In my previous post, I briefly wrote about my frustrations with a series of abstract compositions that I couldn't decide whether I liked or not; or where it was going. But I refused to give up. Like the Energizer Bunny, I kept going and going and going.....Turns out the hours spent in the studio finally paid of. The image above is one of the four pieces I completed, which has taken me down an unprecedented path in my painting.
There was no magic trick or short cut. It just literally took time and attention. I eventually overcame the crippling effect the original compositions had on me, and was able to navigate my way through them. Why be fearful of your own creation? Well, it mostly had to do with a big fat question mark of where to go from there. Sometimes, I edit myself to the point where moving forward seems like the option for doom. Move forward and you'll wreck whatever you started. This is a common trap for me, which leaves many of my pieces prematurely born. No good, if your intention is to push boundaries and most importantly, experiment. This is not a competition for "prettiest piece"--it's no beauty pageant. This is a quest to disarm oneself in such a way that new ideas are born out of unabated creative hunger.
I've been working on a small series of abstract compositions using a different color palette from what I'm used to, and a slightly different technique of painting. I am liking what I see, but I am also driving myself crazy with my impatience. I am having some "control" issues, which is keeping me from unzipping and letting go to create free flowing work. For some reason, these shapes have a constraining power over me and I can't seem to work around them. They are playing tricks on me. But I know I have to be patient. I have to let it go: the idea that I may not like the result of what I'm currently doing. The process of painting (creativity in general) is not just about knowing what works for you; but also knowing what does not. Let it go!
me back in 2006 preparing for my first solo exhibition in the Philippines
My painting is undergoing an almost complete overhaul. My rhythm and flow has not changed much, but my style and subject matter has seen some serious renovations. As a young artist in the Philippines, exhibiting solo for the first time in 2006, I introduced myself as an abstract painter heavily influenced by the Abstract Expressionists of the New York School in the 1960s. The likes of Robert Motherwell, Jackson Pollock, Willem de Kooning, Franz Kline (et al) taught me how to find myself on the canvas and to discover nature itself as it emerged from the process of automatic action-painting.
For the last four years I labored under this style of painting--exploring color and line in ways which transgressed the conventions of representational or figurative painting. The "freedom to express"--however vague this may be--was the intention itself. And the way in which I communicated this intention was to emphasize the subliminal power of our creative impulse in producing compositions that deny dictation and instead evolve organically--unhindered by aesthetic rules or structural blue prints. I use to say that the key challenge (and perhaps the only rule) to this process was the need to suspend criticism for as long as possible. The moment I stop to think about what I'm doing, is the exact moment that could bring doubt, uncertainty and instability to a piece of work. "Thinking" is anathema. "Doing" (and getting lost in the act of doing) is key to solving the mysteries of creation (breaking it down to its very core) and understanding the human condition. The act of painting is synonymous to the act of discovering.
A lot of this is changing for me. Not in the sense of denying one mutually exclusive path for the next, but in building up from a foundation that had already been laid. I have no doubt that abstraction will forever be at the very crux of what I do with my art. However, the abstraction at play in my work today lends itself to a slightly different set of organizing principles. It's early days still, but my work is moving into the realm of narrative drawing/painting. Quite simply: I am interested in telling a story.
This gradual shift is a fascinating one to me--and one which does not come without a huge set of challenges. I have moved into a world of imagery and illustration where my compositions can seem somewhat surreal, and yet, hold meaning through the ways in which the images are organized in relation to each other. I am still using the same techniques of automatic drawing, making sure that nothing is held back. In fact, making mistakes is still fundamental to the painting process.
The one crucial difference is that I am thinking about every step of the process, and the composition as a whole. My perception has grown to include not only what is in front of me, but the next three or four steps ahead of what I plan to lay down. It is unnerving, not because I am incapable of seeing beyond what is in front of me, but because I am in completely new territory. I am making the kinds of mistakes that I am not use to making.
New image on the homepage of my website. Collage and ink. Simple.
My typical breakfast of eggs on toast
Random fact about myself: I cannot start my day without breakfast. I'm useless without it. My body will automatically go on starvation mode otherwise. I hate this mode; it feels like my stomach is attempting to digest itself literally. Breakfast is my brain food. I can't hit the studio without it. Now, lunch and dinner I've been able to skip before--depending on what's kept me from listening to the ominous gurgling sounds of my digestive system. Moving lunch to 4 or 5 pm can happen quite a bit, especially when I am in the middle of wet paint and idea bubbles about to burst. But nothing--and I mean NOTHING--gets in between me and my breakfast.
Armed with a bottle of red wine, I decided to re-organize my plastic Office Max storage unit filled with sketches, drawings, research and various other artsy bits and bobs. I came across these sketches which I had completely forgotten about. They are sketches from my favorite figure drawing sessions in the Lower East Side, back when I was living in New York City (2007-09). I loved these sessions because they had incredibly diverse models--some partially dressed in theatrical costumes, others fully nude--and always had three or more sessions simultaneously taking place: you had the 30 min poses, the 5 min, 2 min then 1 minute poses. In under an hour I would have a sketchbook filled with incredibly diverse lines, angles and compositions, using all types of material from the traditional charcoal and graphite, to pens and inks.
The artist who runs the place, Michael Alan, always had great ideas for these "Draw-A-Thons", as he calls them. These sessions have been described as "a figure drawing and performance art marathon that offers an alternative to conventional figure drawing by adding narrative, theatrical, and musical components in a public space where artists create and form community."
If you are in New York and would like to check them out, either go to Michael's website or email him at artisticrevolution@gmail.com about upcoming sessions (the location may have moved to DUMBO). I highly recommend them.
I came across this illustration by Steve Powers today. I think this pretty much sums up the daily drudgery of a classic 9-5 cubicle-bound existence. The word "tired" comes to mind when I reflect back on my days as an office monkey. "Productive" does not. I was definitely "high on tired". I can assure you the motivation in this kind of setting ranges from slim to none. My little shovels attempted some serious digging at times, but only to discover that like the picture, my light bulb stayed buried deeper than I'd dared to venture. Inspiration was lost among the piles of paperwork to "process" and ridiculous emails to respond to. Not a single independent act was warranted without permission from a boss who didn't even know how to navigate a Word document. My imagination had run away, incensed by what I had subjected it to, and was nowhere to be found.
In my previous post, I briefly wrote about my frustrations with a series of abstract compositions that I couldn't decide whether I liked or not; or where it was going. But I refused to give up. Like the Energizer Bunny, I kept going and going and going.....Turns out the hours spent in the studio finally paid of. The image above is one of the four pieces I completed, which has taken me down an unprecedented path in my painting.
