I feel guilty that I have not produced a new post. Last year I committed to regularly write this blog, possibly every two weeks. Here are reasons why I have not kept this commitment.
Conflict of Interest
Life has offered other tempting activities. Winter came late to Nova Scotia, so I skied the final sunny cold days. Travel planning, drawing and painting occupied my attention. By the end of the day, I felt too tired to work on the blog. I feel guilty that other parts of my life are more important than blogging.
No Value
The blog is not a newspaper that reports events (no matter how mundane) to a paid readership. It’s a waste of effort to create trivial posts just to meet a schedule.
Not all trivial things stay trivial. Seinfeld, one of the most sitcoms, was a show about ‘nothing’. The humour was in the mundane aspects of daily life.
“There’s more to life than making shallow, fairly obvious observations.”
I won’t publish what I had for breakfast or where I went for my walk. Those may be good topics for Facebook.
Rejected Headlines
Here are a few headlines that I won’t be writing.
Failed Expectations
Other Priorities
Some posts haven’t worked out. I was hoping to present the ideas and works of other artists. I was hoping to discuss the influence of artificial intelligence and radical technologies on art.
These ideas require more research, effort, and insight than I am willing to devote. They may become feasible in the future.
Solution: Quality Over Quantity
A rejected painting
I should only write posts that offer value. I need to reject weak proposals.
The content has to be organized and well written. I should only write and publish articles that meet a high standard.
Half Way Isn’t Far Enough
I have several posts waiting in the queue. They need refinement, revision, editing and imagery to complete the narrative.
Half-done posts should not be published. Like the paintings below they are not ready for viewing, I need to be fully satisfied before I reveal the final product.
Half Done Paintings
Completion
My commitment is to produce fewer but better posts. I need to convert incomplete ideas into finalized works.
Be patient. Keep plugging. Keep working slowly but steadily. The final product should be worth waiting for!
Some beautiful chapters in this book called life, always remain incomplete.”
It’s 2024 and time for new resolutions. What needs to change?
As I work on this post, I am eating breakfast while I check my phone for emails. Music is playing, as I stretch my sore knee and type another sentence. The day is rushing by as my mind jumps from thought to thought. I won’t feel happy until this post is published. This busyness has a familiar pattern.
Business and Busyness
I have worked hard all my life. When I retired from my science career, I became a full-time art student. After my BFA, I began a career in art.
For a decade I immersed myself in the art business. I built a portfolio, developed a niche, and made lots and lots of paintings. I networked, marketed and sold my art. It was (and is) stressfully satisfying. I have always been busy.
Creating Time
Over the decades I prioritized efficiency and speed to create more time for productivity.
I multitasked everything I could. I planned breakfast when I showered, evaluated traffic when I ate and theorized science as I commuted.
I juggled 3 or 4 activities simultaneously. I would read a book, listen to music, look after the baby, and do yoga.
Chasing Carrots
Multitasking was a carrot for saving time and completing my ‘to do’ list.
I rushed through everything I could. No time to waste! Why walk when you could run? I learned to speed read and paint fast. I crammed my day with frenetic activity.
I set goals, some small, some large, some unattainable. My happiness depended on these markers of success. I delayed any gratification to only the highest outcomes. Pain was part of the gain. Happiness depended on success.
Rushing Roulette
While I was highly productive in reaching goals. I had a problem: my mind was always somewhere else and one step ahead. The destination was my top priority and much was lost in this preoccupation.
The future was my focus, and the present always seemed a distraction and not a place to linger. I regret the moments I never savoured. I didn’t stop to hear my son’s laugh or enjoy my dog’s playfulness. I had been gambling the present for some unreachable future. I still am gambling away the present.
If happiness was the destination, the satisfaction was short lived. As quickly as one goal was attained, new ones were set. The train headed for a new destination before I could appreciate where I was. I was always on my way to somewhere else.
