This painting was certainly not one that just 'flew off the brush'. By the time I finished it, or more truthfully, by the time I gave up, it started to feel like many software projects I've worked on - endless spec changes, rewrites, re-thinks. The painting started out as lush and thick, with lots of brushwork (That was Version 1.0) Then it started to get muddy and ugly. (V. 1.2 - 1.6). Then I went at it with a palette knife (V. 2.0) This looked good, lively and exciting. Then it started getting messier and messier (V. 2.1 - 2.4). So I scraped off everything but the sky and went back to a brush for Version 3.0 through 3.5. Than I just stopped. But it was an interesting morning and very much in line with an article I read this morning about the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis that the language you grow up speaking can influence the way you think, how you perceive things. People from the pormupuraaw Aboriginal community in Australia don't organize objects positionally with ideas like right or left; they position everything by cardinal directions. The salt might be east of the pepper, the wheelbarrow south of the large stone, the bowl of potatoes north northwest of the peas. (href="http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=how-language-shapes-thought">http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=how-language-shapes-thought) Well, I realized, as I was blundering along, that painting seems like that too. When I'm thinking of thin, hazy layers of paint I see things as soft and calm. When I pick up the palette knife, everything I look at seems livelier, edges seem to gain more importance, more weight. But, all in all, this was an interesting painting to work on, but not all that interesting to look at. Maybe I'll change my mind about it in a few days.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Painting, V. 3.4
This painting was certainly not one that just 'flew off the brush'. By the time I finished it, or more truthfully, by the time I gave up, it started to feel like many software projects I've worked on - endless spec changes, rewrites, re-thinks. The painting started out as lush and thick, with lots of brushwork (That was Version 1.0) Then it started to get muddy and ugly. (V. 1.2 - 1.6). Then I went at it with a palette knife (V. 2.0) This looked good, lively and exciting. Then it started getting messier and messier (V. 2.1 - 2.4). So I scraped off everything but the sky and went back to a brush for Version 3.0 through 3.5. Than I just stopped. But it was an interesting morning and very much in line with an article I read this morning about the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis that the language you grow up speaking can influence the way you think, how you perceive things. People from the pormupuraaw Aboriginal community in Australia don't organize objects positionally with ideas like right or left; they position everything by cardinal directions. The salt might be east of the pepper, the wheelbarrow south of the large stone, the bowl of potatoes north northwest of the peas. (href="http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=how-language-shapes-thought">http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=how-language-shapes-thought) Well, I realized, as I was blundering along, that painting seems like that too. When I'm thinking of thin, hazy layers of paint I see things as soft and calm. When I pick up the palette knife, everything I look at seems livelier, edges seem to gain more importance, more weight. But, all in all, this was an interesting painting to work on, but not all that interesting to look at. Maybe I'll change my mind about it in a few days.
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You might like Through the Language Glass: Why the World Looks Different in Other Languages by Guy Deutscher. I had it on my iPad when we were in France with you. I didn't come away with much that seemed new but it was interesting.
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