120 hours of chaos conversion. Finished another garden painting. I start them by splashing colors onto a canvas. Out of the mess I get from the splashing of lots of different colors on a canvas, comes possibilities. I spend anywhere from 120 to 200 hours making sense out of what I see before me. Flowers come to mind most times. I find this way of painting the most relaxing and quite stimulating. It is my way of tossing off the restriction of a subject. I do find subjects involving a living creature rewarding as well, like the nude, where mistakes are so clearly visible, even to a child.
Teaching to me is telling a student, “It's your canvas to do what you want.” Is the subject meaningful to you? My landscapes are scenes from my past. Sunday car rides with Dad giving a history lesson of what appears to be a corn field. That painting of a barn? It’s the story of Great Great Granddad who fought in the Civil War.
The chaotic garden growing on my canvas teases and delights my mind. That splash of blue wants attention again, I call on my past. What were those flowers Mom had Dad build a trellis on the side of the garage for? A sip of hot chocolate, a turn about in my chair and a faint vision gives me the stroke I need. A dying geranium leaf catches my eye as I take another quick spin in my worn chair of creation. Where to put it? It is just the shape for that muted red that mixed with the green running wild across the canvas.
Richard was right when he said never pick off a dying leaf from a plant, let it fall off when it's ready. Past and present are elements in every painting. Mom's garden and Dad's stories emerge from my palette with every painting. Life is always my subject.
