Every person’s cage is of a different sort. We may feel trapped by our jobs, our circumstances, even the things that we own. Even the most opulent and luxurious of places can seem like a prison. As I begin contemplating a new body of work, I’ve been thinking a lot about the idea of freedom, of space to move. A feeling of space doesn’t necessarily correlate to a large building– depending on our state of mind, we can feel more free in a tiny studio than an extravagant mansion.
For us, feeling confined correlates with traffic and overpopulation. We feel most free surrounded only by trees and mountains. But for you, it might be different. The thought of being out in the wide open wild might seem incredibly imprisoning. The important thing is to be able to identify what it is that makes you feel free and then run headlong straight for it.
Paintings above by artist Bradley Wood. To see more of his work, please visit his website.
For centuries, women have been defined as the “fairer”, even the “weaker” sex. Daintiness, extreme ideas of femininity were valued and celebrated. Yet it is in exactly what defines us as feminine in which our greatest strengths lie.
Praised for their curvaceous beauty, our bodies are capable of growing another human being, they expand and do miraculous things for the sake of giving another life. That same body nurtures, arms provide a loving embrace, feet stand for long hours at work, and at home. Sometimes, what makes us female becomes our enemy, as women who have suffered through breast, ovarian, and uterine cancer will tell you. Yet in that feminine weakness, is still found their greatest strength.
Paintings above by Los Angeles artist Courtney Murphy. To see more of the artist’s work, please visit her website.
One Christmas, a long time ago when my oldest nieces were still little, I painted an old suitcase and filled it with old prom dresses and costume jewelry, creating for them a Dress-Up Box. Looking back, I wish I had thrown in a doctor’s coat, a stethoscope, an artist’s palette.. options to dress up in more than just pretty dresses. But we love to fantasize about who we could be, to dress ourselves up in costumes that, at least visually, transform us.
There is that old adage, “dress for the job you want, not for the job you have“. The costumes we put on have a way of sometimes transforming us from the outside in. We feel fancy when we put on a fancy dress, we feel powerful and in control in a suit. There have been a few stereotypical artist ensembles like the dark, all black, beret-wearing brooder and the wild hair, layered boho hippie look. But my wardrobe, like most artists, lies somewhere in between. I sometimes think if I could start over, if I could overhaul my wardrobe to perfectly reflect how I want to be seen as an artist, will I then feel like the real deal? But I know it won’t work. It is still a costume. I feel like the real deal when I pour out my heart on a canvas, no matter what the outfit.
Paintings featured are by Pennsylvania artist Adrienne Stein. To see more of Adrienne’s work, please visit her website.
We lay ourselves open in more ways than just physical nakedness. Baring our souls often requires much more bravery. We aren’t just our bodies but our spirits. And it is in those deepest places that our true selves reside.
As artists, we lay ourselves bare every time we put brush to canvas. We make ourselves vulnerable as we pour ourselves out in color and form. It is a scary thing to be an artist, to embrace the emotional roller coaster of putting ourselves out there and opening up what is inside for the world to see.
While Mr. F and I were living outside San Francisco, we both had a feeling of being hemmed in. Even though we were living in a small town in the mountains, the number of people had us feeling a bit cagey. Now we’re in another small town, but here in Idaho Falls, there is hardly any traffic and life is just more laid back.
These paintings by Los Angeles artist Seth Armstrong reminded me of the cages that we find ourselves in, sometimes of circumstance, sometimes of our own making.
Some people look at us and see what they want to see. Others look and see exactly who we are, loving and accepting us without reserve. These paintings by Cesar Biojo with their obscured faces remind me of the way we are not always seen clearly, even by those we love.
Being seen as we truly are is a rare gift, one that should never be taken for granted. But it isn’t always the fault of the see-er. We need to reveal our own truths in order for them to be completely visible to others.
hover over the photo above and click through for a peek into the artist’s studio
As artists, once in a while, we come across someone who inspires us, who thinks the way we do, who spurs us to greater heights– artistic kindred spirits, if you will. I’ve featured Bay Area artist Jeffrey Beauchampbefore just recently, but the invitation for a visit to his studio before we left Marin County was too good to pass up and his work too good and inspiring not to share again!
