Gently, Softly
August 6, 2010 by Janice · 2 Comments
Sanguine Contè Crayon, Handmade Thai Paper, Janice Cartier August 2010
Gently, softly with whispers and smiles and a luxurious stretch of my toes, I pick up the crayon. Where to begin?
Anywhere.
Just jump in.
First days back are a bit of a bridge, so contè crayon is a nice ambassador, willing to greet me in the middle.
Diplomatically amenable.
A first envoy from the studio.
And a warm up tool.
“Here , we’ll have a pliant go of it.”
Some further working on the puddle piece that lies topmost on the table.
I made a schedule. But it would seem at the moment, days without a formal agenda are making the best days of this summer. Not drawing, not painting for just awhile created space my head does not have to fill.
My hand has taken over.
It just moves across the paper with no thought…
except how terribly good this feels.
Or is that dark enough, or should this whisper here?
Doesn’t that line bend just so?
I barely pause, oh maybe to get a drink of water,
But my hand is holding all the answers.
And it says to me…shhh
We’ve got this…
Just enjoy it.
Contè is an amiable friend and glad to see me back.
Ahhh…I should go away more often.
And later ? You know it’s Friday…and yes Naughty Margaritas all round. Maybe we’ll wear sombreros …
Once in A Blue Moon
August 4, 2010 by Janice · 5 Comments
Dale Chilhuly "Moon", Photo by Pat S. Minchow
Once in a blue moon I’d like to be a bird that flies and darts among the reeds. Or a cat that climbs fences and leaps across a lawn. Or perhaps a giraffe that reaches high up in the trees just for a nibble.
Or a sculptor that alters terrain.
Hides surprise and real delight to be discovered by passersby…
It would be awfully tempting to disguise myself behind a bush
or as a tourist from Great Britain
And listen
To the oohs and ahhs
As the promenade proceeds…
Down the slope, over the rise, past the water garden.
I ‘d have to tiptoe
Or tip my hat just so if spied,
“Lovely weather we’re having”
And smile to my sculpting self
Over the joy that had been plain..
as one by one
my pieces
teased
pure pleasure
from
everyone walking
in this enchanted garden.
Once in a blue moon
I’d like to see as Dale Chilhuly sees.
Or better yet …
Make that
See everyday
with childlike fascination.
- Dale Chilhuly at Cheekwood, photo by Pat. S. Minchow
This Will Be A Puddle
July 16, 2010 by Janice · 2 Comments
Sanguine Conté Crayon, Thai Paper, Janice Cartier, July 2010
This will be a puddle. Bits of pigment pulled across the page. It’s bigger. The page has lots more parts, but here we see a circle, a puddle, the outlines of the dance.
The paper has ridges, bumps, pulpy bits engrained. The conté is soft. Chalk. It hugs and clings as if the paper is a raft.
Yes, here..now over there…now skip a bit and then darker by that branch..
softly flit
now press
Now rest.
And take a look.
More..tease it more..
We want velvet hints of soil
And wet, it will have to seem wet..
Even though made of dust.
Sanguine.
Blood.
Beats and rhythms of a heart.
Make the lines fairly sing,
Like birds in the canopy,
And leaves buzz.
Pine needles crunch under foot.
and pause…
there’s a track
Where something fed and watered just hours ago..
This will be a puddle.
But’s it’s not quite there just yet.
This will be a puddle
Some paper and some chalk.
This will be a puddle
To quench an artist’s thirst.
Only fitting right? After all, it’s Friday, Naughty Beverage time.
The artist smiles and looks fondly at that chalk. This feels so good.
This will be a puddle.
If I play some more.
Fresh
July 14, 2010 by Janice · 5 Comments
Handmade Japanese Papers, Janice Cartier, July 2010
Fresh. Handmade. And whispering. Beckoning like a lover. I have sanguine conté, charcoal and graphite fairly chomping at the bit. We can even haul out some French or some Japanese ink. I have a bit of those. and some quiet time.
I have this urge to make a set of drawings, tangles of trees, dapples of light. Quiet spots you have to make an effort to get to, off the beaten path.
I call them sanctuaries.
Spots I’ve walked and places I ‘ve paused…because there was for that moment something…
Something about them,
something
more
So I stopped..and took them in.
Breathed them in deeply.
