Gazing out the window

I was learning about mental illness, being bipolar in particular, and creativity.  It was interesting to note that some of the renowned artists were afflicted with varying degrees of mental illness.  When I read about song writers, singers, entertainers dying from drug overdose or getting into trouble for dabbling with illicit drugs, my first reaction is the "chicken and egg" debate.  Which one comes first.  Is there any possibility that drugs actually free a person's constraint and enhance creativity?  Perhaps altered perceptions lead us to fresh plots?  Or are drugs just a way of life because it is fashionable. The state I am residing in has legitimized and legalized psilocybin, for medical use of course; as they put it.  Can "visions" be a valuable adjunct to creativity too?  Where is the line between a freak and a genius.  I know, these are harsh terms. 

In a way I believe those of us who paint are inherently dissatisfied with reality.  I mean why else would we paint a version that is different from the true, real object.  And then there are those of us who do abstract work.  Are we under the influence of colors and forms and lines and patterns, and not necessarily an identifiable and addressable object?  How do elephant trunk and chimpanzee hands produce works of art?  How does our gestalt work?  Can drugs or our mental state make a difference?

Before I get myself into too much trouble, I do want to stress that I am not suggesting mental illness is the same as drug use.  The only overlap perhaps is that somehow brain chemicals are involved, be it endogenous or exogenous.  It is a delicate task, just like mixing and obtaining a perfect color or hue, we need to find an auspicious balance of norepi, dopamine and serotonin.  There are so many feedback loops involved when it concerns our body and mind and we are understanding just a little more each day, certainly more than the days of lobotomy and electric shock therapy.  When your car engine is not getting the correct inputs, it can surge, sputter or simply quit on you.  And just like the internal combustion engine, some aren't happy unless they are run at 9,000 rpm, and some hum along merrily at just 100.  We are all different.

The names like Robert Schumann and Vincent van Gogh often come up as artists who have endured mental health problems.  I am not a great fan of Schumann's music but because of what I've learned about the person I have decided to look at his works with less myopia.  Ultimately I am still not quite a fan, but I do find his Piano Quartet very endearing, specially the Andante movement.

If we don't know about the lives of these great artists, we might think that everything is roses with them.  One might even say "I would do anything to be just like them," if one is an aspiring artist.  Atlas, only if we knew.  Are we really willing to pay that price knowing what they had endured?

I've heard a saying which basically states "We might find a Shangri-la when we look across a window, but once we stand right next to the window, what we see is life itself, with all its musings." 

     隔窗而望是世間桃源   臨窗而立是歲月人生 

Not everything is as what it seems, and the grass is not necessarily greener on the other side.

I have found the inspiration for my next painting.  A person standing by a window, gazing out.

I have in mind a high contrast, black and white brush painting.  I believe a stark black and white painting allows for more freedom of participation from the audience and evokes more empathy.  I also want to position my window strategically such that the proportion or the geometry will be pleasing to look at and helps to frame the protagonist.  I want my actor to ponder and see what is outside the window.

Life!

Just like paring food with wine, I am pairing my painting with the third movement ( Andante ) from Schumann's Piano Quartet, my newfound love.  I just love those long phrasings and conversations between the instruments, even from the viola, I might add.  I love it more than his Piano Quintet; such intimacy.  Listening to that music helps to give me context when I am doing this painting.

I am going to set the tone of the painting by writing the words of the above mentioned saying on the walls in the painting.  These words would be graffiti-like if you will, crass and territorial, but they serve as a dogma for my thought process.  I have a mental image of these writings obscured by the darkness inside the room eventually, either completely or partially, but metaphorically at least.  I haven't decided yet.  Just as they defaced the wall, they are in turn consumed by darkness. They shall resurface when light returns.  It is a cycle, as in life.  I'll cross the bridge when I get there.  For now they shall help to keep the mood playful.  This could be a dark painting, literally and figuratively.  I don't want to be too depressed; but pensive, for sure.  

Next comes my protagonist.

