Paintings unpacked

these are the paintings from the last post, unpacked!!!!!!

the insides of things are much more interesting than their outer shell.

I think this is also true of people.......and maybe everything. Everything holds a history.

a container in the frig that's been in there for weeks.........An old woman in a home whose lost

her mind, a baby who is pre-memory. The history is there. Collected over the passing of time

whether not

yet remembered or forgotten.

Cloth, cloth, paper, paper, wax, wax, resin, resin! STOP using everything at once!

We Me Memory WE tore this apart at our first meeting.....now I can breathe
I met with my mentor for the first time.......revelation revolution!!!!!!!

As it turns out I have been making my own detritis

FAULTY DICTION

PHRASE

tough one to photo using my phone. Flour sack dish towel, human bondage ephemera, taped off oil paint, white out phrased, resin, indigo ink, milk wash glaze. Still tacky! I am in love with oil and water base relationships. They are somewhat predictable but not completely adamantly adverse about sharing a surface. This is also the case in nature. The recent disasters involving the extraction and the transport of oil on top of water have been devastating to the ecological environments above. Oil soaked birds and floating dead fish? I know that's just the tip of the devastation, but oil and water, good and evil, clean and dirty? one from the sky the other from the earth, heaven? hell? What am I talking about?
The continuing evolution of a pronoun

Waxing this one may have been going too far...but at least I recognize that!

PRONOUN
the last coat of india ink...I think i used the whole bottle, yum!

VERB or VERVE
Wheat pasted cardboard. taped off, graphite rubbed, verbs squared, wax coved resin....india ink....so reflective
today is tuesday. I am suppose to be prop shopping for a samsung shoot on thursday....I won't be here for the shoot because Miss Aris and myself will be headed to the big city tomorrow!!!!!! this is a collage I made which expresses our enthusiasm.The back of the pickup will be loaded with art! That's me drivin...i'm green. Aris is Blue and she's singin something queer by Hall and Oates. I know what our real colors are they are just not as affective here. Clear and Peach? And we won't be in an orange vintage pickup!

They don't even know who Banksy is!

Love

something I saw while looking down on Jackman's birthday which , of course, is Valentines day!

I am beginning to think the words are going to play a greater role than originally planned. In the past I have always used text as a means of texture with select words exposed engaging the analytical. sometimes the words confuse and sometimes they offer greater understanding of content. With the objective of maintaining some level of perpetual discomfort I am letting this happen on it's own and through the discourse with my assistants....including the lilliputians....mostly with them it is through observation, I see them working in much the same way that I do, only I sometimes stop prior to exhausting my supplies and most times I clean my brushes.
This is the piece Julie was working on.........verbs.
So, after Rachel squared off the phrases in whit out, Julie squared off all the verbs on another piece using a fine point sharpie. Don't think I wasn't doing anything...I was reading aloud the introduction to the 1917 pocket reference of FAULTY DICTION!This was no easy task, this reference MUST be orated in a heavy british tongue! I was sweating, It is much more difficult entertaining assistance than actually squaring off phrases and verbs. Good thing we started drinking wine about this time!

getting ready to travel!This has been successfully rolled to make room for february's sheet...actually I think the next one is a tablecloth. it's a little bigger than a twin flat. and a bit more rigid!
while the lilliputians were working on the base coat of sheet number two, Rachel squared off phrases on a 2.5 dish towel piece using whiteout. It sparked a conversation about who invented whiteout. Rachel thought it was Lenny Kravitz's mom. Alfred sad is was Michael Nesbith's mom. He was in the Monkee's. Lenny Kravitz is also in the music industry, huh. Funny how no one knows the mom's name. Apparently she was a secretary and got fed up correcting typing errors. I think her product was called liquid paper which is still in existence. White Out is a far superior correcting fluid. hard at work! I am a slave driver when it comes to assistance! they are a little messy so its a good thing the precious surfaces are protected. They apply the paint and gesso so furiously it allows for a more rigid yet flexible surface after the 4 hours it takes the thick application to dry. They never lose interest, even though they are painting the same spot with the same color over and over and over and over , they persist until the paint is gone!! This makes me think it is not the end product they are interested in but the PROCESS, the journey.

And they do Not clean their brushes! I'm gonna have to call a staff meeting to address this!

don't worry! the heat gun is off limits to the lilliputians!

some things I saw while looking down
the studio is a very busy place......many things go on at once
My team of liliputian assistance! could not do it without their enthusiasm

progress on the 2.5's. resin, wax, nepalese oil paper

This is the closest thing to what I am thinking so far!

.not that anything couldn't be I am just finding it now.

the combination of line , word, paint, balance, dark , light and decay.

No overwhelming color. All the elements i would like to see.

Tim says the paintings are dark and that they express my inner psycho .

I said, right, I am always looking down.

Another flour sack with gently adhered nepalese oil paper stained in walnut ink.....getting there, feeling very uncomfortable
too close to it
This is the most developed flour sack. Will definitely draw from this!
The big one still underway. I think I will move on to my February sheet and set her aside.....practice the roll.
This is Tallulah's first writing. she makes her a's upside down and

then just flips the paper over to view it correct!

pencil lines over white out
whited out book pages , select words exposed.....he, him, she, me, them, you, I, it, her, they.
.the whole composition.......some tape removed, some areas whited out.......I am thinking I am getting close. hemmed edges of flour sack dish cloth.

painters tape and burnished graphite

as the sidewalks dry I enter into the world of Aris Moore
My morning commute......sunrise, 2/7/2011
looking toward Portland from peaks getting ready to go
Little diamond Island, looking like a little diamond

progress......

detail of silver

wheat paste sheets curled with pencil lines

Progress and other paraphenalia

wheat paste strip
the painters tape
the painters tape removed
two palette
one palette

backshore on Sunday . So shiny!

this is where they are situated in the studio.......things may get tight, but my house has lots of wallsThis one was wheatpasted with paper bags . It makes it feel more like paper. I'm thinkin about cracks in pavement .........on it's way
this will not look like this...as you already know. painters tape is a beautiful thing, it sticks, but not so much.

just the beginning.......vintage version of Of Human Bondage...Phillip is complicated. Rachel helped me wheat paste. I love having a studio assistant. we'll see what happens here. I have been in contact with Annette as a possible mentor.....excited, love her work. Some of the text in her work I have actually written in my own! I take that as a sign. quick whit is of extreme importance to me. she got it!

This is nearing it's shelf life. it rolls . alfred says I cover too much up. He sees all the stages and knows what is going to happen.......it's nice to have someone in the know! Plus he totally turned me on to the Freakwater band. I am loving them.
my grandmother died last sunday. everything changes with the passing of time. I love old and decaying things. I love mold and moss and patches along the highway and cracks in sidewalks. Vintage anything really. My father, her son, died when I was six. He had a convertible mustang,white with red interior. I remember riding in that car, I was five, we were in a parade, I sat on the back, up off the back seat...waving, where is that car?