Baseballs and Ink Blots

My mind meanders, like a creek that wears down the earth and exposes limestone layers. I suppose painting and writing are a way of structuring thoughts. Sometimes in life, I would find a fossil in the limestone layers.

Reflections

An old basebase ball, left ourside too long. Weathered and falling apart, a visual effect more interesting to my eye than the shiny, new baseballs out there.

The interior exposed somewhat, creating patterns against a different pattern in the background. The dirt adding a touch of chaos.

Did you play, or do you still play? Are your memories pleasant or not so great?

Simplicity

One of my professors would tell me that the key to good design was simplicity, simplicity, simplicity. This was an architectural design course and it one of the few ideas that stick with me.

My intent is not to suggest that is the path I am following. It is what I keep returning to; however, one must grow as a person, unless you have given up hope.

It would be a mistake for me to divorce being an artist from being a person. They are one and the same, whether one makes a living at Art or has some other source of support.

P.S.

I like black and white photography. Things can exist without color. Although we would miss color terribly, it is not needed for existence. Shape, volume, color: I wonder if those would work for me as a guide to painting? I am sure someone has written along these lines. Good thing that I like to read.

Undisciplined

Hmmm

Okay, first post of the year.

That should make it obvious that I am not a disciplined writer. Not that I have ever claimed to be such. The gift of words, such blessings has never graced my life. So even a paragraph like this is a struggle for me.

It is easier than speaking in front of large groups of people. That I am sure of.

The attached charcoal sketch was for fun; but, it turned out a lot better than most.

Imagination and a few references were the source. Something I like to do; but, it does not help me develop the skills I need.

The ability to draw what I see. It’s muscle memory and needs to be exercised by drawing on site, on in studio, some thing in front of me.

So I start to arrainge my schedule to include drawing from life, from objects, and anything in front of me.

A Pile of Memories

Cities are dirty. The nooks and crannies of forgotten structures, built over generations, those remain; but, the passions that built them fade until someone sees them again. Cities are not the future. They are merely a rest stop.

Yes, cities have resources. Yes, there are opportunities not present outside of cities. But, what attracts people to cities are what has happened in the past. It’s the memory of someone achieving an easier life that draws other people to the cities.

To put it simply, Cities are a pile of memories which happen to have attached themselves to a place. Over time, memories fade into lore. Or dissapear altogether.

Nothing is permanent.

The only reason any city exists is because of the will of Mankind. Without that, cities fall into patterns of decay and regrowth, the unstoppable cycle of nature reclaiming it’s place.

Muse

Dear No Oneinparticular,

I imagine you are struggling with writing that letter you promised to me. Knowing your habits and other foibles, you are sitting up in bed, with the laptop warming your lap and the screen lighting up your face in a spectaclarly spooky fashion, not that you need help in being spooky.

You are waiting for Inspiration.

Judging by the number of ancient gods supporting arts, the word inspiration is describing a gift from outside of the artist. Inspiration is not reliable, not in the sense that it arrives on a schedule. Honestly, I am not sure if artists actually rely on inspiration.

Yet, when I even lightly read accounts of master artists, most didn’t wait on inspiration. Renaissance master studios remind me of modern day factories, except there were more chances to move up the ladder - no real division between management and labor. Picasso produced an incredible amount of painting, sculptures, and other stuff. Warhol was, as far as I can tell, running a factory or possibly a reality show without televising it. It is hard to imagine any of these artists waiting on something out of their control.

So, I sit here and type and put off drawing. And, inspiration becomes a tool of my procrastination. I sincerely believe: The gods had one message for their people: “Grow up. You already know what you have to do.”

The gods got tired of our whining prayers. Make me rich. Inspire me. Take out my enemies: Seriously, what made me think any diety would listen to that crap all day. Money is gathered. Inspiration is found. Taking out my enemies, actually I would rather keep the one’s I have - they’re not very competent.

