My Journey

I’ve been making art since I can remember.  It was the thing I got positive attention for and I was good at it. So, I made art. I was also that introverted kid who found herself in nature.  I played outside all the time, observing every tiny thing, and was fortunate enough to grow up in the countryside with woods and a farm to endlessly explore.  Growing up near Lake Michigan also created a love of all things water and beach.  The waves, sunsets, and every stone in the sand mesmerized me.  I collected memories and countless tiny bits of nature to observe.

I went on to earn a Bachelor and Master of Fine Arts degrees (1994/1996) in 2D, Drawing and Painting. My undergraduate work was nature-based and exploratory My graduate work was radically different from my BFA work with layered, thick, paint hiding bodies, and memories; the vulnerabilities and wonders of being a woman and mother. What tied my work together was color, subtle but bold imagery, and mark making.  I learned that the making, the process, is critically important to me. Graduate School is set up to disrupt, make you question, and make you go deeper into your work and purpose. I left a better painter, colorist, maker, and thinker.

I first began to trust my passion for landscape while living in Italy (1999-2002.)  I painted the mountains, fields, fog, and color.  When I arrived in San Antonio in 2002, I felt the same pull to record, understand, and express my experience of the land and space I witnessed. Texas skies never disappoint.

For many years, I painted on location in Utah, Italy, Texas, Michigan, and West Virginia, which helped train my eye and touch for color as well as develop the ability to capture the essence of a place quickly.  I have especially fond memories of being parked along country roads in Italy while the locals approached to watch me paint.  I was not fluent in Italian, nor they, in English; the art spoke for us.  I sold several wet paintings during that time in Italy when my family was there via the US Air Force. 

Now-a-days, I usually begin painting using a personal reference photo but release myself from the exactitude of it to highlight the abstraction, color, pattern, line and texture that draws my attention and demands an attempt to understand. I am also free to explore the action and movement of paint on the surface which is a never-ending source of mystery to me. The painting process leads my pursuit to capture the psychology of the space, place, and experience. 

In December 2018, I began painting the same view from the back porch of my house which sits on top of a low ridge in far West San Antonio, facing West.  It has never once looked the same. Seeing the changing color, temperature, texture, cloud patterns, wind direction, rain, time-of-day, season, and that bizarre thin, glowing, yet, ever-changing line of color that rests between the top edge of the trees and bottom edge of the sky is constantly in flux and mesmerizes me. Just as colors evoke mood and memories, so do shapes of storms, for example, a low front can weigh heavy like a loss or a burden.  These are ideas that capture me and I must explore. 

My work and the process of making it is an exploration of my life experiences and who I am through nature. As life unfolds for all of us, we have times of joy and laughter, and times of pain and great challenge.  I seem to paint images that permit a way to escape or embrace the challenge and flow of my life through the metaphor of nature.  It reflects my introverted, contemplative self, and the powerful connection I’ve had to nature since childhood.  

This way of being: letting the art lead, not doubting my draw to a subject, allowing the process to unfold and reveal its purpose, is what I have come to embrace. It is who I am, how I am as an artist. It always has been. The paintings are my journey, my secrets, my fears, and hopes, my need to observe and understand. I hope those who embrace the visual sensory experience of the work feel a shared human story and a deeper connection to nature. This is what I offer in my art. 

Marjorie Lindsay