During Boulder City Art in the Park this weekend, I jotted down things people said as they looked at my paintings. My painting happens mostly alone, and I wanted to remember what people noticed when they encountered the work for the first time.
In Jeff, Seated, one person noticed the hands coming forward and described a feeling of “providing.” Hearing someone connect them to an act of giving made me look at the painting differently.
Jeff, Seated
This is the second time I’ve shown Terry, Listening, and two people told me it gave them chills. Both recognized the expression I’d captured, which led to conversations about their own aging parents. We talked about listening, caring, and watching someone we love become more vulnerable.
A painting that began with one person opened into stories about others.
Terry, Listening
People commented on the eyes in my portraits and the way I dragged paint across the surface.
Someone else said, “There are lots of feelings in here. Are you OK?” That one made me laugh. It also stayed in my notes.
One woman was walking past and stopped because the work looked familiar. She’d seen two of my paintings at City Lights Art Gallery and recognized my style before she knew they were mine. That surprised me. I tend to see each painting’s problems and decisions; she could see a thread connecting them.
Hooded (left)
Terry, Searching (fragment, middle)
Stillness (fragment, right)
After spending so much time with a painting, I can get caught up in where I struggled and what still bothers me. The Audition spent quite a while tucked away in my studio, behind other paintings. Whenever I looked at it, I kept seeing the things I’d wrestled with.
This weekend, I took a chance and showed it. Several people were drawn to it. Hearing what caught their attention helped me see more than the parts I’d struggled with.
The Audition
Another visitor spoke about “the moments in between, and what you notice.” That came close to what draws me to paint: someone listening, waiting, thinking, or briefly absorbed in something of their own. I’m often in my own head, turning things over, and I think I recognize something of myself in those moments when a person seems turned inward.
I went into the weekend knowing these paintings intimately, but people brought experiences and observations that gave me something new to consider. I’m glad I wrote those conversations down. They’re coming back to the studio with me.
