Planning and Spontaneity

In the midst of all this thought and angst about painting and the making of what I show on this blog, I continue to work on my sculpture. A piece "in progress" involves a variation of the seven deadly sins-a bunch of carved heads showing different expressions...I started out thinking that I'd do just seven heads- this has now become eleven or twelve heads and counting. The reason for this overage is that I don't direct the carving very well-I just "let my fingers do the walking". Three of those heads not only show little of any emotion, but are also remarkably alike. I also wanted more of a serious and dark aspect in the piece, but many of these heads look downright goofy. Not my intention at all- so I'll keep carving.

You probably would say that I need to plan better. The truth of the matter is that as a matter of course, I plan little in my work . I start many artworks with a rudimentary sketch-just a germ of an idea with very simple visualization. This coupled with the fact that I'm not the best draftsman, you get a scribble that means something only to me (very similar to my handwriting). It would be great to be understood, but I gave that up years ago as a waste of time.

Anyhow, after I start a piece, whether I use a sketch or not, the sculpture develops as if it had a mind of its own. Not only am I open to diversion and digression, I welcome it.

I like doing "theme" shows because they provide an opportunity to work differently in terms of direction and discipline. In this situation, fairly solid preconception of the work is necessary to stay on task-diversions become directions to be pursued at a later time. I wouldn't like doing this constantly, but having strictures like this can be a refreshing challenge.

Working with paint has very different aspects for me. I don't "wander" at all-not that I plan the work differently with painting (at least, so far). There is a different sense of time and timing with paint. The whole of what I am working on can change in minutes-usually to transmogrify and turn to waste product. I do not work on several paintings at once, although I do have works in progress-but this is in a very different sense than with my 3D work. The paintings in progress carry a tentativeness not present in my sculpture. My sculptural work always seems to be able to be turned from bad into....something-it's rare that I throw out work-usually I dissect bad starts somewhat and then have a new go at it. Not true with my painting (I have heard of painters who cut out the good parts of paintings and paste them onto other canvases, either as components or as new beginnings). Maybe this will get easier as I go along, but the art of salvage seems a little too foreign to me right now. What would also help is having more of a crystalized objective-not knowing where you are headed certainly reduces (if not eliminates) the shortcuts and tricks available. But this contradicts where I'm trying to head with the work. Again, I'm sure time and experience will help my efforts here, but right now there are so many questions and uncertainties.

Which leads me to another important idea: if process is so important in the making of art, then the foray I've made with painting has lead to a whole new spectrum. Final results withstanding, the cerebral and emotional workout coming out of the process is new scenery to an old landscape. Even physically, the actions alone are so different than what I'm used to (true, those actions are much more sedentary). Whatever artwork that comes from this experiment will share the spotlight with what is not visible...s'pose I could say that the growth is its own reward.

These two guys are called "The Wren and The Sparrow"(and that's a working title: meaning that it can change). I'll have to get the dimensions later-but I will say that each of the separate heads is under 24" in any dimension. They are collage and acrylic on wood and the pair sells for $500.