Recently I have had an abrupt change in my art making. Some of my collectors and social media followers may be scratching their heads over my latest output of work, and I don’t blame them. Known primarily as a portrait artist, I have now begun diving into biomorphic abstraction. And it’s been quite an experience.
How did this come about? You, too, might be scratching your head after reading this. I am scratching my own. I know when and where and who, but now I’m trying to figure out how and why this happened. If you have a few minutes and are curious about this, I invite you to read this rather long and crazy description of how I got from portraits to abstracts.
I hope this makes some kind of sense to you.
In early February, my husband and I traveled to Charleston, South Carolina to attend a concert by one of our favorite singers, Geoff Tate, former lead singer for prog metal band Queensrÿche.
Up until that trip, I had been struggling with a need to make art that truly resonated with where I found myself mentally/spiritually/emotionally now that I’ve been retired for nearly a year. Trying to find new footing as an artist, wanting to go into another realm, I found that portraiture no longer held the awe for me that it once did. I was honestly tired of being a “photocopier,” a term I jokingly gave myself a few years ago for the work that I was producing. It wasn’t very creative work, just painting faces, and due to the increasingly uncreative aspect of this I was suffering deeply and craving a breakthrough.
Little did I know I was about to be catapulted into another galaxy.
We got to the venue and found our seats at the Charleston Music Hall. After two opening acts, the main attraction appeared and for nearly two hours I stood there spellbound by this man whose energy filled the hall with pure electricity. Though he was clad head to toe in black, I was mesmerized by the wild cacophony of blues and greens that met me through the music.
Now, to those who do not know, I have synesthesia. It’s a strange brain condition where my senses combine and mix together. My particular brand of synesthesia concerns numbers, colors, music, and temperature. I see colors in numbers, numbers in colors, colors and temperatures in music, and images in music. Hard to describe, but that’s the gist of it.
Anyway, while watching Tate perform I felt something unlock inside me. It was palpable, almost painful, yet in a euphoric kind of way. A symphony of color and shape filled my being. Tate’s voice, a deep and cosmic blue, swam with curved shapes in hues from deep blue to acid green to turquoise. The feeling was electric and hot. Velvety, even. It was a very 4 and 5 kind of experience (4 being green and 5 being blue to my synesthetic mind).
The best way to describe being in Tate’s presence that night was like walking through a psychedelic paisley garden. If that even makes sense.
I am no newbie to Tate’s music, so it wasn’t like I’d never heard it before. These sensations just clicked in gear when I stood before him in person, consumed by the sound of his voice and the power of the music. So damn weird. I have been to countless concerts in my nearly 60 years on Earth and this was the only time something of this magnitude has ever happened to me.
Needless to say, the sensations were so overwhelming that I could not turn off my mind that night. I ended up lying in bed awake till the wee hours before dawn, feeling a creative urge stirring in the darkness.
Once home, I sat in my studio while my hubby, a bass player and singer himself, went into his studio and put on some Queensrÿche. I placed a brand-new 36×48 canvas on my easel and just looked at it while sitting in my chair. I can’t remember how long I sat there, but when I heard the song “Get a Life” come on in the other room, something made me bolt out of my chair, rip the plastic off the canvas, grab an oil stick, and start making marks.
I had no idea what the hell I was doing. It was frenetic, this mark making, and it was flowing along with the song.
When I had finished, I stood back and was amazed at the image before me. It felt as if I’d “come home” as an artist. I had come home to the art I was born to make. It only took a couple days to flesh out and finish the painting. I christened it Nocturne for Unspoken Things, a fitting title for the first piece in Night Seed, the name I have given my new series.
Since then I’ve been making these biomorphic abstracts like a fiend.
If you made it this far, thank you so much for reading. If you are wondering if I’m done with portraits, I can assure you I haven’t abandoned them. I am currently working my way into a new visual language that I can express through my experience of music, and this sidetracked journey is feeding my soul in ways I never knew possible. I am swimming in creativity now and it is life changing.
If only I could thank Geoff Tate for whatever he did to ignite this in my crazy mixed-up brain.
But then again, how would I do that without looking like a complete space cadet? Ha ha ha!
(Image shown below: Nocturne for Unspoken Things. This is the piece I made once we got back home from Charleston. You can thank Queensrÿche’s song “Get a Life” for this one. Gamblin oils on 24×36 canvas.)
