Piddle and Random
January 29, 2010 by Janice · Leave a Comment
Watercolor, Color Pencil, Graphite, on paper, Janice Cartier, January 2010
Sounds like a law firm, maybe a jeweler, or a publisher, but piddle and random is a discovery tool. One I’m using for part of my day today. I know, sounds and maybe even looks like, it’s just doodles…and it is. But these little color sketches are, hm..a kind of free association to both get away from and come into something.
Ever set out on a walk with no particular thing in mind except the walking? Just follow your feet where they lead? And did you ever notice what happens the more you warm up, the more you cover a bit of distance going to that no place in particular?
Just being in the walk?
That nothingness of walking openly…
Is kind of an emptying out,
And an inviting in.
Things happen in that space, thoughts drift,
Responses happen,
Curiosity can take you here or there.
Ease.
No have to, no this way only,
No must cover x number of miles.
Just walking until it’s time to go back in.
It’s raining here today, and someone borrowed my umbrella…so I may not go outside.
But I will be walking,
Color sketching,
Making puddles,
And marks,
Covering a little bit of distance,
With nothing particular in mind, except two things:
It cannot be of anything,
And there cannot be a plan.
I just have to follow where it leads.
That’s all.
Oh, and I have to use colors that are favorites, and colors that I rarely use at all.
Piddle and random.
On a rainy day.
Discovery.
From intentionally
Doing something,
With a vacant mind.
It takes practice.
The artist smiles.
But you get some delicious bits that burble up to the surface.
See you around five for a Naughty beverage?
Not There Yet
January 27, 2010 by Janice · 9 Comments
Gouache, Color Pencil, Graphite, Janice Cartier, January 2010
Like an unfinished story way before the editor sees it. That’s a day in the studio. In private studio, even more so. In private studio playing with only an inkling of an idea…even more so than that. But we play anyway.
The difference here, is that I am showing you things that dispel any notion that I solidly understand what it is I am after.
There is only the tension of desire and movement toward it.
With maybe a hint of a clue.
I was talking about this yesterday with a very dear friend who knows my work, who gets it.
He writes,
But he gets painting.
And we were discussing how I used to immerse myself in wetlands landscape, fully breathe it in, go wandering out, and bringing back. Hunting, harvesting, just being open to whatever I would come across that caused that little hum to begin. Light on form, a special place, an intimacy of recognition. Passion ignited. Compulsion set in motion.
I am not surrounded by those wetlands here.
There’s more geometry, more unnatural here than natural, more cultivated than chaotic.
And then I said to him, “I’ve decided to go toward those scribble series as half my work this year, those abstract things, John suggested, and it is so different, trying to get comfortable with the idea of just the shorthand, just the form that causes the tingle in the first place. ”
As always, he listened attentively.
I have always done those quick notes of pure line, pure response to color as field notes, or painting plans, as quick drawings. They are scattered all through my work. Always have been. They zing with energy. Pure motion and impact. I have always layered on more though. We seemed to need more. And that’s what sold. The more.
We discussed our writer friends who have made compromises with their publishers to make it to the bestseller lists. No judgement there, just acknowledgement of that thing there is in levels of audience and art and sales.
And here I am stripping away those layers. Will form, and line and color be enough?
Can I strip away enough, but not too much?
Can I find the simplest way to do them and still make them tell the story that I want them to? Tell of that burst, that spark, that thing that compels me? That thing in the thing that is an intimate recognition.
And we decided, it may be like the difference between writing a novel and writing a short story. That shorthand I want to develop into full blown works, and master if truth be told, puzzle me. There is no little fear involved in developing them. Murikami says he does short story and novel writing from completely different places. And not at the same time. They require him to think differently about what he is doing.
So I have two opposite sets of series I am playing with.
More, abundant more.
And less.
But they both need to end up at the same place.
Brilliantly captivating.
Just like their source.
We are not there yet.
It’s a risk.
But it is going to be a very interesting year, I do believe.
Uncomfortable, uneven, edgy, with bits of oasis and clearings and glimmers of light.
