Bodies of work

Following on the déjà vu mentioned in the Paper Dolls post,  I came across a dream journal entry from January 2005 which was used in my Immersion painting series.


Here are a few of the little paintings made to illustrate the dream. 
 






















 ...and an excerpt from the entry:


 'In my dream last night I spontaneously jumped into the deep water, the sun was out and I felt excited. Suddenly, the sky darkened with clouds and I was quickly consumed by roaring waves.  I was lost at sea. I screamed for him to help me, but my voice was only a whisper amidst the roar of the sky and waves.  I feel helpless and need salvation…'

 '...What’s so romantic about loneliness and melancholy? Slip Sliding Away plays in the background as my baby cries in her crib. I haven’t left the house since Thursday. 
The isolation is taking over, surrounding me like the Mediterranean. Not the turquoise one in postcards, but the deep, swallowing one of my dream.' 

 

While sorting through my files, I also stumbled upon these two packets of bodies:

 
















On the left is a pile of doll limbs I painstakingly created but never made use of in 1994.

On the right is a stack of yoga postures created for the work I was making around 2000.

Old dog, new tricks. Back to the drawing board...

Out of Body Experience Drawings....continued

Following on the previous post, I share a few more compositions:








Left: Study for Fright or Flight 



(These drawings are light and not easy to photograph, thanks for clicking on the image to get a better look.)

Left: Study for The Carrier

Out of Body Experience Drawings

Out of body experience drawings.

These composition studies explore the twin concept of depersonalization and derealization, a syndrome resulting from the anxiety of trauma where one is detached from their own body, and feel they move through experience in a dream-like state.

Sketch for... Lean on me

 (These drawings are light and not easy to photograph, thanks for clicking on the image to get a better look.) 






Eve Ensler (creator of the Vagina Monologues) has an excellent podcast on the topic, which I found on Maria Popova's Brainpickings.




Sketch for... Along for the ride

 

Paper dolls

Up to my old tricks again...

As I explore compositions in the studio, I realize how easily I gravitate toward collage. The versatile interplay of shapes and textures is a good match for my mood on many days. I love taking disparate or cast-off things and making them into something new.

But, I've also realized lately that I continue to return to making my own paper dolls. I can find many references from older work where I have carefully drawn, cut-out and characterized figures in simple scenes.

Yet, when I embark on a new series, I don't think, 'I'd like to do silhouetted shapes again, like I did back then'. It starts to happen intuitively and ... then I think,  'Oh - I did it again'.

My recent return to cut-out figures is, I suppose, partially about control and the strong impulse to play the mastermind behind this theatre of forms.

 Left: 
Emerse or Drown, Gold leaf and acrylic on wood.
2006, Mallorca Spain.

Right: 
Chain Reaction, 
Detail of unique artist book. papers, gesso. 
1994, Massachusetts USA

Left: 
Curtains, 
Gallery installation, wood, ink on silk. 
1995, Thesis show at Mass College of Art, Boston, USA

Los Bichos: Macropsia Insectum

Macropsia Insectum 

Ink, guache and collage on paper, 2016


This specimen was designed to mimic the sensation of derealization common during and after traumatic experience.  Read more about depersonalization and derealization here.

In Process: High Wired

I've got a lot of irons in the fire at the moment. Here's yet another work in progress.                   

The working title is High Wired...or maybe No Net. Not sure yet.

 

Reflection of Echo

Reflection of Echo

40X40 cm; ink, gold leaf and gesso on wood
Laurie Pearsall  2015

Frame of reference: Love Bomb

I'm excited to get to work on a new piece called 'Love Bomb', now that I have the perfect 'frame'. I found this one in the usual way, cruising the second-hand markets.

Stay tuned to see the development!









Learn more about love bombing.

Echo at the pool

Echo at the pool

40X40 cm; ink and gesso on wood
Laurie Pearsall  2015 

The Parasites / Los Bichos

Hatred and fear blind us. We no longer see each other. We only see the faces of monsters, and that gives us the courage to destroy each other.                          Thich Nhat Hanh 


The parasite series is beginning to come together.  
Above and below: 
Vermin
Gold and silver leaf, ink, gesso and collage on paper. 
  

