Inspiration for Making Art, Uncategorized

A ladder and two kids

I recently traveled to The Netherlands. Although the timing was right for tulip season, it was also the perfect trip for an art nerd. Of the seven museums my traveling companion and I visited, five of them were art museums. From Van Gogh to Vermeer to Rembrandt to Banksy, inspiration greeted us at every turn. But inspiration finds us in unexpected places as well. In one instance, the source is framed by the bicycle culture of Amsterdam and a pick-pocketed passport.

Yes, on the third day of the trip, a ride on an over-crowded tram resulted in an empty purse pocket and unplanned outings to the police department and the U.S. Consulate. As I waited for step two of the process of obtaining a temporary passport (just in case I decided not to stay in the EU), I fell into conversation with other Americans in similar situations. One such individual was a young expat who had moved to The Netherlands to be with her Dutch husband. I asked her what were the biggest adjustments she had to make as she learned to live there. I was especially curious about adapting to the way people move—on two wheels. “It was very hard at first,” she replied. “But now I can ride a bicycle carrying a ladder and two kids.”

Yes, the Dutch do seemingly impossible everyday tasks on bicycles. Not only is it a way to ably cope with living in a densely populated country, it also keeps the air clean and, I dare say, contributes to good health. Cycling there is not just for the under-30 crowd; young and old alike cross the canals and navigate the streets, living their daily lives on two wheels.

bikesoncanal

View from the canal

bikeparkingNL

Double-decker bike parking

I laugh as I picture the young woman with the ladder and two kids on a bike! But I also consider how often I face something in the studio that appears impossible. “I can’t save this painting.” “It’s impossible to make the painting look like what’s in my head.” “I’ll never be able to paint a figure as well as (fill in name of current artist hero).”

I imagine she endured some of her own negative self-talk as she learned to make bicycle transportation a natural part of her life. I’ll bet she practiced. A lot. And now it’s second nature. So the lesson for me is, keep practicing. Paint that figure over and over. Explore that theme over and over. Experiment with that color palette over and over. One day, it will all become second nature, and I’ll be able to carry my artist’s equivalent of a ladder and two kids on a bike.

See related post: Putting the “practice” into my studio practice

Join me on Facebook and Instagram for behind-the-scenes peeks and first postings of new work.
All art is copyrighted by Laura Hunt, and may not be reproduced without express written permission.

 

 

 

 

Standard
Body of Work, My process, New Art, Pattern in art, studio practice

A new body of work: how and why

A new body of work is my focus this year, as my newsletter subscribers and social media followers know. I even canceled my April Art & Hospitality Happy Hour because I just needed space allowing the work to find its way through the dark woods.

So what about this new work? There’s a short backstory. Over the past four years, my practice has been all about texture, pattern and color. But for a couple years I’ve heard an insistent, whispering voice urging me to bring the human figure into my work. No, not the human figure–rather, the human experience. Couple that nagging voice with the observation by a respected friend and artist that there’s something of myself missing. She knows me well. She knows of my concern about the larger issues of culture and society. Her advice: “Just think about it while you’re painting.” That was it. The path was still foggy, but I took it anyway.

figure in progress-lo

Figure in progress

I began by making decisions about how the human figure would be painted, acknowledging to myself that I have no interest in creating detailed realistic renderings. I chose to aim for symbolic images that allow us to see ourselves or others in the undefined faces. I look for universality, no matter the color of the skin. Faces can be blue, green, white, pink, purple—whatever works to serve the composition. These archetypal humans live in ambiguous backgrounds that only suggest their surroundings. Collage elements introduce the pattern and texture I have always gravitated to, contributing anchors to the design.

19521 Coffee For Two-Study-lo-sq  19518 Yellow Hat-Study-lo-sq  19524 Human Coming-Study-lo-sq  19517 Seated Girl on Blue-Study-lo-sq

Click on images above to see details.

I can’t claim the work is mature yet. What I have right now is a collection of 25–30 studies where I’ve developed concepts, colors and compositions. Some haven’t worked at all; they will never get the privilege of an inventory number. The works I’m not sure about are parked on my studio table, ripening. Or rotting. Eventually it will be obvious whether they make the cut or not.

What is working well is to reflect on my heart’s concerns while working. My friend was right. The fog is lifting a bit. I continue to create more studies, and from them, I’ll choose some as references for larger work. The process is both invigorating and frustrating as I experiment with ideas and how to express them. I’m wondering what the series will be like in a year, and would be so honored if you choose to join this journey with me.

Join me on Facebook and Instagram for behind-the-scenes peeks and first postings of new work.
All art is copyrighted by Laura Hunt, and may not be reproduced without express written permission.

 

Standard
studio practice

Best moments of 2018

For the past few years, I’ve written an annual review of my studio practice. Having come to this career from one in marketing and graphic design, it appealed to my business side. Parts of it are pretty nerdy–stats on website visits, social media followers, works produced and sold, emails and blogs written, etc. Metrics are important. For example, I was happy to learn that sales for 2018 exceeded those of 2017. That doesn’t mean I’ll be taking a globe-circling trip anytime soon, but I’ve already signed up for a workshop from my favorite famous artist-teacher.

While metrics can range from disappointing to revealing to encouraging, they don’t fill the heart. Writing the annual review does bring other important things into focus, moments I may have forgotten until prompted. That’s what I’d like to share with you today. Here are my three favorite art moments from 2018:

Moment #1. Caught by Green Lines and Pink

Green Lines and Pink-lo

I’ve read several biographies of Georgia O’Keeffe’s fascinating life, and am familiar with her most famous published works. Having enjoyed exhibits of her work at Amon Carter Museum of American Art, Dallas Museum of Art, and Chicago Institute of Art, I’ve been exposed to her well-known body of work. I expected no surprises when visiting the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum in Santa Fe, New Mexico, last summer. Yet, surprised I was when I encountered this painting, Green Lines and Pink, oil on canvas, 1919. I returned to it several times during my visit, wondering why I had never seen it before. Maybe it was just the novelty, or the sense of discovery. Her subtle gradations, the two sensuous  spheres caught in the folds, the simplicity of the composition, the mystery—all of this caused me to stop for a moment of reverence and wonder.

Moment #2. Practice Matters

practicing

I wrote about this in a previous blog, “Putting the practice into my studio practice.” It’s such a simple but profound concept, to grant permission to make mistakes, to try that same composition or concept again, to see what happens if I paint the same thing again and again. This acknowledges that not every work is wonderful, not every work is worthy of a slot in my inventory. Some will go in the trash or get painted over or end up on the collage materials stack. Some may never see the light of day. Practice must be a significant part of my creative journey. It helps me hone the craft, to be more discerning. I’m grateful for that moment of realization.

Moment #3. Art Builds Community

During the hubbub of one of my studio events, I was struck by the buzz of diverse conversations in the room. People shared their interpretations of the work, what they saw, and why they were attracted to it. Not all interactions were about art, but about everyday ideas and ordinary life activity. New relationships began, old friendships renewed, and guests from all walks of life united in this one social moment–with art the vehicle that brought them together. (Free wine may have helped.) Art has the power to create experiences to be shared by those in its presence. It was powerful enough to make it to my top three favorite moments.

Looking in the rear view mirror holds lessons and insights that inspire me to look forward. I wonder what 2019’s annual review will reveal?

Join me on Facebook and Instagram for behind-the-scenes peeks and first postings of new work.

All Laura Hunt’s art is copyrighted and may not be reproduced without express written permission. Copyright 2018 Laura Hunt

 

Standard