It may sound obvious, but the quality I appreciate the most about the act of producing art is my unique and human ability to create something new. In the act of creating, I use the abilities inherent in me and honed through school and practice, to channel my emotions and ideas and translate them onto the canvas using color and design. The tacit becomes concrete and I carry the novel into existence with pencil and brush. Sometimes when I am painting, or drawing, I try to construct an experience or feeling that I have had in my life. I struggle with my ideas and experiences on the canvas, I fight against them, mold them; and it brings me real feelings of accomplishment and eventually gratitude. I get lost in the undertaking of a painting.
I struggle every time I paint. My process consists of repeatedly building and breaking down, creating and destroying the painting, drawing, or project. I often feel frustrated, and when I do I take that as a sign to try and harness that energy to change directions, deconstruct, and start another project. This conflict is my natural technique and through practice has become a strategy that I use to keep my work genuine. If it doesn’t feel right, it probably isn’t. An important note is that I take pride in confronting the unexpected. Time has taught me to appreciate the offensive character of art.
The internal conflict that I encounter when working may be a microcosm reenacted in imitation of my larger story. My life drastically changed in a very short period of time when I married in the fall of 2005, just before completing my BFA at Stephen F. Austin State University. I suddenly found myself in early 2006 unsure about my life direction. I knew I was not ready to apply for a master’s degree program, and due to a lack of a decisive plan, or an idea of where to start, I began to question my artistic direction. I needed to find out what kind of artist I was, which ultimately led to the question of what kind of person I was.
So, in April of 2006, I enlisted in the United States Army as an infantryman. The wartime experience seemed to be a sufficient way to answer some of my questions. After four years of service, and deployment, my mindset, perception of education, and personality matured. I believe that the experience answered my questions. Upon return from deployment, I had a renewed energy and drive to pursue a master’s degree in art. So, I enrolled in a master’s program at the University of Alaska at Fairbanks, and found that my artistic attack became more problematic, my ideas more emotional, and my paintings ended up more violent. I had lost the timidity I had while in my undergraduate program.
It was at this point that I noticed that my most intriguing, and admittedly odd ideas came to me just prior to sleep. During these moments I frantically throw off the blankets, probably annoying my patient wife, and search for a sketchbook and pencil. In the dim lights, I concoct crude and simplistic sketches, with notes, to review the following day. I have retained my bedside sketchbooks, which contain years of ideas upon ideas of both completed and unfinished works. In some instances, the rough sketches become more elaborate works, and evolved into paintings. Others are doomed to remain mere ideas of a singular sleepless night. Much of my art is birthed in graphite, and I reserve baptism by paint for a small percentage of ideas.
In practice, my paintings are about 80% canvas and 20% wood or Masonite boards. Although I may have a vague idea of the end result when I start a work, I allow room for mistakes, which occur before the completion of each project. I use household paint, stains, acrylic, and collage. The most fascinating part of acrylic is that a painting can be layered and almost immediately destroyed by soaking it in water, then paint trowels, quarters, and uncut fingernails grind away old paint and reveal fresh, coarse, unique backgrounds.
I, effortlessly, accept that some of my paintings can be unpleasant for the average viewer, but in my acceptance I know that my paintings are truth. The ideas come from within me, a human being, and are rooted in my very human experience of life. Any person, if true to themselves, should be able to find parallel experiences to their own life in my pieces. I have a rare ability to convey the bad jokes in my head, the feelings in my heart, and the experiences which have had, and that made me who I am, by way of creative media.
I struggle every time I paint. My process consists of repeatedly building and breaking down, creating and destroying the painting, drawing, or project. I often feel frustrated, and when I do I take that as a sign to try and harness that energy to change directions, deconstruct, and start another project. This conflict is my natural technique and through practice has become a strategy that I use to keep my work genuine. If it doesn’t feel right, it probably isn’t. An important note is that I take pride in confronting the unexpected. Time has taught me to appreciate the offensive character of art.
The internal conflict that I encounter when working may be a microcosm reenacted in imitation of my larger story. My life drastically changed in a very short period of time when I married in the fall of 2005, just before completing my BFA at Stephen F. Austin State University. I suddenly found myself in early 2006 unsure about my life direction. I knew I was not ready to apply for a master’s degree program, and due to a lack of a decisive plan, or an idea of where to start, I began to question my artistic direction. I needed to find out what kind of artist I was, which ultimately led to the question of what kind of person I was.
So, in April of 2006, I enlisted in the United States Army as an infantryman. The wartime experience seemed to be a sufficient way to answer some of my questions. After four years of service, and deployment, my mindset, perception of education, and personality matured. I believe that the experience answered my questions. Upon return from deployment, I had a renewed energy and drive to pursue a master’s degree in art. So, I enrolled in a master’s program at the University of Alaska at Fairbanks, and found that my artistic attack became more problematic, my ideas more emotional, and my paintings ended up more violent. I had lost the timidity I had while in my undergraduate program.
It was at this point that I noticed that my most intriguing, and admittedly odd ideas came to me just prior to sleep. During these moments I frantically throw off the blankets, probably annoying my patient wife, and search for a sketchbook and pencil. In the dim lights, I concoct crude and simplistic sketches, with notes, to review the following day. I have retained my bedside sketchbooks, which contain years of ideas upon ideas of both completed and unfinished works. In some instances, the rough sketches become more elaborate works, and evolved into paintings. Others are doomed to remain mere ideas of a singular sleepless night. Much of my art is birthed in graphite, and I reserve baptism by paint for a small percentage of ideas.
In practice, my paintings are about 80% canvas and 20% wood or Masonite boards. Although I may have a vague idea of the end result when I start a work, I allow room for mistakes, which occur before the completion of each project. I use household paint, stains, acrylic, and collage. The most fascinating part of acrylic is that a painting can be layered and almost immediately destroyed by soaking it in water, then paint trowels, quarters, and uncut fingernails grind away old paint and reveal fresh, coarse, unique backgrounds.
I, effortlessly, accept that some of my paintings can be unpleasant for the average viewer, but in my acceptance I know that my paintings are truth. The ideas come from within me, a human being, and are rooted in my very human experience of life. Any person, if true to themselves, should be able to find parallel experiences to their own life in my pieces. I have a rare ability to convey the bad jokes in my head, the feelings in my heart, and the experiences which have had, and that made me who I am, by way of creative media.
