a little bit about painting

As a young painter I find I am constantly pushed and challenged as to why I paint. I am always being asked what my work is like, why I do it, why oil on canvas, why so big or small, why, why, why. Everyday my actions are questioned by myself and others.

I don't mind it really. Often, there are days where some questioners are more interesting than others and the questions bring an good debate into my mind.

Recently, a friend asked, "why oil paint? What makes it so great?" Well, since I'm sick in bed and taking an evening off from the studio to recover, here's my answer:

Over the years, oil paint has been the one thing on which I can depend. Many artists at the end of many hard days turn to their palettes for answers. It is a visual math, where the pieces of the formula are laid out in shiny, little dollops, surrounded by a gray patina only achieved after years of mixing & experimentation. Each evening, the artist must create the algorithm that will put these dollops to good use. Usually the problem the artist is trying to solve lies within his/her own head. As frustrating as this may seem, it is oil paint that can save the artist from being lost within the problem. As the brushes jab and push the dollops around, the formula changes and evolves over the course of a demanding session. The velvety texture flows down the brush handle and into the artist's hand, reassuring them that the solution to the problem is close, and approaches quickly.

Each gesture is recorded on the canvas surface, every movement noted in time. The collection of gestures - the variables of mark and coefficients of color - create the solution. If the solution is satisfactory, that challenge has been conquered, and the artist can rest for at least one night, until another challenge arises in his/her head. However, if the solution is not satisfactory, the problem remains, and despite the towering effort put forth onto that shallow drum, the image on the canvas is simply in progress; in the midst of progressing to something better.

I suppose what makes oil paint so wonderful is how it is inherent in its nature to, in even the most subtle of ways, record the history of the above-mentioned labor. Hundreds of years from now, an oil painting is a faithful and honest record of the artist's toil over the problem with which he/she was faced for all those lonely and tiresome nights. What other media, after hundreds of years, manages to not only maintain its integrity as it was meant to by its creator, but also maintain its intent for whom it was created?

One can argue that the context of art history will change said intent, but for an oil painter, that does not matter. What matters is that each night, he/she knows that not only will the paint listen to the decisions the artist makes, but will share them with the world for centuries to come. So often the decisions one makes go into the abyss of time unnoticed. For artists, the decision to choose oil paint is the most important decision of all. For once it is chosen, an artist has chosen to become a part of art history and a shaper of it.

Now entering...the studio!

Hi again!

Okay, I'm finally back to work. It has been a rough road getting to start painting again. Since I had to ship my materials here pre-arrival, I had to stop painting about a week before the residency.

In addition, the weeks of painting prior were not that great. The last few weeks and months, have been strange as far as my painting mood goes. I am a new person, but not a new painter. To evolve as a new artist, the art must change first. Work and personality however do not move in the same streams. They are rivers of energy that simply do not follow the same rules of gravity or current. Obstacles are in different places and diversions at different points.

In the differences, however, lies the solution. The balance between these worlds is where good work lies. I may not be a new painter just yet, but I am evolving into one, as I balance my worlds out, and learn about who I am as this new person, this adult I've become.

Anyway, my studio is very large, too big to fill in just a month, but that's fine. Everyone is very active here and usually there is a good dozen or so other residents floating around whenever I arrive or depart. Since the studios close at midnight, it sort of forces everyone to be bit more efficient with their energy and time. The distraction that is New York makes this very difficult, even for someone like myself. I've never considered focus an issue, but I swear being here means I need to adjust my lens every few seconds just to focus of the immediate task in front of me.

That's the real life of a painter, however. That's the reality of living and painting. I enjoy it very much but I can feel how exhausting it is, and I am not getting used to it as quickly as I would like. I find myself very tired even by noon or 1pm. I want to absorb everything and express everything, but I am only one person and cannot do everything all at once.

Whatev, as my friends and I say. I'm here to paint and have fun. I love New York very much and I believe in it and everything it has to offer me. My painting has grown very much already, and I see new ideas and possibilities on my horizon, which is a feeling I have not had in a good while.