Principle #5 Risk

This is an excerpt from a book I am working on about Creativity. The book, like the workshops we teach, utilize 6 Principles as a framework, roadmap to allowing more artistry, more creativity into our lives. This excerpt is taken from the chapter on Risk, Priciple #5. -NW

Almost every painting I make ends up somewhere along the line involving some kind of risk. What follows is the typical scenario. This example is just my process, just something that I have noticed again and again in the way I work, the process I often go through in making paintings.

When I initially set about to make a new work often I am spurred along by someone – perhaps a gallery saying or encouraging me to do something similar to a painting that “everyone seemed to like” and that in fact has just sold. Of course, I like to believe that I am not influenced at all by the outside response I get from people, that I am divinely inspired from a higher authority, a genius that doesn’t need or require kibitzing from the sidelines. But sheepishly, I admit that this is not the case with me, with my particular fragile ego. Like most people, I do like to get a positive reaction from an audience. It feels so good. We are social creatures after all and even though I work alone I do consider art making to be a socially minded endeavor. “Well, to re do a painting should be easy enough, I say to myself, as I have made the original painting just last month. I basically am just doing another version of this same painting. I know exactly what to do. In fact I could do this again and again, garnering more and more positive responses…My life could be filled to the brim with positive remarks, lots of sold paintings, bigger and better shows, leading to some kind of celebrity status, an artist to the stars perhaps. But then I snap out of it and realize that it is only Tuesday afternoon – I have practically zero celebratory status and the fact remains I still have a blank canvas in front of me and I have to re create something as good or better than a previous work. In reality it’s not always so easy to do.

I begin the painting that I already know will be successful before I have even started. My mind is clear and dead set on a certain outcome. This goes pretty well at first- I can lay in the basic composition knock in the colors so by the end of the first day I have a reasonable facsimile- a rough version of what my gallery called one of my best paintings. This one is looking good – doesn’t really have the same feeling as the original one…. I quit for the day and think I am just tired- Start again tomorrow- then I will be able to see, to understand what is missing. I have dinner and then pop my head back in the studio on the way to bed, as I just want to see if I do in fact like it better after eating. Paintings rarely get better when your not working on them and this time is no exception.

The next day arrives and with it comes a fresh determination to force this artwork into obedience, wrestle it’s look into the very same thing I made before—I want it, everyone else wants it so I am going to get my way. I even printed out a color copy of the prior painting, the one that just sold, so I can see where exactly I am going to end up. Hours roll along and it seems the painting is getting more similar to my print I have thumb tacked to the wall. But I feel tired, worn out a little bit. Something is missing here. I don’t’ feel particularly good anymore about this ugly stepsister of a painting. I stop to eat lunch—food is always a good distraction and often after eating lunch- giving it a visual break, I can see more clearly what is missing. This doesn’t work this time although I did manage to get involved in making a salad of such complexity that I was preoccupied for well over an hour…so I definitely am no longer hungry, but my painting is still not quite working. I plod on pushing paint around. The whole process is becoming tiring. Why do I want to paint what I have already painted before? Whose idea is this anyway? Yes but that’s what they want- that’s what everyone likes. Somewhere around 3:30pm I get the realization that like my painting before me, my interior, my insides the very core of my being is actually bored to death. This is not fun, not interesting- It’s like “fill in the colors” but with not very good ones. What do I do? I feel hemmed in, stuck on a mind-numbing course of my own design. I finally surrender and sit down in my paint-splattered chair I reserve for such moments. I usually work standing up and feel it’s important, at least for me, to utilize the whole body, but when I become defeated I sit down, rest and take a good long look at my situation. I might not figure it out at first or it might take several more painful days to realize what has gone so hopelessly wrong…But then I get the inkling, the remembrance of what I already know I know. That what is missing in this whole silly business of doing things that are too safe, trying to formulize art, trying to game this business of art making into predictability is simply, Principle #5, RISK. That thing that is always pushed outside the door, that has no place inside a factory that makes cars, a restaurant, a dry cleaners, no spot really anywhere inside our business work lives or for that matter our personal lives either. This thing called Risk is simply unwelcome most everywhere it shows up. Except in Art. And the closest I have ever gotten to wrapping my understanding around what makes one thing art and another just a regular thing has something to do with this crucial ingredient called Risk. It is simply essential to the making of Art.

