ovals at the grocery store

doodle drawing, ovals, ball point pen – while waiting in line at the grocery store

Waiting in line at the grocery store, I was thinking about the crumpled paper thingies in The Box. To new readers, it’s a thing. Too complicated to explain. But believe me when I tell you that The Box is wonderful. Anyway, I was drawing things in The Box but without The Box. I was just reminding myself of the crumpled paper ovals hanging suspended from my colorful box — which regular readers will be glad to learn has been toned down a tad. I was fiddling around with the arrangement some today, so the Box’s appearance was lingering in my mind.

My ovals in the drawing could as easily be potatoes, a likely subliminal suspect when in a grocery store. As I noted to myself how potato-like the ovals looked, I began thinking about Van Gogh. I painted some potatoes long ago in emulation of early Van Gogh.

Cabbage and Potatoes by Aletha Kuschan, oil on paper on panel

Drawing idly while waiting is relaxing. It’s grocery store mindfulness. Each oval is like the ringing of the mindfulness bell and the hatch marks are like knitting. It has that same repetitive, time-suspending calming effect. You can doodle without a thought in your head. In the background the store’s sound system plays Christmas music and people around me are chatting amicably.

To all these visual treats add the blue ball point pen, the marvelous incomparable Bic Cristal. I love that pen with its rich, sensitive blue ink. All in all, you can find your happiness in quite ordinary circumstances. It had been raining hard when I arrived at the store. As I was leaving, the vast cloud rumpled sky was magnificent in uncanny blues and pinks of a setting sun.

stand alone

abstract forms drawn from observation using The Box

I tell the story of the drawing for now, its origins from observing crumpled paper objects that I hung inside a box whose sides are covered using brightly colored papers. The back story tells how these things got started. Eventually, though, drawings have to stand alone.

The drawing, whether it depicts a scene from nature or is perhaps a decorative caprice of abstract forms, whatever it is, it stands or falls on its own merits. I am not judging the drawings I’m making at present. They are experiments. Sometimes they are just bits of fun. I don’t even know what I think about the drawing presented here, since it’s brand new and I’ve hardly looked at it. Some of the marks of the crayon are pretty.

It’s good to be practicing one’s drawing skill though, and confusing motifs offer particular challenges. They also offer abundant opportunity to let go of preconceptions since even the most precise rendering of this scene is unlikely to be identifiable for the spectator — they are just hanging crumpled paper thingies in a colorful box — a perfect excuse to toss caution to the wind and simply put the line and the color where they seem to go.

collage & design

drawing/collage, approx 7 x 9 inches, no “up” but displayed vertically

My first drawing of an abstract design doesn’t usually turn out very well. I did use even a sort of reference (just so that decisions wouldn’t be completely random). The drawing still didn’t work. So I cut it up and pasted it onto a page the same size as the drawing. A few holes remain since I was imprecise in gluing it together. These accidental spaces seem to work well. I suppose I should think of them as simply colors in their own right. I definitely like the collage better than the drawing.

The chief difference between what I drew and what I got when rearranging the fragments was a better patterning of warm verses cool passages. All the colors that were in the drawing are merely rearranged into different positions. And, of course, the lines and shapes are changed as well.

I’m learning this stuff. I’ll soon have a collection of these abstract designs. I can then choose the ones I like best to become paintings.

Brainstorming

detail of a bouquet, cropped and flipped

New abstract art me is looking for ways to compose intriguing designs. What makes a good abstract design? The same features that make a strong composition in realism. Why knock yourself out when Mother Nature stands there willing to do the heavy lifting for you?

Thus have I been looking at some of my representational pictures, drawn from life, for design ideas to exploit in new contexts. The detail above comes from my pastel drawing of the flowers in the pickle jar.

Pickle Jar, 12.5 x 17 inches, Pastel

A cropped detail of the picture sits in a file on my computer where I see it often, and suddenly one morning I realized that the area around the chief flower could make a dynamic Diebenkornesque abstract image (Richard Diebenkorn is my favorite abstract artist). All I did was turn it around to make it less familiar.

