Underpainting

Underpainting, this is what the physical beginning of my paintings look like. This is what they look like as my painting style has developed. It has become a physical process I have described, before, as somewhere between drawing and sculpting. I add many layers and take them away, sometimes carve them away. The process from outside of me has been described as destructive, which I take as a compliment – that parallels, very much, the process of what some of the paintings feel like to create.

I have to destroy the painting to find it. Much feeling is created, here. The painting starts as this, then evolves with many more layers. More layers of paint. More feeling. Sometimes I add, sometimes I take away. The painting is speaking to me the entire time, like someone speaking. There is something like a dictation – an outside source that magically comes through me and every experience, every relevant part of me I have ever been. The painting is created.

I carve with a palette knife, I use a hair dryer to make faster the process of the paint setting. I whitewash over the results. I use towels, bath towels, paper towels, any kind of towels. I find they can make an imprint. I find they can wash away. I can go through many, I can go through few. Each painting has its own direction. This painting pictured above is the underpainting of Flowers for Neptune. This is the centerpiece for an upcoming art show in Shreveport, Louisiana. I will try to make the result of this painting my next blog post. Surely, I can think of something to write along with it.

There were many layers in this. Some destruction. Much fun, some stress. It is of interest to me what each painting will look like. It can be a surprise to me, even, and I love that. It is good to be surprised by life. It is good to not know the expected results of that. It is in living that we are guided and, when we trust, we see. We see that most, if not all, really will be okay. Go confidently in the direction of your path. There are others waiting to hear your stories along their way.

Thanks for being here and listening to my stories,

c.s.