J O U R N A L / B L O G


Thursday, February 10, 2011

Got home, made some toast. A number of nights ago I used the rest of my room-mates Adams peanut butter and made haste to 7-11 for an emergency variety. Though it is not as tasty, Jiffy certainly is more friendly to the photographer. Stays just as it was scooped on a knife indefinitely... none of that viscous elusiveness found in, say... smoke, which I was trying to photograph yesterday in the form of steam from a coffee cup and out of a cigarette my friend was smoking.

And here is one of the 8x8in canvases I took to the gallery today to hang with 4 others, at the 358 bus stop. I have a lot more blank canvases this size, my plan now is to do a few more of these and then use the rest to make a painting that will truly be re-arrangeable in a lot of ways.

Lighting plays such a strong role... light is vision and though I'd love to I generally don't go about appreciating the greatest paintings by feeling them. And if I went blind I'm sure I'd experiment with paintings designed to be felt, but as it is I prefer that they are viewed, and perhaps gently brushed with fingertips. Strong, tenebrist shadow pervades our visual understanding of the world, and as washed out as banal modern surfaces are like to become, I don't think non-representational painting can ever really forget the effect of light. Everything I see is illuminated, and so it spills into my painting. Pure form still relies on vision to be seen, and where is it that a painting is seen? In a gallery, or on the street? Are the lights fluorescent, are they spots, are they lamps? It all changes, and has meaningful effect on the work even if that work seeks endlessly to purify itself from context, and/or even as the context of the museum seeks endlessly to purify itself from the political world.

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