I covered the paper in paint, with a color called fawn. It was still wet and reflecting light. From the book that I have destroyed in the name of art, I grabbed a oddly shaped strip without thinking. My intention was to create a base rich in texture and layers. The paper bonded with the wet paint and when I looked down, it’s possible the world froze in time, at least in my living room, it did. I shivered slightly at what I saw.
Art has a way of taking our randomness and our mistakes and making the best things happen. When we simply respond to the process and begin with the tools, it leads us down a foggy trail, where we see only one step at a time. Every layer and color, shadow and edge, they come together creating something reflective of something bigger than us. People often fear the unknown, but I think the best outcomes are waiting for us there. Ones we couldn’t imagine; ones we risk never knowing. In art and in life, of course, because I find no distinction between the two.
I looked down and I saw him instantly, roaring his dreams to the open night sky. There is something huge in this torn-paper-bear, telling of life and the search that compels and sustains us. We begin with the idea of the search leading us to where we will find Him, but really the search is where we find Him, in the middle of our doings, in the process of creating. The search is our life and in the responding and creating and applying paper to wet paint, He causes the best things to happen.
*This is the first from my new collection that I will be sharing soon and adding to the shop soon.