It’s been way too long since I’ve done any drawing. I did do a sketch this summer and have been to my neighborhood sketching group here and there, when it’s been warm enough to meet outside. But none of that really counts.
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Tonight the organizers of the show at the A. P. E. Gallery, Observing Ourselves: 50 Women’s Self-Portraits, had an artists’ talk. Six artists were on the panel and many others who contributed to the show, including me, were in the audience. The six panelists, who included the organizers, Jane Lund and Rachel Folsom, talked about how their portraits came about. Then the question was asked of the audience about why the show was so popular. Lisa Thompson, who runs A. P. E., said the show was immensely popular, with people revistiting it, people who knew people with pieces in the show, but also many who just walked in off the street. Of course, when you have dozens of artists, you have all the people associated with them coming to see the show. But that doesn’t quite explain it. Click title to continue reading…..
So the portrait is done and delivered to the gallery. I find that I have a very different feeling about it than I would if it were a still-life, or a portrait of somebody else, or just about other subject matter. Part of that stems, I think, from it feeling rather strange to portray myself. I have never taken or even thought about taking a “selfie”. It’s just not something that ever comes to mind. I guess it feels a bit narcissistic and that feeling flows into how I feel about this self-portrait, just a bit odd.
In some ways how I feel about it is similar to that feeling one has sometimes after a conversation, of wanting to say, “That’s not quite what I meant,” or “I’m not finished – I have more to say.” I haven’t done a self-portrait before, so I don’t know if everyone feels that way.
We act as though comfort and luxury were the chief requirements of life. All that we need to make us happy is something to be enthusiastic about.
I have been crazy nervous about this self-portrait. Part of it is just the fact that it feels so exposing to do a self-portrait Certainly I’ve never thought to myself that I’d be doing a one. I can’t decide if I’m glad Jane asked me to do one or not. The jury’s still out – I see-saw from liking it to being really uncomfortable with it.
But I’m loving working on it as if it’s my actual job. How jealous I am of those who can do this full-time. I remember watching the documentary about Andy Goldsworthy, where he would kiss his wife goodbye in their kitchen and head out with his bag to go lie down in the driveway, let it rain all around his silhouette, then photograph the dry spot where his body had been. I thought then, “I want his job!” Well, maybe not the lying down in the drive part. But I am calmer and generally so much happier after after a day of drawing than a day of work or even just a day of “leisure”.
I have been invited to take part in a show organized by Jane Lund and Rachel Fulsom, Self-Portraits by 50 Women Artists at the A.P.E. Gallery in Northampton, from November 3 to December 3.
My first reaction to being invited was, of course, that it is a great honor, especially when I look at my fellow exhibitors, and also a great responsibility. And then very quickly, not panic, that’s too strong a word, but the weight of having to come up with a way to present myself that felt true to who I feel that I am, not gimmicky (I hate what I think of as “gimmick art”), and allowed me to use pastel in the way that I love, with intense color, and so that, up close, the pastel application is beautiful on its own, as if each inch of the picture is a tiny abstract painting. All-in-all, a formidable task.
So this little toy gun, and I do mean little, is marked “REPLICA”. Phew! I thought this gun, which is less than three inches tall, might be the real thing. (No, not really.)
It does beg the question of why someone would want a really tiny replica. Something to fit well in the hands of really tiny children? Something convenient to carry to scare off those accosting you, hoping they won’t notice it’s too tiny to hurt anything larger than a gnat? OK, I’m out of guesses.
Today I gave up the charcoal pencils and two pastel pencils I was using, trying to channel Jim Dine, for my Sennelier and Girault pastels, still in just a few colors, yellows, golds, blood red, and black/gray/white. I’ve never been able to limit my palette before. I’m not sure I always want to do that, but I like it in this picture. I think it’s the Dine influence, still a bit there, letting me do that.
Pastel is definitely my medium. I just love its richness, despite the nuisance of the mess, it often feeling like I’m drawing with a broomstick, the difficulty of framing and preserving them, etc. The richness and texture and depth of color trumps all that. In the background of this picture it is thick enough, even on this Strathmore pastel paper – no grit – to let me smoosh it around, my absolute favorite place to find myself with pastels. People often can’t figure out why I use Senneliers, because they’re so soft, but they do that smooshing thing so nicely. I love them.