This is a new painting that is part of my annual show at the West End Gallery opening next Friday, July 26. This 24″ by 30″ canvas is titled This Perfect World. It’s a painting that has taken a while to come around and has turned into one of my favorites, probably because of the way it has evolved.
This is one of those pieces that started quickly, back in January or February, then came to a standstill, losing all momentum. I would pick it up every few days and look at it but I could see nothing. The surface seemed flat and dull and nothing made me want to even attempt to push ahead. Finally, a couple of weeks back, I decided it was time to move on this painting. It would rise or fall but it would no longer linger in the shadows of the studio.
I quickly heightened the colors of the landscape in the foreground and suddenly the whole thing jumped to life. Everything in the composition contrasted off of this small change dramatically, taking away the dullness and building depth. Even though I have seen this on numerous occasions, it still shocks me when this transformation occurs so quickly. It creates that sense of excitement that I am looking for myself in all of my work, that feeling that has me anxious to push forward so that I can see the ending. Like an impatient reader who goes to the end of a book to see how it all turns out.
And soon it was done. So quickly it came, a final touch here and the transformation from lifeless surface to a vibrant entity is complete. I wish I could know exactly where this transformation occurs, at what point in my process does it jump to life. But that remains a mystery to me. Perhaps as it should.
Looking at it afterwards, there is a sense of fullness and rightness in the piece. That is where the title comes in to play. The natural world is a perfect thing. By that I mean that there is no room for indecision or regret over every mistake. Everything simply is.
Each moment is the only possible result of all circumstances that have taken place before that moment. Each moment perfectly fits the setting that has been created for it. Perfect.
Now, though I invoke the word here, I am not looking for it in my representations of this natural perfection. I think the imperfections in a piece display the human element in the natural world. And this painting is a good example of it. There are visible edges in the sky where the pigment set before I lifted it from the surface. There are bits of bristle from my brush (and maybe a little hair from my head ?) in the paint. There are tiny dark spatters of paint here and there. All of these flaws, as some may call them, are perfect to me. When I take in the painting as a whole, I don’t see imperfections. I see the rightness of the piece, its perfection in the moment. Those human indicators simply give it depth for me, let me know that I was in that moment.
And that is as perfect as it can be for me…
Redtree Times 
The finished piece looks great! I can totally relate to lacking the momentum to finish a painting. I usually get to a point with each painting where I feel stuck, and end up starting something new (only to lose momentum eventually as well). Then I’ll start running out of space with half finished paintings all over my apartment and I’ll power through all of them in a couple of days! Glad you found the inspiration to continue with this one, because it turned out lovely.
Thanks, Agata. Hope you’re staying unstuck with your work.
Gary, This one is sublime! Another…favorite! Well done.
Thanks much, Claire. That is really appreciated. Hope life is treating you well out in your part of the world.
“Each moment is the only possible result of all circumstances that have taken place before that moment.”
Alternatively, each moment is only one of an infinite number of possible results.
Another way to see it, perhaps, is that the bristles, the visible edges, the spatters, are a bit of process that’s been captured into the product. Paintings that clearly are the work of a human hand always seem livelier to me.
It’s the same with wood. Now and then I get a customer who fusses about irregular grain or unmatched color among pieces of wood. I tell them that, if they’re intent on uniformity and perfect matches, they should buy plastic. The world doesn’t create that way.