Chaos Theory

Now that I've sent my painting off to Mesa Verde, I really have no deadline pressure. In some ways it's nice, but in some ways I miss this...


Russia chaos


St. Hugh's chaos


So I guess that's why I pulled apart my studio for a major spring cleaning. It was a good enough substitute for cleaning out the old brain I guess. I pulled everything away from the walls, evicting many species of spiders, but I tried my best not to kill them. (Sorry to the one that I sucked up in the shop vac before I realized what it was. Forgive me spider woman.)

Now I am surrounded by order, and it's a beautiful thing. Time to mess it up again!


I found a great blog ( Out of Character ) to add to my blog list. It's not primarily an art blog, but so funny and real.

The 3rd of July

I live in one of those waterfront neighborhoods in RI that go insane on the 4th of July. It's no use fighting it, you just have to go down to the shore and dodge the fireworks.

For about a week before, these bonfire piles sprout on area beaches. I loved the way this one looked, especially as the tide came in.

I dreamed I met Dali and Magritte at sunset

This ad is from an old medical magazine, published when surrealism was all the rage. I believe the ad is for sleeping pills. The night sure seems long and scary without Neurinase. A good way to knock out your "enfants" too, apparently.

The elemental things - Sue McNally at the Newport Art Museum

After reading a review of the Sue McNally show in the local paper, I decided it was time to weigh in with my impressions of the show now up at the Newport Art Museum.

The first painting I saw on entering the gallery was Paradise at Night. Across the room the white spotlight effect of the moon on the dark canvas was definitely a Strange Attractor. I took quick glance around the gallery and was at first sorry that there were only 3 of these large paintings, along with 3 smaller ones. But, although the gallery is huge, it could hardly contain the energy of any more.

As I approached I discovered that, not only are the large paintings composed of 3 panels each, but within those panels are many other paintings to explore. This is not a quick show to see.

In the center of Paradise at Night, a speck of a buoy in the column of moonshine seems very tiny and far away, floating as it does below the luminous and translucent clouds that rise above it. Although diaphanous, they are clearly part of the immense atmosphere. A tiny line of breaking surf brings me back to earth and stylized waves pulse into the concave coast with a pattern like the ridges on a clamshell.


Unfortunately this is not a very good representation of the painting, but will give an idea of how it's laid out

In another painting, The Last Valley, Paradise Rocks, she succeeds in her stated goal to "place the viewer within the scene". The feeling seems more authentic because once there you encounter a barrier of brambles and thickets. It's passable, but not without planning a careful path, even then it's still a scramble, except maybe for a path over the rocks on the right side that leads, not down to the ocean, but to a side overlook which will give a different perspective on the valley.


Within this painting there are many more. In one, slabs of rock rise from the reeds and I get the impression that there is a frenetic activity going on there, perhaps small animals moving over its surface and burrowing about in the brush.


The brambles are also wonderful paintings in their own right.

I really enjoyed spending time with all the energy and color of this show. Somehow much more rewarding than the sterile, one-ironic-idea installations that are being served up to a "world ...sick to its thin blood for lack of elemental things".

The show will be up till August 12 at the Newport Art Museum.

The day job out foxed

I used to be pretty good at my day job. I was the person who could fix the website when all other attempts failed. I could build new things too. I could edit other people's things. I made it look pretty. I actually took some pleasure in it. My co-workers thanked me.

Then, for some reason that made no sense at all, management moved me to another department. I won't whine about it, after all, "I'm lucky I still have a job" but... suffice to say that this job does not play to my strengths.

OK, a little whining...can't help it.

After a frustrating morning yesterday, I went to lunch and read a bit of "The Outermost House" by Henry Beston. He writes (in 1928!),

"The world today is sick to its thin blood for lack of elemental things, for fire before the hands, for water welling from the earth, for air, for the dear earth itself underfoot."

My soul soared. Then lunch was over and I took myself and my thin blood back to my cubicle, where I found several emails waiting for me pointing out my morning's transgressions ("did not I read the documentation on the proper procedures?!").

I was sick to my thin blood alright. I finally got on my bike for my commute home and by the side of the bike-path I spied (gasp!) a magical red fox, bounding over a bush and flowing into the undergrowth. Like something out of a fairy tale.

And you know, that was the most important thing that happened to me all day.

Fragile atmosphere

One morning I heard a weather report during which the weatherman (Art Lake, for all you Rhode Islanders. For the rest of you, no, I am not making his name up...) said something unexpectedly poetic. He said "the atmosphere is very fragile today"...I'm not sure what that meant, but I liked it! I painted this on my lunch break.

NOT FOR NOTHING, BUT: I'm sorry that they rebuilt the interior stairs in the Providence Art Club. I loved the old wide wavy wooden stairs. I imagine they were the original 1880's treads, worn into smooth organic slabs by thousands of artist's footsteps.