Lines…
Lines pulled across the tooth of a page.
gentle deposits of pigment, in blood red that goes all the way back to the Renaissance. Bits of burnt wood dating to caveman times, charcoal resting gently on the page…
pencil tracks left
that trace
An undulating connection
a give and take…
in that moment and this one
Timeless and yet
a breath
A fresh breath in time
Calls to me
Come on…
Drawing,
seeking sublime
And bringing that into being..
On handmade paper that whispers…
Come on
Play with me.
You know you want to.
the artist smiles…
Yes. I do.
Gone Painting
June 18, 2010 by Janice · 3 Comments
Kremer Pan Colors, Series 7 Sable Brush, Janice Cartier, June 2010
Thinking I just want to exhale some paint onto paper today. I want to feel it squish. Chrome oxide, and ochre and orange. Maybe some blue. Let it be that simple.
Like a child jumping a rope and rattling off an artist’s count of colors.
That simple.
And look with a beginner’s mind. No further.
I want to fill a glass with water and dip my brush. Like I would my toe into a brook.
And have the water flow.
Giggling, with the freshness of that first quenching sip.
I want it to tickle.
And I want to smile when I see the puddles spread. Perhaps find some hidden creatures there, some surprises of discovery. Some, “Wow, I didn’t see that before.”
I want to see the brightness.
And lightness.
Of this patch of marsh.
The pine filled bottomlands.
With pungent needles on the ground.
Random puddles of oasis.
A nearby splash at the river, a fish
I hope,
the artist smiles,
and not an alligator.
A distant boat motor heading to the gulf,
Birds chirruping as I pass.
And anoles sunning on a branch.
Yes. that’s it.
So.
I think I’ll pack a lunch.
Some lemonade.
And find a visored hat.
And pretend.
That it is that simple.
Maybe the scent of sunscreen on my face..
will fool me.
whatever it takes…
I’ve gone painting.
In a place…
that I’ll pretend…
Still exists
As I love it.
And then come out to join you later for a Naughty Margarita?
Soft and Strong
April 28, 2010 by Janice · 3 Comments
Rhodia, Moleskine, Marie Papier, Tissue, Graphite, Janice Cartier, April 2010
I am drawn to silk tissue and gentle papers made in France, and graph paper tucked in orange and yes, the eternal smooth that is Moleskine. Here. Here is just a trio. I even like their colors and their shapes. How they feel in my hand. How the pencil or the pen flows across them.
Invitations of the richest kind.
Small, soft and yet..
How actually resilient. How strong.
They are but little bits,
Points of capture.
Thoughts unobstructed.
Intimate zone work.
Beginnings of becomings.
And in them? Enough ideas and thumbnails and pre-painting to keep me busy for quite a long time.
Possible answers.
For questions asked.
We’re sorting lots of these this week. Choosing where to put which, what to do with this and could we do this with that?
Each time I touch these, open up take a look…
I always think to myself..these, just these
are actually my very best work.
Sometimes I ‘m amazed at what I find inside.
Soft, yet so strong..
Enough to build a life upon.
Deliciously pure and unobstructed in this state..tender, true, succinct.
Origins.
Heart beats.
Moments.
Time to choose which goes where, give them a little more scale..but keep them true and resonant..
Now there’s some fun.
The artist smiles…it’s like this very deep in private studio.
Giving into softness,
Is sometimes the surest way to strength…
I am drawn to silk tissue and gentle papers made in France.
Now..to sort…I think I’ll need more tea.
Little Lines
April 21, 2010 by Janice · 1 Comment
Graphite, Sennelier Extra-Fort Paper, Moleskine, Rhodia Pad, Janice Cartier, April 2010
Little lines strongly felt and fluidly made are like letters to a lover. The heart behind them beats in rhythm, in connection, in longing to capture delicacy and strength. Movement, a quickening if you will, effort for whatever is before you. Here on the far left, are branches contorted gracefully in Jean Lafitte rigolets. On the right, shore grasses edging Chandeleur Island in the Gulf.
They could just as well be figures, or faces, or a box.
It’s the caring, it’s the impulse, it’s the connection between hand and heart that supports the eyes.
If you are not fully present and engaged, meh, why bother?
You can be in like.
But the lines will show it.
If you come into the quiet, breathe deeply, pause, and really look…
Allow your eyes to take it in, let loose your heart to feel…
You’ll find those first lines you make, will set a different pace.
They’ll tell you more than height or length,
Light or shade,
They’ll speak to you of grace
And rhythm,
And the song it makes
Whatever IT is that is before you.
It’s there in that space between it and your heart…
That’s where little lines strongly felt and fluidly made are like letters to a lover.
