BALANCE

Balance, a principal that should probably apply to most, if not all of our endeavors to navigate a life.  I suppose the critical point, the one each individual has to determine for his or her self, is where to place the fulcrum.

As an artist I have faced this question repeatedly over the past 30 years.  Artists who are dependent on the income from their art must find the balance between creating for the market and creating for one’s self.  Even though the art I paint for myself is also popular in the market, I have had to deal with this issue from time to time.

It is only now, late in my career that this issue of balance has become more prevalent on a day-to-day basis.  Exposure to the work of other artists is often inspiring and educational, and has the potential to send my work off in another direction, one I would not have encountered on my own.  I never felt the need to tamper or lessen these encounters…until now.  At this stage in my life, I’m a few months away from my 75^th birthday, I feel a growing need to carefully choose my encounters with the world around me, while increasing the focus on my own work.  More than ever before I want my work to arise from a wellspring within me, hopefully refining a lifetime of labor.  I am not announcing my imminent demise, indeed, I hope to be around for a long time, but I am facing the reality of the tenuousness of my position, and thus the need for balance – to mine the work that is within me, while not allowing the work to become old, stale, and tired.  All that I have to do is figure out where to place the fulcrum.

CREATIVITY

I can only understand the process of creativity as it relates to my own work, and even then the understanding is incomplete and fragile. Of the many volumes written on the subject, The Courage to Create, by Rollo May has been most helpful to me. May proposes that the basic element in creativity is the encounter between the artist and the subject (or object). The artist’s response to the encounter, which can run the gamut of emotional and mental reactions, and the intensity of the response, is what generates the creativity.

This struck a chord with me. since from the very beginning my art was the result of my response to the urban environment. I loved the busy texture and fabric of the city streets with their storefronts, markets, and curbside signage and paraphernalia. I spent endless hours on the streets of Wilmington and Philadelphia with my sketchbook and camera gathering material for my paintings ( I have always been a studio artist, limiting by on site work to quick sketches.) After all of these years this attraction remains unabated, even though it is now shared with my love the rural landscape with assorted barns, trees, and big skies.

Because of this experience the notion that creativity arising out of an encounter resonated with me. The idea can easily be expanded to include more than the world around us. The artist can encounter a sound, an idea, or a memory; almost anything can elicit a creative response. The more an artist explores and paints the greater his or her facilities become, leading to an expanded area of interest and ambition, and greatly increases the chances for those significant encounters.

TIDES - THE EBB & FLOW OF WORK

Ebb Tide Pastel 20x30 NFS

Nature is cyclical, from the moon and tides, to the diurnal variations in the physiology of our bodies. There appears to be an innate ebb and flow to life, perhaps most often recognized by the emotional and psychological “ups and downs” that we all experience.
As an artist it seems to manifest itself in the periodic disappearance of the muses, times when the creative well runs dry and it takes every bit of will power to even step into the studio, let alone work.

I marvel at those who can spend some time every day working on their art, painting, drawing, or whatever their process may be. That seems to me to be a desirable thing to do. Unfortunately I have never been able to do so. Although I soon became aware of the ebb and flow of my art, it took some time before I learned not to fight it, but to accept it for what it was and try to turn it into something positive.

A typical pattern for me is to experience a burst of energy and enthusiasm lasting days to weeks, in which time I produce a number of pieces that I consider good work. Then before I realize the tide is turning, I get sloppy, begin working too quickly, and produce rubbish, and I know it is time to stop. Fortunately (or unfortunately) there is always some busy work that needs my attention in the studio, cleaning up, photographing art work, updating mailing lists, etc. If I don’t feel like do any of these, I simply sit back, put my feet up, and read. It is amazing how much reading I’m able to get done with my eyes closed.

I don’t try to buck the tides. Experience has taught me that the muses will be back in due time, and may even have something new and exciting for me.