Limited
I am riding on a limited express, one of the crack trains of the nation. Hurtling across the prairie into blue haze and dark air go fifteen all-steel coaches holding a thousand people. (All the coaches shall be scrap and rust and all the men and women laughing in the diners and sleepers shall pass into ashes.) I ask a man in the smoker where he going and he answers: “Omaha.”
I realize I have been on the express train to Omaha most of my adult life. I don’t want to take that train anymore. I look out the window and see life flashing past as a blur as I wait for Omaha to come into view. Then what?
Something big is missing. Satisfaction or contentment? It’s time I resolve to change how I live.
“… To the mortal man We work our jobs Collect our pay Believe we’re gliding down the highway When in fact we’re slip slidin’ away Slip slidin’ away Slip slidin’ away You know the nearer your destination The more you’re slip slidin’ away”
Paul Simon- Slip Sliden Away
Resolving to Change
I have made my happiness and satisfaction depend on future destinations. Getting off the express train doesn’t mean my journey is over. I need to change my concept of living. I no longer need to be so efficient or accomplished. I want to find a slower heartfelt trail- where I can smell the honeysuckle.
Exploring Plaster
Painted Bottles
I want unstructured time. I want curiosity without regard to commercial sales. I want to paint portraits, carve wood, and make coloured glass bottles. I want to mess around.
I need to change my lifelong habits of rushing and multi-tasking my life.
Can I make the present more important than the future? Is it the journey itself that counts?
I have been telling myself “I will be happy when I get there’.
Maybe I need to say ‘I can be happy while I am getting there.”
I need to find out.
I am being driven forward into an unknown land. The pass grows steeper and the air colder and sharper. A wind from my unknown goal stirs the strings of expectation. Still the question- Shall I ever get there? There, where life resounds, A clear pure note In the silence
Publishing the agingartist blog has been gratifying. The more I publish, the more I feel motivated to address new topics.
As I ponder what to do, I stare out the window. My mind seems preoccupied as I contemplate the view. Is this procrastination or something else?
The Creative Process
Beginning a creative process seems chaotic. It starts with questions rather than answers. What am I curious about? What do I want to learn? What is making news in art?
From this cloud of questions come possibilities. How does technology influence art making? Are we oversaturated with imagery? What makes an image meaningful?
How do I turn these fuzzy thoughts into publishable material? That’s my problem.
Deduction and Induction
We use two thought processes, deduction and induction, to solve problems.
We often start with deduction: breaking a problem down into logical parts, then analysing each part for solutions. It’s like taking a motor apart and reassembling it with better components.
Perspiration or Inspiration
Sometimes a problem is unsolvable using deductive methods alone. We can hit a roadblock with no obvious way ahead. We get the urge to get up from the desk and pace around the room, or stare blankly out the window.
I was always puzzled by this urge to stop and take a break. I felt that I needed to think harder and to keep my nose to the grindstone until I cracked the problem. That approach often doesn’t work.
At an impasse we need to rethink the problem and consider unusual ‘outside the box’ possibilities . At this frustration point, we need to switch to inductive thinking.
Amnesia
?????
To digress, consider what happens when we can’t recall a name. Suppose we forget the name of a person we haven’t seen in awhile, or the name of an old movie, book or song. Try as we might, we can’t remember that ##@$# name! When we give up trying and resume other activities, the forgotten name suddenly comes to mind. Ah ha!
Inspiration
Unconscious Mind
Sometimes the unconscious part of me needs to take over the problem. It uses a myriad of circuits and processes that the conscious mind cannot access.
It takes time for the inductive process to digest the information in this unknowable way. That’s when the urge stop and stare out the window strikes. The subconscious mind is telling the deductive mind to go away. In the background while I am preoccupied with other things, my subconscious is fully engaged with the problem. When I am out on a walk, doing household chores, or at 4 am when I can’t sleep, a solution to will present itself, seemingly out of nowhere. Amazing and wonderful!
