When people first see my paintings, they're often surprised to find painted folds of fabric doubling as hills, roads and mountains, and to see animals interacting with these "fabricscapes." That these works are landscape and still life at once is unique.That they are different is the fun of it. And that they're formed from the ordinary accouterments of my life is significant. I like to offer the surprise of seeing a common object in a new way, and I want my work to elicit smiles or laughs, and generate an "a-ha!" when someone gets the whole idea. As a result, many people have said to me, "I just don't have your imagination." But that's not a realistic statement, because imagination isn't something that some people have and others don't. It's really a process of combining thinking with observation, and it's something that anyone can develop.
But imaginations are just like bodies–they need regular exercise in order to stay in good working shape. Exercising your imagination means that you listen to it often, and learn to take fleeting ideas and develop them into paintings. If you do it frequently, you'll be able to "file" those fleeting ideas and mull them over long enough to see if they'll lead you anywhere. The payoff for regular use is an effortless and endless supply of ideas whenever we want them. Here are a few exercises that will limber up a stiff imagination.
Find a quiet spot, shut your eyes, and call up an image of something you know very well, perhaps your cat. Take the time to let the image form clearly in your mind. Then change the image-make the cat another color (how about purple?), give it wings and watch it fly, add another tail, and so on. You may have difficulty with this at first, but persevere. Begin with five minutes-set a timer (one that doesn't tick too loudly is best) so you don't have to watch the clock.
As adults, we tend to reject ideas that fall outside the boundaries of what we define as "normal." Imagination can and should help you stretch those boundaries. When I begin setting up a painting, even if I have a specific idea in mind, I try to cultivate a "playful" attitude, and stay receptive to new ideas. I add and subtract objects and rearrange things, all the while responding to what is happening visually and also what's happening to the subject (sometimes a visual change also shifts metaphors or symbols). I try not to censor anything during this play period. I just keep working with the possiblties until everything falls into place. Flexibility here is important. At times, I've started out with one idea and ended up with something completely different.
This is one of my favorite approaches to beginning a new piece. Finding connections between objects that seem totally unrelated is a real imagination-stretcher. You might try beginning with a design element (a color, shape, line, value or texture), then try to find things in your subject that echo it.
If you're dealing with ordinary subject matter, one way to make it more unusual is to imagine it in terms of opposites. Here's an example: A banana is normally yellow, smooth, satin-finished and it's length is longer than its diameter. Imagine, for example, a "banana" that is violet, rough, dull and fatter than it is long. This process is frequently expressed in art as abstraction and arbitrary color.
By using these four techniques often, I'm able to see artistic possibilities nearly anywhere. I visualize all the time. I've "painted in my head" while driving, cooking, cleaning and nearly any other situation. Likewise, looking for analogies/metaphors and oppositions has become almost second nature.
IDEAS
AT WORK
Using these imagination-builders is what gave me the fabricscape
idea. One day, I was cutting out several garments and had a stack
of various fabrics on the table. I was interrupted, and needed
the space on the table, so I shoved the pile of fabrics back up
against the wall. The next time I looked at them I thought, "that
looks sort of like little mountains and hills. " That was
the critical moment. Everyone has those fleeting imaginative thoughts,
but most of the time they're rejected so quickly that they never
have the chance to blossom into a full-fledged idea, especially
if they occur at times other than when we're making art. But here,
I held onto the idea, turning it into an entire series of paintings.
It's not only during this "launching" stage that I call
on my imagination. I use it all the way through the painting process-sometimes
relying more heavily on observation, and other times I'm more
concerned with thinking or fantasizing.
To begin each painting, I set up the fabric and the characters not only to satisfy my creative ideas, but also to work compositionally. I arrange the fabric to set up a pattern of large shapes, using edges and folds to provide movement in the work. The patterns and colors of each individual fabric piece aren't critical-I frequently change those to reinforce the concept of my work while painting. What is important is that the overall shape is exciting and fits with my creative concept.
Now, I do some pure fact-taking; I photograph the setup from several angles so that I can refer to the photos later. This is more expedient than working directly from the set-up since, due to the glazing process that I use, I work on more than one painting at a time. And, I have cats, who like to play too, especially with setups that contain small objects! Besides, I'm not after a direct copy of the setup—I need it only as a starting point.
To begin the painting, I draw the basic contours on a piece of paper. When these look right to my imagination and my objective eye, I transfer them to a piece of 140-lb. (or heavier) watercolor paper, which has been soaked, stretched, and allowed to dry.
Although my imaginative process is as loose and free as possible, I use a "controlled" approach when applying the paint. This doesn't mean there's no room for spontaneity, but it does mean that each wash needs to dry thoroughly before the next is added. Colors are built up in layers, so some planning is required. I need to know which areas will remain white or the lightest values, so I don't paint over them at all. I usually work light to dark, but if I'm going to have a very dark area in the final piece, I'll paint a small area of this dark early on to help me gauge the relative values of the other passages. Depending on the effect I want, I paint on dry paper and soften edges with clear water, or re-wet areas with a colored or clear-water wash, and add color or lift out highlights.
As the painting
progresses, I use my imagination to create appropriate fabric
patterns. I use patterns to reinforce the theme of the piece,
and also to add a decorative element. I draw from many different
media and methods to create the patterns, sometimes painting,
stamping or stencilling them on. Stamps include ready-made ones
and also hand-cut ones from soft erasers.
Some of my stencils are hand-cut with a graphic arts knife from heavy stencil paper or wax paper (depending on the complexity of the stencil and how much it will be used). I also use ready-made items such as paper doilies, nylon lace, bottoms and sides of plastic fruit baskets, string and dish rags. The stencilling process involves cutting a mask from waxed paper to protect the areas that won't receive paint. With the mask held in place with tape or weights, I place the stencil over the area and mix a "dry wash" (more pigment, less water) of the desired color, and spatter it with a toothbrush. The painting proceeds quickly at the beginning and slows dramatically as the painting nears completion. Then, I spend a significant amount of time looking at it—upsidedown, from a distance, and in very subdued lighting, looking for errors in value, color and intensity. Here, I use much more of a critical eye than an irnaginative one. Finally, when I think it's complete, I put it away for a while. When I take it out to look at it again, any elements out of place are usually obvious. When the painting satisfies me, my part in the creative process is complete for that particular piece. Imagination, coupled with objective thought has already given me an idea for the next one. When you put these imagination-boosters to work, you can make your own creative process brim with richer, more exciting ideas that come to you in even an unlikely, fleeting moment.
