Playing Around

I am doing some technical exercises right now. It’s quite basic, but it’s one way to get into the swing of things, without over thinking. Let’s call it rediscovering acrylic on canvas.

I’ve painted with acrylics before, but it’s been a while, and the available products on the market have expanded a lot. More importantly, I am looking to expand my style, but feel a little daunted. So getting acquainted with the materials again is a good way to get the ideas flowing.

It’s a bit like getting back to the violin after playing the piano for a while. I have to practice my scales. And as in music or dance, it’s a good thing to go back to basics once in a while, for practice and for inspiration. It always yields something.

On loose pieces of canvas, I am trying out different kinds of marks, with a brush or some newly available painting instrument, doing color tests of superpositions in opacity and transparency, fluidity and thickness, while testing different painting mediums. Developing a familiarity with my tools will facilitate spontaneity later on.

 

Meanwhile, I am thinking about compositions with thumbnail size sketches, a habit I developed early on during my illustrator days. It allows me to visualize quickly an idea without going into details.

So here I am, progressing slowly in a complex world.

 

 

 

Louise Jalbert, ” Technical tests in acrylic on canvas”, 2018, 30 x 36 inches and felt marker drawings in sketchbook, 8.5 x 11 inches.

Counterpoint

A thread that runs contrary to the other threads, interlacing the fabric together.
A voice that sings differently while amplifying the other voices.
An intention that underlies the flow of a new year to live.

Read author and Bouddhist teacher Jack Kornfield’s article on intentions

What underground current will carry my thoughts and actions this year?
I choose to create beauty and harmony.
Every day, in and out of the studio. It can be as simple as a smile.

That’s the thread. Now, I’ll go weaving.

Louise Jalbert, “Counterpoint”, Acrylic and collage on paper, 2002, 22 x 30 inches.