Is this inspiration at work? Unlike deductive thinking which follows a logical sequence of steps to a solution, inductive thinking or intuition is a mysterious process. It is the basis of creativity.
Deciding on topics for this blog requires retrieving information accumulated over a lifetime and buried in my memory. I need to relax and let the innate ‘Google’ inside of me find what I am looking for. The ‘light bulb’ will glow once the sunconscious mind is ready.
Intuition and Painting
Inductive thinking is a crucial ingredient of painting. We start with an vast number of options: what to paint and how to paint. We need to decide on topics, composition, medium, style, etc., etc. Our intuition makes some choices.
We start by deductively choosing colours and making marks .
Eventually these ideas are depleted. We pause and take a break while unconsciously thinking about the painting. A few hours or days later we return and see the painting with fresh eyes. This ‘deduce, pause, induce/ inspire’ cycle repeats over and over. The end product is often a surprise and not anything like our initial idea.
Here is a photograph that inspired a painting and the final landscape.
Original Photo and Final Painting
My idea of a productive day, as both a child and an adult, was reading for hours and staring out the window.“
Here is an interesting story about windows. I once worked at a research laboratory that had a beautiful outlook over the ocean with snow-covered mountains on the horizon.
View of Juan d Fuca Strait and the Olympic Mountains
Strangely, the large windows in every office were high on the wall so you could not see the marvelous view unless you were actually standing at the window.
Research Laboratory with high windows
I was told that the original laboratory manager had the building designed to prevent scientists from wasting time looking out the windows at the view. He must have been a deductive thinker and consequently quelled the creation of countless inspired ideas.
Looking out of windows is not procrastination: it is part of the creative process!
The results of my inductive contemplations will be evident in my future 2023 blog posts.
I have always aspired to be part of the ‘In Crowd’. These are the people with the talent, beauty, or wealth that formed an inner circle of elites. To belong to this exclusive group is the mark of success and status. In high school I was envious of classmates who were more popular, more athletic, more handsome. I wanted what they had. I was unhappy about my inadequacy.
When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state, And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries, And look upon myself and curse my fate, Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featured like him, like him with friends possessed, Desiring this man’s art and that man’s scope, With what I most enjoy contented least;…
As a consequence, I imagined there must be a hierarchy of people based on their talent, beauty or wealth. The beautiful, rich and talented ones were superior to me while all others were in some way inferior. I envied those I judged to be superior and ignored those who were far below. This judgment colours many social situations.
Chasing Success
Society seems to reward achievement. Fame and reward go to those who succeed. Since I was a boy I have had this desire to be better than I am. I had to learn, study, and practice to be better in all aspects of my life.
In my need to succeed, I based my personal worth on performance. My sense of well being was dependent on approval. Instead of accepting that I was not musical or good at baseball, I concluded that I was a flawed person because of my poor skills. Even in activities I was good at, I found people who were better (hence superior) to me.
Much of my adult life I have felt an inadequacy about my capabilities, particularly in art. I still see the hierarchy that defines my place within the art world. I want to be invited into ‘In Crowd’, but often feel on the outside looking in and looking up.
Worthy or Not?
Awareness of my attitude came while attending my son’s grade 2 Christmas concert. As each class performed, I looked at the children. I noticed the kids with the best costume, the best voice, or the prettiest appearance.
Who Do I see?
Then I heard an inner voice say “Look at the children who are unseen”. I started seeing the plain kids, the shy ones, and those I judged to be unattractive. I suddenly felt terrible. Aren’t all children worthy of consideration?
In that moment I saw an ugly truth about my attitude. Those I judged above me deserved my respect. Those below were ignored and unworthy of my attention.
Who is worthy?
Who am I to judge anyone’s worth? Aren’t we all worthy of acceptance and inclusion? Can I be accepted even if I fail to impress? Maybe if I accepted others for their present capabilities, I could feel accepted too.
It’s not only others who I am shunning. I am also shunning parts of me that I consider inferior. Can I bring myself back into wholeness with a more inclusive outlook?
