Showing posts with label Expressionist Abstraction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Expressionist Abstraction. Show all posts
Thursday, June 25, 2015
Sunday, October 27, 2013
Marks, Water and Mystery
LIQUID LADDER- Watercolour on paper by Hannah Reim-Artist
There are times that inspiration for a painting is buried deeply in the unconscious creative mind. I look at the sheet of paper before me. Nothing. I wait. And wait.
There are times that inspiration for a painting is buried deeply in the unconscious creative mind. I look at the sheet of paper before me. Nothing. I wait. And wait.
Then I release the images floating around and decide to free the beast. My hands have a life of their own and I throw down. Literally it is a battle royale between the mind and the spirit. And voila. The brush moves itself in the most mysterious directions without any conscious input. A construct of pure movement and a tango between the hands and the brush. And the paper. And the paint. And water flowing, flying, splashing the walls. You are jealous, right?
My ability to zone out intellectually is my gift to myself. And sometimes to you.
The resulting image is a mystery, a collision. And ultimately, the exact feeling I was looking for all along.
Monday, February 25, 2013
When "Untitled" is Appropriate
When I first set out to paint a sizable expressionist abstract piece, I had planned to work instinctively. Most artists know that there should be a modicum of a vision. Otherwise a primate could paint (yes, I know they do). As I choose my palette, I did make some hard decisions. It should have some depth. It should have some lights, some very lights. And then, it should be textured because that's who I am. Textured. Yes, rough parts, soft parts, the dark side, and the exquisite bright. My life in paint mirrors reality.
Off I go, brushes in hand, fabric, water, paint, an apple beside me, because I think I will eat something at some point. But I never do. Hours go by, I am so covered in medium to make the papers and the fabric adhere to the canvas. My back is hurting as usual. But I never stop to breathe. And once done, I stand back and glow with pride because I covered a large canvas and it is awesome. For me, anyway. When I show it to my daughter's boyfriend, he asks, "what inspired you?". And the question makes me laugh. (Artists will get this).
So the only question left is the name of the piece. I realize that only the viewer can make that decision. I have made too many decisions creating it. Now it is your call. I call it "Untitled".
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