I was walking my dog when I got the idea. We were tramping along a stream in a wilderness area amid the autumn colour. The way the water flowed over and around the rocks (and the dog), it looked very abstract to me as it reflected back the colour of the forest. I thought about paint being a liquid before it dries, and that perhaps it might be worthwhile applying it as if it were part of a stream, much as I was seeing that day.
The funny thing about creating abstract forms of art is that somehow all these paintings tend to come back to a representation of something for me, some more than others. There have been paintings I’ve worked on, absolutely sure that nobody will figure out where the image source came from, then upon standing back, seeing clearly the image I thought I had left behind. Perspective is everything, and it is why one needs to frequently get some distance on your own work.
Looking for colour cues, I often looked to my garden. In this particular painting, I pulled the colours from an ornamental pond (which has since been replaced with a swimming pool after one of the grandchildren decided to fall into it and see what it looked like from the bottom). I pulled the strokes across the canvas as if the paint were flowing over the shapes, which in this case were inspired by the water lilies in the pond (shades of Monet — see my more conventional approach at Giverny by clicking here.). Given the pond was right outside my studio, I didn’t have to look far to revise and think about the colour. Its about as close to plein air as I have been in some time.
I’ve painted smaller abstracts before, but to me they always require a certain degree of scale, which is likely why I don’t do them any more — my studio (at 98 square feet) is just too small. But I should never say never. At last fall’s Art Toronto several emerging artists spoke of overcoming small studio spaces, some using a diptych. This is one of the last pictures I did using this approach to abstract painting. Even at three feet by five feet, it still feels small to me.

It is also a different process of painting, using more of my arms than my wrists in applying the paint. There is a certain freedom in that. I also apply the paint thick, giving it a certain volume you can see reflected in the light. It was likely aided by the fact that I decided to reinforce that liquid feeling by putting a shiny varnish over it. If you look carefully you can likely see the reflection of light on the edge of the paint strokes.
Being a former graphic designer, I’m always conscious of my abstract work slipping into the decorative. This one likely teeters, but I still like it as a work of art.
Surprisingly, these paintings were quite successful for me, many of them ending up in private hands. This one remains in our hallway.
—
Don’t miss another post! Subscribe using the black box on this page. It’s free and I’ll never sell my list on to purveyors of naughty sex toys.

Leave a comment