So many dots. So many dots that at one point they drove me crazy!
And that crazy had me challenge the all black and white strike I'd been on for long and enter the world of colour!
I was going to visit my sister. This was perhaps 10 years ago, when she was living in London. I was excited to see her, and excited to be on a plane, going somewhere. Since I have family in England, I had been to London before, but it had been more than ten years since the last time. As I landed I started seeing everything in a different way. The airport with the landing strips, so grey and boring appeared to me like some sort of pattern. The yellow and white stripes bending, the rows of glass windows, the rectangles of concrete, the metal boxes with blue and white lights. Like pictures from a glossy design magazine, trying to enhance the grey glory of industrial grounds and creating fashion. I pictured dresses made out of these patterns – airport fashion. Had I been a clothes designer, something cool might have emerged from that. But I’m not. I can’t sow a straight line even with the best ever intentions. I had my eyes opened for another way of looking at things though. And an awakened interest for patterns. I don't often see beautiful or interesting patterns in the city or everyday things so much, but I like the thought that if we look close enough at things, there will be a beautiful pattern at the structur level. Two obvious examples are to look in a microscope at snowflakes or at the structure of water affected by sound: the most enchanting shapes emerge. For quite a while I have wanted to incorporate patterns and shapes into my art, but haven't quite figured out how. When I started drawing, I added shapes made of small dots. Like shadows or clouds. And then I experimented with larger and smaller dots. So many dots. So many dots that at one point they drove me crazy! And that crazy had me challenge the all black and white strike I'd been on for long and enter the world of colour! And I love it! I wont abandon the black and white illustrations. I love their straight forward ways. And I love making them. But I will never again think colour is "not my thing", because it totally also is!
0 Comments
Again. Finding focus. Breathing. Moving. Listening closely to the music with ears and body. Pouring out colours. Picking up brushes, etsing tools, dipping my fingers. Stepping in. Stepping in. Spreading out whatever comes from inside. Stepping back, observing. Diving in, continuing. Calm spreading inside me as chaos spreads in front of me. Taking a break. Dancing. Breathing. Yoga.
Looking. Looking. Looking for a clue to a pattern, a shape. Trying to make some sense of the flurry of colours and marks. Trying to find something that may be of meaning. Taking a leap. Braving a decision. Shaping, moulding, covering up, controlling. Until I feel content. Then stepping back again to see. Smile spreading on my face, realizing. If you try to control your chaos – what do you end up with? Volcanoes! I have always loved tracing my hand. Since I was a child. I love the sensation of the pen moving along the sides of my palm and fingers, slightly tickling. And looking at the beautiful shape that is somehow me, turned into a work of art. The first time was in daycare and I remember feeling proud and happy that such a pretty shape had been made from a part of my body. Maybe that is why I also love the marks from outlined hands in the Pech-Merle Caves. Somebody put their hand against the wall of the cave and blew colour onto it 25.000 years ago and perhaps took pride in looking at it. Perhaps felt happy sensing the paint spray over the skin of the back of the hand. I like picturing the face of that stone age woman, smiling, wiping the paint off and thinking about how others will look at her mark and wonder who she is. It is a statement – I was here, I can create something, I want to be remembered. It is a link between that woman and me who looks at it so many years later and feels a connection somehow. It looks like she waves hello, to me, 25.000 years later. And I feel the urge to respond. Maybe because I am thinking about the hand as an identity mark and a way to connect with the world, I have the urge to fill it with things that I like and that intrigue me.
The ocean makes me feel like I ought to be inspired. But I am not. I become still. Empty out inside. Maybe because it is, in itself, so infinately beautiful, and the sound it makes so perfect. All I can do is watch and watch and watch. This origin of all life. Untouchable and yet so vulnerable. It flows through all of us. 70 % of us is water. 70 % of me is in direct kinship with this ocean in front of me. We are family. I long to immerse myself in it. Let it envelop my naked body. Swimming towards the horizon, if only for a few strokes, evokes in me a feeling of adventure and strength. A strand of wilderness still in me. A brief inner uproar against my domestication. (I ended up being a bit inspired after all, at the thought of swimming:) I wanted to capture how the waters of the ocean is everchanging, and the feeling of flow and silk against the body. ( I noticed when done that also, it looks like I'm farting :).)
