This is what is on my wall, and this is what I'm thinking about.
Yesterday {in my own mind} I considered the synergy between making a drawing or painting {or other art form, but that is what I know} and writing poetry. A friend sent me a poem and as I read and reread it, I was trying to connect to her line of thinking. What brought her from this word to this image I wondered? What metaphors are suggested by this word? How did she think of this next line? I felt a thread, fine and strong between this poem {poetry in general perhaps} and the drawing process. I find it amazing and interesting to look into the window of someone's thinking.The other day, as I was beginning a watercolor painting I noticed I was beginning with blue, my own deep shade, somewhere between prussian and phthalo. Why have I begun each of these pieces with blue I wonder? Why not begin with yellow ochre? And yet I know a pool of blue paint isn't just a blue shape, it is a metaphor, at times {for me} a metaphor for origin. And yet, if I were to lead you further on a path, through a line of thinking in the process of drawing, would it be interesting or leave you feeling disenchanted? Would it dissect the piece beyond mystery? I like for there to be questions in art, or wonderings. Not the kind where the piece means whatever the viewer wants it to, because that's too easy. Art making is intentional as is the meaning.
Even so, understanding or explaining may be tricky because I get so involved in the process, that the thoughts become nondescript, like a language with no words. I have always thought that making art is my first language. Only when I am finished can I step away and {try to} gauge in terms what is taking place. Perhaps you can relate?