Stepping Into The Unknown.

Sometimes the only way to discover what’s coming next is to step into the abyss.

“There is no passion to be found playing small – in settling for a life that is less than the one you are capable of living.” – NELSON MANDELA

Six years of studying Aikido finally paid off when I fell off a cliff in central Turkey.  The 25-foot drop should have sent me home in a Mesopotamian urn, but I ended up reflexively rolling out of it thanks to those years of practice like a third-year Shodan.  I screamed like a Caspian Tiger, but unlike the extinct tiger, I had survived.

There are times when we artists just don’t know what the next step forward will be.  We don’t know what we’re doing.  It’s moments like these that standing on a precipice… at night… blindfolded.  Or, like I’m reaching into a bag of fear, the contents of which can feel very real.

But the truth is, what I’m really doing is making art. There is no precipice, no bag, only that uncomfortable feeling that comes from staring into the unknown.  You know that old saying “you’ll never know unless you try“? Well, art is perfect for that.  Creating art is a perfect way of discovering what we are capable of. Don’t get me wrong, there can still be plenty of difficulty, anguish, and struggle, but you’re not going to fall off a cliff if you end up taking the leap.

 

Delicious Citrus - Gabriel Mark Lipper

Citrus can be acidic, but it’s also delicious.

 

Your leap could be something as simple as starting that new series of paintings you’ve been overthinking.  Leaping could mean organizing photos of your artwork into a couple of files and creating a website to share your work with people who might like to see it.  Leaping could mean hosting an open studio even though you don’t feel ready.  What it doesn’t mean, is waiting for the stars to align until everything is perfect and the world is ready for you.  The world is never ready for something it hasn’t seen before, and that’s where your creativity comes in. You get to be a walking surprise.

Rolling up our sleeves, stepping forward, and reaching into the bag of the unknown, isn’t for the timid.  Realizing that the only thing we’re going to find in that bag is a pile of paint and possibility helps to put the feelings of dread in perspective.  What you might also feel at the very bottom of that bag, is a feeling of vulnerability.  This might feel like fear but you’re actually showing up from a place of power.  When we put ourselves out there in a creative way, we never know how the world will respond. When we don’t, we miss out on the opportunity to know what we are capable of creating.

What have you been putting off because it feels too scary?  How will it feel if you skip out on it all together?

Art is dangerous, are you ready to brandish your brush?

What is one thing that you can start that feels risky?

I would love to hear some of your ideas, let me know in the comments!

 

Craft vs. Intuition

Is the real you coming through in your paintings?

“The aim of art is to represent not the outward appearance of things, but their inward significance” -ARISTOTLE

I’ve seen a lot of art throughout my life. There have been a few pieces that rocked me to my very core. Some paintings feel like they are exploding with energy. All that I can do is stand there and look… slack-jawed… speechless. These paintings are ineffable. Attempting to substitute language as an expression is to diminish the experience of the piece.

There have also been paintings that hardly slowed my step, or made me blink. Historical road signs, dried paint on a board when viewed without the context of a museum’s stamp of approval. Given some context, I can appreciate the innovation, but just being a bit different is not enough to inspire awe.
Why such polarized reactions??

 

8paint Inspiration Fridays Clifford Wilton

Clifford Wilton and I shared a studio for 10 years. His work and influence profoundly affected the way I paint today.

What is it that inspires us to fall in love with a painting?

Connecting our craft with our intuition brings emotion to our work and creates a tangible shift in what we (and others) see. There is so much more to a painting than replicating what is in front of us, but in order to move beyond the surface, we need first to make ourselves present. It’s then that we can begin to communicate the intensity and richness of our painting.

When we are present, our work has clarity and intention, our brushstrokes are purposeful, our colors can stay clean and unmuddied, and the composition remains dynamic and exciting from the beginning of the painting to the end. Focusing on what lights us up allows us to throw out some of the tired tropes and assumptions around what makes something beautiful. Does that heavy black line feel right? Leave it! There is beauty in everything. What are we trying to express with this painting? How can we best convey that feeling?

I have seen a radical shift in the direction of my art over the last decade. The merging of abstraction with representationalism has brought a fresh emotion and spontaneity to my work that often used to elude me. Responding not only to the subject but to the uniqueness of my abstracted surface has transformed my process. There is energy in this trinity, (the painter, the subject, and the abstracted surface) that is palpable and inspiring.

Have you painted something with the intention of expressing how it feels to you? How different was this experience from painting something in order to “get it right”? I challenge you to give it a go this week and see what you discover.

What do you do to bring emotion into your art? Is your energy coming through in your paintings?

I would love to hear some of your ideas, let me know in the comments!

Finding Your Creative Collective

Real creativity doesn’t exist in an echo chamber.  Growth occurs when we challenge what we know.

“Art is too important not to share” – ROMERO BRITTO

A painter alone in a drafty studio wearing a chic but moderately disheveled smock, brush in hand, another between the teeth. With an unshakable focus on the subject, the artist absently wipes paint on the now, less chic smock.

A great image… and one I’d quite like to paint but it is not, for the most part, the reality of my day-to-day. There are times I am this very painter, sans the chic bit… but this image leaves out the critical cast of characters that I have had the good fortune to surround myself with throughout most of my life as an artist.

Seven Figures 24x48 oil on linen Gabriel Mark Lipper 2006

Seven Figures | 24×48 | oil on linen | Gabriel Mark Lipper | 2006

I have shared studio space with other artists for most of my career. Not only does it make a larger space more affordable, but the fusion of ideas and energy also acts as a catalyst for our all of our artistic growth. There was some time early on when I didn’t share a studio. I lived in a studio. My futon was a bed by night and the modeling stand by day.  I saved on rent, but it was pretty toxic and my cat Vincent kept getting into the oil paints.  (I got my deposit back, but I had to replace the carpet.)

In a collective environment, we’re constantly learning from one another. Sometimes the learning comes directly through the sharing of techniques, tools, and discussions. But it can also be as simple as quietly observing another artist’s process, or finished work. Having other artists working in the studio can also reinforce our own commitment to show up on the daily. Immersing ourselves in a strong community of artists is one of the most powerful tools we can bring to our craft. It’s probably more valuable than our paintbrushes!

Sharing studio space isn’t always possible, or even the best option.  The last several years have opened my eyes to the incredibly powerful opportunity we have to be part of an amazing community of artists online.  Being able to connect with other artists, share in their struggles and triumphs, and to be able to witness the evolution of so many artists’ work, has transformed the way I paint and move in the art world.  I will continue to encourage every artist to find a group of artists whose art resonates with them.  We needn’t be stuck in a rut, or continue to paint in the same way year after year.  Our art comes alive when we share it with other artists.

Who are the people in your life that understand and support you in your pursuits? Are you nurturing these connections? Take some steps toward finding new peers to connect with.  Joining art groups, or taking some classes will bring new energy and motivation to your art.

How do you keep your art out of the ruts?? Who inspires you to show up?

Leave your ideas in the comments, this is your community too!