“If you understand a painting beforehand, you might as well not paint it.”– Salvador Dalí
Painting is an accumulation of marks, each representing a discovery: it's not possible to know ahead of time what lies along the way. I can quickly put a rough sketch on canvas, but then things shift. I enter into a dialogue with the painting, and treat it as an organic, developing thing with it's own logic, unknown to me but discoverable.
This began as a drawing of a small wire snake Wes brought home from a business trip to Mozambique:
And ended up as two intertwined snakes traced out in beads and found objects.
But when someone comes to me with an idea for a painting or other commission, I have to balance my desire to see where the image will go with confining myself to the task at hand.
When a client has a photo they would like made into a painting, things are pretty straightforward.
If someone has an idea in mind, but is open to how it will come together, I spend time getting to know the personalities involved and take photographs, giving us settings and ideas to choose from.
I just painted three cats, a gift for a son and daughter in law.
The cats lived some time ago, and the assorted photos in my hands were my only references for them. These cats were bursting with personality, and I decided to show them up close to highlight it. This also eliminated the need for full body photos, which I didn't have.