Womanifesto

One look around my home and you will see I am clearly illustrating my own little microcosm of cultural practice and aesthetic. On one wall hangs an almost-psychedelic, passionately painted message that was complete within a few hours. (Is it any wonder the guy in the middle is the one looking up?) A little farther down, on the same wall hangs a painting that is at once primordial and boundless, yet simultaneously grounded by the undeniable solidity and surety of gold---a painting which is taking weeks and is painstaking to complete. Over the couch in front of both paintings lies the unframed canvas that my friends and I painted last weekend.

I am aware these three paintings do not look like they were painted by the same artist (granted I had lots of inspired help on that last canvas---still my brush touched it). Maybe where my natural brush stroke was invoked---funny, I now notice it always occurs when dipped in the color blue---but even this commonality does not always come through. So what really links my canvases? Not the medium. Not the technique. Certainly not the subject. The only commonality I can always identify is my own process.

My process is directly linked to whatever is going on within me that needs expression. Because my beliefs, thoughts and feelings oscillate between the poles of modern and postmodernism, my artwork naturally follows suit. One painting might be all modern. Another might be all postmodern. My favorite paintings illustrate both poles (or certain points in between) on one canvas. The latter is occurring with increasing frequency.

Why am I so certain these are my favorite pieces? They provide visual confirmation of my process---that it is possible to "sit" within the truth of what at first glance appears to be opposing forces. These forces are different, for sure, AND both obviously exist.

Metamodernism provides a way for my generation to fully exist---no need to commit intellectual or emotional suicide. The disconnection observed in Modernism continues to show me all I need to confirm I will not be following in the Modernist footsteps. (I really tried. I could not do it. Sometimes I still think it would be easier to just shut-up and drink the cool-aid.) The total apathy of the Postmodernists (oh social media!) daily reminds me I would never want to fall into the nihilistic trap of no-truth. What is left for a girl to do but oscillate? And this is why oscillation feels completely natural to me. "Natural" does not always mean comfortable. When you oscillate some days truly are better than others.

If my paintings provide relief, what else acts as a balm to the wear and tear of moving between rigidity and apathy? Finding and encountering others (of all generations---this is important for me to add here---as I have learned oscillation can happen regardless of age) who have honorably earned and proudly display the badge of heuristic heroism*. With these people, conversation rarely turns to monologue. With these people one rarely experiences boredom. With these people one experiences openness and connection in deep places. These people inspire others to reach the ultimate heights of authenticity via wanderlust and fearless exploration.
 
So, I will continue to paint whatever I need to express, knowing the only commonality between canvases might be my process. I will continue to hope seeing my little microcosm of paintings in context (as a group) reminds viewers of the unlimited possibilities inherent within oscillation. There really is a way.

"The attitudes expressed...are what we on this blog have come to call metamodernism. It is an attitude that oscillates between a modern enthusiasm and sincerity and a postmodern irony; between grand narratives and personal life stories; between science and mysticism; between critical distance and affect; and between concepts and craftwo/manship. 

It is an attitude that says, as Jerry Saltz, of all people, once put it: 

“I know that the art I’m creating may seem silly, even stupid, or that it might have been done before, but that doesn’t mean this isn’t serious.” 

It is an attitude also that says, following the legacy of that increasingly important artist Bas Jan Ader, “I know I will fail, but that is the point: to try in spite of”."  

(Quote taken from THIS article.)

*I am fully aware the alliteration here might scare off any DSM-devoted therapist. (wink)