Continuing the Continuation (Some More)

I'm in the habit of scouring Google Images looking for artwork .. sometimes paintings made in the past, and occasionally art being made today.

In fact, I stumble across works from the 19th century onward that are stunning in their beauty. I wish I could reproduce some of the modern-day masterpieces, but I don't want to violate anyone's copyright and get myself in a legal bind. Check out the piece entitled "Buttermere," the first painting that appears on this page. I LOVE this painting!! And it's quite inspiring to me and shows a direction I want to work toward.

Suffice to say, I've seen landscape paintings with breathtaking lighting and shadow effects that seem to give the land a spiritual sense and make it come alive. That's what I want in my own landscapes. Little by little, I'm getting there.

Funny -- sometimes I mean to create works with those qualities, and somehow it doesn't always happen. I keep returning to what I've done before ... the tried and true ... the comfortable and familiar. But I have slowly been breaking out of that mold, and I think I'm finally ready to portray the sheer drama of nature and what she has to show us ... and dish out to us, sometimes!

"Pretty" landscapes are still fun and, well, they're pretty. But drama can be pretty, too, and sometimes dramatic scenes can move us in ways mere prettiness can't.

Continuing the continuation. Here I come!

The Caretakers of Our Souls

The Caretakers of Our Souls      11" x 14"      acrylic on panel

I always like to think of churches as being the caretakers of our souls while we are here in this life. (I don't always agree with some of the other stuff that goes on, but in my ideal world, that's what churches do).

This is my latest classically-inspired painting. It's a scene of one of the old California missions: Mission San Antonio de Padua, north of Paso Robles in the little town/area of Jolon. Thankfully, it today sits in a rustic setting but is still an active parish. A man is strolling down the path, looking around, contemplating the world that is unseen and bigger than this one.

In my mind, this guy is me -- always looking for answers, lost in thought, trying to get past the clichés and simple-minded, feel-good platitudes that have overcome modern Christianity. He -- I -- are into the deeper things of existence, trying to reach into the infinite much as I did when I used to do transcendental mediation years ago. God is so, SO much more than the grandfatherly figure we laugh and talk with over coffee.

I made only a few changes to the actual scene -- the dirt footpath is really a paved road, covered in faded asphalt. I brought the trees on the right a bit forward from where they are in life.

The title came from an old Robert Stack movie, The Caretakers. He was the director of a mental hospital, and in talking with his staff, Robert described all of them as "the caretakers of their souls," the ones who were there for the patients, helping them as best they could to play the cards the patients have been dealt. That's an awesome role, all considered.

The churches, then, are/should be the caretakers of OUR souls. another awesome role to fill.


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End of Another Day

End of Another Day is my latest painting It features a view in Joshua Tree National Park in late afternoon. It's spring, but I de-emphasized the flowers and focused more on shapes and lighting.

End of Another Day                                 11" x 14"

This is the first piece I've done in a long time that doesn't include any wildlife -- not even a hawk in the sky. In my mind, there's a fine line between solitude and loneliness -- this time, I was leaning more toward the latter. Lots of space, everything is spread out, long shadows and only rock and plants -- no animals. I think a critter would have added something that people can relate to, and maybe then the viewer wouldn't feel quite so alone out there. (Of course, the critters are actually all around you, watching -- but you don't see them!)

I don't know if I succeeded -- if I didn't, well, not a huge issue. But if you look at this and sense that you may be the only form of animal life on the planet...then I pulled it off!

Enjoy.

The San Dimas Festival of Arts

I visited an art show this weekend -- one that I've participated in once in a while. It used to be the San Dimas Festival of Western Arts San Dimas, CA, but they decided to broaden the scope of the artwork they present, with the only twist: it has to have a California connection. Something about what's here today or in history, whether landscapes, buildings, people, activities et al.

It's always fun to visit this show. While I always see works that don't fit into the classical genre that I love, there is some nice work here. It was also an opportunity to visit friends I never see unless I visit this show, and I squeezed in a little networking, too.

I hope the show went well for everyone. As with many shows and artists in the continuing recession that just won't go away, the Festival's sales have been down. Such a shame -- it's a nice show that deserves to be around for a long time.

More Microbial Surrealism

I'm slowly but surely adding to my portfolio of surrealism paintings based on things I've seen under various types of microscopes. (Being a microbiologist has its benefits!)

A Quarter Past Tomorrow        20" x 24" / 51cm x 61cm

 A Quarter Past Tomorrow shows the sporulating structures and threadlike hyphae ("hy-phee") of one of the common green bread molds -- Aspergillus glaucus. My intent was not to make a scientific illustration, but to produce a work of fine art in the tradition of French surrealist Yves Tanguy.

