when I come to the studio, there's a catch in my throat.

My eyes take in the encaustic palette and colored waxes

The scents of making fill me before I even have a thought

What do I do with an idea that follows me?

I had a picture in my head of figures crammed into a space, and the tensions that could create, the feeling I have when I'm pressed against people in a small space.

I wondered,
what if I create cutout drawings of her?

I decided I could move them around until I found a composition that expressed my idea.

As my thinking changed, my question expanded. 

I wondered...
How could I create the feeling of pressure, of tension?


   

A model showed up and I immediately knew.
my breathing shifted, I felt it.

I need her for my painting.
I love the way she moves.
I love how she contorts her body.
   

I realized enthusiasm for the idea wasn't enough.

When I began putting the image from my head onto paper, I became aware of my shortcomings. 

   I didn't know enough about anatomy.
   I felt unsteady about composition.

   So I took a course in Great Masters drawing.
   Then another.
   And another on composition.

   I explored subtractive painting.
   I studied books and others' drawings
 
I asked

  What's missing?

  What's needed?

  What can I learn from this mess?


   
   
   

It had been a long while since I'd had a studio where I could paint with oils. I was eager to get back to it.

But when it came time to paint my idea
   I froze. 

I remembered that in the past,
I had lacked confidence with composition.
   Now I felt stuck.


Then, opportunity showed up.
   I learned how to compose with a harmonic grid,
   a new tool for my thinking.

  


   
   
   

a compositional flop

other ways to position figures

thinking about how to compose the light

what if I paint around them?

I'm feeling a bit ambivalent about leaving that piece for now

and wondering...


where will it take me next?

I studied the underlying forms of the body and how they move, how they compact, how they interact, how flesh touching flesh creates tension

I studied the underlying forms of the body and how they move,
how they compact,
how they interact,
how flesh touching flesh
creates tension

   jars of inks ready for the press
   a wall easel wide enough for two big paintings
   oil paints and an open jar of turpentine set out on a glass palette
   a corner for making books with a cutting mat, threads, needles, and an awl
   a rolling table for ceramics and of course
   the big table in the center of the studio with stacks and stacks of drawings, papers,            artifacts, and drawing materials.

jars of inks ready for the press
   a wall easel wide enough for two big 
   paintings
oil paints and an open jar of turpentine set
   out on a glass palette
a corner for making books with a cutting
   mat, threads, needles, and an awl
a rolling table for ceramics and of course
the big table in the center of the studio with
   stacks and stacks of drawings, papers, artifacts, and drawing materials.

I tested

I used different media to make freer moves
  I doodled, starting from stick figures
  I modeled for myself with a mirror
   
When a test didn't work, I tried a different approach

No matter what, I keep drawing.
I keep painting.
Every single day.
Different media.
Different approaches. 

Not directly for the painting,
but for my mind
for my hand to remember.

What do I do with an idea that follows me?

I had a picture in my head of figures crammed into a space, and the tensions that could create, the feeling I have when I'm pressed against people in a small space.

When I lived in Milan, I watched an elderly man as he walked along the road. 

It seemed his body had compressed over time.










I thought of how we age. Do we tuck more into ourselves, feel less sure of our moves,
our steps, our rhythms?

When I come to the studio, there's a catch in my throat. 

My eyes take in the encaustic palette
and colored waxes

The scents of making fill me before I even have a thought

I wondered...
what if I create cutout drawings of her?

I decided I could move them around until I found a composition that expressed my idea.

   
   

A model showed up and I immediately knew.
my breathing shifted, I felt it.






I need her for my painting.
I love the way she moves.
I love how she contorts her body.
   

When you stop working on something for awhile,

how do you reconnect with it?


I'm feeling a bit ambivalent about leaving this for now

and wondering...


where will it take me next? 

If my underpainting is bold,
how will it enliven the painting?

When I lived in Milan, I watched an elderly man as he walked along the road. 

It seemed his body had compressed over time.

I thought of how we age. Do we tuck more into ourselves, feel less sure of our moves,
our steps, our rhythms?

making cutouts worked 
but it's time consuming. 

no edges –just living, making

no edges
–just living,
making.

discovering the harmonic grid became a turning point in my work, an AHA for understanding composition.

What does tension or pressure
feel like in my body?

noticing the relationship between land and body

I sensed that I was holding back.

I decided to step away from my tendency toward creating tender, gentle works.

The concept of the painting called for it.


   
   
   

arrival

the insistence

I started seeing the body not as just the body
but as landscape, an intertwining layering of forms, and played with exaggerating them to create a sense of depth.
   




   
   
   

I enter the studio. Something is already stirring.

an image, feeling, problem begins to insist on being made

what I imagine exceeds what I know how to do

the search

the trying

the opening

A person, technique, discovery, or accident gives me a way forward.

the question

The work starts asking something different of me.

the seeing

Composition, rhythm, body, space, relationship—
the things I discover through making this work.

for now

I pause. I don't have the whole answer.

I draw, observe, find models, study, try to understand what I'm seeing.

I tested

I used different media to make freer moves
  I doodled, starting from stick figures
  I modeled for myself with a mirror
   
When a test didn't work, I tried a different approach

I studied her moves, figuring out her underlying anatomy, and filled sketchbooks with drawings of her.

I still need to consider all the elements that make a painting strong

I tried out multiple versions using Canva as a digital tool.

I kept coming back to exaggeration
in color, in use of line, 
in how the body moves.


   
   
   

the risk

arrival

I enter the studio.
Something is already stirring..

the insistence

the trying

an image, feeling, problem begins to insist on being made

what I imagine exceeds what I know how to do

I pause.
I don't have the whole answer.

I draw, observe, find models, study,
try to understand what I'm seeing.

A person, technique, discovery, or accident gives me a way forward.

The work starts asking something different of me.

I sensed that I was holding back.

I decided to step away from my tendency toward creating tender, gentle works.

The concept of the painting called for it.

Composition, rhythm, body, space, relationship—
the things I discover through making this work.

As my thinking changed, my question expanded. 

I wondered...
How could I create the feeling of pressure, of tension?

I studied her moves,
figuring out her
underlying anatomy,
and filled sketchbooks
with drawings of her.

the opening

I realized enthusiasm for the idea wasn't enough.








When I began putting the image from my head onto paper, I became aware of my shortcomings. 

   I didn't know enough about anatomy.
   I felt unsteady about composition.

   So I took a course in Great Masters 
     drawing.
   Then another.
   And another on composition.

   I explored subtractive painting.
   I studied books and others' drawings
 





I asked

  What's missing?

  What's needed?

  What can I learn from this mess?


   
   
   

the question

the seeing

the search

the risk

for now...

I kept coming back to exaggeration
in color,
in use of line, 
in how the body moves.

I tried out multiple versions using Canva as a digital tool.

I still need to consider all the elements that make a strong painting 

discovering the harmonic grid became a turning point in my work, an AHA for understanding composition.

It had been a long while since I'd had a studio where I could paint with oils.
I was eager to get back to it.

But when it came time to paint my idea
   I froze. 

I remembered that in the past,
I had lacked confidence with composition.
   Now I felt stuck.


Then, opportunity showed up.
   I learned how to compose with
   a harmonic grid,
   a new tool for my thinking.

  


   
   
   

making cutouts
worked but it's time
consuming.