Here's more of that series that I'm working on. I thought that I would take to opportunity to throw these mid-process pieces in with the rest of these "finishes", because it gives me the opportunity to talk about my concept of a finish.

Basically, my excitement for working comes from not really knowing where the piece will end up. I've always considered there to be multiple "finishes" for a piece. I guess a more appropriate way of describing it would be that there are moments while working when everything just feels cohesive enough to leave it be. You can work past that, but then you're working on a new piece, if that makes any sense. You're taking it past one direction's end and bringing it to a new place. All of that is really exciting for me. So, with these, because I stopped, I'll come back to them and work off what's there and eventually come to a "good spot"; and that's just really fun.

So, here they are. I'm playing with colors. I'm layering and making a mess, all the while not knowing exactly where it'll end up. I guess that's not really the most efficient way of completing an assignment-based piece (which this one isn't, but it could be), but I think my true success will come from being able to do that. Get a commission, work more in the vein of that commission, and find a synthesis or compromise between that and the way I just happen upon or work towards a "good spot". I think I'll get there.


Take care,

Andrew

These two are the last ones I'll post up here for a bit. These are my most recent pieces, from a series that I'm working on. They're different from the others because I'm working on this nice, hard cardboard. It's close to masonite, but is more absorbent and has this nice paper bag quality to it.

I'm really looking to get a fresh way of working with these. I want them to group with my previous body of work, while at the same time be distinctive. I like what they look like together, so far (there are about 8 or so). So, we'll see how this one goes. The subject matter in each is more of the same - flat horizon line, free form concepts.


Take care,

Andrew

Power Rangers!

So, this piece was one where I started using pencil pretty extensively in the painting, and really just trying to accentuate the way that the medium acts, separate from the paint. This is also one of the first where I actually use hand-written text.

As for the content, I just got carried away and had fun with it. I had five little objects down at the bottom. So, I decided to paint a lightning bolt and paint them their individual colors. The speech bubbles were kind of an afterthought, but really help the composition along.

As for the surface, I love the presence of the wood. It's pretty large and pretty deeply set against the wall. I think it's 2 inches deep. It's a clunky piece of wood, and I'm curious to see how it looks with everything else.


Take care,

Andrew

This is also one of my favorite pieces from this year. It has a nice, small size, and I just really enjoy the colors. I also like how much I worked the medium into the piece. Everything in the piece is on the same level, which is nice. The pencil has the same quality as the paint. Everything is just rich.

Nice.


Take care,

Andrew

This is another one of my smaller pieces. Like the others, it's really simple in its execution and is really meant as an exercise in conveying my way of working to a smaller scale. Even more than that, I've found that I like the finished quality of these small pieces. It's almost like it's more fun to hold them in your hand than look at them. They're a lot like matchbox cars, in that respect. Go figure.

Maybe I'll start painting matchbox cars...


Take care,

Andrew

This is a mailbox vomiting. Let me know at any time in these posts if you need me to go further into detail with how it was made, why it was made, etc. For now, this is a sick mailbox.


Take care,

Andrew

This is one of my favorite pieces from this year. I like the surface I worked on (which, as you can tell from the scan, is quite difficult). I like the simplicity of color. I also like the way that I handled to figures in a subtractive, scraping way. I just really like this piece and I don't think I have much more to say about it.

I found the wood in my basement in Easton. It was really old and called for a lot of gesso to keep it from fragmenting under my brush.


Take care,

Andrew

This one also needs its levels fixed. Sorry about that. This piece is the estranged cousin of the "W P P" series. It's really just kind of weird. I like the colors and the content, for the most part. When I first finished it, I hid it away for months. I just don't think I was ready to look at it, yet. It's just really strange, but I like it. There are some wonky parts that fall down. There are some spots that are somewhat transparent, but, on the whole, I like this one. It's just really strange.


Take care,

Andrew

Speaking of loud skies, this is one of my later pieces from last semester, also. I like this one because I'm really just cutting loose and playing with color. Even more than that, I like it because I can't distinguish - in some spots - which layer of color is over which other layer of color. I didn't spend a whole lot of time on this one, but there was some pretty intensive layering going on.

This is also from the "W P P" series. The figures I intentionally left kind of scratchy and nondescript.


Take care,

Andrew

This piece is also a "W P P" piece. Here, I had to knock back the colors. What started as a deliberate attempt to create the most local color I could ended up being pretty obnoxious. I didn't like how lame it looked. So, I knocked it back with some variation.

Once I had the ground plane and sky where I wanted it, I almost literally dotted those red things on there in a matter of minutes, without much thought. I like the way this one turned out. That crack is nice. I also like the quality of clouds and the richness of the sky, in general. You won't see me using that loud blue too often. I usually go for a softer approach.