Sincerly,

BLP

Just write the letter. And, don’t ask me for money.

Charcoal

Historically painters also worked in charcoal either as a base for painting, or as works in their own right. Why charcoal? I have no idea. I am not inclined to look it up; even though, the AI’s make that easy to do.

For me, charcoal is fun to work with. It’s messy, which is usually fun. It’s intuitive, that feel of pressure when controling the amount of charcoal applied. That action feels good. It usually makes paint look dirty, but I might not be aware of the technique. (That also might be exploited for different effects.) Working with charcoal allows me to work on shading and shadow, with out long periods of drying. It is much cheaper than oil paints; and, the finished products look good.

Well,in Art, there is a lot to learn. There is always a lot to learn, perhaps that is one of those universal principles that philosophers are seeking to find. Or, is that artists who are looking? It get’s confusing the number of groups looking for common denominators.

Charcoal landscape study from memories.

Sketchbook - Still life charcoal study.

Absense of Painting

ink sketch of Annie, one of the cats hanging around the studio.

For some reason that I cannot find words for, I have not been able to paint. Drawing is no problem; and, upon reflection not that much different in its affect upon my need to create something. However, it still bothers me in a way that is both gentle and persistant, a combination that rivers used to carve out canyons in the landscape.

It’s very annoying to feel that something is wrong when everything looks peachy keen.

I Am Not A Corgi

Politics and social activism are pretty much two sides of the same coin, like abstact styles and representational styles in painting. In politics, it comes down to a question: Which approach should we chose: Force or Persuasion? This question is neither easy nor comfortable to answer.

Painting has such a question, a silent querry every mural and canvas, every mosaic and window and even the omnipresent electronic screen. But, am I addressing the collective soul like a corgi herding cattle or am I engaging an individual in conversation?

That is a question for each artist to answer; but, it’s not what I am pondering.

What you are being asked, you standing there in front of the screen or stained glass window or canvas, what is the art asking you? It’s your’s to share or keep to yourself. The important thing for me, the artist, is: what is my question? If I find it, then it leads to more questions, one of which is yours.

“Endless questioning” - I think this line of thought leads to: Artists are the Toddlers of civilization.

The Wood Chopper - George Innes, 1849, The painting is currently at the Cleveland Museum of Art, which is source of this image.

Oil painting, done in abstract style. Title is C-10, part of a series exploring the effect of color on composition, so this series always will have a circle in a rectangle.

The idea of working in series started helping me about two years ago. By doing this, and using limited pallates, a needed discipline was introduced into my painting routine. Since painting was not a profession then, time restraints and subject matter had no restraints. (Which is an arguement for supporting oneself with a day job; but, day jobs don’t always work out - also employers tend to want all of their worker’s time.) For me, restraints provide a direction for my paintings.

I say restraints, but it is more like intentional habits that form my process like I do a painting. Partially muscle memory, how one stands, pressure of a pallete knife or brush on the chosen canvas, and even how one holds the instrument. When I am not worrying about composition, I can focus on those details.

I have no idea if this is helpful to anyone. Sometimes, I just need to put things into words to understand things in my head.

B Powell

My Name is Brian

Introduction
Hello, everyone! My name is Brian Powell, and I am thrilled to have this opportunity to introduce myself as an artist. With a passion for creativity that has fueled my work for over a decade, I have explored various mediums and techniques to express my unique artistic vision. Through my art, I strive to evoke emotions, spark imagination, and connect with viewers on a deep level. Whether it is through painting, sculpting, or mixed media, I continuously seek to push boundaries and challenge ideas in order to create truly expressive and thought-provoking pieces.

A keen awareness of the vast legacy of past masters informs my work, an exploration of gestalt, and how we use memories to create images to fill in what we are missing.

As I embark on this journey, I am excited to connect with fellow art enthusiasts, engage in meaningful conversations, and share my artistic perspective with the world. Together, let's explore the power of art to inspire and transform lives.