Finally, left with no other option, humbled to a small shadow of my former self- I throw out the damn notion altogether of making art to get attention, to sell something or gather favorable reviews. I banish all those people standing around with me in my studio, the gallery owners, the beaming art collector couple, the adoring fans, the art critics and lock the damn door behind them. My pulse quickens, I just am going to do whatever the hell I want to do for a change. With a degree of frustration, anger really, anger at myself for thinking I can dabble around the edges, only go in up to my ankles-to actually not Risk something and think I could come up with something worthwhile. Who needs another pretty picture anyway? Is that what I am about? What do I want? What am I willing to say? No I need to reassert- to throw care to the wind and the only way I know how to do this is to sabotage this whole painting in front of me- to wreck it, destroy its pathetic overworked surface and take the chance that I can make something better in it’s place even if I don’t know what that will be. Before I even pick up the 5-inch brush and the half-gallon of black paint I am suddenly feeling better. Giddy more like. The excitement, the sense of aliveness in the room is palatable. I have no idea of what I am about to do – I am afraid, but even this feeling is way better than everlasting boredom. I don’t even want to make art if I have to be that bored ever again, I think, as my brush loaded with black paint hits the surface. I roll a thick wide brushstroke right across the canvas, covering over all this picky work I just spent 2 days doing. It feels right, instinctively – I can sense myself coming alive again…I don’t know where I am going but it doesn’t matter. I can feel this is right…paint is literally flying off the palette now suddenly I am squeezing colors out I have not used before-I am so excited that I don’t stop to put the caps back on –the possibilities are infinite- this painting can go anywhere now. It turns out the gate was unlocked the whole time and I just needed to give it a push. Within minutes this ugly painting starts to change- it’s moving, it’s alive and I am too. I am working too fast to even think about outcome now. I could care less. I am just in it all the way. There is no turning back, this painting is teaching me about who I am, what kind of a person I have become- even what kind of a father I am to my daughters, my insecurities, my smallness my dreams and my fears– its’ all here with me now in the room, in this painting...Its completely engaging, utterly transporting and to a small degree frightening.... And then I stop and step back, my shoes are covered in paint, my blue latex glove has torn and my thumb, uncovered, has been tinged with viridian green and maroon. This painting is strong. I can see that right away. There is a sense of immediacy about it. It resembles nothing I have ever made before.
My dog peers in at me from outside the studio glass door. Her nose steaming the glass. It’s dark outside now, I check my watch. I have been painting for 5 hours non-stop and in front of me quite possibly is one of the best things I have ever made. This appearance of excellence will, of course, change in time but for today I am happy. There is no one to tell. So I ease back down into my painting chair and smiling quietly tell the painting that now you look better. That that is what a real painting should look like.

The Cheese Box

Today, my neighbor, Lila Friday ( http://www.lilafriday.com/) knocked at my door carrying a Swedish cheese box from 1770. She purchased it from a friend who purchased it many years ago in San Francisco. I guess these were used to carry cheese before cellophane was invented or even cars for that matter...She just had to show me because it reminded her of my work and thought I would like it too. Well I did. Very much my colors, if I can be so presumptuous, and, yes, I especially loved how worn out it had become in all it's carrying of cheese, probably back and forth across oceans aboard sailing ships. The colors, in fact, were very similar to a painting that I just had finished. She stood there next to the painting, holding the basket, looking at me, looking at the painting and then back again at the cheese box. She was smiling. I did too. The rain had finally stopped and there were squares of sunlight on the studio floor. I felt slightly very happy. And then I realized I was having one of those moments. A small little thing, an interaction, a gesture perhaps or even a cheese box that somehow takes an ordinary Tuesday and turns it into an especially good one.

