Friday, December 27, 2013

Marriage of Genious

A personal favorite definition of art is combining something imaginary into sensuous forms.  GWF Hegel said it, I think...
The definition can be taken in two ways.  One way- all art comes from the maker's genius, even if the using an in-life subject to work with.  In the end of all the measuring, lighting, pencil sharpening, and laying out the geometry formulas onto the support, the mind of the artist has the final say if the marks (that makes the subject), good.  The other interpretation is described in simplistic wholesomeness from one of Proko's videos (go to the 11:26 mark).

Friday, December 13, 2013

From the sketchbook

I like my sketches, maybe even more so than my completed works.  I'm not running solo with this thought, plenty of artists like their sketches more so.  Some artists like sketches so much, their style looks as though they're from sketchbooks- freaking, cool, sketchbooks.  Sketches mimic Impressionism, the French style of loose strokes and liberated colors movements all over the support.  And like the the French painters of... no so yore... sketches can mimic the wild aesthetics of nature.  Nature is nostalgic, and viewers are drawn to whatever uncovers timeless, happy, memories.  But here's another idea: A sketch, being an incomplete image, provides the viewer just enough information to let their brains finish the subject themselves.  Enjoy some of my fave sketches from this year, and lets the brain chemicals flourish.

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Parson's Wisdom

Most (if not all) art students of Brigham Young University -Idaho, and former Ricks College, have a story about Leon Parson.  All of the stories revolve around two plot devices: "Parson is an incredible artist, and we can only hope to be minutely as good as he is now." or "Parson?  Yeah, that guy made my room mate cry."
 A memorable reputation, indeed.
 My Parson story is more of the latter, sans eye lube.  Parson's style is near-hyper realism -precise brush strokes and extreme rendering.  No matter how much I worked on a project, the craftsmanship of my rendering lacked.  In colorful words, my rendering looked like chicken scratches, while everyone else have more crisp lines.  Summarizing the drama lama: I felt like a clueless hack of an artist.  One frustrated class time, I talked to Parson on the side -explained to him my dissatisfaction with the homework assignments.  He took one look at my work at hand, then said to me. "There's really nothing wrong with your work.  You just have different intelligence -that's all really." Holy... crap!  What an epiphany.  I know, deep down in my guts, I was good at art, or at least have the potential to be great.  It was simply understanding how my brain worked.  My brain and muscles don't get the happy chemicals from clean lines, but when I see the wispy lines of Yoshitaka Amano, my very soul surrenders to grace.  By understanding how I see and think, my art skills improved.  I'm sure I'm not the first artists to come upon this revelation, and I hope I'm not the last.  And more so, I hope, someday, I can be minutely as good as Parson now.
Just with more chicken scratches.

Tuesday, November 19, 2013


Idaho during the summertime (there is no such thing as spring, we call springtime Second Winter) is like central California, but greener.  The wide, green landscapes are perfect for plein air paintings.  My plein air work was supervised by Gerald Griffin -a man who's a real pain in the bud, but quick to love.  He philosophy is quote, "Art of coloring and art of painting are two different things.  In art of coloring you make shape of horse, bush, and apple, and you just fill in the shapes.  In art of painting you move the colors around; they don't stay in one shape."  Plein air is a fun, physically sacrificing, and emotionally and skillfully gratifying practice.  Sample in my finer stuff!

Monday, November 11, 2013

Ebony and Ivory together in perfect harmony; side by side on my piano kee'board!