Not There Yet
January 27, 2010 by Janice
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?
Comments
9 Responses to “Not There Yet”
Feel free to leave a comment...
and oh, if you want a pic to show with your comment, go get a gravatar!
Oh I so understand that state of tension – that building up of creative potential that boils away until its steam pushes me to the page. And such a relief when that tension is allowed to release.
Like your friend, I am no artist, but a writer. Sometimes I know exactly where I am going – the other day I woke with a story fully formed in my mind and just had to write down. Sometimes it takes days to learn the shape of tale. But patience and space for creative daydreaming is essential to bring both about.
Hi Emma,
Leaving space. That is such a great way to put it. Requires self trust from artists and writers…adventurers both. I get that too, sometimes fully formed pieces appear to me then I just have to paint them. And that’s fun. I like it. Then there are those puzzling ones…no full images, just a feeling…
BTW I am still thinking about your scary bird post. I just loved it. And I think about those big brave steps. Fun. Just delightful. It could be a children’s book don’t you think?
I am struck once again by our parallel tracks… this thing about how to use different media to tell a story… with its power, capturing the source… that’s really what I’m after too.
“Can I find the simplest way to do them and still make them tell the story that I want them to?”
Why not? And maybe… more powerfully than the novel sized pieces? Why not?
Would these sell to a different market – are they something you could sell online to those of us who don’t ‘know’ art but recognise passion and spirit…?
As much as I follow your work – I don’t know how to buy it or tell others how to do so… is that possible (forgive me, I don’t know)
PS Re the scary bird post… I think a book for adults could also work, because there’s lots of us that need it!
Opposites: city – country, wet – dry, spontaneous – elaborated. Opposites creating energy, sometimes consuming it. Striving for the bigger picture, harmony.
I love the gentle way you shed lights on these matters, Janice. And the beautiful picture. Always in motion – always arrived.
Joanna,
We seem to be after that magical source, don’t we? Like tracing the tributaries to where the river begins and more… the why we do it.
I can sell some of these on line and to those who will send me their email addresses for when I make some offerings, which I will do throughout this upcoming year.
And yes, Emma’s scary birds would make a gorgeous illustrated children’s book just right for adults, too.
Detlef,
You leave me speechless with gratitude and a quiet smile for those amazing words of your own. Thank you. Huge happy heart at seeing those.
Janice, great… count me in
You aren’t alone in this struggle. The puzzle is what makes it interesting, challenging.Worth exploring.
If we knew all the answers going in we would be nothing more then a secretary for the muse, copying down a finished manuscript…longhand…or copying a finished painting of a master. But it isn’t that. we are a part of the exploration..we get in the mud…we get dirty..we make mistakes…we find solutions.We get excited when the light finally comes on and the whole thing shines…
It keeps us coming back over and over again.
I have boots. I’m here for the thick mud.
Joanna-Will do
Wendi-”I’m here for the thick mud” LOL..that’s where it gets real fun..
))
You are so terrific. Thank you.