Studio

I took this about a week ago and it's fun to see how much I have already changed these paintings. Some are done now. The one on the way left on the wall being cropped out is a painting commissioned by a friend. It was especially challenging as this painting had to go into their home and I wanted it to work. Thankfully they have wonderful taste and their house colors are wonderful. That pea green painting, the one on the floor with the red lines totally changed. I got rid of almost all the colors and ended up with a grey painting with bits of colors coming through. What's crazy is that this process always challenges me. When I took this picture I did not know what to do on several of these. Eventually I figure it out but one would think it would get easier with time. I keep making paintings, over and over again. Actually the one with the red dot in the upper right came very quickly and pretty much looks like it did last week and now it's done.

Ritter Center House Cover

When I finished my house I spent a fair bit of time adjusting this photo in photoshop. I deleted the background and made it white, fixed the proportions so it looked in perspective and even added a drop shadow. I thought that this would make it easy for it to be chosen to be included in some promotion of the event. As an artist, one of the fringe benefits of doing "volunteer" work is sometimes getting your name out there in addition to helping a cause you care about. When I was in the hardware store in town the other day I saw a stand of these publications which featured my house on the cover using this same photo that I had created earlier. There was a pretty good article about the project and some of the various houses that are being displayed around the Bay Area. Unfortunately the publication didn't credit my name with the work in the publication. Oh well. It's all still pretty great.
Here also is a Channel 2 segment the local news did on the project.: http://www.ktvu.com/video/22712153/index.html

The Redford Center

I am involved in this amazing new organization, "The Redford Center" http://redfordcenter.org/ Robert Redford and his family have created this non profit to inspire positive social and environmental change through the arts, education and civil discourse. Besides doing great work in areas of the environment and social justice, what I feel is particularly potent about the Center is their group process they utilize to create dialogue and change. Along with all relevant experts in the particular field of concern, Robert Redford's long standing personal vision of also having artists involved in problem solving and discussions adds an out of the box thinking that can help catalyze solutions.
Last week was one of their first public events in San Francisco. It was an evening of discussion led by Redford Center's Director, Lee Bycel and Robert Redford. In additon, during the evening they honored two local actviists: Avery Hale, a young woman, 16 yrs. old who has started a organization" Step by Step" http://www.stepbystepforshoes.com/ that delivers shoes to poor villages in South America. Also honored was Victor Diaz a principal at Berkeley Technology Academy, a high school continuation school.http://www.berkeley.net/alternative-hs/
A particularly moving moment for me was when Robert Redford was describing early influences in his life. He told how he was a terrible student, and that he was rarely interested in what was being taught. He was constantly doodling in class. The teacher, in an attempt to shame him, forced him to stand in front of his 6th grade class and explain why his drawing was so much more interesting than what she was teaching. Totally humiliated, but lacking any recourse, he began to describe his drawing to the class. His drawing showed B-52 war airplanes shooting at cowboys who were driving a group of Indians off a cliff to their demise. To his surprise, the class actually found it very interesting too and were riveted. In a moment that could of gone either way, the teacher, recognizing the magic that was occurring in her now attentive classroom allowed him to continue. Putting her ego aside, she offered Robert a 15 minute time slot every Wednesday, at the end of class, so he could come up and describe and narrate his stories. As we all know, this is the work he still does today. Storytelling.
I was honored to be able to design the awards that were handed out that evening as well as having my work projected as the backdrop to this event. painting shown "May" 70" x 90" Oil and Beeswax on Panel.

Ritter Center House Finished

I finished it. I was happy that there was only 3 sides and not 4. Painting a house is,well, like painting a house...there is a lot of space on the outside of a house!...I am happy that the figure feels like the house and to me really adds something dynamic to the shape. The inside is very open- pale blue sky in feeling to contrast with the density on the outside of the house. Up high, on the inside where very few will look, is a blue angel.