Homage to Kafka's Metamorphosis

 


After reading a letter from Franz Kafka to his narcissist father here, I remembered the great impact reading his Metamorphosis  had on me when I was 17 years old. I even used it as the theme of an AP Art Studio final project. 





I have just read it again, in English this time. It's amazing how closely the idea of 'capture-bonding' links to the vermin I have been creating recently, see Los Bichos post.  Gregor is treated as the vermin, the 'problem child' of the family, and finally has evolved into the vermin, much to 'his shock and horror at being unrecognizable' (Ian Johnson translation).

Als Gregor Samsa eines Morgens aus unruhigen Träumen erwachte, fand er sich in seinem Bett zu einem ungeheueren Ungeziefer verwandelt”.  

As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect.

I've been toying with vermin/beetle shell effects.

Airplane Mode

I've just returned from a fantastic stay with family and friends in America. It wasn't an art-making trip, but I did find some time on the flight to play with more figurative graphics. Here you can see a few, plus some yummy supplies I acquired while there. Unfortunately, I couldn't convince the security officers to let me fly with several bottles of Looking Glass mirror spray paint. Sniff!

I'm excited to get back into the studio tomorrow to see what magic I can work with these raw materials.

Dream: Chemical Changes

Burning Coal Dream of 20th June 2015:

This was an early a.m. dream. Lately most of my dreams have been colorful, lucid and a blend of references from old and new places and acquaintances, as well as glimpses of upcoming events. This dream was no different in that respect. One particular segment was so visually provocative that even my waking self was impressed and made a mental note to pay close attention as I was dreaming.

I was looking out an upper balcony down at the property to the left of me, it appeared to be a summer rental where a late night barbecue had taken place in the patio-garden out back. The time was just before dawn. By the smell and sight of some glowing red, I detected that there were still some coals burning in the outdoor grill. Then I saw that everything was quickly turning bright orange-red, like coals, including a long dining table close to the house - it was a big rectangle of ember, like some sacrificial slab. Just adjacent to the table, I noticed a man sleeping in a reclining sun chair. I hurried downstairs to warn the family, the place looked like it was about to ignite into flames, and I assumed the rest of the people were inside. 

When I approached I saw that the man was also was molten. I told him he had to get up and get out of there and evacuate the others.  He scoffed at me angrily as though to say, ‘mind your own business’. He got up and went into the house. Then I realized that after I arrived and the burning man had left, the whole scene cooled down and returned to its normal color and temperature. 

That was when the man’s mother appeared to be sitting just where he was, wearing top-to-toe beige and brown. I recognized her, but hadn’t seen her in a long time. I decided to be civil, give her a kiss on each cheek and ask how she was. She responded kindly. To distract from the awkward interlude, I started to show her an antique entertainment center that apparently used to be mine (but was kept in their house).  I was so relieved that it didn’t get destroyed by fire. I opened the tall unit to show her the vinyl record player on top, the drawers and cabinets for a mini-bar below. ‘Isn’t this cool?’ I said. Then I opened a slim drawer hidden in the bottom molding, one I hadn’t noticed before. With excitement I realized it contained the keys to the little cabinets on the top part of the unit. I handed a few keys to her, and together we started to try to fit them into their matching locks. Then I woke up.  

This is not the first dream I’ve had that includes discovering an antique container and trying to put the missing keys and pieces back together. This theme has recurred for at least 15 years in my dream records.

Frame Finds

For some reason, preparing the frames continues to precede creating the completed art works. Alas! Here you see, nestled in my garden, another good find from the Consell, Mallorca flea market today. I can't wait to start playing with it!

Getting into character: Is making art like acting?

It's difficult to stay in the so-called zone of the creative process when I have to do so many other things required for basic survival. I long for the lifestyle of the seeming throngs of creative types throughout history who did nothing but work at their craft. I'm convinced there were people they were ignoring in order to do so.