And I like those lines much better.
Don’t you?
What Comes Before Color
March 24, 2010 by Janice · 3 Comments
Silk, Pacific Northwest Sketch Journal, Raw Canvas, Shells, Brush, Janice Cartier, March 2010
What DOES come before color? Or that first line on a page? Or that dance step, or that line of code? Is is need….or is it desire? And whose is it? Mine… or yours? For any creative thing to be born, there has to be an impulse to birth it. There has to be a playground for it to play on. And there has to be some something that niggles and teases and nags at us until no other thing will do but to give it room.
There’s this whole sort of before color that happens… pure line, pure shape, pure thought….
What if’s that whisper,
Although some of them shout.
Sensations we crave, as much as our breath.
The sound of a word, the tickle of light upon one form or another.
A delight, a puzzle, a mystery…
What is it that comes before color?
What is it that is so essential that against all logic, and necessary things to do..we must do this..and not that?
Is it the call of a luscious tone that will amplify a feeling?
A line that carries exuberance?
Or a shape that gives us pause?
Certain light tickles me, makes me stop in my tracks.
Some forms, I must touch, or die, draw, or cease to be,
Photograph, perhaps.
Certain rhythms I must hear, and translate…
Resonances I guess you would call them…
Is that what comes before color?
Sheer being in wonderment?
At the moment tonal whispers call to me, as much as vivid color,
I seem to want hints of tints,
As much as I want hue.
And I seem to be in love with simply making marks that meander, and ones that have a sharp edge and limits. Precision and chaos together.
And shapes,
I seem to have to trace shapes that I have loved, or touched, definite ones, but they morph into something else at will.
And I am letting them.
It’s like being in some estuarine closet and looking for that thing…
that thing that is both my desire, my response…my whole newness…
and at the same time…timelessly yours.
And that, to me, is what comes before color…that impulse to find…
Something that will last quite a bit longer than today
Sheer wonderment…
Not an easy thing.
Or perhaps…it is rather simple.
Maybe it is
Simply a choice…
A way of being.
A way of seeing.
A way of doing.
Open.
Present.
Listening,
Looking carefully.
What comes before color?
Exploration…don’t you think?
Process…in private studio.
Soft Marks
February 19, 2010 by Janice · 1 Comment
Sennelier Soft Pastels, Janice Cartier, February 2010
Soft Marks. I feel like making soft marks today. And suspensions, like a scrumptious word and extended phrases that chase across a page…
Soft marks..
That dip down and nip, stick, then scurry on…
Soft colors in suspension…
With an occasional edge above the water.
Tips.
Marks.
Edges that hint
Of treasures just below the surface coming to the light.
Like that dream I had two nights ago
Of sea turtles swimming into land.
One by one and in abundance,
They swam in with the tide…
So many,
So strong
With tender underbellies…
I want to hold them in my thoughts…
And look for echoes…
With some phrases that I found…
There’s an oyster in it, edges and echoes there.
Some ripples.
And some soft gentle whispers like kisses on soft skin…
Suspensions
Of time,
Of place..
At my fingertips…
And soft marks
Some with an edge,
A slice right through the surface.
I want to make soft marks today…and see what they could mean.
So soft french pastels?
Oui…
And something clear and slippery…to suspend them in.
Hm.
That’s the mood I’m in.
And later, Naughty beverages all round right? Cheers at five wherever you are…
Pushing Into The Mink
November 4, 2009 by Janice · 1 Comment
Imagine the velvet nose of the deer seeking water here. Imagine the sable dipped into color…and then pulled across the page…
Seeking.
Both seeking.
A sable loaded with sepia…a nose scenting water….
Seeking.
Nuzzling closer and closer.
Leaving footprints.
Leaving brushstrokes.
To mark their quest.
And what of those who come after?
To see hoofprints.
To see color.
Seekers too.
When this piece, the whole of it is finished,
And hung beautifully on some wall…
by a tender lover of art
in some broad expanse of space..
There will be more seekers coming..
There already are.
The name,
look at the name of this painting…
Deer Tracks Nearby…
You won’t see me paint them,
they are just implied
But they were there.
They told me,
paint this,
bring this into being.
For the seekers,
For myself,
And for the seekers
I don’t know…
What are we after?
Not sure, only guessing…
but I am pushing into the mink, the mystery, the prize…
thinking of footprints of hunger, of thirst…
that needs to be satisfied.