Uncovering the Color

I just want to add one more thing about painting today.

At one point during the painting process, I covered everything in black. This was a heartbreaker at first. I’d spent so much time on the color work and decided to cover it up. It seemed so morbid and wrong.

But as I painted on the black, I recognized a persistence of color. I took my fingers and scratched at the canvas. The colors reappeared in all their vibrance, peeking through the dark overlay. It looked fantastic. I couldn’t believe it. Even the black itself wasn’t really black. It was a glossy, purpley mix of everything underneath.

That final creation—vibrant color peeking through black and gray, embodies much of what I’m about. I believe in the power of darkness to drive us to new heights of life and light. I believe that we each hold massive amounts of color and joy within us, but it must be uncovered. Life is not only growing and adding and finding new color. It is revealing the color that already exists within us, and that color is part of the darkness. Black is actually EVERY color combined. It’s not an empty thing. It holds everything. It holds all possibility.

Also, about covering up the color: Is the color worthless if no one sees it? Or does it create form and texture that the painting would lack without it? The artist wouldn’t have gotten to the final purple-black finish without all the color beforehand.

I understand Rothko’s chapel paintings a little more now. Endless color rests beneath the dark finish. And even though I’m curious and wish he’d unleashed the color to the world, at least I know that the color exists.

With Rothko, though, I wonder if he got to the point where he couldn’t see beyond the mass of color that turned to black. He couldn’t separate all the color he saw into different pieces. I wonder if, in a way, he might have been trapped inside the mix of color. He couldn’t make sense of it and so felt he had to leave us (committing suicide).

It isn’t bad to feel confused or dominated or overwhelmed by the colors and thoughts and ideas of the world and within ourselves, but it does make it more difficult to cope with life. That is the curse of the artist: a million ideas. What do we do with them? And when we do something with them, the onlookers tend to critique them to death.

What’s more, the thing we as artists create rarely if never fully expresses the idea within. Artists who can accept this and the reinterpretation of their own ideas by others thrive. Those who obsess over getting across EVERY nuance or who feel shot down when their ideas are interpreted in an unsatisfactory way have a much more difficult time.

I want to accept my thoughts and the thoughts of others. I’d like to have a conversation with uncomfortable ideas instead of immediately shoving them away. I want to recognize that everything holds color. It all shines, even the darkness.

Curiosity is key. I want to investigate what might live under the surface of things. I want to scratch away the black until I see that the black has a purpose, too.

Coloring through the Fear

I finally painted today! I attended a process painting class, used paint, explored, and didn’t have to withstand any critiques. It was all about letting my own creativity out, taking note of my resistances, and seeing what happened when I ignored the resistance and followed my heart.

I started out painting with whatever colors I felt like using. Every couple of minutes, I would see my painting and love it but also want to continue painting. I felt sure that if I kept on adding paint and color, I would ruin my creation. I noticed this resistance, and instead of moving on to a new piece of paper, I followed my intuition and put the next color exactly where I wanted to, just to see what might happen.

What was the worst that could happen? Giant fears of ruining my perfect picture arose within me. Did I really think that ruining a painting would ruin my life? My fear made no sense, and I immediately related it to how I think about decisions in my daily life. I can exhibit such catastrophic thinking. Every choice seems like life or death. My painting process reflected that.

In the studio, however, I transcended the fear and never changed my canvas. The miraculous thing was that every time I continued painting, despite worries that my work was at its most beautiful and would be marred by another brush stroke, the painting got better. Once I made another mark or muddled my “perfect” creation, a new technique or idea opened up that made something else even more shockingly beautiful. By getting to a new stage with the painting instead of repeating the start of another one, I discovered techniques I never would have considered and learned more about color combinations and paint texture. That information remained hidden and unavailable when I stayed in the safe spot and stopped before I “ruined” anything.

It felt good to break through and do the challenging thing. And it felt odd to have been so wrong. Continuing to paint didn’t ruin anything—it opened me up to more.

And that’s what I want to do in life. I want to go beyond safety to a place where miracles and true learning occur. I want to remember that I can’t make a mistake and that resistance is worth examining.