I have clear notions of a series of art pieces I want to bring to life. I've noticed that the subject matter is most poignantly available to me when I'm in a state of woe. So, when I finally get a chance for some studio time, what to do if I happen to be in a light, carefree mood? Moreover, I often can't work when in depths of despair, I'd rather wallow in self-pity or meditate until I feel better.  How does one retain the sensibilities of sorrow and struggle when you are in a reflective, recovery state? Will newfound optimism color it, and somehow make the results less effective?

I've been thinking that making art can be like acting in that before settling in to work, I need to embody the state of mind of the part of me that was inspired in the first place. I need time alone, often a day or so to get into character. I seek out images and texts that press the trigger. The levitating woman posted here is one that seems to work a lot.

Is it necessary to maintain continuity with one's state of mind in order to work on a certain theme? I suppose if the work is nothing but honest, what emerges is just what is.

Frames of reference

Above is an ink design framed by a flea-market frame 

which I gold-leafed and antiqued. I've been trying this 

ornate look out, inspired by the miniature gilt frames of 

Daguerrotype photographs.

The mottled mirror-glass of this early portrait technology

(sample upper right) is also fueling my recent experiments.

How my new work will be hung has felt very important. It's unusual for me to fixate on framing so early on in the process. 

I suppose this is because of the value of FRAMING a concept in the most broad definition of the term.

Above: image of vintage 'frame-less mirrors'
that have inspired me as well. 

To the right you see the beginning stages of getting the materials ready for these pieces: 

The top image is of laboriously cut and sanded pine wood panel which has then been gessoed and sanded at least 6 times to imitate the wonderful surface of Ampersand panels which I cannot afford!

Below that photo is a pile of goodies for hanging these frame-less works, all found in my basement of delights. It's in moments like these I know exactly why I don't like to throw anything away. My Basement is like Snoopy's doghouse.

Finally, I share a photo of a mirror hung in the cellar bathroom area of a restaurant I was in this weekend. I love the way it hangs - lurks, dauntingly over the viewer. It seems to be floating.

Reflections: Los Bichos

 

Until further notice I will refer to these studies as Los Bichos (the bugs). Amongst other concepts, the new work is addressing parasitic relationships.  But, today I'm here to share the joy and frustration of exploring new techniques.







In the process of investigating replication and reflection, I decided to toy with mirror and muriatic acid. Dangerous, unpredictable, fun. I have a long way to go to get the effects I'm hoping for, but I didn't realize they would be so hard to photograph!

These samples are the same piece - taken at different angles! Happy Accident? It may be so.

 

So, I began to do it on purpose. 

Now what!?

Stay tuned...

                 

    

Recovering productivity junkie

After a long hiatus from making studio work, I've been able to manage at least about 10 hours a week over the last few months - throw a full time job and a child into the mix and that requires a lot of organization and determination. For the last ten days, extra appointments and spring cleaning kept me from working in the studio.  The detachment from the so-called zone was palpable yesterday, when I finally claimed a day to reacquaint myself with the many works in progress I have spread across the dining room table. I lamented (yet again) the loss of the glorious studio spaces I enjoyed in my last 3 homes.

I was reminded of an article by sculptor Carol Bove's self-help guide for artists on Artspace.

Bove encourages artists to have a space designated for artistic discovery,
'a non-purposive, free space in which to play and have fun...'. 

Having always balanced another job and then motherhood with the need to make art, I have often imposed a pressure on myself for product when I find time to work in the studio.  

This brings me to another key point in Bove's guide. She meditates on the fact that we refer to art - and the making of it - as 'work'. Here is an excerpt:

WHAT IS AN ARTIST’S ACTIVITY IF IT’S NOT WORK? 

I started to adjust my thinking about productivity so that it was no longer valued in and of itself. It strikes me as vulgar always to have to apply a cost/benefit analysis to days lived; it’s like understanding an exchange of gifts only as barter. The work exercise made me feel as if I was awakening from one of the spells of capitalism. And there was more to it than that: I was able to begin the process of withdrawal from my culture’s ideology around the instrumentality of time, i.e. that you can use time. I think the ability to withdraw from consensus reality is one of the most important skills for an artist to learn because it helps her to recognize invisible forces.


