Finding my Direction

There is a big black canvas bag in my studio filled with files containing sketches, photos, and various references for my new series. As usual, I have many pieces planned and they are big, dramatic, and each is a huge undertaking. That's not a bad thing. If I am anything, I am a determined extremist.

It's actually more like four series. I've planned several more "Rain" pieces.  They are intricate, but once

I get started, my subconscious takes over. They seem to be my most popular pieces lately.

The second series, which I can't wait to begin, is a sort of mundane surrealism. The grim reaper vacuuming his living room, a ninja pushing a baby stroller, a mermaid and a yeti embracing. Over-the-top characters involved in everyday activities.



The third, which I'm unsure about, is scenes from above. The students in my art class working, the coffee shop that we frequent for open mics. Gatherings of creative folks interacting from a birds-eye-view. I'm still working out how to take the reference photos. I managed to get a good one of the art class, with the help of a nimble young student with climbing abilities that I don't have.

The fourth, and most personal and intimate, is what I consider a visual documentation of my family of artists, musicians, writers, and poets. Mostly mixed media, some will be like my "I'll Make it to the Moon if I Have to Crawl". Others will be more traditional paintings, but from unusual perspectives.





I may start with a self portrait, which makes me very nervous. I've taken some reference shots.

My idea is to create a visual history of the people in my life. Millville, which is about 10 minutes away from Bridgeton, built an arts district 10 years ago. Last year, it was named America's Top Arts District in a well-respected national arts magazine. On third Fridays, we spend the evening in the district, socializing at the coffee shop and then listening to live music at Brainchurch, a psychedelic, bohemian hang out run by local celebrity, Sitarbob.

Millville, along with Brenner's Brew http://www.youtube.com/user/brennersbrew#g/a in Bridgeton, is like home to us. (Watch Bob propose to me last year at Brenner's: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WB5_P4RLckE ). My family is this group of misfit poets, musicians, and artists who work and play together.

I was at a monthly artists' party and it dawned on me that this could be important. The room I was in, the people around me, reminded me of an art history book. You've read about pockets of creatively-minded people all working together in one place. Usually, when an artist becomes "famous", he's not all by himself working in his studio. He's usually (not always) part of a movement or a group or a district. His contemporaries' work, whether it's music or paintings or writing, becomes well-known because of their associations. A mini renaissance.

Of course, this place and time may have no historical significance whatsoever, but I don't know of any situation within my lifetime, anywhere in the world, that has a better opportunity than here, now. So I'm taking advantage of it the best I can. My series will be portraits of these people doing what they do. Some group scenes to show what it's like, how it feels to be part of this.

I've spent the last year feeling pretty lost. Tired from the cycle of exhibits, and wondering if I was getting anywhere. I needed a new direction. I've decided to take the next year or so off from showing. I will probably participate in an exhibit now and then, but I need to give birth to something new. My plan, or perhaps my hope is a better word, is to complete these works and then expand into new territories. I've joined DaVinci Art Alliance in Philly, http://www.davinciartalliance.org/, and would like to do more in the city. I may be bold and ask for solo shows. The worst that can happen is to be turned down. Rejection usually doesn't bother me, I've developed a thick artistic skin.

My friend and fellow artist, Jay Helfrich, lent me a book, "Art and Fear".  http://www.amazon.com/Art-Fear-Observations-Rewards-Artmaking/dp/0961454733/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1266830813&sr=1-1     I've only read the first couple chapters so far, but I'm convinced it was written specifically for me. So far, the most important revelation is that when a painting fails, it doesn't mean I'm a failure. The screw ups are just as important as the great ones, and there are and will continue to be many, many more unsuccessful pieces. You learn from each one. So, I have about 40 pieces planned. If I end up with 15 to show, great. I wouldn't have felt the same way a year ago.

I completed three mixed media pieces before Christmas and am happy with the results. They are on wood plates, and I just let myself go and have fun.

I've been teaching ArtWorks, a program for high school students who are recommended by their art teachers or guidance counselors. 

These are kids who want to create. They are talented and love to come to class. The pieces they make continue to amaze me. So far, they have created paintings in the style of Georgia O'Keeffe

and Chuck Close.

I am proud to be their teacher and find the program extremely fulfilling, I hope the students do as well. There will be an exhibit at the RRCA at the end of the program featuring their work, I'm looking forward to it.