ANXIETY, ART & GARLIC

Utter Chaos clay mono type 30x15

Painting is definitely not a relaxing exercise for me. In fact it is usually very stressful, especially as the painting progresses and I invest more and more myself in the work. For this reason I rarely work nonstop for more than 20-30 minutes at a time. Regardless of the medium (but more so with watercolors) I will work on a specific area of the painting and then stop, leave the table or room, work on something else, or do any number of other chores before coming back to the painting. One benefit of this practice is that it allows me to work on several projects/paintings at the same time. I suppose it might be different if I allowed myself to fail, but I want every painting to be the best it could be. So, the more it progresses, the more I worry about “messing up”. On those occasions when I work through a painting with a more nonchalant attitude the results are usually dismal.

I accept this anxiety as something positive that need not be avoided. Anxiety is to the artist what garlic is to the cook, enhancing!!


Overwrought clay mono type aprox 30x24

(the barn series will continue tomorrow)

JUST WHEN YOU THINK YOUR IN A GROOVE

Windows #18 24x24

For the past 2 months I have been working a series I call “window” paintings, many of which I have posted to this site. Slowly they have been evolving, but have generally retained a consistent theme and composition. I have enjoyed painting them, and have had hopes of using them to get the attention of one or more galleries.

Then it happened! An artist neighbor/friend, whose work and commitment to her art I greatly admire and respect stopped by the studio to see what I’ve been doing. Of course I proudly showed her my new work, and Teri, without hesitation, proceeded to offer her honest and critical opinion. She complimented me on what she felt was good and interesting in the work, but quickly moved on to discuss and question what I was going to do next; where was the work going, why, what was I trying to say? And isn’t time to stop using those trees?

That was late yesterday afternoon, since then I have not stopped thinking about our conversation and about the work. She has made me confront questions that I have been managing to avoid, and to think critically about the purpose of my work. Some of these issues I had already, in a small way, recognized, but for the most part her visit triggered a train of thought that might not have otherwise occurred

One broad question: How do we find the right balance between rational thought and intuition in our work, or, is it even necessary that we do? Trying to answer this only raises more question; what motivates the work, who are we painting for, and on and on and on.

One specific question about the window paintings; what am I attempting to do or say with these images? And, how about those trees!?

My attempt to answer that will be my next post.

ANOTHER MOMENT OF CLARITY

Pastel from 7-8 years ago aprox 14x18

Another moment of clarity? It has always been so obvious, and indeed known to me, albeit at a cerebral level. But this morning, while walking Fat Charlie, it “came to me”, out of nowhere. It was one of those moments when the obvious suddenly became a eureka moment, and I knew in my heart for the first time, what I’ve known in my head for a long time.

If I want to take my career as an artist to a higher level, if I want to reach a "higher" market and better galleries, then I have to take my work to a higher level. It sounds so obvious, and yet I have not kept that simple thought in my consciousness, instead I have been plodding along, waiting for my work to evolve on its own, without much conscious effort on my part. (Experience has taught me that the work will evolve itself, without a great deal of conscious effort on my part, but at its own pace.) That has to change if I want to move forward; I have to be more proactive.

That means I must be willing to take risks, and not seek the familiar and comfortable zones I have created for myself. The challenge will be to stay true to my self and continue to paint from my center, even as I push forward with how I see and interpret my subjects and how the work is executed.

I should strive to make each painting contain at at least one element that represents an improvement or a lesson learned from the previous work. A lofty goal, and one that won’t be easy to meet consistently. Like so many self admonitions, this too will have to be revisted repeatedly.

EBB & FLOW

On the Beach clay monotype

In art, much more so than in medicine, I have learned to recognize the ebb and flow of the nonphysical forces affecting my life: creativity, enthusiasm, energy, ambition, and self confidence, to name just a few. This is understandable, since making art is such a private, personal matter, usually accomplished alone, dependent on the ideas and energy that each artist is capable of bringing to the task. Medicine, on the other hand is very outer driven, with the demands and the pace of the work established by the unpredictable problems that confront the physician.