It’s my hybrid kind of exploring, adaptation if you will. But also, it feels both like something new and like coming home.
The tension has always been there.
So this artist is going toward it.
Again in those places in between.
Half of them known and seen, half of them from within. Hm, not sure what kind of boots to put on, but that’s the course we’re setting.
It feels like a very good thing. Even if it’s scary.
“It feels like more, like getting more of me back now,” I told my patient friend.
I just hope that that’s enough.
And I hope you find it interesting. You’ve got boots right?
No telling where this will take us.
And I wonder, how much of what you do…how much is on the map and how much …no map at all?
Win
January 25, 2010 by Janice · 1 Comment
Alexa Pulitzer, Rhodia notepads, Waterman Black Pen, Gold ribbon, Janice Cartier, January 2010
Who knew that a 23 year old kicker making a 42 yard field goal could rob me of words?
Tears. Instant tears. And joy and jubilation. The world must know that this was much more than a game.
And I have no gift of words that can even come close today. My heart is beyond full, the tears come easily. The smiles along with them. It’s a universe of emotion that connects my heart with so millions more as Garrett Hartley kicked that ball last night through the uprights and into history…a nicer one this time. It was hard to watch and hard not to watch. I am exhausted and I wasn’t even on the field.
The artist smiles.
The Saints are going to Miami to play in the Super Bowl.
That’s a win,
For everyone.
Here are better words than mine about what this team means to all of us.
But here, here on an Organizing Monday, just go out and win.
Win big, win small.
Win something for yourself this week.
Anything.
It will count.
And Geaux Saints. Magical, absolutely magical this year.
And wouldn’t you know it?
They are up against Peyton, Olivia and Archie’s son….
Now what kind of funny is that?
God has a seriously crazy sense of humor.
It’s a win either way…now isn’t that nice for a change?
Ink, Paper, Scissors
January 22, 2010 by Janice · Leave a Comment
Collage, Graphite, Color Pencil, Gouache, Janice Cartier, 2010
It’s not there yet. And yet here it is out there again for public consumption. This assemblage has another layer to go, darker darks, and warmer colors, hopefully some cobalt violet will sneak in, even though that is a “favorite” color on my palette. And we have competing ideas here about using favorites and hey try this at the moment. In any case, here it is. A second experiment in deconstruction.
In translation.
Play.
Am I getting more comfortable doing this to pieces that I love?
To pieces there is nothing wrong with at all?
To successes I have known?
Hmph.
Depends.
After all, at this stage, we are suspending judgement.
But here’s one thing I am noticing:
I am loving parts of these.
Not only when I feel the marks being made, but after they are done.
Like now.
I purposely stopped on this one right at this point. I see some areas that hold real promise. And there are decisions to be made. The next medium to go on, should it be ink and brush, should it be cut, should it be paint that I know? And how much should I stick to the original plan? The original is way darker than this.
But right now, it reminds me of a Dior fabric on a dress that I almost bought years ago. I opted to just get the solid color jacket that came out with it in that collection. But the silk of the dress had colors that skimmed and skirted and moved on its surface like this. It was a breath. A souffle of joy. It was horrendously expensive. It was one of those either or, but not both, moments in Saks. I bought the aqua raw silk jacket. And was happy every time I wore it.
Decisions.
Like now.
Enjoy the moment as you are in it. That’s what I want from my work. And amid all the tension of going off my usual path, of knowing these are only little jumps,
On bits of paper,
With things I have on hand,
I paused.
Right here.
And smiled.
Just because I liked it.
And now I must choose.
Even if I take it to a much darker place, or even if I totally destroy it,
I still have this moment.
And the nifty little treasures that I see.
And those…
I’ll take with me, into the bigger work.
And be happy that I found them. That for a moment they are mine just as they are.
Oh, I’m getting out the brown, the ink, the scissors….the darker darks…
We’re exploring after all.
But I’m sneaking in some cobalt violet …right next to those yellow twirly things that look a lot like sails…
How about you? Are you good about “killing your darlings” to serve the greater good?
