Tag: abstract art

  • Sliding. Leslie Wayne.

    Sliding. Leslie Wayne.

    Momentum can be a tricky thing.  If we’re moving in a positive direction, building and maintaing momentum is crucial.  But if we’ve begun sliding into bad habits or toward danger, we need to do everything we can to stop the propulsion.  In her Plank sculptures, New York artist Leslie Wayne  takes her paint on a journey, pushing and piling like lava flowing down a hillside.

    Leslie Wayne | artsy forager #art #artists #sculpture Leslie Wayne | artsy forager #art #artists #sculpture Leslie Wayne | artsy forager #art #artists #sculpture Leslie Wayne | artsy forager #art #artists #sculpture Leslie Wayne | artsy forager #art #artists #sculpture

     

    Sometimes we can temporarily stop the slide, but what if it just keeps coming, piling and piling until it overflows?  Maybe the trick is to just let it slide.  Sometimes we need to allow ourselves the freedom to shift so that we can position ourselves to move away from one thing and build toward another.  The shifting can be tricky, though.  Overcorrecting might delay or detour.  But if just allow a tiny, scary bit of sliding, we move with greater purpose.

    To see more of Leslie Wayne‘s work, please visit her website.

    All images are via the artist’s website.

  • Piles. Brigid Watson.

    Piles. Brigid Watson.

    Are you a piler?  At any given time, we live with at least half a dozen piles scattered among us– stacks of mail, bills, laundry, books, you name it.  Sometimes one pile begets another pile and so on and so on.  These paintings by Brigid Watson, with their heavily layered texture reminded me that the piles are simply the layers of life.

    Brigid Watson | artsy forager #art #artists #paintings #abstractart Brigid Watson | artsy forager #art #artists #paintings #abstractart Brigid Watson | artsy forager #art #artists #paintings #abstractart Brigid Watson | artsy forager #art #artists #paintings #abstractart Brigid Watson | artsy forager #art #artists #paintings #abstractart

     

    In Watson’s paintings, the layers of paint swirl together, overlap, sometimes just piling one right on top of the other.  So it is with our own piles.  We try to keep things neat and compacted but that just isn’t the way life works most of the time.  The piles continue and soon we can only catch glimpses of what lies beneath.  The layers add to the foundation, creating movement, color, creating life.

    To see more of Brigid Watson‘s work, check out her Facebook page.  I chose to focus on these textural paintings but I fell in love with everything she does!

    All images are via the artist’s Facebook page.

  • Peeks. Laurie Danial.

    Peeks. Laurie Danial.

    Our little apartment here in Marin County is on top of a hill, looking down on a small valley below, surrounded by trees.  We delight in leaving the windows open, each glimpse out feels like the view from a treehouse!  Every morning, as I groggily try to get my bearings post-alarm-ring, I catch tiny little slivers of the sunrise through the trees.

    Laurie Danial | artsy forager #art #artists #paintings #abstractart Laurie Danial | artsy forager #art #artists #paintings #abstractart Laurie Danial | artsy forager #art #artists #paintings #abstractart Laurie Danial | artsy forager #art #artists #paintings #abstractart Laurie Danial | artsy forager #art #artists #paintings #abstractart

     

    Occasionally, those small slices propel me out and up the steps to see the full view.  But most of the time, I’m content with those tiny little looks.  The bigger picture is in the beyond and there is comfort in knowing it is there, yet I don’t feel compelled to always seek it out.  I’m safe and content up here in the trees and the slivers are enough.  Just a little taste can be just as satisfying as eating the whole pie.

    Abstract paintings featured by Portland artist Laurie Danial.  See more on the artist’s website.

    All images via the artist’s website.

  • Breathe. Eric Aho.

    Breathe. Eric Aho.

    I’ve always loved being outside.  When I was young, my brother and I would spend entire Saturdays outside, only coming in when we heard my dad’s special ( and loud! ) whistle.  As the years went by, it seemed like the opportunities to be outside became fewer.  But that old ache has been renewed and these days, I can’t wait to get out to where I can breathe.  Artist Eric Aho‘s abstract paintings capture that magical feeling that only the freshest of air can bring.

    Eric Aho | artsy forager #art #artists #paintings #abstractart Eric Aho | artsy forager #art #artists #paintings #abstractart Eric Aho | artsy forager #art #artists #paintings #abstractart Eric Aho | artsy forager #art #artists #paintings #abstractart Eric Aho | artsy forager #art #artists #paintings #abstractart

     

    Mr. F and I like to seek out lesser traveled trails– definitely a challenge while we’re in the Bay Area.  But even if the solitude is short lived, we soak up every second.  One of us will pause– shhh!  The other always asking what is it?  What do you see?  What do you hear?  What we hear is nothing.  Quiet.  Peace.  Air in, worries out.

    To see more of Eric Aho‘s work, please visit his website.

    All images are via the artist’s representing galleries, Hidell Brooks Gallery and DC Moore Gallery.  Artist found via Hidell Brooks.

