Mark Bradford in Fort Worth

Pieces of Paper attached to a huge free flowing canvas seen from the floor above hung on the wall at the Museum of Modern Art in Fort Worth. As you get closer to the huge canvas seen from various places within the museum, you'll notice that each small tattered piece of paper has been touched by the hands of Los Angeles artist Mark Bradford. The small pieces of colorful paper taken from merchant posters and advertisements found on the streets of Los Angeles appear much like the note written on paper left in your pocket, tossed in the washing machine...only to resurface in the lint filter of your dryer. His textural collage will capture the attention of any viewer.. While gazing at each piece of faded, torn and tattered paper... I imagined Bradford in his studio tearing the paper as well as the obvious and thoughtful approach he took in the placement of each piece. Within the time it took me to inch my way step by step walking slowly from left to right..it was as though I was talking to Mark Bradford. Of course he wasn't really there--but there was a dialog between us.

Mark Bradford is a must see if you are visiting the Museum of Modern Art in Fort Worth. He's one of my favorites as well as the Modern in Fort Worth is well worth the time and effort to get there. Spectacular in every way!!!!

Holding on or Letting Go

Visiting with a young artist this week in my studio brought to mind how artists often hold back in their artwork. Although well executed, his work showed obvious signs of "holding back." Why do we hold back? Why do we doubt our true nature and the explosive ideas that scream inside our heads at times--and then putting them off until we finish our current project? Why do we often refrain from saying no to the intrusive doubts that enter our thoughts. Is it our head conversing with our intuition or do you think we have been conditioned to hold back for fear of offending someone or even better...surprising our self...interesting why artists hold back in their work and don't go the whole nine yards. Could it be that we don't see it, yet others do...
Pay attention to the cravings to work bigger, stronger or bolder and the signs of misappropriated time and consideration we give away to others.

Life's Composition

When I think about composition in my artwork, I think about balance and rhythm created with color, shapes and lines and always encourage myself to look at the overall piece as opposed to one section by itself. The same applies to life if you think about it. It's hard to compartmentalize each section of our life. In fact, you have to look at various roles we play and look at the whole picture to see how well we are balanced. Few of us are fortunate enough to work exclusively on one thing at a time...but couldn't the act of changing hats constantly be the rhythm we create to obtain a balanced whole being--and each responsibility we take on is actually a shape, a line or a color blended together as a part of our composition. Those moments (or shapes) when you have to buy groceries, then you are rushing back to the studio because you have an entry deadline looming and you need to take images of your work or those social commitments that dictate what time we close our studios some days not to mention our needs when it comes to family and friends and oh yes--there are those times we must work in for exercise, sunshine and relaxation. It's become obvious to me that balance and rhythm with commitments, interests and basic needs are important to look at when thinking of our overall life. Is it just the art that is produced that's important? In the end, aren't we creating a legacy of memories as well as pieces of work to leave behind as an artist--and our biggest piece of artwork to produce may in fact be our self.

The Apron and the Artist

Did you ever have something you just couldn't throw away, like a pair of shoes that you couldn't wear any longer in public or a pair of jeans softened to perfection with age? My little blue apron is one of those things. I need to shop for a new one but you see the one I wear everyday in the studio has been around for so many years and well...there are memories we share with one another.

This apron started the journey with me almost 20 years ago. It has been to New York and Brooklyn, San Francisco, Houston, stayed for a bit in Atlanta and now finds a home on the shelf in my east Austin studio. Although it's covered with paint, crusted over with wax, the pockets are filled with scraps of paper, business cards, and other little things that live in the darkness I can't seem to part with it. I look at everyday and say, it's time--you gotta go!! I need to throw you away and replace you with a newer one, a younger one, a softer one but then I untie it at the end of the day, fold it and put it back on the shelf. I always know it will be there tomorrow...

To Share or Not to Share

Are artists really secretive towards one another or do they share everything with one another? That is a tough question to answer.

Recently someone used my name without permission when trying to develop a relationship with a gallery. I was surprised when I found out. A short time before that, another person asked if they could borrow a few contact names for their mailing list from me. I declined to share the information with them and wondered why they did not have their own. A week or so after that, I was teaching a class in my studio and one of the students copied my piece which hung on the wall above her work station. I was once again shocked and disappointed that someone would not use their own thoughts and inspiration.

Someone told me once that a smart person knows when to keep quiet and they also know when to speak. The experience of each artist imparts the knowledge needed to succeed. I often remain quiet when I should speak and often speak when I should remain quiet. Each day is a learning experience and to know when to share and when not to share becomes more obvious with each situation.

Moments of Doubt

Ever have those moments when you work and rework the art until you want to throw it away--walk away and never come back to it...then suddenly you see it differently or something happens to guide you back on course. This process within creating art resembles so much of my life...in fact, when I am ready to give up, turn around, and doubt that everything I am doing is actually sending me in the right direction...something happens to break the "moment of doubt." I never give up...just take a break...then pause...and say to myself "you'll be back."

Washed Out Ghosts of Real Things

"Quiet Art" is a term someone used the other day. Art produced in the solitude of our spaces, the stillness of our minds and in those rare moments when random thoughts are funneled away from the present and saved for examination at a later date. The shapes in my work are much like these random thoughts..they are held suspended in the quietness of the piece. Random things held in place with molten wax.