November 29, 2016 – Trusting yourself

This is “Eve” a painting I did earlier this year – for the simple reason that I loved the image – in all its pinkness and light. And I painted it despite the fact that this kind of art is so not in style these days!

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A few times a year, I offer a hands-on demonstration at Riley Street, our local art store. This past Saturday was one of them. I gave a “tour” around my palette – the paints and pigments I use, which are my absolute favorites and why. One of the attendees asked me a question, that was somewhat complicated, about artists she’d heard of using specific color combinations, such as a cool yellow with a cool blue or a warm blue with a warm red. She wanted to know how I combine colors and what rules I follow. My head was sort of swimming with the details of her question; I find it really convoluted, to combine the process of making art with the idea of following “rules” like this.

My answer came in two parts. The first has to do with using the terms “cool” and “warm.” I find it can be useful to use these words, when describing groups of colors. Warm colors are well understood, as those we associate with warm things, such as fire: yellow, orange and red. In the same way, we call cool colors: green, blue and purple. But when it comes to using “warm” and “cool” to describe individual colors, the meaning can be really ambiguous. What the heck is a warm blue? I think the custom is that a warm blue is a violet-leaning blue. But to me a green-blue feels warmer. Using warm and cool in this way, is not intuitive. So, instead I always refer to them according to the color they lean towards – a greenish yellow, an orange-yellow, a more violet-red, etc.

Then there was the second half of my answer, which to me, is the more important part. As I combine colors on my paintings, I choose the colors that appeal to me, that are inspired by my reference image and that, when I put them together on my painting, please me. My desired result doesn’t always happen on my first attempt – it often doesn’t – but, it’s what I’m striving for. Even when I first began painting years ago, I knew what I liked and didn’t like.

I phrased this response to her question from my own perspective – when I combine colors on my paintings… And today, I’m saying this to you – to offer permission to you in your life and painting. Mix whatever colors you want! Whatever is pleasing to you. Everything about our expression is unique to us, to our own particular and individual view and filter. The colors we choose to mix together, are part of our expression – they are part of our visual voice.

I really appreciate the movie reviews in the San Francisco Chronicle, written by the senior film critic, Mick Lasalle. His reviews reveal a perceptiveness, that amazes me time and again. I always read his Q&A column, in the Sunday pink section. This week he was asked a question, about how he rates films with multiple directors, such as Paris je t’aime. I found his response helpful in what I’m writing about here.

Rather than use some kind of scoring system, he evaluates these films as he does any other. He says, “It’s just intuitive, because it has to be intuitive. In the end, there cannot be a system for reviewing movies, because art doesn’t yield to systems.” He’s right, art is intuitive. Our response to it is intuitive and making it has to be intuitive.

As we learn, it can be helpful or even simply interesting to learn “rules”, such as putting colors that are opposite each other on the color wheel to create visual excitement, or putting colors together that are adjacent to create harmony. But what’s more important to forming our own visual voice, is that we observe these effects ourselves. You can be told that putting orange next to blue makes for contrast, or… and… you can just paint orange next to blue, and see how your color perception interprets these two together. My sense is that we need both: to learn to the skills of our craft enough, so that we aren’t always focused on the how of making art. And, we need to trust ourselves, give ourselves the permission to follow our intuition, our inklings, our inspirations and allow our preferences.

There is no formal curriculum in our weekly groups. All the teaching that I do, is drawn out of me, rather than my pushing anything on to those who come paint with me. I do all I can to foster the individual intuitive senses, of the artists I’m working with. You are in the driver seat with your own art and the direction it’s headed in. I can’t get inside your head to see your vision. My job is to help you with the obstacles in getting it there, based on what you can describe to me.

The word-nerd in me looked up the origin of the words “intuitive” and “intuition.” Their Latin roots mean to “look at or watch over”, but an early meaning was theological: “insight, direct or immediate cognition, spiritual perception.” Our intuition is a form of spiritual knowing – and it comes from simply observing. My friend, Joanne LeBlanc, uses the expression: “I know it in my knower.” I think this is what she’s talking about. Sometimes we do just know things. And this intuitive knowing, is where our art comes from.

This comes down to the idea of trusting ourselves – trusting what we like and don’t like, trusting our intuitive sense, even trusting the way we paint. I’ve seen enough art emerging, to realize I could write a Dr. Seuss book about artists – there are fast ones and slow ones, there are neat ones and messy ones, there are bold ones and soft ones, there are those who love detail and those made crazy by it. Part of the journey as artist, is to embrace the way our art comes through us.

I do know of self-doubt too. I made a big trip to New York in 2009, to show my work at a big art trade show, it was a big swing out and costly in several ways. I had my light and color-filled paintings on display, across from an artist from Paris, whose walls were filled with these dark and spare images of one lone jug on a table or a city street, with just a bit of light coming through the buildings. Her art felt lonely and desolate to me. After four days of the show, she had just about sold out and I’d sold just one piece at the last minute. I was left feeling like my art was trivial – not as “important” in some way. I had to remind myself that this was just not my audience.

I’m here to say, that the desire you and I have to make art is sacred – and the art that our intuition sends through us, is our souls on deck. If there’s anything that is needed in this world these days, it is expression that reveals that which is genuine and real. I promise never to paint anything else, regardless of what’s in fashion, or follow any rules for their own sake. And I won’t let you either. We’re here to paint our love.

With my love,

Cara