Worth a Look - at the Houston Center for Photography

I visited the Houston Center for Photography today and saw a thought-provoking exhibit that hit home for me. Beauty Knows No Pain features images by O. Rufus Lovett and Leah DeVun that examine the expression and perception of femininity in contemporary American culture. Lovett’s work follows the Kilgore Rangerettes, a well-known drill team that dresses in boots, hats, and cowgirl-style skirt sets typical of Texas cheer or drill teams. DeVun has photographed young girls dressed up in Hannah Montana gear, complete with the blond wigs, flashy jewelry, and black leggings girls beg their parents to buy them at Wal-mart.

I first made my way through the Rangerette photos, a group of images dating from 1989 to today, and the smile would not leave my face. The joy in those girls’ expressions combined with the unbelievable contortions some were performing reminded me of the strength within all of us. Although some might say that the short skirts and even the entire idea behind drill teams in general pigeon-hole women into a negative female stereotype, I found the images satisfyingly wholesome. I could tell these girls worked hard and did their best to put on an amazing show.

I also connected with what I imagined might lie behind those pasted-on smiles. It was obvious that the girls loved what they were doing. Nonetheless, what they do is ultimately a show, and the performers have real lives beyond the kick-up-yer-heels routines. In those photos, I saw real girls demonstrating their strength, teamwork, and beauty in a forum acceptable to our society.

I have little doubt that eventually drill teams like the Rangerettes will be phased out as old-fashioned. But places where women can work together as a team and show their strength while being appreciated for their beauty will always exist. These elements are critical to almost every woman’s maturation. Entities like the Rangerettes provide a place for women to express their femininity, and they serve as one portrayal of femininity in our culture.

Is this portrayal positive or negative? Probably a little of both. The main thing is not to see it as a whole. The Rangerettes and the images of them represent one version of femininity (although that version may be multi-layered and different for every girl depicted in the photos and every person who sees them). Viewing possibilities for women through a narrow scope limits everyone in our culture. There are many more ways to be a woman.

Speaking of those many different ways, I moved on to DeVun’s portion. I expected my smile to continue. I usually adore seeing happy little girls playing dress up. Instead, I walked through with a slightly troubled feeling in my stomach. The girls didn’t seem happy, and they didn’t seem like they had chosen their outfits to dress up in. Society had chosen their outfits. Their very self-expression had arrived pre-packaged in a cardboard box labeled “Hannah Montana.” No doubt these girls are finding their way through girlhood in America, doing the best they can to express themselves with the tools given, but in their wigs and bangles, they seem prematurely adolescent. Seven year olds draped in scarves and already projecting the slightly bored expression worn by too many fashion models makes even a cynic long to gift these girls with a childhood—a childhood not branded with Disney.

Granted, I have a slight resentment against Disney. After I worked for them, the Walt Disney synergy so overwhelmingly diffused throughout American (and global) culture became too downright creepy to enjoy anymore. I still haven’t completely rid myself of that “ick” in my belly.

More than that, though, the juxtaposition of these two ways of expressing femininity (the Rangerettes and Hannah Montana) made me consider all the other ways women are portrayed and how I want to portray myself. What tools are given to me for the purpose of self-expression? Do I use those tools? Do the portrayals society gives me affect or distort how I view myself as a woman? Have these images limited me? Did they at one time? How can I transcend popular representations of women and assert my true self, loving every bit of it? Can I dissect those popular representations and determine the truths they hold from the lies?

In any case, the exhibit is certainly worthwhile. And at the astoundingly reasonable price of FREE, Beauty Knows No Pain serves as yet another example of why the Houston Center for Photography is one of my favorite places to go.

In this same vein, photographer Shelley Calton will be giving an artist talk at the Houston Center for Photography on March 25th at 7pm. She’ll also be signing copies of her new book Hard Knocks: Rolling with the Derby Girls. This collection and her last one, Invisible Thread, offer more images that remind viewers of feminine strength and the things that tie us all together as women. She’s worth checking out.

Best wishes, love, and strength to you all! Men and women alike.