Ritter Center House Roof Detail

This is a detail of one side of the roof. The snakes and ladders are from the original game that later was turned into chutes and ladders- a board game that deals with fate and luck. I created a board game, calendar motif on the house to symbolize the passage of time and the unknown twists and turns in one's life. The numbers represent the days of the month and the passage of time. The house is 49" x 48" and is made with plaster, acrylic and oil paint. The sculpture is mahogany and oil paint.

Rooftop Man

After I got the figure more defined I ran into a little problem with the hand held disc sander I started with..I couldn't define any details and it wasn't allowing me to carve as carefully as I needed. I called up Joe Brubaker Joe Brubaker - Sculpture a sculptor who also is in Donna Seager's Gallery. His work is amazing and Joe is exceptionally nice. I went over to his studio - a fun space loaded with odd found objects of metal and wood. Remaindered parts of things, half started sculptures of heads and gorgeous miniature bronzes he has had cast of his work. He leant me some tools and told me what not to do and this made all the difference in the world. I especially loved painting the figure as suddenly I was back on familiar territory again, having never carved anything before. It is so fun to paint sculpture because no matter how you paint the form it will always resemble the figure. You are no longer trying to create an illusion with paint. The shape is fixed, but the color is not. I loved painting it. I wanted this figure, that is going to float above the Ritter Center House, to feel as is it is 100s of years old. Very primitive, simple and universal.

Carving the Man

My neighbor gave me this huge chunk of mahogany. I cut out the general shape of the figure and now I am trying to refine it. It's interesting to just be removing and not being able to add anything back on...sculpture is like that--just take away all the parts that don't belong and then you will be left with what you imagined. Easier said then done. I think I will paint on this figure once he is finished. Maybe a dark color, a rich patina. He is going to float above the house like a weathervane on a roof. I will make it so he can move in the breeze.

Ritter Center House -Spoken Words

I am starting to scratch some of the sentences that I have pulled from peoples experiences of being homeless into the walls and roof of my house. So many homeless people talk about how hard it is not having anyone who knows or cares about them. This desire to be connected to people seems almost like a requirement of being human. That without other people in you life it is barely possible to exist. Like food or water. One thing I never thought about is that once you are on the streets there is a kind of loose community of people who are already there. Those people who, for whatever reason, haven't been able to hang on to their homes, jobs, whatever.... What is incredibly moving to me is that these people tend to support each other. They all know that they each represent possibly the last chance of anyone showing up for one another. This one woman writes about this community and what it means to her: "They care about me and miss me if I don't turn up and that makes me feel really special, well at least to someone." I am using a sharp needle like tool to scratch through the paint to form these sentences. Like the dark lines going around the house these words will spiral up around the sides of the house. I still haven't figured out how to carve the figure at the top.

Ritter Center House

I am now working on a project that will benefit The Ritter Center. This is an organization located in San Rafael, California that serves low income families and the homeless. Link: The Ritter Center - Marin Homeless Safety Net - Home There are about 20 artists all making unique houses. When they are done they are going to be installed in public spaces and then auctioned off- all proceeds going to help The Ritter Center. My house is still being figured out but what I am doing so far is creating an upwards path going from the bottom of the house up to the roof. This line will metaphorically represent the long road both out and into homelessness. Like a weathervane floating above the house I am also going to create a figure in balance. Maybe this will be carved out of wood..not sure yet. Symbolizing the buoyancy of the human spirit to transcend but also the very real precarious reality of our lives. I have been reading several blogs on the web, all written by homeless people. It is quite extraordinary that now, not only can we read first hand what these people are going through but we can comment and have a dialogue by leaving comments. Us in our homes at our computers and them at pay per view internet cafes on the other side of the world. Here is a link to one that is really quite amazing. Link: The Adventures of Homeless Girl

I am taking some of words and ideas that seem to be occurring repeatedly in the stories of people who find themselves on the outside edges of society. Ideas such as feeling invisible, needing to be missed and the difficulty of living on the street and I am writing them into the surface of the walls of this house. Although the subject is a difficult one, I am focusing the look and feel of this house to be one of hope fullness. These pictures below are of the house in it's beginning stages.....

