Immersed in Pure Color, Lost in No Words

Painting Trees and More Trees

When I tire of words I paint. And trees are a favorite subject. What I love about painting is that it’s all play. It’s experimenting with color, texture, medium, marks. It doesn’t have to mean anything. It doesn’t have to please anyone but me. I take joy from it, and that’s all I ask.

These new paintings are part of my forest series. The first two were inspired by paintings from artists I admire, using watercolor and oil pastel on hot pressed paper.

Both very dense, but the style quite distinct. The one above has a lighter, feathery feel. I felt quite light and feathery painting it.  It was done quickly. The one below has a heavier, slicker feel.

It took more time. It feels more surreal, more fauvist in flavor, an orgy of color. I’m drawn toward the fauvists, the unruly works of Derain and Matisse. I was painting more by feel than thought.

The one above is a favorite. It’s all my own, from my own imagination, a peaceful, secluded pool I can slip into whenever I want.

Eventually I started leaning toward the abstract with water-color and oil pastel, letting them show me how well they play together. I’d been inspired by some of Rick Steven’s paintings, his intense close-ups of trees and barks. I love the colors, the texture, the shapes.

The painting above was my initial attempt. At first it seemed too vertical, too placid, so I began building up the horizontal elements, the “foliage,” and finally came to the place where it felt “done.”

Next I wanted something shapely and sensuous. At first it too seemed too vertical with no clear focus. So I began adding areas of “lichen” at the lower right and upper left. Something to attract the eye and allow it to move up or down the trunk. At some point it too seemed “complete.” This one may be my favorite of the three. I like the richness of the colors, the texture.

I’m not sure where this last one came from. I wanted to add a human element, something partially hidden, peeking out, more figurative than figure. The blue sprite appeared. But further down the tree trunk another face emerged, unbidden, and the whole painting took on a darker feel. I wasn’t sure I liked this one at first. But it’s growing on me.

As an art lover, I’m teaching myself to see as an artist might, to abstract from nature a sense of its feel or flavor. But mostly I do this just to immerse myself in pure color and to get lost in “no words.”

When I weary of writing. My first love.