"Why do you paint abstractly?", the elderly man asked.

One thread that ran through the whole month of my recent trip to Scotland was related to art. Of course that would be the case. Being an artist is a way of living, of seeing, of being in the world. When I told people I met on the trip that I was an artist, they naturally asked about my work. It was a good exercise in trying to describe my non-objective work.

One lovely elderly man named Jock engaged me in a lively conversation. When I mentioned to him that I am an abstract painter, he told me he liked high realism. That comment set the stage for an interesting conversation. He was very curious about why I wanted to paint abstractly. He asked intelligent questions and gave me the gift of focusing intently on our conversation. I told him that my work is about light, that I'm interested in painting the essence of light. I described my earlier representational work-landscapes, still life and vessels. My abstract work had come from a solid background in drawing, composition, and the elements of design. My friend wanted to know how he could understand an abstract painting. I could only tell him my story. I told him that about five or six years ago I felt I needed to move beyond representational painting in my work, that when I visited art galleries, I found I was only interested in abstract paintings. And while I made the decision one summer to give up images, it has taken several years of work to get to the place of knowing that the work I'm doing is where I have been wanting to go. I told him that when a person looks at a landscape, they think, "landscape". When they see a vase of flowers, they think, 'still life'. They put a word or words on it. I'm interested, I said, in trying to paint something that is beyond words. A place of silence. Light and silence.

I had another delightful conversation about art the same day, with Phyllis who said she loves to make things. She loves baking and making jam. She also loves doing pastels and making quilts. She asked me if my travels influence my painting. Yes, I said. I seem to gather things on a trip-ideas, thoughts, images, conversations. They might come out as colours or feelings in my work when I get home. They might not. I never know. But there is always something of the place in the work. She understood me and told me how she saw the most beautiful sunrise the other day. That sunrise inspired her to bake a cake that she would then give to her granddaughter on her wedding day. She had gathered in the light and used it to inspire herself in a way similar to what I do. We understood each other.

Two suns rising over Iona, Scotland

Callanish Standing Stones-Isle of Lewis, Scotland

Earlier on in the trip, I visited the Isle of Lewis in the Outer Hebrides and saw the Callanish Standing Stones. They are works of art that are nearly 5000 years old. They are abstract stone sculptures which have endured. People visit them, care for them and make pilgrimage to them. But no one really understands why they were constructed where they are. There are theories that they are oriented to a recurring 18.5 year lunar cycle. Like all stone circles and passage graves, they are oriented toward the light. These ancient art forms hold a mystery. Art has the potential to elevate us out of our ordinary lives. It can fill us.

Callanish III-Isle of Lewis, Scotland

Liminal Time

The word liminal comes from the Latin, limen meaning threshold. an in-between place, a place of transition, a time of waiting and not knowing. Dawn and dusk are considered liminal places. Crepuscular animals, like foxes and coyotes are most active at this time of day, a time that is considered a magical time in Celtic spirituality and to Indigenous people which is perhaps the origin of their designation as tricksters. As I write this, the northern hemisphere has just passed the vernal equinox, where day and night are of equal length.We are in a liminal space between winter and spring right now, unsure if we will have one more storm or snowfall before spring finally settles in. We're also in a liminal place as we live through this pandemic with the anxiety and discomfort of not knowing. A time of great transition for the entire world, wondering what we've learned from this and what lessons we'll carry forward. Author and Fr...

Lessons that Stone Walls Teach

Dry stone wall in the Burren, Co. Clare, Ireland I've just returned from teaching a Workshop in Wild Places class in the Burren in County Clare, Ireland. Writing this post, I'm reminded of another post I wrote after visiting Inishmaan, the middle of the Aran Islands off the west coast of Ireland several years ago. Stone walls crisscrossed the island in tight webs like a fisherman's net. I wrote then that the web of stone walls made me think of the idea of putting limitations on our painting as a way of exploring more deeply and how walls give limits against the limitless. You can read that article here. As our group hiked in the Burren with our guide, Marie McGauran we learned that the walls are stronger because of the holes in them. The wind can pass through. The oldest stone walls, estimated to be 3500 years old are at Skara Brae, a Neolithic site in Orkney. Most walls were built in the 18th and 19th century, marking areas of private ownership and resultin...

Am I Too Old to Change? Embracing Life

Photo by Miguel Á. Padriñán from Pexels I'm in the process, at last, of working on the book that came to me in a dream seven years ago. It has circled my head all these years, demanding I get at it. It's called: We're Not Done Yet: Coming to Art Later in Life . It has actually hung in the air a couple of feet behind my head, attached by a string like a helium balloon, like a cartoon cloud, waiting for me to get to it. Some of you will know of it because I posted a request on Facebook in 2019 asking for artists who have come to art later in life to reply to me if they'd like to answer a questionnaire. I received 168 responses plus earlier interviews I did before the put out the questionnaire. There was some overlap, and some didn't respond after they'd offered to. All in all, I received 128 responses. By a huge majority it was women who responded to my questionnaire. By the time we get into our 60's we bring a rich life experience to our work: m...

Janice Mason Steeves

Search This Blog