Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Missing the mark

Guthrie Beach. Oil on canvas, 11x14.

Today, I was not painting the way I want to be painting. I go through these periods, and they make me uncomfortable. But I know that when I am feeling like this, it means that I'm seeing more, and am reaching for more. These stretches have come to presage growth in me and change - and so while they make me unhappy in the moment, I'm OK with them.

I set out this morning to paint fog and mist, but by the time I got my act together, the mist had burned off and I was left with a clear, sunny day. Still, I found myself at the beach, where I'd been headed in the morning's gray hours.

I became very much attracted by the deep, shiny blue that the waves leave as they pull back from the beach. I've never really seen this the way I saw it this morning, and as I struggled to paint it (any suggestions would be very welcome!), a woman whom I'd seen jogging came back and asked if she could look.

I cringed a little, because my painting felt so stiff and so far off the mark, but I said sure, and as we talked, we realized that we knew each other, that we had gone to school together and our mothers had been very good friends.

Gwendolyn (Moore) Basilica was a bright, friendly girl when we were young, and is now a bright, friendly woman. And she's an amazing artist, working in glass. She makes mosaics, among other things, and has done tons of work, floors and installations, all over the place, including Mohegan Sun. You can see an example of her work, and read a story about her, by clicking here.

So, all in all, it was a good morning's painting. I learned some stuff and got some ideas, and found an old friend who is doing well.


Jill said...

Hey. I just had to say that there's something really in this painting. That abstract note that you strive for is very consistenly spread across the painting.. the sky, the water, the sand. I mean I know it's not perfect, but nothing stands out as not belonging. It's all at the same point, in the same voice. for what it's worth

carrie jacobson said...

That's interesting, Jill. If I look a little sideways, I think I can see what you're talking about! Different eyes. Thank you.