  • Intersections. Jenny Hager.

    Intersections. Jenny Hager.

    Mr. F and I rely heavily on GPS.  After all, we’re usually living in a new place every three months!  For the first week or so, we use it to navigate every where we go.  Eventually we get to know our paths and crossways and are able to find our way without electronic aid.  In the meantime, we make a lot of wrong turns even with help.  The work of Los Angeles artist Jenny Hager has me thinking about intersecting paths and the directions we follow.

    Jenny Hager | artsy forager #art #artists #paintings #abstractart Jenny Hager | artsy forager #art #artists #paintings #abstractart Jenny Hager | artsy forager #art #artists #paintings #abstractart Jenny Hager | artsy forager #art #artists #paintings #abstractart Jenny Hager | artsy forager #art #artists #paintings #abstractart

    The roads we think will get us to our destination– the paths that seem most logical, often lead  to a dead end or the opposite direction.  Then sometimes there is only one way to go.  We take that street and follow it until we reach its conclusion.  Those are the easiest journeys.  The ones where we find our path and simply follow.  But it can be in the twists and turns, in the turning this way when we are supposed to go that way, in which we find a destination we didn’t even know we wanted to discover.

    To see more of Jenny Hager‘s work, please visit her website.

    All images are via the artist’s website.

  • Place. Rebecca Clews.

    Place. Rebecca Clews.

    Every place we land has a different personality, a different vibe, if you will.  Yeesh, I just used the word vibe.  Methinks I’ve been in California too long!  The same way there is a person for everyone, there also is a place for every soul.  In her work, Kansas City photographer Rebecca Clews uses microphotography to create imaginary worlds, her own sense of place.

    Rebecca Clews | artsy forager #art #artists #photography Rebecca Clews | artsy forager #art #artists #photography Rebecca Clews | artsy forager #art #artists #photography Rebecca Clews | artsy forager #art #artists #photography Rebecca Clews | artsy forager #art #artists #photography

     

    You can tell the folks who have found their place because they will tell you it is the most beautiful wonderful place ever and you’ll never find one like it and but wait, why in the world would you not want to live here, too??  It’s true each place has it’s beauties but in order to know which spot of earth is The One for you, it has to touch your soul.  If you aren’t there, you’re longing to be back.  If you haven’t found it yet, you’ll know it deep inside when you do.  I hope.

    To see more of Rebecca Clews‘ work, please visit her website.

    All images are via the artist’s website.

  • Loosing. Janet Lage.

    Loosing. Janet Lage.

    Nope, I didn’t mean losing.  That’s not a typo.  Loosing– as in, letting go, loosening the reins, giving some slack.  I’m not the best at the loosing thing.  And it shows in my work sometimes.  I become regimented and have a hard time letting go and just going with the flow.  When I saw these pieces in the Trashed series by Janet Lage, I immediately admired their seemingly “I don’t give f*** attitude“.

    Janet Lage | artsy forager #art #artists #paintings #abstractart Janet Lage | artsy forager #art #artists #paintings #abstractart Janet Lage | artsy forager #art #artists #paintings #abstractart Janet Lage | artsy forager #art #artists #paintings #abstractart Janet Lage | artsy forager #art #artists #paintings #abstractart

     

    The splats of bright color, the twisted, energetic lines, the barely comprehensible scrawls, it’s like she is looking into the inside of what all our minds really look like.  Aren’t we all just filled with chaos, contemplation, and contradiction?  Maybe that’s why so many of us need help with the loosing.  We’re struggling nearly every second to keep what seems like interior pandemonium from spilling out, ruining our calm, controlled facade.  Or maybe that’s just me. Ha.

    To see more of Janet Lage‘s work, please visit her website.

    All images are via the artist’s website.

  • Broken. Brian Rochefort.

    Broken. Brian Rochefort.

    When my mom was diagnosed with ovarian cancer last year, I kept coming back to a photograph I had taken of a sand dollar that summer.  You see, when we were growing up, my mom had a thing for seashells and sand dollars.  She loved hunting for those little treasures on our Florida beaches and our house was filled with them.  The sand dollar from my California beach was beautifully bleached and perfectly round, but with a gaping hole in its center.  For me, the sand dollar was my mom– her beauty and grace was intact but her shell was broken.

    Brian Rochefort | artsy forager #art #artists #sculptureWhen faced with the mortality of our parents, it drives home our own vulnerability.  In my mom’s weakness and helplessness, I saw my own– how scared I was sometimes to be alone with her, fearful that something could happen and I wouldn’t know what to do for her.  Next to losing her, it was my biggest fear.  Not being enough.  Not being able.