And yes, five o’clock, we’ll be needing a Naughty beverage, or maybe even two. Whoever gets there first, order a pitcher, please…
The Offending Piece
January 20, 2010 by Janice · Leave a Comment
Graphite, Collage, Color Pencil, Ink, Janice Cartier, 2010
Never. Look outside and see if pigs are flying because never would I show this piece in public. If, and it’s a big if at the moment, I ever decided I actually thought well of it, it might be a bridge piece. One that comes after one thing and before another in a successful series.
We have not had time enough for that to happen… yet. This is still playing in the mud puddle time.
Clearly.
And here it sits.
Out there now.
One of my “pick 42 ways to fail”examples.
I was examining form last week in some drawings. How things fit together, movement. Parts of real things and part of an important piece of the large Deer Tracks multi paneled piece. Looking for essential energies, vibrance. And I have 2 series officially on my schedule that require comfort with failing. Trys. Starts and uh ohs, and guesses.
I have to live with those guesses too.
And suspend judgement.
Because we are just in the making of the story on those series.
Granted it’s a visual story. Visual stories have their own struggles with visual language too. Illusion. Suspension of disbelief. And they have basic elements like line and color and texture, to name a few.
So we play.
This is only a mild attempt at play. On a piece of paper. No huge leap. Small ones. Small play with ways of saying . Of taking something known to an unknown place. Of pursuing impact. And essences.
Hmph.
I have two more to do like this this week.
Central cores from major pieces I have done. I am deconstructing. “Translating” .
Because I have always wanted to.
And because my dear John T. Scott said go there. “It’s a very rich place for you”, he placed a finger on one of my pieces and tapped it. “Right there. That place in between.”
So that’s where those 2 series are going.
Sheesh.
And in public no less.
Can you see me shaking my head?
And surrendering…
To whatever “going there” is to be?
Are you good at suspending judgement when you are trying to shift yourself a bit?
Something about Tension and Vision
January 18, 2010 by Janice · 14 Comments
Tone washes and scribbles drawing, Janice Cartier, 2009
I wanted to say something today about tension and vision. It’s Monday, an organizing day that sets the course for this week. More drawings, more zone time, more setting up time to explore unknowns. More doing the work.
An artist’s week is a practice. We set up blocks of time, set up structure, and then let go, let ourselves suspend time in the only way we can and just allow ourselves to surrender to the work and hopefully the muse.
It sounds calm doesn’t it?
Sounds mystical and magical and blissful, doesn’t it?
Hah!
Last Friday I spent at least 4 hours in a state of high tension in the zone.
Oh, the first hour was blissful.
Flowing along just fine.
Sketch sketch.
Graphite across paper.
Yummy lines. Some planes. A little texture.
Ahh.
Then the shoulders tensed, I had added collage to the drawing.
My neck started kinking, the initial color was glaringly primary.
The small voice got louder and louder. I had just glued a faucet into a puddle instead of drawing the sticks and leaves that go there.
The voice said some nasty things.
The muscles groaned in harmony and
I had to take several brief time outs.
Why collé that just there? You don’t do that.
Tension.
Not bliss.
I had made contact with the wall.
You know the wall.
The one we are trying to move.
The one that says this is not your usual stuff and you’re playing around. Why don’t you get back to what everyone loves that you do. And augh that looks awful. What is that about? You think that is art? That looks like you are back in school. It’s laughable.
Yep. That wall.
And I was just an hour or so into the zone.
What do you do?
You get up and switch the clothes into the dryer from the washing machine.
You wash your tea cup out.
You glance back at this mess you are making.
And you say, it’s a piece of paper for goodness sake.
A piece of paper.
And you get back to it.
And you keep your promise, to push a little bit. To stay with it.
It will either work,
Or it won’t.
Or parts of it will.
And those will go into the next time.
You’ll find your way through.
Just talk back to that little voice, just ask it some questions.
Like hey, so what? And, what you never goofed? Or hah! I have more paper you know. I can toss this if I want…
You keep asking what if… and you live with your guesses…suspending judgement.
And sometimes…
When you take another glance…
And after a bit more tension..
And some talking back..