Take care,

Andrew

Another of the "white primer plank" pieces, this one really didn't scan all that well; but, what can you do? The yellow of the background is this really punches, strange, light yellow, and it's only accentuated by the items in distress at the bottom.

One thing to note here is that this was one of my last pieces of the fall semester, but, admittedly, I've started arranging these posts by grouping the surfaces. Sorry. I'm scatterbrained, even in this.

Anyways, there isn't too much to note about this one. I'm using color sparingly but with an intellect to which, exact color I want to use. Also, the figures in this one are the way in which I've come to draw figures, even now. I saw no point in fine-tuning the way a figure looks, if I'm painting or drawing them that small. Even beyond that, I think there's a nice quality to it. I also started using strange speech bubbles. I have since stopped using them, but I might go back to them.


Take care,

Andrew

I really like this one. It's come a long way from its start, and it's probably one of the only pieces that I've come back to more than five times. Funnily enough, I started this one in a rush, trying to get that one, last piece in before class at 12:30. It started as just clouds, light, and a ground plane, but I liked it immediately.

I feel like the decisions made since then, though somewhat without meaning, really bring everything together.

This is one of the "white primer plank" pieces.


Take care,

Andrew

I've decided that I'm going to stop titling these posts, at least for now. I mean, this site automatically uses my first sentence. Why bother?

Anyways, I thought that I would throw this strange one in the mix. It's really weird. I started with the ground plane, then the tunnel, then the cavern. It took me a while and a couple break to actually think of what to put in there. Of course, a sneaker should go in the hole.

What I like most about this piece is the color, which didn't come over so great through the scanner. Rest assured, however, that the colors are pretty vital. I might be able to fix that with a levels adjustment.

I feel like reference for the sneaker would've ruined the piece, but maybe not. I like the way I basically molded and sculpted the tunnel and hole into this one. You can probably see the scrape markings.


Take care,

Andrew

Oops! I almost forgot this piece! This piece is the one that was meant to follow that horizontal, trapezoidal piece!

One thing to note about this piece is that the color that I used for the background is not normally in my paintings. That color, which I do enjoy greatly, is usually found in the paintings of my friend K.C. Lee. I had an urge to use it one night. So, I did. I like the results. I feel like it's the closest in being as loud as my cadmium red.

So, this is a person at a mailbox, if you can't see that. It's pretty obscured by it's size, but I like it. It looks great, when hung with the rest of 'em.


Take care,

Andrew

More sky chairs?

This is the other "301 wood" piece. It's also one of my favorite pieces from this year, especially in terms of how I handled the sky and ground plan. It's also one of my few horizontal formatted pieces. Besides that, there isn't too much to tell about this. At this point in the year, I was getting ready for the first show and I was being more intensive about preparing the wood to paint on it - multiple layers of gesso, ample dry time, etc. So, some of these are lacking wood grain, for that reason.

To digress a bit, I'm not sure what ultimately drives me to paint the skies the way that I do - the decisions to make it colorful or gray or full of clouds or flat. It's really just a reaction to my immediate visual memory. So, if I recently saw a nice sunrise or sunset, I'll repeat it in a painting. If it's been raining for days, the sky will be gray. I guess that's my explanation for that one - not that you really asked for it. You got it anyways, though.


Take care,

Andrew

This is another piece that I have to fix the levels on. Also, it's one of the few - well, two - pieces that I have scanned that are from the "I took this piece of wood from 301" series. I saw this piece of wood and knew that it would either be really easy to work on or something of a challenge.

It turned out to be really easy, when I didn't think too much about it. Actually, I remember with this one wanting to pool my transparent gesso in the holes and then back-light it. The gesso ended up cracking, though. So, that was a no-go. I still want to do that, though.

In any case, I really need to fix the levels, because this piece has some of my favorite colors in it. It's also quite primary. I think I was thinking about Van Allsburg when I drew the boats in there. I have "Wreck of the Zephyr", which is probably one of my favorites by him.


Take care,

Andrew

Blue!

I thought that I'd cover this piece next, mainly because it's so mysterious, even to me. I can't remember when, exactly, I did it. I also can't remember where I got the wood. What I do remember is that I had a thought about cadmium red, and how I never really use any punchy cool colors.

So, that's basically what this is - a fun experiment in using a loud blue, and letting the rest of the piece be something free-form. I still don't see it as effective as that damned red, but it's close. It has a nice, vibrant quality. I think I could've been more sparing with it, though - really make it pop by using very little of it. Who knows? I can try again, later. I like this piece, though. That flying brain is hard to spot, but fun when you do.