Years ago I did a painting "Going Home" and in that painting I tried to describe backlit tablecloth and sunlight filtering through drinking glasses.  I am trying to study my "light" again with this painting. Also, I am going to be using a female figure as my person of interest.

I am making corrections to the contrast to make her features more vivid.  More enigmatic perhaps. 

I am also dolling up the graffiti a bit by giving the words a shadow.  In the end these words might not be visible anymore but for now it is fun to play with the effects.  As graffiti should.

I am now beginning the process of placing her in this dark room by painting in the wall that she is standing against.  In the process, the negative space of the bridge of her nose and lips are defined by the dark wall.  Her hair too is now nicely fashioned.

The wet ink causes rippling in the fibrous Xuan, and the undulating paper actually adds another dimension to the painting.  Almost like a starburst coming in from outside the window.  Is this a sign?  I just wished that I could keep that effect in place after the paper is dried.

If I stop now and crop my paper properly, I might have a painting on my hands already? High contrast, interesting layout, half white, half black, framing my pensive actor.  Lots of blank spaces for the audience to fill in.  

Should I stop?

Adding Human Interest

It has been two years since I finished my Shadows painting (Chronicle Of Shadows) and it is still pinned on the drywall in my studio.  I normally would either mount my paintings or just throw them in a pile as my etudes.  In that particular blog I used the term epilogue, thinking that I had written the last chapter on this work and I would close the book.

Little did I know.

After two years of casting occasional glances, ruminating on the vibes of the painting, I am convinced that the painting needs dressing up.  My playing with light values and casting shadows was fun, a lot of fun.  Now it feels almost anti-climatic.

Isn't it time to smoke a cigarette?  Wink! Wink!  Ah but I've severed my friendship with tobacco!

I need to add some human interest to this painting.  I am thinking of adding a jogger, a couple, someone, on the path.

I must confess that I had entertained this thought from the very beginning.  I have this one artist who eschews cliche and would chide me for being "redundant" as I recall.  Having people on the pathway is so mundane.  Is it?  How does one decide what is vapid and what is "just right"?

It must have been a broadcast on public educational channels that showed neuroscientists employing transcranial magnetic stimulation (TMS) to study how our brain deals with art.  Aside from a neuroaesthetic response, there seems to be a neuromotor response also.  Thus an image of a runner elicits a response from the area of the brain that controls our legs, though no physical movements from our own legs ensued.   We literally immerse ourselves in the picture.  Being a pharmacist with some biomedical knowledge, this topic intrigues me.  It would be interesting to study the different kinds of responses when we are subjected to various genres of subject matters.  Does ethnicity, culture and social economics have a say to which areas of the cortex is activated?  Why do some of my friends find a visit to the Grand Teton boring and others jubilating.  How is our preference of one thing over something else arrived at?  Does it have anything to do with dopamine, the neurotransmitter that is associated with pleasure; or oxytocin, the chemical that causes uterine muscle to contract amongst other things, and bonding.  So if we avoid something, is it due to an inhibition in these pathways?  I'm way off the subject now.

I suppose I should not be taking a reductionist point of view.  There are things that cannot be defined by a formula;  how and what we paint is one of them.  Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.  Now this is definitely cliche!

I decided to include a girl walking her dog in my Shadows painting.  Putting a person in the painting is what I call adding human interest, literally.   I now need to find out where's the best location to insert them.  I summoned the help of my clear vinyl sheet.

With that I have freedom in moving the subjects around to find an optimum size and location.  I started out by painting the girl and her dog on this clear sheet and placed it over my painting.

I added a different sized silhouette to gauge the fit.

Then I moved my clear sheet to a different location to decide

I finally decided to put them at the bend next to the edge of the path.  I particularly enjoyed how the dog's tail was serendipitously pointing towards the out swung hand of the girl.  A connection was made.  Whether the dog was leashed or not would remain an enigma.  To define that further would be trite.

In the end I assuaged my indecision whether to add the pedestrian by going off on a tangent with some logical excuses perhaps, but mostly by just painting it.  Perhaps the Shadows painting has lost its initial appeal and I can afford to take no prisoners the second time around?