And some keep on going…
Something that you like, some special tucked in corner, or the way two edges come together, or the play of this against the other…. will be enough.
Enough to let you know…that works…
Hm… give me more of that.
Art is work.
It is vision, but make no mistake it is work.
And you have to be comfortable in discomfort…expect the tension.
Keep your eyes on the prize you are after. And don’t give up.
Block the time in your zone to make it happen.
That’s pretty much my Organizing Monday. Blocking more time to talk to that wall. I think there is some good stuff on the other side of it. And it is mine. Just need to go get it.
So back to the zone we go.
How about you? Are you surprised by resistance when you are working creatively? What do you do?
Namaste
January 15, 2010 by Janice · 2 Comments
Aromatherapy sketching, Janice Cartier, January 2010
It’s about zone. The candles are about zone and agility. And purpose. Being agile with flow. I spent the afternoon sketching yesterday. Pulling things out of the this needs drawing box. I sometimes light candles and listen to music softly.
Create kind of a bubble.
This is very different from the sometimes rowdy drawing sessions we had in Santa Fe. Ned, a western art hall of famer in our group said, when you can draw well in the middle of a marching band parade you will have attained focus. So music played and the guys cracked jokes and we drew naked models.
It was good.
Very good.
But for solitary drawing I like something soothing.
Until I am into a piece maybe.
I did one of my first large scale paintings called “Tempest” listening to B.B. King. The Financial Chairman of Federal Express bought that piece within minutes of seeing it, even though it was essentially a fabric landscape. A very fine one. Well it was a dark and stormy night and B.B.was singing the blues. I was in the zone.
Creative people need to find their way into the zone. The good stuff is there.
Ways into it,
Involve a decision.
To cut off, which is what decide means actually. A decision to put this outside and that inside. To find your own bubble of concentration. Becoming agile at letting go, leaving everything else outside and hunkering in to “allow” is something they don’t teach you in school exactly, but has to be learned.
How to create your bubble.
Time is a consideration too. How long and when is my highest best use….of me.
Me.
Me is the resource.
And me is a fluid resource that needs to be managed and exercised just like an athlete exercises core muscles.
Seriously.
Part of being agile in coming in and out of the zone is a self trust and exercising that trust. Showing up fully, with an exclusive mind. Excluding all else except what is right before you. We have to create a context, some kind of personal structure and space then allow things to develop. It’s a practice. Like working out.
Except without the sweat. No, I take that back. Sometimes there is sweat. Lots of times there is sweat.
And sometimes meh, not so much you like happens.
But sometimes it does. In a big way. Most times it serves its best purpose this bubble making time. It keeps you fluid. At ease with the flow. At ease going to the river and drinking of its clean running stream. Being very present, even still. So that fresh current can wash over you.
And yesterday, the water was good. Three new painting experiments flowed right into being. From drawing, from taking a closer look at a small part of the big painting, from letting go, playing with form, and just being totally present when there. Saying hm, what if….feeling hm, look at this….and making some essential marks…
So the paper is torn to size, the fingers are itching, the sparkle is in my eyes, and a little paint will come out of the tube, but not in the usual way. And I like that. Cannot wait to get to them.
Now? Now, I am off to look for more candles and pick the music I’ll play. So… namaste. ( hm, maybe I should bring a towel today… just in case it gets messy… )
How about you? How do you create your bubble?
And yes, around five, we should haul out a huge pitcher of Naughty Margaritas. After a day of creative play those sound pretty good.
How Do We Find Our Way In?
January 13, 2010 by Janice · 5 Comments
Drawings and Journals, Janice Cartier, January 2010
Are journals a writer’s sketchbook? Are sketches, an artist’s journal? Does a software coder have a personal file somewhere where they work out the elegance of codes? Where do we begin our explorations?
I was in the map and staging room on the Pelican one afternoon at Chandeleur Island, and every scientist, biologist, even the fish guys, even the mappers in sync with the NASA satellite had some kind of notebook or field journal to match my sketchbooks. They all looked a bit different, some graphed, others not, some well worn, others fresh and new, but there I was with my sketchbooks and my field notes looking around the room finding that we all had to have that kind of place, that kind of thing in our daily work. Of course now we might have an iphone, or a droid or hint hint some sleek new tablet rumored to be coming out.