As I get older, the more I stay focused on the acceptance of myself and others, and choose compassion over judgment and curiosity over fear.“
No wonder my need for achievement was so important. If I failed to perform, I would be unworthy. I would feel shame in the presence of superior artists. My artwork would be judged and dismissed by the serious art world.
Still wanting to join an exclusive club of ‘successful’ artists is misdirected effort. Rather than feeling despondent that I am not a leading artist, or a prestigious award winner or a media favourite, it’s time that I accepted myself for who I am as an artist. Rather than lamenting what I am not, I want to feel that I have a role in the art scene.
I Don’t Want to Belong to Any Club That Will Accept Me as a Member
I no longer want the art world to feel like an elitist hierarchy where I feel excluded. I want the art world to be a community of unique creators. I want to embrace the community of artists that I already know. I want to welcome artists who may be unseen and unappreciated.
All artists start as novices. Like the children in the Christmas concert, we are first unseen and unrecognized. Through continuous effort and years of practice we work our way to success and recognition. The journey starts with the sheer love of making marks on paper, doodling or mixing colours. These worthy activities are necessary for something new to arise.
Making marks, splashing colour, doodling, finding sermons in stones, patterns in wood
Accepting Results
Not everyone climbs to the top of the art pyramid. Recognition and reward often lie beyond our control. We need to accept the rewards we are given. That should be perfectly fine. Our self worth is not dependent on achievement. We can be satisfied with the effort we make. The true reward is the journey we take in pursuing our dreams.
The journey between what you once were and who you are now becoming is where the dance of life really takes place. –
Our figure drawing studio has started after a summer layoff. For 3 hours every Tuesday artists gather to draw an undraped model. The sessions combine my love of drawing and my appreciation of the human body.
Having the opportunity to draw real people is essential for developing a wide artistic repertoire. We draw the human figure in various poses and practise portraiture. Our models are people of all ages, sizes, shapes, and gender (including ‘they’).
Ideal Versus Real
How we view our physical bodies is strongly affected by social media and popular culture. Their focus is on youth, athleticism, and glamour. We feel pressure to emulate fashion models, movie-stars and athletes. We are exhorted to be lean, lithe and muscular. Flawless skin, high cheekbones, wavy hair, and big blue eyes are envied.
Faces and figures in magazines, on social media, and television are Photoshopped idealizations. They are unworldly in comparison to the majority of real people. Reality lies with ordinary faces and bodies which seem plain and imperfect by comparison.
Our models are real people. They offer a wide variety of bodies and faces to observe, explore and draw. Its one thing to look at our nakedness in privacy. Courage and confidence are required for models to pose in all their magnificence while artists gaze intently and intensely.
Imperfection is Perfection
I am not saying this well. I am not judging the models as being imperfect. While some models are young, many are wrinkled and gray. They are perfect for who they are. My artistic mission is to to portray their essence in an expressive and realistic manner. If I do this well, I will find beauty.
Finding beauty
I appreciate that beauty lies in the eye of the beholder. I sometimes find myself judging the model as attractive (from an artistic perspective) or not so desirable. When I focus on drawing what I see, I discover there is beauty to be revealed. It could be in the shapes, the repose, the action or the mood. Its a wonderful transformation and one of the reasons life drawing is so rewarding.
Accepting Myself
I am reassured by our models that bodies at all ages, in all shapes and in all enthnicities are beautiful. Our variations enhance our personality and individuality. It would be a shame if we stopped liking our bodies after middle age.
Drawing real people has helped me in this lifelong quest to love my own face and body. Can I accept my own physical peculiarities- such as my slanted eyes, baldness, and knobby knees? I don’t need to be perfect. I too am beautiful in my own unique way.
Wanting More
Because drawing is fun and endlessly rewarding, I want more. I want to improve and to experiment. In my next post I will examine mark making and how a few lines and strokes can create a beautiful figure.
