Yet More Late Oct. Wet Things

Here are more wet things that I hate less.

Now I have a proper camera again to make proper photos of more proper art. Better. Still must take the time and mind to learn to crop on a Mac, though.

Speaking of Googling simple questions, Google is also apparently beta testing an open gallery tool for Google sites! This has been a need for a long time, and is super exciting. So when I get my requested invite for that ((bats eyelashes enticingly at Google)), I can break better photos into categories like trees, mountains, desert, road, and misc. And then recombobulate them online into a slightly more navigable form for no readily apparent reason.

More Late Oct. Wet Things

These things are not the things they were in my head. But now they exist outside my head. Hooray, existence.

Midnight Salvaged Sunflowers (formerly horrific shells). Probably a layer. 

Stairway to Heaven (in Arches). Probably a layer. 

Hiking the Hermit Trail in the Grand Canyon National Park. Maybe a fifth layer. I like it more now at least. Probably (shock) a layer. 

It's weird how little I can like these as products and how good I can feel painting at the same time. It's like a car aficionado keying a car and then going to hang out with his mechanic buddies and being like, "Yeah, I feel good, I worked on a car today. Something magic about working with your hands." There is, though. Something about making a thing that exists in time and space. 

Wet Stuff, Late October '14

I like to work on at least six paintings in a go because it takes time and energy to get out and put away the gunk. But it's typical for me to only feel I've found the soul of one painting in a work block. This is the one.

The others, I feel like there's a block of matter between the world and the painting and I have to chip it away with brushstrokes. And I have some ideas, but I have other work to do and this is more self-care in the sense that I can't do anything else if I don't do art.

 

Someday I will sign things again. This doesn't feel like an era of signing. I don't know what to sign. Everybody go away and leave me alone but first look at my art that is not mine... It's better with grain, you can't see the grain in photos, and so we're not really living in the era of mechanically reproducible art after all but I don't have the heart to hold it against Benjamin.

In which these things are driving me crazy

It's been over two weeks since I painted (busy with other kinds of work). That tends to make me a little crazy. So I took the morning to layer over things that were driving me crazy. And all these things are now still driving me crazy. But they're better. So there's that.

Wet Stuff, Early October '14

Well, that didn't work. The Duane Keiser model in which I exist as a new artist in Internet space without ties to my old markets and do no PR because the work carries itself. (Wait. That's not really the DK model. He networked. I largely refrained from going outside or talking to people. Details.)

That's ok. There is more wet stuff—here is the wet stuff—and as an artist, that's all I care about. Not even the production of the final product that I don't hate—not all, maybe any of these, are that—although that's nice. But the continual presence of wet paint, in one form another.