then just got mad. At myself. And with that, I did what most angry artists would do– I destroyed what I’d done with more paint. I slashed cadmium yellow and alizarin crimson all over the tight, controlled mess I’d already concocted. And I immediately felt better. And inspired.
I continued just freely pushing paint, slashing, spraying, muddying, wiping, taking a break and then doing it all again. Mr. F brought me a glass of Kona Koko Brown, one of the few beers I love, and I continued to play. I forgot that I was trying to make “art” and just enjoyed how the colors were working and what the paint was doing. I could see something emerging that made me happy. I was loving the way the colors were mixing, the way light was coming through. I had a breakthrough. You can see the results of my day below.
Kintla Lake ( detail ), acrylic on board, 12×16
Do I think this is the most fabulous inspiring painting I’ve ever seen? Not even close. But compared to where I began that day, I’m pretty happy. It feels good to have a visceral connection to paint again. I have a long way to go. But I’ve vowed to try to create something every day, whether it be just a sketch or a quick study in paint on paper. I’m even inspired to begin a series ( more on that later ). My creative muscles need exercise. I’m sharing this with you because I’m sure you’ve experienced something similar. And because I needed to tell someone. And I need accountability. So if you don’t mind, I’ll occasionally share a little of my own artistic journey. It will be nice to have some company.
Something that draws me again and again to abstract work is how it, more than any other style, tends to be about outward expression of an inner life. Artists using their canvases and paints to work out what is going on inside. The work of Pennsylvania artist Mary Ann Wakeley, which she describes as a form of meditation, seems to be the manifestation of her own inner dialogues.
Wonderland, mixed media on paper, 19×24Le Fruit de L’Amour, mixed media on paper, 17×22
As I look at Wakeley’s work, watching the movement of color and line, I can almost “see” the conversation taking place with herself in paint. The forms and shapes dialogue on the canvas, some speaking louder than others.
L’Envers, mixed media on paper, 24×19Reclamation, mixed media on wood, 30×30
Looking through Wakeley’s body of work on her website, you can almost see the evolution of what she was expressing as a visual diary of sorts.. periods of work where the paint is dark and dense or times of fluid joy.
To see more of Mary Ann Wakeley’s work, please visit her website.
Wow, it seems like a long time has passed since I participated in Art to Inspiration, a monthly collaborative blog project, how I’ve missed it! Mr. Forager and I are still in the land of sand and sun, but our time here is finally growing short. This month’s inspiration, In the Mist by Charlen Williamson, has me longing to return to the cool grey of the Pacific Northwest. So it’s only fitting that Williamson’s image inspired me to put together a gallery of black & white photographs Mr. Forager & I have taken from our favorite places in the Northwest. 50 Shades of the Pac NW, if you will.. 😉
The inspiration–
In the Mist by Charlen Williamson
The gallery–
Cape Disappointment, WAPike Place Market, Seattle, WAAstoria, OROlympic National Park, WARuby Beach, WAOlympic National Park, WA
Oh, the Northwest! We can’t wait to get back to you. See more work by Charlen Williamson in her Etsy shop here. You can see more photos from the travels of Artsy & Mr. Forager on the blog’s Instagram feed.
You can find more information on Art to Inspiration here and if you would like to participate in the next Art to Inspiration, just fill out this form! Follow me and all the other Art to Inspiration bloggers on Twitter by subscribing here. Let the inspiring begin!
In the Mist by Charlen Williamson via her Etsy shop. All other images by Artsy Forager.
I am loving the illustrative quality to these watercolors by Massachusetts artist Michelle Morin! I’m sharing more of Michelle’s work in my Artist Watch on Escape Into Life today.. head over to EIL to check it out here.
In every life and any artist can tell you, in every work of art is filled with highs and lows. We struggle through the valleys and rejoice on the mountaintops. The work of New England artist Natalia Wrobel expresses those polarities in paint.
The World is a Waterfall, oil on canvas, 77×77Marked Surrender, oil on canvas, 24×24
Wrobel’s work intuitively explores the push and pull of creating something from nothing. The layering of color, line, and shape create swirls of movement and texture while leaving areas of glowing and restful light.
Angels at the Ready, oil on canvas, 36×60Abundance, oil on canvas, 96×48
In each piece, we can almost see the search, the struggle between letting go and holding on, knowing when to keep moving forward and when to stop in your tracks.
Echo, oil on canvas, 42×42
To see more of Natalia Wrobel’s work, please visit her website. And don’t forget to follow her on Facebook and Twitter, too!
I admit, I’m a scaredy cat. I turn on lights as soon as I enter a dark house. It’s something about the fear of what is unseen. The power of suggesting what might be lurking is enough to give me chills. The work of California artist Sherie Franssen weaves a visual tension between what lies beneath and what is merely suggested.
Fool For Love, oil on canvas, 43×65
Her expressive abstract works begin with a figure, then through expressive gestural brushstrokes and saturated color, the figurative presence recedes, like a shadow, into the swarm of color and movement.
Return of the King, oil on canvas, 78×86Barnyard, oil on canvas, 78×80
While perhaps, if we gaze long enough and look closely enough, we may catch a glimpse of the figure among the fray. But it will be the searching that our eyes most remember as we take in the excitement of each moment and movement. We may even forget what it was we were anticipating.
Sherie Franssen, oil on canvas, 78×90
To see more of Sherie Franssen’s work, please visit her website. Her work can be seen in person at Dolby Chadwick Gallery in San Francisco.
