Accepting Nature as My Muse

I have had nearly a year of full time capability to paint and create since retiring from teaching to help my husband in medical need. This open studio time was like going back to grad school minus the professors questioning everything. I painted regularly during my career, had shows and gallery representation but thought surely I could do something more profound, more important than the introspective landscape work I had been doing. After all, it is beautiful and more serious artists don’t create beauty, or landscapes right? Especially with the state of the world we are in.

I have put myself through it. I have journaled, researched and sketched into the depths of me. I have never fully understood my need to work from nature accept that it was a big part of my childhood. I just had this uncontrollable pull to get an image/study of a place on a surface (read my poem) which would help me figure it out. It was a visual journey into color and texture on a surface. And I carried a post-grad school guilt about it-like I didn’t want my professors to know I moved on from my figurative work.

With this time, I have been able to put all my work side-by-side on the floor of my studio (never had time before). I started to see the connections, the preference for squares, my need for a very low horizon in most cases, my use of series and time, my brushwork. I have a love of light and atmosphere even if it is muted and gray.

I have always always been in awe of nature, to the point of being a bit of an oddball rock, shell, driftwood, and bug collector. If I found it interesting, I could not resist. The moment of discovery and the excitement examining every tiny detail was a rush of wonder. Nature was and is a part of me. When I see a grand Texas sky it is the same rush I had with a tiny rock, shining in the sand. I gotta have it.

I need to accept my muse. She is as necessary as water to me. I believe I paint to collect that moment of discovery that moment when you feel overwhelmed by her beauty and power all at once . I have always been drawn to the process of making. Each mark, each layer is building an object and a memory. I feel for those who aren’t drawn to be in nature because they need it. We all need it to survive. And in that sense, having nature as a muse seems important; is important. If I can somehow create objects that elicit that sense of awe and invite slow looking I have shared something worthwhile. I accept you without guilt, my mother nature muse.

One of my favorite artists who explores our perception of landscape is April Gornik. I highly recommend visiting her work.