It’s the first time I’ve ever done anything quite like this. The painting I started on our dining room wall is like one of my drawings, but very different too. It’s completely intuitive. I worked on it by staring at the wall until I saw something, a color, or shape or image on the wall. Then I would paint or draw it, then stop and stare and wait until the next thing came along.
My plan to use the fabric stamps didn’t work, the wall was too hard and uneven.
So I used paint, permanent marker and pencil. I’m not done yet and I find the process obsessive. I stopped painting because I was tired and the next idea didn’t come, my head was fuzzy.
I probably won’t get to work on it till after Christmas. But I keep wanting to go back and look at it, to see what’s next. It’s drawing me in.
We’re going to Boston tomorrow for a few days. Visiting some museums. I might bring an idea back with me for my wall painting. Although I’m already thinking of cave paintings and that “dog face”, on the left, that came from the shape of a plaster repair. How they would repeat an image to show movement.
But it’s late, and I still have to pack…..
9 thoughts on “My Painting on the Dining Room Wall”
What is it about trees? Their loneliness? Their majesty? Their strength? I had a bad childhood, nobody’s fault,-lost in Eastern Europe curing WW II Reclaimed by grandparents afterwards. Unpleasant boarding schools.. I started to draw big trees with bare branches, over and over.
Year later I have bonded with my elder niece, now in her 50s after I discovered that she frequently drew the same trees and used to retreat to an actual tree when unhappy as a child. She is now a professional artist in Australia.
My husband and I have a back yard in a small Delaware city, filled with old, old trees with gnarled roots, many above the ground and I draw so much courage and happiness from them. I am not religious but the symbol of Mother Earth, nourishing us all, speaks to me through the trees. Where would we be without them?
That’s just how I feel about trees Erika. I draw from their strength and protective “arms”.
Maria, Your way of discovering what the wall, the uneven plaster, is saying to you and making your art as the revelations come, is very reminiscent of Michelangelo discovering what was inside a piece of marble as he chipped away at it, letting the marble tell him what was trapped inside. Annie
That’s funny Annie, because I’ve heard that, and can’t imagine how someone could carve anything from a block of stone. But I know what you’re saying, mine way is additive, carving is subtractive.
My first reaction was- “Are you kidding me? This is brilliant!” I could not envision what you would do with that wall but I had no doubt it would be wonderful- Oh my gosh- I didn’t see anything like this coming. And yes it is wonderful! Your emotive, intuitive sense in creating art is a joy to witness.
I think this is awesome; the idea, the process, the freedom…
Dear Maria, I never thought of that, sculpture is subtractive, your wall painting is additive. I like that explanation. After seeing Jon’s photo of your wall painting and how you outlined the dog’s head, I just had to come back here and see if it was there! How amazing! The dog’s head is as clear to me as if you had painted it on! This wall of art is just meant to be, and is on the hand of the absolutely right artist. Annie