Tuesday, August 31, 2010

What floats your boat?


Rocks are inspiring, intriguing and mysterious. They sit around in the studio, I pick them up and listen to the sound of them hitting each other as I juggle a few in the palm of my hand. My fingers rub the smooth surface and wonder how I can make them part of the next painting.


I love the look of buttons in a jar. Some are big and flat, some are little and thick. 4 holes or 2 did they live on a shirt or a jacket? Did the little shiny white one live alone on the back of a little girl's dress?









The line up of spools waiting for their contents to be unwound and reshaped into who knows what.....





My brushes with evidence of washes past call to me. Some of the ferrels are getting rusty but it constrasts so nicely with the blue that doesn't want to let go.









The soft flowing paint that I pushed around with a knife now sits raised and stiff revealing itself after the grit of sandpaper brings back the ridges of color.




*Well, I tried to get creative with the layout and it didn't work, hence the weird spacing.

4 comments:

Kelli said...

I just have to tell my blogging buddy Carlynne that I LOVE this post. The photos are creative, (never mind the layout, blogger has trantrums) and the descriptions are very creative!! The little button that lived alone on the back of a little girl's dress, the blue that doesn't want to let go. I think the reason I love reading is that words have always made very clear pictures in my head and I have been anamored of pictures since I was very tiny. Love your photos AND your pictures!

Kelli said...

PS sorry for the typo on enamored. Yes, I do have a dictionary.

Paul Ware said...

Carlynne, Last time I visited your studio you had a rock collection that would get any rock hound excited. I find the colors, textures and twisted shapes of dried leaves inspiring, especially back lit by a few rays of sunlight. I keep a box of them in the studio. Nice blog post.

Carlynne said...

awww...thanks Kelli!

Paul, I have a picture of the leaves in my mind, lovely. It brings me back to autumn in NJ and the smell of the leaves when we'd jump in the newly raked piles. I think I'm wishful thinking too - for temps below 90 :)