In these blogs I share my solitary perspectives of my choice to become a painter. Each painter is different yet the question is the same for each of us as painters, what is it I am going to paint? For myself, each time I engage in the decision process of what I will paint, my experience is different for each painting. I have no set of formulas but rather a sifting of ideas until one emerges. It is this sifting of ideas I find as one of the most fascinating and rewarding experiences of being a painter.
On the farm where I was raised, a few miles from where I am writing, there is a grainery building where we stored our harvested oats. On the lower floor of the building was this antique contraption with a large wooden tray on top and hand crank on the side. It was a winnowing machine. The oats were dumped into the tray and you cranked the handle setting it all into motion. Trays would shake and the hand blower would sift the chaff out of the oats and through a small chute on the side the sifted oats would come out. I used it many times in my youth and I have often thought about that contraption as I reflect on what I am going to paint.
I talk about a “Decision Process” when in reality it is sometimes more like herding random thoughts and observations into a meaningful idea for a painting. It is important for me to paint with intent, and the decision of what I will paint is also just as important. Though each painting is born from different origins they share some common features of this intent.
My retired artist friend would quip at various times, “I am an artist, I am trained to observe!” I have never been trained but observing the world around me has been a constant part of my existence since my first memories in life. When I look at the world I am constantly varying my perspective of what I am looking at. I will dial in or out, left or right, up or down. I will search for all kinds of values and ask what they mean. The question of meaning is not meant to be analytical or philosophical, but searching for a meaning that can be revealed. Like a music composer searching for a note or chord that reveals the meaning of an emotion or sentiment in the music being created. I am a fan of jazz for that reason.
Whatever the image I am looking at, I search for a resonance or what might be called dynamic quality. That resonance is sometimes incomplete but I sense it is there. I have to climb up and down a ladder to access my attic studio. I installed a vertical 2×6 with handles to sturdily grab unto as I am ascending or descending. One night I was descending and had a headlamp on. I took the first step down and turned my headlamp toward the handles. There was a small ¼ inch knot in the 2×6 that was looking at me. I stopped and really looked at it closely. Its details were super tiny, yet rich. Patterns of tiny rings surrounded by a reddish brown circle and framed by soft tones of wood. In this tiny knot, I found some kind of resonance. When I descended I grabbed my notebook to make some basic notes of what I saw and found. Though I now take notes, it wasn’t always like that, but I have since learned it makes ideas easier to find.
After discovering an image with some kind of resonance, the next question is how I might capture the resonance in a painting. This leads to another set of quick notes to consider like what colors I might use, sequence of layering specific colors, perhaps a new texture I will need to create, what is the overall composition or maybe special features I want to be sure to capture. In reality all my notes are very crude, however a possibility of a painting is emerging. The paintings I do are not photorealistic recreation, but rather an interpretation of the resonance I found. I have painted enough paintings to understand what I paint is a product of my humanity through my eyes. If I am successful, what I paint will resonate in other people.
As I near the end of painting I know the question will arise, so what will I paint next? Sometimes the next painting is based on something I recently saw and experienced, where I feel so strongly about what I am going to paint, no notes are necessary. I just start painting out of the gates, but this is rare. Most of the time I go through my notebooks and start sifting through the ideas and think about the winnowing machine. I have dozens of ideas I have collected, but having a lot of ideas doesn’t necessarily mean all are worthy of painting. Sometimes I will see an idea that has promise but I sense it isn’t ready yet and perhaps I will make some additional notes to tease it out more and let it pass and let it percolate. Then I get to the point where I will settle on 3 or 4 ideas and sift some more. I think about which one has the best chance of creating something special. In most instances by the time I start a painting a considerable amount of thought has gone into it.
For me it is a privilege to paint. To have the audacity to create something and the vulnerability to share it with the world. It takes serious effort to decide what to paint, painting after painting. That effort is initially rewarded upon the painting’s completion to my standards and vision. I look at it and there is a sense of satisfaction. I know a viewer of my painting is taking a moment in their lifetime to look at and consider something I have created. If I have done my job well, that moment of seeing my world through my painting will resonate with them and which is where the real reward is.
Metsa Studio 