Kiwi Vine

In this painting I wanted to keep a very simple composition, but also to have a portion of the painting be detailed but quiet and subtle. Outside my living room window is a huge kiwi vine that I planted several years ago. The wind blows and the branches of this plant are always waving at me. When winter comes all the leaves die and blow, one by one, away.

Delivery Guys

One of the hard parts, for me anyway, about being an artist is all the time alone. I can get busy and not leave the house for several days. Things start to become weird after about a day and a half... sooner if I don't change out of my pajamas till lunch...but why bother dressing - no one is around. We live in a rural area, so apart from the dog, it can become pretty quiet. Then the dog barks and a truck pulls up. The crunch of gravel, a door slam and footsteps up to my door. Normally they just knock and leave it, but today I open it before he has a chance to knock. A UPS delivery person breathing hard from trudging up my driveway with a huge roll of paper ( we make art prints sometimes) is standing at my door. We talk - anything to have a conversation- a bit of news, a remark exchanged about a baseball game that I actually have not seen or particularly care about, but feign I do just to enjoy the banter on the subject. We talk for a few minutes then "See ya! "off he goes. Today I ran with three women friends and they all were talking about how the UPS drivers are really by FAR the most attractive of all the delivery guys because they wear those cute brown shorts. I wondered if UPS figured this dress code would increase their business with their women customers.

Sometimes it's just better to leave the studio and go out into the world.

Collages

I have been making these tiny paper collages in preparation for doing 3 of them quite large on panel. These are about 3" or 4" I have so far made 10. These three seem to go together and are my favorite ones so far.

70 x 60 Problem

Thought I would stick this half made painting up here. So many times I get to this point. This

painting could go either way--kind of predictable, maybe a tad boring or somehow I am going to push it into something significant. The only problem is I don't know what that is yet.

Point Reyes, California

My friend Grant, took me to a secret beach located at the very far end of Point Reyes National Seashore. To access the beach you have to climb down an old rope, but once there we wandered along the deserted beach. The fog was coming in so the light was particularly beautiful. Granite stones being tumbled smooth by the endless rhythm of the sea. 

Side of Dumpster

Driving to my daughters school this morning I passed this dumpster. Whoa.  This is a detail of the door. 

Studio Work

I have been working on several large paintings. These are on canvas which is new for me as I usually work on panels. The wood panels when over 5 or 6 ft get very heavy. I also have been using two up turned 10 gallon buckets on the floor to prop up my paintings while working on them. It puts them at a good height for me to work and the slight angle makes it a bit easier as opposed to being perfectly flat against the wall. So simple. Lately I have been so busy with trying to fit everything in that when I come across something that is so simple and easy I am especially appreciative of it. The same idea has been happening in my painting. Simplification. I am trying to show the paint's own character more and less of the heavy handedness of my own agenda. The clue to this idea comes every day when I am painting. Every time a drip of paint falls off my brush by accident it seem to land in the perfect place in the painting and actually make it significantly better. How can this be? 

Cropping

Often parts of a larger painting can help me see what I might want to focus on in my next painting. Here the looseness and variety of textures and shapes coupled with the subtle grid lines practically could be an entire painting. Less is almost always more. Especially in painting. 

Artplane Workshop at Esalen

Just returned from another Artplane Workshop. I don't think Jennie and I have ever worked with a group of people who managed to paint so much in 5 days. Every night there was a group who stayed up till 2 am working in the "Art Barn" Painting is usually so solitary. I thoroughly enjoyed working with this group. They also ate more chocolate and drank more wine than other groups in the past. I already miss them.

Top Photo, Amy Johnson, 2nd year Artplane student painting mid week.

Christina Byrne and Elizabeth Hudson working late in the afternoon.

Bottom Photo, Jennie Oppenheimer giving an end of the week critique to the students.