What to Paint

The restored Justice of the Peace apartment and studio where we always stay. More on this another day.

Anne and I are once again ensconced in our art-making retreat on the Oregon coast. Once again we loaded the back of the van with all the materials we’d need, including Anne’s press, drawers of materials, all my paints, canvases, and even my ironing board palette holder. We’ll be here for two weeks.  Now to decide what to paint.

For Anne it’s not a problem; she always brings unfinished work to complete. I do some of that too. But I find that, with all of my “must do” projects completed before coming, my galleries sated, no commissions pending, the field of what I can do now feels too broad . . . good for wandering around in but, without a path, going nowhere.

It’s funny: When we have too much to do, particularly if it’s for somebody else’s demand (like any job), we may yearn for the time when we can get away and just pursue our own ideas. Then we get there and find there are no ideas, or just as hard, too many.

So I take a walk. While walking I remember a tiny article I read many years ago in Time Magazine about a group of artists in Japan living and working together for the sole purpose of deeply pursuing their craft. In their case it was pottery, and their methods and approach were from classical antiquity. It’s like they were seeking an aesthetic perfection, and that for its own sake (never a thought given to crass marketing and sales). From the one accompanying photo of a beautiful ceramic specimen, it seemed they were reaching their goals. I kept the article but have long since lost track of where. Still, it remains in my mind.

As I think about it now, on my misty morning walk, it occurs that we’re currently in a situation that is, or can be, at least temporarily, along these lines.  The reminder helps.

Returning from my walk and crossing into the studio area where we’re staying, I happened on a brick walkway, evidence of some earlier fundraising, with inscriptions and names. I read a few. Then my eyes fell on the one apparently placed there just for my moment, left by one Art “Ace” Morgan: “Artist keep painting.”

I’ll take that. And as painting is useful metaphor for everything else, I’ll pass it onto you.

Find something to paint and paint it.