Funny thing: When I start practicing one of the arts; singing, theatre, writing, and now drawing, I start to avoid that kind of art. When I went to acting school I couldn’t stand going to the theatre, and I watched fewer movies than during any other period of my life. Same with writing – I love books, have always been an avid reader, I start to write, and don’t pick up a book in months. Only exception has been singing, maybe because I always felt sure I was good enough, I don’t know. Anyhow, I decided this whole avoidance thing was ridiculous, went to the library and borrowed as many books about art as I could carry. Didn’t look to closely on what books I pulled out of the shelves, just went with what called to me. And I am really glad I did. I found a book by Flora Bowley about painting intuitively and was instantly struck with inspiration. I used to play around a little with paint in my twenties, but never did much with it. I felt the demands for technique got in my way (since I didn’t have any). But now I was presented to a way of painting much freer and I got straight to it and made the first painting I’ve done in maybe 10 years (two mixed media projects excluded, I used painting in them). It is the first time ever I have tried to paint in several layers and I had so much fun, using different kinds of brushes, my hands, a spray bottle, a rag… I didn’t do many layers, just four, but here they are: I started out by standing on the board and making a circle to represent my foot chakra, and filled it with warmth since I needed grounding. And then of course I had to put my own feet there - since the foot chakra is also about feeling like you have a place in this world and it is safe to occupy that space. Playing with the bottle was fun, but I ended up almost ruining the painting :). But that gave me the opportunity to try out the rag, and I like the surface that the thinly smeared out white gave. I am definately going to try this out again! It felt so playful, intuitive and grounding. Which was exactly what the doctor ordered.
(The book is called Brave Intuitive Painting). Until next time, all my love to you! Even though I have oftentimes been at war with my body, I have always had a notion that my body could also be the gate to new inner explorations. Therefore, when I heard that Laura Hollik was holding a day event where anybody could join and participate in what she calls bodymapping, I instantly knew it was for me. I didn’t have the time to join in that particular day, since my daughter fell of a chair and hit one of her teeth, which had me spending the afternoon at the dentist’s office. Random fact: I did the same thing when I was a toddler. Anyway, two days ago I found myself waking up with a whole day to myself stretching out before me. I took the kids to daycare, finished my most important dobedo’s for the day, set everything else aside, and dove in. From the moment I lay the canvas out on the floor I was sucked into the process. So much so that I couldn’t follow through the way I was “supposed to”. I just let go and leaned into the flow. Looking at what I did, I felt I like my body. I was happy that I have the body I have, and felt a connection with it I rarely do. I felt rooted. If you are curious about who Laura Hollik is; check out her homepage www.soulartstudio.com. (I am not an affiliate, I just appreciated this day and felt like sharing and giving the credit to where it is due.)
I have always loved sketchbooks. Looking into someone's sketchbook, is like sharing something of an artist's daily life. Just like peeking into their studio (which I also love).
Lately, I have been working more in my sketchbook than with anything else. Maybe a symptom of my growing need to turn inwards, away from others and the hurriedness of everyday life. Inwards to try and find my core essence again. I just thought I should share a bit of what I have been up to. I opened up shop at Etsy. You can find a couple of prints and original drawings there, and I will eventually expand as I make more drawings. I am also considering venturing in to other creative areas, such as jewellery making. Perhaps. I am also in the midst of writing a book of some sort J. It is more in my area as a psychologist, since it will be a prompt to write/think about yourself and your life inspired by words I have chosen. A bit like angel cards, but no angels. (Just meJ). I hope it will be all done and ready to publish by the end of February. We’ll see. I have noticed things tend to take more time than I would like to. On that note, I have decided to finish of some of the projects I started but never finished. Perhaps that is why I have been so silent here. I have felt that I can’t do anything new until I am done with the old. But of course I can. I can do anything I want, can’t I? Just like you can. Funny how elusive that can be though. I envy those who are clear and consistent. But think I have to come to terms with my scattered nature. One can’t fight nature, can one? From the sketchbook :).
I went to pick up the remaining illustrations and settle the business with the café/gallery today. Now I am filled with both a wee bit of sadness (as always when a project ends) and relief. It is the first larger art project I handle all by myself from beginning til end, and I have made a couple of mistakes and learnt a lot. I did a couple of things right too :).
As I walked home I breathed in the crisp autumn air, watched the yellow and red leaves dancing in the wind and felt elated and free and full of possibility. I love the feeling of having achieved something. And I love, love, love the feeling of starting anew. One door closes. Another opens. So it is finally almost time. Next saturday is opening night (vernissage), and my Beautiful friend Kajsa is going to play the piano and sing. If you happen to be in Stockholm, drop by and say hi! I would love to see you there.
|