I haven’t yet attempted making a drawing from my drawing. Do you think I should?

That would be the next step in removing it from its context. However, I would note that all the colors and shapes that make up my drawing were representations of some wonderful perceptions that Mother Nature created using eyesight, roses, colors, shadows, reflections of the glass — to say nothing of what she accomplishes in producing pigments for pastel sticks, those sticks whose marks are so mesmerizing. Reality deserves the first order of gratitude and praise.

Many Directions

random Instagram arrangement on a particular day

One of the fun things about internet platforms is the different relationship it gives you to your own art. None of these pictures above are squares — so that format comes from Instagram — but all of them look interesting when cropped into squares. And each has an interesting inter-relationship with the others, a factor that has emerged accidentally.

The framework provides clues for me into the architecture of my own design habits. I can see a bit of my love for putting shapes into locations, a habit that I recognize about myself. I like putting fruits on the still life table, and I like placing shapes into a composition. Do you find that posting your art on internet platforms provides a window into your thought processes? If so, and if you care to comment, please do so below. What mental motions direct your design decisions?

Sizing Up

recycling a canvas for the abstract design

The recent abstract collage has been much on my mind. I decided to make a go of putting the imagery onto a canvas. Luckily, I have a fragment of canvas from an ancient project. Its underlying colors are fairly close to those of the abstract drawing, so it seems a good candidate for doing a painted version. I mapped out a section that’s 36 x 36 inches. Just beginning work on it.

source drawing sitting on a table

Here’s the source drawing sitting on a table across the room. The left-hand side of the drawing is glued in place. The right-hand side is merely taped down. I have a hunch I’m going to be rearranging it eventually. But the collage in its present form provides the basis for this decorative painting. I’m eager to see how this will turn out. It’s lots of fun so far.

Half and Half

digitalized reworking of a crayon drawing

As I delve into the realm of design for design’s sake — also known as abstract art — I have been making greater use of my computer’s illustration program. I’m learning more about the program’s capabilities as I go. One area where I’m finding the program really most helpful is in making compositional drawings. At present I am (sort of) following a practice that I have noticed many abstract artists use: that of putting paint on top of paint until something desirable emerges. It’s a good enough procedure as far as it goes, but it’s not tenable with oil paint (unless you really, really like pentimenti) and with acrylic paint it’s totally doable but can get kind of expensive. However, I’m discovering that I can do whatever I want (more or less) using the computer program. I can keep fiddling with the image until the cows come home.

It’s like collage. Collage is my preferred tool for fiddling around with an image, but sometimes I’m reluctant to get glue all over my hands. Thus when I’m in a neat mood, I can turn to the computer instead. I cannot hold the end result in my hand, but it gives me a map to use to recreate the image on some tangible surface.

The drawing above is a computer edited version of a photo of an actual drawing. I’m astonished at how easily I can edit features and still preserve much of the look of the original materials.

First Go Round

section of a “concertina” type painting on paper

My first attempt at a concertina (accordion-style) picture was very spare. I had left it and intended to paint on it some more. Not sure that will happen now (other projects intervene), but it has a nice airiness. I feel as though I’m doing calligraphy in an unknown language.

Some of the background story of this picture appeared in earlier posts. These pictures are little caprices — fun little works on paper that may lead to other projects, but which — as they are — were nice entertainments — ways of spending time looking at colors and lines.

Simple Mountain

Mountains are ideas as well as being places. Even people who have never spent time in the mountains respond to the idea of mountain. The idea pared down to its most spare form, as a pyramidal form, or as a word in one’s language, has some pull. I can think of ideas that mountains can mean — shelter, permanence, grandeur, sublimity. However, what I want is to discover various emotions.

Colors can evoke emotion, too. Apart from associations with particular things, colors have their own evocations. Putting together the idea of mountain and certain color harmonies — I’m not sure where I’m going with these things — I just made a little drawing. I’m thinking a bit about beginnings, ways of drawing at the beginning, the broad forms from which more complex pictures are derived.