    One particularly weak day, she wasn’t doing well and had taken herself into the bathroom.  I didn’t hear any noises out of the ordinary, but when I came in a few minutes later to check on her, she was on the bathroom floor.  Thankfully not hurt in any way, but so weak that she couldn’t lift herself up.  And I wasn’t strong enough to lift her from the floor.  We tried and tried, but even together we couldn’t do it.  I was afraid of hurting her and she was afraid of me getting hurt trying to lift her.  So we called my stepdad and we waited.  For what seemed like an eternity.

    Brian Rochefort | artsy forager #art #artists #sculpture

    Brian Rochefort | artsy forager #art #artists #sculpture

    We both shed a lot of tears that day.  Most of mine came when I was back at my brother’s house, alone before the rest of the family came home.  The weight of what could have happened came down on me, along with a tremendous feeling of relief and thankfulness that what could have happened– didn’t.  But it had been there in that moment, more so than any other I spent with her, that I felt how vulnerable she was, how much this ugly disease had broken her beautiful shell.

    Brian Rochefort | artsy forager #art #artists #sculpture
    Brian Rochefort | artsy forager #art #artists #sculpture

    She’s doing better these days.  Still fighting this beast with all the strength her now tiny body can muster.  When we talk she sounds more like herself than she has in months.  I hear a hope in her voice and it gives me hope, a feeling that has sometimes eluded me through this process.  As impossibly difficult as it has been, she has not let it break her.  Her shell is different, but her spirit is still the same.

    Ceramic cups featured today are by Los Angeles based artist Brian Rochefort.  I found an incredible beauty in their cracked and broken shells.  To see more of Brian’s work, please visit his website.

    All images are via the artist’s website.

  • Transparency. Sarah Irvin.

    Transparency. Sarah Irvin.

    In this world of sharing every tidbit of our lives, transparency can be a blessing and a curse.  A recent blog post by artist Emily Jeffords and these ink paintings by Sarah Irvin brought to mind a situation that came up for me recently and I thought I would share my experience with you.  It was one in which I was transparent in my sharing, thoughts, and motives, which helped me to be understood clearly, but at the same time, has made me a bit more guarded.

    Sarah Irvin | artsy forager #art #artists #abstractart

    If you’re a regular AF reader or social media follower, then you know that in the past year, I’ve been painting regularly for the first time in a very long time.  Basically since college lo’ those many years ago!  I’ve been trying to find my way and find my voice artistically and shared my progress here but mostly on social media.  I finally felt like maybe I was beginning to hit on something when in a few pieces I began to notice a similarity to an artist’s work I greatly admire.  And then the panic hit.

    Sarah Irvin | artsy forager #art #artists #abstractart

    This artist and I, thankfully, are online friends ( we’ve yet to be in the same place at the same time to meet in person ) and I had a feeling she had seen the similarities, too.  I wrestled with whether or not to say anything but finally determined that the best course was– you guessed it, transparency.

    Sarah Irvin | artsy forager #art #artists #abstractart

    I sent the artist an open, honest email letting her know that I was in no way intentionally trying to copy her style.  In generosity of spirit, she reassured me that although she’d noticed, she knew it couldn’t be intentional.  As artists we are all influenced by the other work we see, we can’t help but be.  We are all taking cues from those who came before.

    Sarah Irvin | artsy forager #art #artists #abstractart

    Through this exchange, the artist gave me a piece of advice that I’ve been trying to take to heart.  She counseled me to perhaps pull back on sharing work until I felt sure that the direction the work was taking was where I wanted to go and felt uniquely my own.  Transparency in this case led to a pulling down of the veil, if only temporarily.

    Sarah Irvin | artsy forager #art #artists #abstractart

     

    I am more guarded now, in what I share on public media– not for fear of someone else copying me, as more successful artists often are for good reason, but for respect for the process, which right now, is between me, myself, and the canvas.

    The paintings in this series by Sarah Irvin are about a very different kind of confusion and definitely worth your time to explore and read about on her website.

    All images are via the artist’s website.  Artist found via Kathryn Markel Fine Arts.

  • Surfaces. Drie Chapek.

    Surfaces. Drie Chapek.

    When we’re out hiking, I can’t help but run my hand along the surface of a tree, touch the softness of a patch of moss, gently dip my hand into cold, clear water.  No matter where we are exploring, whether desert, woods, or mountains, there are always countless delicious textures to be experienced!  The paintings of Seattle artist Drie Chapek with their thickly painted surfaces echo the intricate webs of textures to be savored.

    Drie Chapek | artsy forager #art #artists #paintings #abstractart Drie Chapek | artsy forager #art #artists #paintings #abstractart Drie Chapek | artsy forager #art #artists #paintings #abstractart Drie Chapek | artsy forager #art #artists #paintings #abstractart Drie Chapek | artsy forager #art #artists #paintings #abstractart

     

    Just as the plants and water and rocks and tress exist in wild spaces, one tumbling over and onto another, so do Chapek’s layers interweave and run through each other.  We catch glimpses of one while contemplating another.

    To see more of Drie Chapek‘s work, please visit her website.

    All images are via the artist’s website.  Artist found via Instagram.