I had so much going on personally while we were in Marin, that it was a challenge just to find the time to go to Jeff’s studio. Something always seemed to be getting in the way and we ended up putting it off until my next to last week in the Bay Area. I gave myself two hours to meet with Jeff before another appointment that day. But soon after we began talking, I found myself wishing we had met up sooner and that I had been able to give him more time that day.
The way Jeff works is almost antithetical to my process– he often takes years to finish a painting, while I rarely take more than an afternoon. Immediately, I felt like there was a lesson in that for me. That I need to have a willingness to take my time, to be able to let go and let something be for a while so that I know for sure where I need to take it.
Jeff lets his work sit, he is able to wait with it, to let it speak to him. To continue to work and rework until it reaches its conclusion. In doing so, there is a layered depth to his work that creates stunning visual texture.
the view from the ark, oil on canvas, 96×72
walrus suffrage gains ground, oil on paper, 28×20
There is also a willingness to be constantly experimenting and evolving his process. For instance, Jeff has recently begun a series of works on paper, reinforcing and validating my own decision to work on paper. We reveled in the distinct pleasure to be found in ripping the tape borders off upon completion! If you work on paper, you know that feeling well! Jeff has found, as have I, that in theory works on paper seem like they would come more fast and loose, but the work is the work and often creating a finished painting on paper takes as much time as painting on canvas or panel.
Another constant in Jeff’s practice is continually looking to and learning from the masters who have come before. For instance, he began a painting based on a Claude Lorrain drawing, taken from one of the many books strewn about his studio. Beginning with a sketch, he worked into the painting below and completely made it his own.
lorrain inspired sketch
proper & common- some of my best friends are nouns, oil on canvas, 60×72
Another lesson I took away from meeting with Jeff was the importance of pursuing what excites you and moves you, despite what may be trendy or popular. Though his landscape work is popular and sells well, Jeff loves to paint monumental figures and quirky narratives. It may take longer for these paintings to find their collectors, but once they do, he knows that they are collecting the work out of a passion for the visual story he is telling, a connection that doesn’t always exist with even the most beautiful landscape.
You can see more of Jeff’s work by visiting his website and following him on Facebook and Instagram.
Thank you, Jeffrey Beauchamp, for opening up your work and your studio.
Studio images by Artsy Forager. Art images via the artist.
The days are slowly growing shorter. Kids are going back to school, the lush green of summer has begun to fade. The transition from summer’s ease into the bounty of Fall is here.
The paintings of Austin artist Patrick Puckett with their warm, autumnal palette and easy repose remind me of this final slowing down before the busyness of the cooler months begins.
Will this be the last al fresco dinner? The last beachside picnic? Soon we’ll trade these delights for briefcases and backpacks, for crisp, cold nights and warm, baked bread. Each season’s end brings a bit of melancholy, but with each end is a new and different beginning.
To see more of Patrick Puckett’s work, please visit his website. If you’re in the Seattle area, don’t miss his show at Hall Spassov Gallery in Bellevue, up through August 31st!
It can be strange the way we can move so effortlessly between worlds, blending seamlessly from work to home, city to country. In these paintings by Polish artist Grazyna Smalej, small figures seem to slip in and out of the abstracted backgrounds.
Sometimes it can feel like we’re stuck in one world, unable to move over to the next. Or maybe we’re slowly, imperceptibly dissolving over, the way Smalej’s figures seem to stand alone and yet blend in. They are on the verge.
Philo said, “Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.” We all have our pain and struggles that we carry around with us. But some of us are better than others at hiding our battle scars.
These paintings by Brazilian artist Marta Penter called to my mind the thought of the lonely and hurting who walk among us. We can’t see the pain behind their smiles, the wounds beyond the laughter. Every one of us is one of them. Some days we might be carry our blues more prominently than others, but they are always there, just beneath the surface.
