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Portraits of the Artist

I’m working on a commission, presently. A long-time friend who appreciates my work recently commissioned me to do a self-portrait. An interesting commission, and I undertook it enthusiastically, without giving the matter any hesitation at all – now I’m mired in it. lol Self-reflection is deep on a thing like this, but it’s not as if it is the first time I’ve done a self-portrait. They’ve changed over the years.

“Rage” acrylic on paper, 1985, my first self-portrait, at age 22. 12″ x 16″

In the 80’s and early 90’s, when I was still “finding my artistic voice” (still a work in progress, as it turns out), and painting in both watercolor and acrylic, I found emotional safety in abstraction for self-portraiture.

“Portrait of the Artist’s Tears”, 1987, acrylic on paper, 5″ x 7″

I didn’t “stay in that place” indefinitely, things sometimes felt better, sometimes they felt worse. It was a complicated journey, artistically, and I often found that painting was a way of saying what I did not have words for at that time in my life.

“The Night Before Christmas”, 1990, acrylic on paper 8″ x 10″

Some of it I still lack words for, and I’m happy to be in a very different place in life now. My feelings about these works, and the experiences they represent, remain very complicated.

“Marriage” 1991, watercolor on paper, 8″ x 10″

When my first marriage ended, in 1995, I fought hard and went through much to keep a small painting that remains one of my very fondest pieces, and it hangs in my home even now. I’ve never managed to take a decent photograph of it, and I guess I’m okay with that.

“Joy” 1994, watercolor on paper 4″ x 6″

By 2000 I was painting exclusively in acrylic, and doing a lot of 3D mixed-media work, abstractions and pieces that used a lot of glow, glitter, ceramic adornments, and often working quite large. There were certainly pieces I could call self-portraits in the years between 1995 and 2014, when this next piece was painted, but they weren’t necessarily intended that way. (I think art as a form of self-expression of necessity says something about the artist, one way or another.)

“The Price We Pay” 2014, acrylic on canvas with glow, glass, and ceramic details, 11″ x 14″ (the inclusion of the artist’s reflection intentional)

The last self-portrait I started on is still “work in progress”, and I don’t know that I’ll ever finish it. I’ve moved on from that moment. I don’t feel the way I did then, and I’m not sure I can finish it in an honest way because I have changed.

“Chained” acrylic on canvas with glow, ceramic, and chain, 18″ x 24″

So, here I am, now. This person, this woman, this artist, reflecting on self, and preparing to do one sort of self-portrait I’ve never done before; a work on commission for someone else. It’s an interesting project, and it is prompting me to reflect on details of the answer to a question in life that is simultaneously quite deep, and also quite mundane. Possibly one of the least useful questions one can ask oneself; because we already know the answer, however reluctantly we choose to acknowledge it. Self-reflection has value – but does it have hue? I chuckle to myself as I consider how best to portray the woman I see in the mirror every day.

There and Back

Inspiration is powerful stuff, but plans don’t always lead to the hoped for outcome, and that was certainly true of my recent time spent scouting beautiful places to do a bit of plein air painting. It rained. It rained like all the rain ever was going to have to fall on those days I was out on the trails and exploring new locations. I can’t be mad; I got some great hiking miles in, and took some useful pictures for later work – and I did find some great spots to paint on some future, less rainy, days.

Like here.
Or here.
Maybe here?
How about here?

What I mean to say is that it was time well-spent on new trails, seeing beautiful places, and being inspired, and it met my needs pretty well, in spite of not actually doing much painting. I managed two new pieces, one plein air, one in the warmth and comfort of home. More on those another time.

Funny thing, I found myself equally inspired in my own wee garden, and spent some of my time there, happily working in the Spring soil, and there’s probably a lesson there.