A Series of 6

This series of 6 paintings (4 are 2' square, and 2 are 3' square) began in the summer of this year, and are still being addressed at least three times a week, as the dry time of oil paint allows. This theme and aesthetic is not new, and these paintings are all following a very similar pattern, yet they all diverge from one another as the conditions of the composition change each week. For some time, this work stood apart from the drawn lines and points of the observed grid compositions, but the similarities are more rooted than I ever anticipated.

Each of these canvases began with the same pattern of lines and shapes drawn in pencil on the blank white gesso, they also have the same color palate, and they are all being painted at the same time (though some began before others). However, the slightest variations in size and surface condition have required a customized approach, setting each canvas on an individual path that becomes more and more pronounced as they continue. Now, it is obvious that these paintings are also subject to chaos, though they present such a solid and centered pattern.

Decision/Chance

In thinking of process, the weight of decision becomes paramount. There are several ways to approach the philosophy of decision-making, but in this series, the question looms: to what degree does one control one's decisions, and of what significance is that control?
Upon the completion of panel#17, the process of observation combined with dictation/record-keeping has illuminated the finer points of production. If I can pare down the basic elements of these compositions and clarify the language by which I interpret them, then I need to look deeper into why these elements exist in the forms that they do.
So many of the bygone decisions made in the evolution of these drawings are now a priori; in order to awaken these 'lost senses' of decision-making, there must begin a collection of decision making tools that will assist in the realization of every element of the composition. In order to design these tools, each and every little line, point, color, number, length, and position will have to be scrutinized and then I will have to design the decision tools to function in such a way as to allow me to have some control over the final result. To give up all control over the final image is simply unthinkable to me right now. I have to have some control over what happens on these panels in order to make images that will function successfully in an aesthetic arena.
The control that I need to have will manifest as a control over the labeling of areas of the grid (if the columns of the right and left side have the same names, their representation is half of the representation of rows that are each individually named across the two sides), of creating schemes (for example, if one color is drawn as a starting point, all subsequent colors must follow according to order), and in the design of the tools themselves (if I draw rocks from a bag, I might learn to recognize the subtle differences in the shapes of rocks that I prefer). Maybe, one day, I will learn to love and trust chance, but right now I feel as though I would just be left out; as though all of my hard-earned individual artistic knowledge and expertise on the subject were worthless (uh ohhh...not ready to explore that...).
Currently, this project is a tool for dissection, and a meditation on decision-making. It is like a child that will endlessly ask, "why?", and then about the point when the answerer will finally run out of answers.

Glass Chaos Drawing #1

The glass panel study for #12. Looking again at the Glass Chaos Drawings, I realize that I will have to go buy a thicker leaded mechanical pencil. Not ink, and not black, but thicker pencil. This piece is 12" by 12" by 2", acrylic on two panels of glass made in 2008.

Panel 2 (from drawing #12)

I have begun the second panel, this time with somewhat larger text and much larger points. My organizational system is greatly improved, and I wish that I had begun with this drawing (from an original drawing made in Quito in 2006 labeled #12 on the back of the paper- obviously made before #17). The fact that this drawing has only two 'poles' and a left and right rather than hemispheres makes it much less complicated to observe than #17.

Finished drawing; Finished Piece?

All elements of the drawing have been completed, with some mistakes and modifications, and every step is dutifully recorded. However, I do not consider this to be a finished piece.

After much deliberation, I have decided not to darken any lines within the grid; the delicate look of the thin grey lines is better than any previous attempts I have made to create these drawings with thicker or darker ink. My hope is that the lightness of the lines will draw viewers closer to the surface (yet to be seen...)

The text on the margins of the grid have presented many problems: One; if this piece is hung on a wall, reading the text (which is written from all directions--often upside down or sideways), is problematic. Two; reading the text is problematic anyway because it is cryptic and confusing, and lacks any obvious systematic organization. Three; the effect of the small lettering is a bit too distracting; I would like to see the text, but still recognize the grid drawing as the dominant visual element. Given these problems with the current configuration of the text, it cannot be removed from the immediate borders of the drawing. Putting the rules on a panel to the side or otherwise detaching them from the creative surface would not serve my purposes conceptually; I do not want them to come off as contrived or gimmicky, and I don't want to elevate them to some self-important stand alone status. Their role in the drawings must be on level with, or slightly less emphasized than the finished image.

Some of these problems can be solved in this piece: A stand to support the surface as a tabletop can easily be built, allowing for viewing in-the-round (this also forces viewers to approach the piece more intimately), and a darker pencil line can be drawn around the perimeter of the grid, framing the drawing and giving it emphasis. Other of these problems however, will have to be solved in subsequent pieces; I now know what structural elements need to be clearly labeled, and can more systematically observe the individual steps (I would like to eventually get them down to one-line equations...). What I hope to see happen is the evolution of a symbolic language that informs these drawings, one that is clear and concise and can assume a more aesthetically pleasing role.

I am not yet going to seal this surface, but I am getting started on the next.

Working Decisions

In the last couple of days, a few new ideas have occured to me. One: I should be able to trust decisions that I make while I am working (decisions made while idle are usually either fruitless or banal). Two: Maybe I should continue to make the same drawing over and over again on all three surfaces, or at least two, and only change the format of the 'rules'. As I make this interpretation of #17, I am beginning to realize that my organization is very clumsy, and could be improved upon, so that should be explored. Three: these pieces are probably best viewed as horizontal surfaces; not hanging on the wall.

Also, a friend visited the studio and submitted an idea which may become the point of departure for a future installation. It involves drawers--I can say no more.

Barter

These two paintings (both oil on canvas, 2' by 2') were made as a pair in 2004. They were inspired by Costa Rican rainforest. They have been close to my heart, as I still see the colors and subtleties of the rich vegetation high on the mountain slopes of Trogon. More importantly, I recall the feeling of that place--the cool humid air, the music of the numerous bird calls, the sounds of the stream... I could go on, but I paint; I am no wordsmith. So these paintings are meant to reflect the perfect harmony and balance of that forest, and they represent the memory of a moment when everything in the world seemed just right.