An Invitation

Inverse Color Tones

Imagined Present

B/W Translation

A friend recently gave me some constructive criticism about my latest painting. I thoroughly enjoyed the conversation and have been thinking about it since.  Criticism is good because it makes you think, articulate and consider intention/purpose.  (If all of my friends had survived art school criticism I would invite more of these conversations---I'm a little afraid of people who don't really know how to do this, mostly because I'm afraid of my own reaction).

Anyhow, my friend is a graphic designer. When he looks at my actual painting he sees technical error. He said that in actuality, the trees one is standing closest to would be lighter than the trees in the distance. He thought it might look better if the path between the trees were going to a vanishing point, and everything grew lighter coming from it. He thought the painting was missing its grounding. Finally he said, all artwork should still make sense when reduced to a black and white scale: Realism. He then added something like, Well, there is no wrong way to paint what you want to paint.

I played with the color in the photographs of the painting to consider more of what he was talking about. The inverse color photo really does look more real than my painting. It has more depth. To me, the inverse or closer to reality version says more about a place that is "out there" than the place that already includes/envelops the viewer. The black and white translation really does look less like a clearing of trees and more like shapes of dark and light and medium shades. If I pretend I am looking at something I've never seen before, it looks totally abstract. It even gives me a headache.

This painting is from my imagination, so it was never meant to portray reality. The crazy thing that I didn't realize until my friend pointed it out, is that I imagine things incorrectly. That's kind of a weird thing to realize. It has never felt foreign to me. I am naturally incorrect. This means I am often not aware I am breaking rules. (As my friend's criticism suggests, clearly, it would take more effort for me to paint it correctly than it did for me to just paint it how I know it to be.)

I literally imagine the saturation of color is greater, the closer I am to it. The things in my safe place are richest when I am near (imagine something like the lights under Michael's feet). The sky is always shades of my favorite color of blue and everything mixes with a warm, gold, shimmering light. I am IN the grove of trees, surrounded by the soft whistling of pine needles and rustling of leaves. I look out and I am choosing to stay in safety. There is no vanishing point because this painting is not about where I came from or where I am going to. It is about the present. I simply walked down a hill to get here, and a spontaneous circle of trees opens up to me.

I am now aware of the fact that I am asking a lot of the viewer with this painting. You can't beak the rules if you don't know them to begin with. I have proven I can even break this rule, though this painting is more meaningful now that I am aware. My friend's criticism served its purpose. Thanks, Q.

The entire point of the painting is to be immersed in the safety of my own imagination, and to invite you, the viewer, to encounter my reality and simply join me. If you are an engineer, a graphic designer or a "real" artist, this might take considerable effort. Thanks for your consideration. I really do love it when you can join me.