Ink on paper

Needing to get some things off my mind, I tore down some sketchbook paper and started drawing whatever came out. Together they look like hieroglyphics but as I drew them they were just forms and compositions that had been swimming around.

I remember the Art of the Maya class I took in graduate school having a big effect on me and I still have a few of the books lying around. After I hung these, I looked through one of them again. I couldn’t place any specific form but some of them definitely had an overall quality that showed a close relationship.

I’ve been thinking a lot about over-thinking my work (no pun intended). The self-impossed requirement to understand what will come after the very thing I have yet to make has been paralyzing.

I don’t have a big drive to explain my work but yet it seems obligatory in the current environment. I love a great story but when it involves the purported meaning behind an art object or experience, I usually tune it out as it’s often heavy-handed and trite. A contrived story can really kill a good piece and a bad piece is rarely helped by a great story. But yet, they persist and it sells.

Maybe it gives people something to hang onto while they let themselves absorb the work. I know I’ve been guilty of this in relationships. It takes time to get to the heart of something and in the meantime I’ll create a story that gives me some foundation while I work out what’s real and meaningful from what’s superfluous and distracting.

No answers are forthcoming here, but the stream-of-consciousness drawings above help me cut through to something that is actually helpful.

I started covering the handle in salt a while ago. I finally decided it was done and hung it above my studio door. Hopefully it’ll give some good luck.

Quick sketches of street tar contours with ink and colored pencil on velum.

Another street tar contour. Acrylic and gouache on paper.

Patterns based on traffic signal embeds. The actual patterns are great but my sketches are a long way off. Acrylic and oil on paper.

Just a quick post to keep things alive around here. I’ve been getting to the studio a lot more lately. Things have been going smoothly. Not much else to say.

Still sketching. Trying to add more color. No idea will this is leading, if anywhere. I’ve realized that I don’t need to know, as long as I just keep making whatever it is I want to see. This way of thinking has helped me to relax and experiment more.

I’ve found that I like using very wet media. This line was made with a small rubber ear syringe with a inner tube needle inserted in the tip. I’ve used these a lot in the past, especially while making the wine and coffee drawings.

I made new tables! I love these suckers. So much space to spread things out. At some point I’ll write a how-to on making one. Pretty simple design and solid as a rock.

Thinking about the color I choose to photograph, I shot this on my way out of the studio the other night. The crack’s line quality also drew me in.

The building used to be an old Army Navy store.

Below are images of a water tower in Griffith Park. The constant covering of graffiti shows some interesting layers and color combinations.

(use j/k navigate through the images)

The surface of one of my studio tables

While trying to get some organization and cleanliness to the studio I noticed an interesting intersection of a few attempted drawings. Often, the liquid I pour looks to escape it’s drawing surface (usually paper) and blaze a slow and disheartening trail across my table. The above image is evidence that this can sometimes be a good thing.

In most cases I do a single pour and leave it at that, but after multiple floods, I see the result has a more layered, intricate and detailed composition. I need to be more controlled about where and when I pour so as to be open to adding more, if needed.

As I write this I’m wondering what my fascination is with the effects of poured liquid on paper. I’m going to think on that more.

Anyway, today I’m buying wood for 2 new studio tables. The current tables, the first, made over 10 years ago from recycled wood and sitting atop wheels from a mainframe computer (which I found in a dumpster) and the other, a door on plastic saw horses, have reached their limit. I’m pretty excited as I’m building out of necessity instead of habit.

In the past I would totally outfit my studio before any work was made, spending a lot of time getting it just right and not making any work until it was. Since moving to Los Angeles, and having such a hard time finding affordable space, all I simply wanted to do was make work. That changed this week when the current setup started to get in the way. That’s what I’m doing today. I’ll post some images soon.

Ink on canvas

Ink on canvas (detail)

Ink, acrylic and graphite on paper (in-progress)

The canvas is the result of the poured experiment I posted about earlier. It came out with some really interesting qualities. Overall it has been the most successful. I muddied the ink too much though. After I added the ink I started to blow it around in the puddle thinking it might not spread it out enough on its own. As a result, the red mixed too much with the black. Oh well. Still good results, if a bit bloody (maybe that’s a good thing…).

My studio neighbor came in and said “Ah! Meaty.” After looking at it for the past few days, I would agree. The pinning of canvas gives a strung-up-hide look as well.

The drawing is a bit goofy. It’s weird how I find myself gravitating towards these forms. They have commonalities with some of the things I’m looking to get across but are way off the mark. I blame graffiti-laden Los Angeles. It looks as if I sat down and copied it off the side of the highway somewhere. I see this stuff so much that it sometimes seeps in without notice.

Honestly, I feel somewhat insecure posting the state the drawing so far. It communicates a very immature idea of what I’m trying to work towards.

More trial and error.

Not much to say except I had just finished looking through a Guston book…

Starting a smaller sketch

Covering up a form (looks like urine)

Using a line of water and adding ink (that orange and black is waay too Halloween-like)

Things are moving along…

Ink on paper. These are moving in a good direction

Untitled and in-progress.

Plasticine moat filled with plaster.

The wax and twine moat busted. The wax pulled up from the surface for some reason. Maybe the cold. My studio has no heat and wax must not like 40° weather.

I’ve made another attempt. This time with plasticine. Never worked with it before so we’ll see. I’m also trying out plaster shapes on clayboard. I want to see what I can do with a simple raised surface.

While I feel like I’m going in a lot of different directions, I’m most likely not, but what I’m looking for is attachment. Attachment to a shape, color, mark, relationship. I’m trying to keep the side of me that over-thinks everything at bay so I can truly experiment.

It’s a moat, with twine and candle wax and filled with water, acrylic and ink.

Sticks de Kebab.

Canvas over the sticks.

I have this great papasan chair that I originally got for E to hang out in. I now have it in the middle of the studio and it serves as the nap/look-at-the-wall-and-consider-my-formal-concerns chair.

For some reason the first thing I do when I get to the studio is take a nap. After that, I make a pot of coffee and things get movin’. Today went well.