I was making a mess with this little sketch last night...it was a good kind of frustration. I didn't like it much until I took the tape off and took the photo. I was reminded this morning, that not all art (or writing) comes easily, even a little sketch can be fickle. Then I remember how this painting never gave me a bit of trouble…there’s a story behind The Blue Square Window.
I painted this after being at a celebration of life for one of my former professors, Jim, who had passed away. We were gathered at the art gallery where I had been exhibiting for a few years (it has since closed.) People were telling stories about him, and one of my other former professors, Mike, told a funny story about him and another former professor of mine, Jerome, having a discussion about the painting Jim had on his easel. It was a blue square (he was a minimalist). Jerome was pondering its meaning (he was a narrative painter) and pontificating about it being a window to something, somewhere... blah, blah, blah... (Jerome loved to hear himself talk.) Jim looked at Jerome and said, “It’s just a fucking blue square window!” Thus inspired, I went home and made my own fucking blue square window...
For a little context, Jim gave me a C in figure drawing one semester. The previous semester, another professor gave me an A, and was very encouraging in my exploration of the sketches I had made in class and working them toward a finished work. So receiving a C in something I had excelled in previously mentally side-swiped me. Jim was mad at me because I would “finish” my figure studies after I made them, so when I brought my work in for our final talk with him about the semester’s work, he wasn’t pleased. I wasn’t supposed to create finished drawings from my sketches. I guess I wasn’t following directions again. (I’ve been guilty of that quite often in my life.) I was always making my own path, you see...connecting the dots to the sketch I made last night. I had to pick my path to finish the sketch. My path has always been its own thing, following my bliss wherever it takes me.
I would see Jim very often at the gallery, in both of its configurations of ownership and management over the years, and he would attend the openings at the museum where I worked. He remembered me, but he didn’t remember giving me a C in figure drawing, which is fine; I never held it against him. I chalked it up to me being me, I was always doing something out of bounds, losing the syllabus, not paying attention, marching to my different drummer, you know...getting people irritated with me because I would be oblivious of what I did to piss them off. I would be doing my thing, and I got used to it, expected it.
My path…
I do love this painting, I have it hanging in my dining room…
Little Schmoo (who is now only 2, and not so little anymore), he of the bonus toe beans and magnificent swoopy whiskers, is posing next to the painting. His little tippy head pose is adorable (he does this head tipping all the time, too cute.)
Speaking of cute…
My wee donkey girl and her ears in full bloom! She is loving this hot weather, and is the happiest wee donkey.
I hope everyone is well. Be extra good to yourselves, follow your bliss, and find joy. Remember to be kind to others, okay? You never know what someone is going through—and we’re all going through a lot these days.
Thank you for visiting From My Acre of the World. I’m happy to share my creative life journey as I connect the dots between life, art, images, the written word, and my creative process. I want to say “Hello” to all my subscribers, followers, and new visitors. I want to thank my subscribers, both paid and free; I truly appreciate your ongoing support, and it means a great deal to me to have you here. My content is always free because I want to reach people and have my work accessible (you can pay if you want to, but there’s no pressure). I always enjoy hearing from you; your comments are pretty special.
As always, so worth the read, Laura. Greetings to Elizabeth and Schmoo (those whiskers are amazing!). And the blue window is awesomely interesting in texture and shades of color. You are so right; go with the flow and create as you ride the current . . .
Laura, we must be cut from the same cloth dancing to syncopated drums.
Yay us! I consider it a strength.