So, at the dining table, not in a spacious studio, I just got to doing something, anything, to take all pressure off of finishing a piece of art. While exploring new methods and materials feels 'low-risk' when I've been away from the project for a while, I'm coming to accept that it's actually a requirement that enables me to slow down and allow for days in the 'studio' (or wherever my creative space happens to be), that are free of pressure.


The images I included in this post are of some experiments I did for framing some works in progress. Aluminum plumbers tape + adhesive plastic window lace + oil paint = a texture somewhere between old tooled leather and an old tin roof tile with a patina.

Relevance: Choosing symbols

There are fleeting moments when I fantasize about being satisfied painting still-lives or landscapes from observation...then I remember who I am and what drives me as an artist. I piece things together, whether it be collage, assemblage or a conglomeration of symbols, trying to find a delightfully puzzling way to tell a story - for those who can take the time to look at it long enough. 

As I embarked on my current series a few months ago, I felt a longing for RELEVANCE, more than I ever have before. I've always been a bit 'old school' in my choice of materials and exhibition venues because I want folks who may not regularly look at art to feel comfortable to check it out and have an individual response without feeling irritated that they don't 'get' it. That's the educator in me.

This time around the message was clear first, so the conundrum was...what symbols and imagery should I use? JUST START said my intuition. Adjust it as you go along and learn from the process. 

Then I read something helpful. I really dig maps and the process of mapping things out, from statistics to ocean currents. While reading Visual Complexity: Mapping Patterns of Information by Manuela Lima (Princeton Architectural Press, 2011), I was particularly impressed by the advice on starting out a new line of work. We are urged to consider the individual or universal relevance in advance and throughout the process. The greater the processing effort, the lower the relevance. 'Spare the viewer the gratuitous effort'.  Check this book out, both the imagery and the commentary on changing world behaviors are captivating.

I winced as I remembered a critique at the Boston Drawing Project years ago, when the coordinator told me not to dump everything I had to say in each piece. Ok, so I'm working on this issue in this new series. It's hard for someone with a voracious appetite for making connections.

I knew I wanted to design some tile designs. I chose black swallows for their status as migrant creatures that mate for life, and that frequented my line of sight during my first few years in Spain. You will see other shapes emerge in upcoming posts, like this one... Can you tell what it is?

The continued challenge for me is to leave well enough alone, edit and simplify the final images. I hope for an immediate visual impact followed by a slow understanding that only comes from having seen a hybrid.

Done with the decay

I had the great fortune to spend 4 days in Toulouse France over the Easter holiday. It's been a while since I have had the time to wander the streets of a new city, absorbing the new surroundings. I decided to share this shot of a friend's home wine cellar.

For the first time in many years, I realized that I had no desire to document buildings in ruins, nor collect souvenirs of the neglect to incorporate into my art work. I found myself standing next to this old fire house (shown below), next to the mortuary of l'Hôpital de la Grave, in the Saint Cyprien quarter of Toulouse.  I had a languid impulse to shimmy a brick free to take home. After all, there was no one around to scold me and I had plenty of room in my bag for a true touch of the sun-burnt brick that gave La Ville en Rose it's name... but I thought, 'nah, - leave the decay just where it is, just where it belongs.'



This is a new sentiment.

My works of art have often incorporated relics of buildings in various stages of decay. My aesthetic sensibilities are changing because I am changing. All eloquent explanations aside, my work is always biographical - whether I like it or not, whether I recognize it immediately or not.

More than once have I heard at an exhibition of my paintings that it looked as though it were a collective, not a solo show. Some called my toying with a variety of media as schizophrenic, unfocused.

Now, particularly after dedicating 10 years to one cohesive body of work, and knowing that I must make a shift in order to make honest work, I feel comfortable doing what I need to do in this moment. It's refreshing to accept that sometimes the artist knows best what muse they must follow.