james-luscombe.com

Aslan: in progress

 

belly dancer (unfinished)

self portrait - a point of impasse

I have reached a point of impasse with the self portrait that I have been working on. I can't decide where I want to go from here. Do I go forward with my original idea? Do I venture down another path, from the numerous new ideas that have wandered through my subconscious in recent days? Where is this piece trying to go? I keep grappling with these questions, again and again. Each night I sit in the studio and look at the canvas, hoping that the answer will reveal itself. Instead, what I am finding is more questions. I find the whole thing both, infuriating and exhilarating. I want to believe that the piece is trying to get me to look harder at myself, so that I might recognize some greater truth that I have missed. However, I suspect that truth is probably more a matter of my own indecisive thought process than anything else. Whatever the case, I am going to let this all sit for a awhile, until something compels me in one direction or another.

what a difference a day makes...

... twenty-four little hours...

looking inward again, (a story of distraction, or perhaps contemplation)

The other day I decided to take a break from working on the "rabbit" painting, for several reasons. The first being that I had reached a bit of a roadblock with regard to the "sky" plane. Basically, I love what is happening with the ground plane, but am less than thrilled with the upper half of the piece. As such, I have shelved it for the time being in favor of working on something else. My first instinct was to pull "be still" off the shelf and go back to work on it. That thought last all of ten minutes before I put it back on the shelf, right beside "rabbit".

I think that part of this change of direction is due to my desire to start hacking away at a spiffy new stretched canvas that the Mrs. gave me as an anniversary gift. For over a week, that beauty sat in the corner of the studio, calling to me, taunting me. Finally, I had to throw it up on the easel and have my wicked way with it!

What I found myself doing as a result, was beginning work on another self portrait. (Go figure!?) Anyway, out came the conte and away I went. So far, I am very pleased with where the drawing is going. As is customary, it doesn't necessarily look a whole lot like me, but it does embody the spirit of my inner angst, which is plenty good enough for me!

What I am finding particularly interesting about working on this new self portrait is the dialog, or better yet, the debate that I am having with myself about what to do when I get to the point of actually applying paint to it. Before I ever laid down the first stroke, I knew exactly what I wanted to do when I got around to the painting portion of the piece. However, the further I go with the drawing, the less certain I become about how to paint this piece. Several ideas have surfaced and been socked away in the back of my mind, each having it's own distinct appeal, but none have quite arrived at the point of being the clear winner.

I guess I'll just have to trust the piece to guide me in the direction that it needs to go, when we get to that point. Until then, "be still" and "rabbit" will rest peacefully on the shelf awaiting their chance to lead me down a path, as yet undiscovered. And this new self portrait will continue to hold my hand and mind until such time as it finds completion, or it's place on the shelf!

self-portrait

Last night I set my painting, "Emma Jean", aside for the immediate future. I am undecided as to whether or not the piece is complete and so have decided to take a break and let time pass between the last layer and the next, should there be another.

Subsequently, I began working on a self-portrait. I am using vine charcoal on an 18" x 24" stretched canvas. I have not worked on an actual canvas in many, many years. It is a very interesting experience this time around. In part due to the vine charcoal, another medium I have not done anything with in longer than I can remember. (Ahhh, returning to the basics... ).

What I am finding as I work on this piece, trying to express something about myself, from the perspective of my memory of what I look like, is that it is much harder to recognize myself than it should be. Each stroke defines it's place on the canvas and gives weight to the face it is part of, but it never seems to land in exactly the right place. My ear is too close and too low. My eyes too low, to the right. Shadow on the neck is not consistent with the light source on my head and face. And on and on...

Nevertheless, I keep working at it. Lifting away and adding to, the indication of light and shadow on a face that doesn't really exist. Looking into charcoal, dust and my self, I slowly begin to recognize my own face in it's component parts, despite their poor juxtapositions. And so art would seem to imitate life...

Self Portrait, portrait