News and Notes

Yeah, whatever. The worst thing about blogging is coming up with titles for entries.

Working has been sporadic lately. Those two weeks of the flu didn't help. I've been getting confused again between the work and commerce. Having no income will do that to you.

I'm happy to be donating a piece to the CAP art auction again this year. Lately this auction has been my only venue for showing. Hope to begin changing that with my compatriots here playing organs and telling stories.

Also, finally have some affordable art up for sale at Etsy.com (Some new stuff, some old stuff.) I'd love it if you stopped by to take a look!

Dahlke Art

What the world gives us

About this time every year I head to Art Media and buy myself a tube of cadmium green light. I think, this is a new color for me. I bet no one is using cadmium green light these days. What an unusual color choice. At some point I wake up and look around and see the whole world is cadmium green light. It's exploding overnight, everywhere. And better then what's in my tube.

It's the amazing gift of a visual life.

i forgot to forget

Eight days ago we moved the last of our belongings out of our house, which now sits with no plaster on the walls and only dust and rubble on the floors. Missing windows allow the cool morning breeze to blow through and the sound of traffic to interfere with our conversation. Everything has moved to my former studio, which is a disconnected basement of the remodel project above, a storage unit, or the dark windowless crawl space below the studio. It’s the crawl space where all of my art supplies lay. Only a couple of sketchpads and Ticonderoga Number Two’s made it to the new dwelling. When spring brings fairer weather the great outdoors will become my painting studio.

It’s strange not painting. I guess the change of medium is good for me, but drawing just doesn’t give the satisfaction I get from splashing paint around. I’m such a messy painter. Making lines just isn’t the same. What if I forget how to paint? I remember after graduating from art school thinking that. If I didn’t keep painting constantly, maybe I would forget. I felt like the ability to paint was tenuous, and just barely remembered between sessions, as though the time between painting was like a battery slowing losing its charge. If that time went too long the battery would drain completely and I’d be left without the ability to start up again. I remember telling this to another artist and he said he thought it would be good to forget how to paint. His comment befuddled me, and I assumed that he was just so much more experienced than me that what he really meant was that he knew he wouldn’t completely forget, that by “forgetting” he really just meant that he thought it would be good to shed his skin a bit and try something new. He knew that his ability was on a strong foundation and not in danger of disappearing completely.

It has been a month since I last painted. My fears of forgetting how from several years ago are no longer there, but I do miss it. When I do begin to paint again, when the materials are brought out of their dark storage and dusted off, I will face another change. I have no space to store any new paintings. The storage units are stuffed full. The walls are covered. I will have to paint small and maybe on paper to minimize the impact on space. Maybe I’ll paint disposable paintings. I don’t know. I need the magic disappearing ink so that each day the paper will be white again. Whatever I do it will be different and challenging. No more huge canvases with broad gestures. I will have to miniaturize the experience. Gulliver with a paint brush. What will that be like? What will I remember and what will be new?

Bleargh

One of those nights where I don't know if anything I did worked, but I'm sure some of it was a detriment, and plenty was sh*t. Still, it was fun. My stomach-bug induced hops-aversion is gone, which helps. LCD Soundsystem, Stereolab and good reggae on the iPod. Then I got to the last horrible painting. I guess I'm painting a daisy. Oh well.

I'll post some pics someday maybe.

Recently, I only seem to work either really small or too big (too big for my budget, paint ain't cheap). This painting is 5 x 7. I have never outgrown a fascination for the depth you can create on a tiny 2 dimensional plane. I am the tortoise and not the hare, making variations on this over and over. This is how the estuary at Gearhardt felt this winter, but it's really a tiny bit of paper. Amazing. To me. My needs are simple.

Sick Time

Still working on not letting the world come to a grinding halt when my kid is sick. Now that the wife is sick too, it's more tricky.
It occurs to me that I have seven days to finish my piece to submit to the CAP Art Auction (and six other pieces +/- for other calls). Yep, creating work specifically to donate to an auction - but it's always a good time, and whenever I put my art out there, I want to put my best foot forward.

But I suppose there's vomit to clean up somewhere ...

Interesting dynamic (wait, that sounds boring)

Since I've actually been working a bit I've noticed some things. I guess it's good to actually look at how you work and think about it. Lord knows I'm on some form of auto-pilot most of the time, considering the number of times I've noticed I'm driving the wrong direction out of habit for going somewhere else.

* I'll always go with an intriguing tangent, even if it derails what I intended to do with a painting.
* That's why I feel like I don't stick with things long enough - half the time I'll start a body of work, and change the direction a few times while working on it.
* To this end, it seems like ideas I want to explore get dropped and forgotten frequently.

Anyway, I have a new piece with a figure/ ground relationship, that's something I haven't exactly done in a few years. Yipee!

Don't get too

Guess I'm thinking about pushing things or getting into refinement. Even though I'm kind of stuck on a medium, I've changed things every series of work. I feel like I abandon stuff before I actually get good at it, but that's ...

Just Checking In

I guess we've all been playing our organs rather than telling any stories (rim-shot). Oh yes, and the holiday season blew on through.

But ... the Monday after New Year's Day, I've been down in the basement cradling up two new panels to answer a pair of calls for art. Due at the end of the month, so I have to get cracking. An ill-guarded secret in the world of 'artists' is that many of us work much better under pressure. That is, if we have a show coming up or some other need to produce work, it's a real good motivator, otherwise, many of us might just think about working a lot, and bitch about finding the time.

And then there's Dave Trowbridge, but he's kind of an exception.

In the studio, making little landscapes for Christmas gifts. Nice to paint with no pressure. Doesn't have to be important, just full of love. Happy Holidays, blogger pals, glad to be painting alongside you all!

it could be now

CH CH CH CHANGES...

change is good, right?

I am a person who likes routines, for the most part. I get up at the same time every day, make coffee, and head to the studio for an hour before getting ready for my day job. I have done this every day for probably five years. It’s nice. It charges my batteries for the day. I paint, draw, meditate, read, write … whatever feels right that day; whatever is needed to soothe the soul.

Today however, my studio is torn apart. The floors are covered with muddy footprints and there are scraps of wood with bent nails protruding from them strewn about. All of my paintings have been removed and only a few pieces of furniture remain. It’s cold down there. It is no longer a fortress of solitude, but simply an access point for the foundation guys to get to the house’s footings so they can shore them up in preparation for the pending remodel upstairs.

Today I sit in my living room, also sparsely furnished as we have sold most of our stuff so that our belongings are more portable when the time comes to vacate for the remodel. I did whip out a quick drawing in a small sketchpad before sitting down to write this, but mostly I just have the overwhelming need for a new routine. The drawing is of two empty chairs facing toward me, like small children who have joined forces to ask their father for something. They sit there in silence with blank stares. What??

This time is good, right? I keep asking these things for affirmation. I mean, my painting was kind of going through a change anyway. The wrestling pictures are evidence of this. Maybe this time will provide the space I need to contemplate the next steps for my painting, without just thrashing about on the canvas. I can work things out in my head, and on sketch pads, and through writing down ideas before approaching the next series of paintings. It’s a good thing, right? Hmm. Yes. Breathe…

The new routine begins.