Recognizing the shifting nature of these numinous forces makes it easier for me to trust that my loss of self confidence where I think most of my work stinks, or the sudden lack of enthusiasm and ambition for anything and everything related to my studio are temporary and will soon pass. As a result, I no longer waste time and energy trying to fight these downturns and instead look for other ways to spend my time; there is an abundance of busy work that I can find to keep me occupied until the creative juices begin to flow again.

ART & MEDICINE

In the 27 years since I began dividing my time between medicine and art, this is the first time I have attempted to write about how these 2 endeavors effect one another. And as unbelievable as it may sound, the first time I’ve really thought about it with any seriousness.

I left private practice for part-time work in an emergency room. For 4 years I alternated 3 months of full time ER work with 3 months in my studio. During that time I was acutely aware of the conflicting demands on my psyche. In the emergency room it became necessary to mentally and emotionally “close down” in order to deal with all that a busy city ER required of its staff. In contrast, during the 3 months in my studio I felt the need to open myself to all of the sensory and visual delights that were feeding my creative needs. The conflicting impact of medicine and art during those 4 years was easy to identify. Beyond that, the relationship between the two becomes more compatible.

I have never been aware of any conflict between my art and the practice of medicine (other than a desire for more time to paint). I applied myself to both in the only way I knew how, without any conscious effort to be anything other than myself. The ER experience did not repeat itself when I worked in an urgent care facility or when I returned to private practice 8 years later.

The difference, especially in my practice, was the relationship with the patients. In the practice there was an established, emotional bond between the patient and me that would often become a long term relationship. I encouraged and nurtured that relationship by being open and receptive to their needs and fears, and being present to them, honestly, without hiding behind my role as a physician. And this is the way I see myself functioning as an artist, openly and honestly responding to my encounters with the world around me, finding creative inspiration from these encounters. In a similar fashion, the most gratifying part of medicine has always been my encounters with the patients, easing their fears and concerns, providing hope and comfort, or simply gaining their trust. Art and medicine both require openness, sensitivity, and compassion.

A dear patient and artist once told me, “the doctor is not an artist, the artist is a doctor”.

Wrestling With My Art...1

I would like to talke a break from medicine and spend some time on the stuggles associated with a life in art. It should be obvious by now to regular readers that my writing habits mirror my painting habits, I move from place to place.
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Living in a growing community of artists has its advantages and disadvantages. On the plus side is the camaraderie, support, and inspiration it provides. On the downside is the risk of getting caught up in the art of others and losing site of your own purpose and goals.

Early in my career as an artist I was steadfast in my resolve not to look at what the other artists were doing but to remain focused on my own work. That was good advise then, and still is, but in retrospect I can see why it was easier to heed at that time.

My newly acquired skills and creative impulses were quite narrow and focused, and I had no desire to do anything other than what I was doing. Also, I was being very successful and felt no need to change. The situation is very different now. I find myself interested in a wide variety of approaches to my art, both in technique and in subject matter. The simple drawings and paintings of the past no longer satisfy me. I am interested now in more interpretive and abstract expression. In addition, my goals are greater; I want to reach a higher level of success, artistically and commercially, both regionally and nationally with significant gallery representation. Finally there is the limited commercial success I am currently enjoying which calls everything I do or don’t do into question .

Thus I find myself somewhat confused and unsure about what my artistic goals are, or whether there even are such a things. Looking at it in another way...when am I painting from my center, honestly following my heart, and when am I just chasing after some elusive goal by painting what I think will get me there? Or...when am I painting for myself as opposed to others?

I have been surprised at how vulnerable I have been to the influence of the other artists at this stage in my career. But then I have never had such intimate exposure to so many for so long as I have here in Lowertown. The challenge has been to receive the creative inspiration that is all around me, without allowing it to distract me from my own creative voice. Doing that has required a lot of work on my part, especially during the first few years here. At this time, I feel I am able to do so, and the only battles I have now are with myself.

(revised from a 2003 journal entry)