I prefer paper though. And a pencil or a pen. And if I am writing in one of my journals, I like to use the same pen throughout the whole journal.
And I like certain journals, certain kinds of sketchbooks, certain sizes, and certain brands.
Inside the galley on the Pelican on one trip, there was a hand typed manuscript that I was asked to read, the original words for the Walter Anderson book, Pelicans. His daughter was putting it together to be released. After all, we were on his grandson’s boat. Reading a primary document like that, from an artist I admired, was like handling original sketches or watercolors from say Winslow Homer or John Singer Sargeant, or John Marin. I have done that too. Goose bump moments those.
And if I could collect one scrap of a note from Steinbeck in his own hand, I would treasure it like a sketch from Alexander Calder.
Notes. These are ways in. Beginnings. Traces of thought. Drawings of what if’s and how is that? Of I wonder, or look at this.
All good ways in.
Show me the sketches for a piece of finished art and I am almost as happy as seeing the finished piece. These bits are as close as we can get to the original impulse.
A friend of mine edited Jack Kerouac’s journals, coffee stains and all.
I was in awe.
He did Reagan’s too.
And Kerry’s.
Primary documents. Held in his hands.
Context to a larger thing.
Moments of capturing.
On file, in the Library of Congress, there is a simple line drawing of a cowboy on a bucking horse in a letter….that bucking horse and its rider is now in everyone’s cultural memory bank just about. And it was the drawing in that letter that became the powerful bronze. One of Remington’s signature pieces of sculpture. You know Remington was on San Juan Hill with Roosevelt and the “Rough Riders”, right?
These bits of things are called ephemera…
But to those who make them,
They are our way in.
Into something bigger. Something we’ll refine, or play with, or toss out.
Beginnings. Starts.
Over and over again.
Fundamental practices we hone,
These are access to the flow.
All part of finding the path that speaks to us most.
Finding our way in,
We tend to leave a trail.
How about you? Do you have a favorite notebook, or journal, sketchbook or catch-all for your starts? Is it paper or virtual for you?
Zone and Systems
January 11, 2010 by Janice · 13 Comments
Action Icons, Janice Cartier, January 2010
I like to plan and think with doodles sometimes. It helps me see clearly and simply. I am not crazy. Just crazy about getting into the zone. You know, the Zone? Where creative juices flow, the muse dances and all is bliss? The one that on some days is an exquisite level of Dante’s Hell? Yes, that zone.
Crazy about it. That’s where the paint flows best.
So getting there is key.
How we don’t get there is by having lots of open loops, unfinished business, distractions, or now where did I put that…whatever that one thing is that will make all the difference in the world at the moment.
Enter systems.
And doodles.
Ack! Run! Quick!
No, actually here’s a real simple idea, but one that took a few bites off the apple for me to wrap my brain around how important and useful it is for getting to spend more time in the zone.
It’s called “100% collection”.
It’s a concept from Dave Allen, he of business getting it done fame. I gave it a nod some time ago and put it into the works at my desk, but I didn’t understand how useful it is as a studio application too with source material. Using it across the board clears huge space in my mind.
Empty vacant space.
The artist smiles.
We will hear more about the beauty of a vacant mind in the next few weeks.
But the zone loves space of its own.
So how can collecting all your stuff help that?
Artist have lots of stuff: notes, source material, objects, projects in process, sketches, photos, lots of materials and odd kinds of things too. There’s a kind of chaotic poetry that goes into making things, and until it is that thing, all that those chaotic bits have a way of just being there taking up psychic space.
Yes. Psychic space. His words.
I like them.
Because that’s what all those open loops and things do.
Until you process them. Until you decide something about them.
Even in the studio. Not just in the office, or personally, but in every facet of our work. What does Dave Allen say to do about all this?
Collect it all in one place and process it with one question.
One question?
Yes.
Here’s the question: What’s the next action on this?
