I don’t always know where I’m going. I know where I want to end up but with the ease of entering that destination into my phone I seldom need to do anymore than just listen and follow what I’m told to do. Sometimes I look at the step by step directions that are available so I know what to expect, but most of the time a quick glance at the map shows me the big picture and I’m off, happy with the general idea of where I’m going.
It didn’t used to be that way, as many of us remember. Finding the location for a first time visit to a new coffee shop or doctor’s office or a friend’s home usually started with a conversation. A personal invitation was given and then accepted. Or a phone call was made, letting the business know that I wanted to find them. Detailed directions were shared while I wrote them down and then read them back to make sure I had everything I needed to find the location. We often discussed how long it would probably take to get there. When the time came to make the trip, I knew where I was going because I had pictured it in my mind as I was listening and writing. A quick review made sure the picture was still there. If I needed prompts, I wrote the road names or other details in letters large enough to see at a glance when I looked down at the directions sitting on the seat next to me. Though it wasn’t always uneventful, I usually arrived at the time expected.
I’m happy I can now get around with the fair certainty of arriving at my destination simply by listening to instructions. GPS makes it easier to get around and sometimes it has made my adventures safer. I’m glad my children have had access to such a powerful life-tool. But I wonder if something has been lost by not thinking it through for ourselves.
I don’t always know where I’m going in a painting. I know what I feel and want to convey, but applying watercolor puts a little of the unknown on paper. I’ve been working in this medium for over thirty years so I know how to make it behave. But the magic of painting is that it’s often better - for what I want - to let go a bit. To allow for unexpected mixes; to color outside the lines once in a while.
Kind of like the old way of navigating, a painting takes some background work. I usually play with some very loose sketches to plan a general layout. Then I spend a surprising amount of time searching for or taking reference photos. When I was young I thought that artists who could just draw “from your head” were the best because that impressed people so much. I’m not that kind of artist. Whenever I draw without something to look at, the subject comes out cute… even if it’s not supposed to be cute. My mind is a whimsical place.
Because I’ve worked at it for much of a lifetime, I can often replicate what I see, though not always quickly. I study line and shape carefully, trying to memorize what I see and then draw, only looking at a photo or object long enough to stay on track. Most paintings will come from the inspiration of several photos. Sometimes I will weave someone else’s photo into my painting, interpreting their subject in a new way, a personal way. But I usually work from my own photos.
I sketch my paintings loosely, keeping details to a minimum. I know where I want to go, I plan how to get there, I work with photos to keep my subjects accurate and realistic (with a cuteness twist).
I live life much the same way.
How fortunate I’ve been to grow up in a world that has required me to figure things out on my own. And yet also to live in a time of increased knowledge and the resources of technology. I still don’t know what I want to be now that I’m grown up but I know that I have a heart for making art, for art education, for planting seeds of creative thinking and problem solving. Art can bridge these worlds I’ve lived in.
What happens to the generations who have only learned to do what they’re told? What happens when we try to live without process and struggle? What if we never learn to borrow an idea from someone else, take what’s meaningful and let go of what is not?
Art isn’t just for the fortunate few who were given a special gift. Each of us has been created in the image of the Creator, designed at birth to conceive and raise new ideas. Even the most talented artists must spend time making art to develop potential; creative force will build when we routinely go beyond what we’re told. Art teaches us to expand boundaries, to picture where else to go.
It’s the time of year I often ask myself where I’m going. Not because the year is still new but because Spring is hinting its return. The transition from winter darkness to fresh young light is hopeful and energizing. I’m ready for new possibilities to sprout right along with buds on bare branches.
I can’t wait to immerse myself in spring-inspired paintings: flowers, gardens, creatures great and small. But I will also be outside, rearranging nature, creating inspiration in a new garden.
Let’s let our art grow!