Also, surrounding the mold are small golden-yellow spheres. These are the bacteria species, Staphylococcus aureus, the cause of the MRSA infections that becoming increasingly common. I considered making the Staph much bigger, but in the end, I decided to keep things approximately to scale -- and bacteria are much smaller than fungal growth.

The green balls that form the sprays on the ends of the vertical growths are reproductive spores. If you've ever watched mold growing, you'd see it starts out as a white, cottony mass, then it turns fuzzy and green. The spores are what gives mold its color.

Aspergillus species are normally benign unless your immune system is down and you inhale lots of spores (which are all around us). Then it can cause a pretty nasty infection in the lungs and even disseminate to other parts of the body.

That concludes today's microbiology lecture. Enjoy the painting. More to come, possibly with greater liberties taken when I present these mysteriously beautiful organisms.

Finally, I'll be creating a website soon just for the surreal works (with links back and forth to my western landscapes site). The new site isn't created yet, but the URL is www.SurrealMark.com. I'll let you know when it's up and if I'll be offering these paintings online, or if the site will be strictly a portfolio with information on where to acquire the art.


 

Dreams and Surrealism

I was always fascinated by the following painting by Salvador Dali:

Suburbs of a Paranoiac Critical Town Afternoon on the Outskirts of European History, Salvador Dali, 1936

Lots of fun stuff going on in this image!

But with all the neat things happening here, the image of the gal with a bunch of grapes fascinates me the most:

Funny -- she looks like people I see in my dreams. Not that she necessarily resembles them or that the dream peeps are offering grapes. But she has an other-worldly look, like she's talking to the viewer, except that we can't hear her. And why is she standing there, holding out a bunch of grapes? I suppose only Dali would know, and I don't know if he ever said; if he didn't, it's too late now.

I'm kinda thinking...I'd like to make some paintings that look like I've illustrated things out of my dreams. They almost always have people in them, although the faces are often obscured. Lots of space, lots of people, just going about their business.

Except in a dream that recurs every so often. I'll go outside, not realizing I'm wearing only my underpants (so far, I've never gone out naked), and nobody notices. Until I notice it, then everybody else notices it, too, and they turn and stare at me -- and by then, I've moved away from my door and can't just run back inside. And I'm all embarrassed...

I'm not into dream interpretation, so I don't know if it means anything or not. But I do get a kick out of the images the subconscious manufactures. They're almost, but not quite, realistic. But the UNreal parts are what I enjoy!

Sometimes, too, my dreams disturb me after I wake up. Nothing nightmarish about them, but I feel unsettled.

Don't know what it all means. But good surrealism reminds me of dream imagery (Dali seemed to be the best at it), and that's what I love the most about this genre!

Lights in the Darkness: Fluorescent Paints

Every so often, I get these ideas for things I could try that might broaden my appeal as an artist to more collectors. The latest thought: blacklight paintings.

Photo by http://www.visualbliss.co.uk/UVPaint.htm (Colorful, huh?)

I've actually messed around with blacklight paintings years ago, in the early 1970s, I'd say. In fact, my first "real" painting was an apocalyptic vision with a setting sun. The painting was done in traditional acrylic paints, but the sun was finished in fluorescent red -- I wanted the sun to "pop." (I think I still have this painting, stashed away in a box in the garage).

Then I did a series of paintings in which I mixed fluorescent blue with normal white paint. I used this for sky color -- in normal room lighting, the sky was light blue, but under a UV lamp, the sky glowed a dark blue, muted by the non-fluorescent white that was added to the ultraviolet-sensitive blue. Thus, the paintings were "2-in-1" -- daytime scenes under room lights, nighttime scenes by blacklight.

I was never interested in the psychedelic LSD look of blacklight posters of the late 60s/early 70s. I believe some serious art could be made with fluorescent paints. Except for one problem:

Fluorescent paint isn't archival. UV radiation breaks the chemical bonds that form the fluorescent minerals, resulting in products that don't light up under blacklight. I'm not sure the paints last very long even when exposed to daylight coming in through windows or artificial lights at night. I'd hate to invest a lot of time and effort into works that could fade or change color within just a few years.

So -- if I proceed with the bunch of fluorescent paints I ordered, I'll have to make sure the paintings I make are fast and easy to do and placed in inexpensive frames, so I won't need to ask a lot of money for the pieces. The artwork would be original "posters" that may not be around in 25 years (probably much less).

We'll see what I come up with!