One bit at a time in no particular order. Just pick up the first thing and ask, What’s the next action on this and put it where you will take that one action. If there is no action, toss it, or file it as reference. And if it is a reference? It should have no psychic pull, just be there as…well.. reference. Something away from the activity in the studio. The idea is to sort until you have only next actions, or reference. Or not there. Space. Physically your space gets cleared and de-cluttered. Mentally, no open loops are calling your name.
The first doodled icon is a pencil. It is that simple. The basic first thing I do with most work is draw. So anything that is in a notebook, a sketchbook, or in a file, or sitting there, that needs to be drawn is pulled out regardless of theme, or series or inspiration, or whatever I had stored it under and it is now batched to drawings.
Why is this so different now?
Before I had things sectioned off by series, or theme, or just source material. When I was working on one thing, I could feel the pull of everything else. So I thought, hm, break everything apart and walk them all through basic process together. See if that makes it better.
So I am.
Because I am putting everything through this same question, I have no sense of anything being left out. Consequently I have more peace of mind. As a result all that psychic chatter is clearing. It’s early days yet, but I am seeing a difference. Taking action on dormant areas feels good. Lots of work, but good. Working through them all at the same time….we’re working on that. But drawing is drawing and I love that, so it’s a nice place to re-start for the new year.
I have chosen the series work for the year. There are four separate but interrelated ones, but I’ve decided what the pivotal work is to be. That helps. So everything can now go through his filtering question into the action that come next or be put away.
And that makes space for the zone.
It’s a closed loop now.
And the zone and the muse are liking that.
“What is the next action?”
Not which theme, which piece do I work on now. More like well, this is the part of the day I like to draw best, so let me get to those drawings. Like that. The drawings and things that are ready for studies or another action or paint are sorted to that next action thing then.
So Organizing Monday feels good and it feels anxious. But Dave said that would happen as everything comes to the surface. The noticeable thing? Flow. Right into the zone. More often.
How about you? Are you good about keeping everything flowing, or do you get stuck in some places?
Anemones, Nudibranchs, Pink and Flow
January 8, 2010 by Janice · 8 Comments
Pencil Drawings, Janice Cartier, January 7, 2010
Start at the start. I am somehow drawn to pink in January. Goes way back, but here we are. I came across this pink flower someone sent me and itched to draw it. Those tentacle like petals, the movement in them, captured my eye. I drew it. A quick sketch to see if I should pursue it any further. Then along came that cuttle fish, the one with the Serengeti-like pattern of sepia and gold on its back? Yep, did a quick doodle of him too and noticed that pattern is very linked to the big wetlands pieces I do.
Hm.
I did not stop there.
I drew a dragon-like nudibranch named “flabellina exoptata”.
And a huge Monterey sunflower-like anemone.
Remembered wading among them with a friend.
I am in a tide pool kind of mood.
The left side of the big multi-paneled painting I have underway has a huge puddle in it. In fact, several panels of puddle. Full of shapes. Granted, it is a Mississippi puddle with plenty of mud and goo, but that puddle and the Monterey tide pools are the start of it all. And those shapes are very important.
I want those shapes to be exquisite.
I want new life in them.
And I want you to see, the origins of all that makes me do what I do.
So it is to the tidepools we go.
For nudibranchs and anemones.
And snapping shrimp.
Not that they are in this puddle exactly, their cousins are there true enough, but because they are part of the big reason why.
You know, WHY.
That question we should all be able to answer.
The why. The tickle of our fancy.
What is it that sustains us?
That keeps the fascination going.
That makes us not only show up, but thrill in the very existence of being able to show up exactly where we do?
Is it as simple as anemones, nudibranchs and pink?
Well, yes.
It can be that simple.
Those are access points.
Access points and triggers.
To a larger thing.
So we are going to take a look.
At just what it is about them, that makes me want to spend hours and days playing with them. Drawing them, anticipating the squish of paint and the puddles of color. What makes them so vital?
What could be behind that?
These tiny little things.
Well, to start.
A moment of thrill.
And that is where art should start.
Don’t you think?