Take care,

Andrew

This is the brother piece to that shark piece. I mean "brother" in the sense that was in the same batch of wood. I associate the pieces that I do with the wood that they came from. I have a "shingle" series, a "white primer plank" series, a "I took this from 301's wood shop" series, and - this - the "I can't remember where I got them, but I only got two pieces" series. I think these came from my house.

In any event, I don't really like this piece. I don't really like what I did with the sky. I think I got lazy with it and marked it finished too early. I tried fixing the ground plane with graphite, but that only made my efforts look even more transparent.

I like the piece of wood, though.


Take care,

Andrew

We're going to need a bigger boat...

I like this piece. It's simple and is an example of me really playing with the surface of the wood. I know that I said that I didn't intend to use clever conventions, but I also said that I fail at it with some instances. This is one of those instances. I think it's quiet enough a use to let pass.

To balance that out, I really just enjoy the size of this piece and the way that it was cut. I didn't cut it. I don't cut any of the wood I work on. I want to eliminate any sort of planning that could come from that. Because of that, I end up getting pieces like this, that are a weird size and are definitely not square. I end up with mistake cuts like the one on the bottom, and the piece of wood is altogether made more distinctive. I like it.


Take care,

Andrew

Wait, is that perspective? I don't use that...

This piece is among my larger pieces. Not only that, but I consider this piece to be one of the more cohesive in terms of actually hinting at some sort of underlying story. The environment is somewhat creepy, but altogether unsurprising. It's a lifesaver in what, as opposed to a chair in the sky, etc.

I like this piece, though. I feel like I really started getting a feeling for layering color confidently and unexpectedly, which is cool. Not only that, but I used india ink much like I would paint. So, I like the effect I got. Again, I'm doubling back and contradicting myself - another successful ink piece! How will you ever believe me, after that? You'll just have to trust me, I guess.

I have to fix the levels on this image. It's a lot brighter, and that gray on that bright yellow is too awesome.


Take care,

Andrew

"Is that a blue wave?"

At a certain point, I decided to take all of the broken, interesting pieces of wood from my pile of scraps and use them for paintings. At first, it was more just playing around - color studies, I guess you could call them; but I ultimately ended up liking them as paintings.

With this one, I'm really just thinking about a painting I did in my sophomore year and just running with that motif. All the while, however, I have no real end in mind. I'm just playing with how my way of working reacts with the wood and the shape of the surface.

I love this piece, but this (and the next post's piece) make hanging my work extremely tough to arrange. Triangles are the pieces that make or break the setup.


Take care,

Andrew

Last one before bed...

I originally thought that I had scanned these images so that the file-size would be somewhat uniform. As you can see, I was a bit off in that respect. In any case, these are grouped with that loud, red piece in being the smallest pieces in the overall series. They're certainly the smallest series I have.

I like these because they forced me into a smaller surface. Through that, I was allowed to really push the limits of my conveying my style and way of working to a smaller surface. I like them, because, even though they are extremely small (about an inch and a half tall), they still feel like one of my larger paintings. Besides that, I just like the primary colors. I feel that you can be equally successful with with using primaries to using complementaries - if not, more so. I think that hints at the enjoyment I get from using every color in every painting, and helps to fill out a sort of naturalness of light within the painting. What's local color if you use every color?


Take care,

Andrew

How could I forget the sky ladder?

How could I forget the sky ladder? Oh, how I wish I could. Well, I shouldn't really say that, because I do like some things about this piece. Ultimately, however, I feel that this holds hands with the balancing act piece. In the falls down in the same, essential way that the balancing act falls down, except that it's in a more complex form. The balancing act is a simple use of a transparent concept on top of fun, successful way of working, while this is that use of transparent concepts, but more plentiful in the actual number of elements. It's almost like I was too scatter-brained for my own good, and funneled that into my work in a wonky way.

Nonetheless, it's part of a process. So, I love it. Per usual, I enjoy the sky and the ground-plane. I might just take the ladder and the balloons out. Maybe I'll just scrap the balloons. I kind of like the ladder, too.

Also, as a brief aside, I've just realized that you can click on the image to get a larger version. I thought about going back and editing my posts to act like I knew what was going on, but where's the fun in erasing your mistakes?



Take care,

Andrew

The sky-chair! How could I forget?!

I don't really call this one "The sky chair", but it's a good way of remembering which one it is. Admittedly, this one is proof that I'm not being very chronological with these posts, as this was done way before the car farm and even before the spaceship one. Of course, I could be getting that wrong - how confusing.

Nonetheless, this is one of my smaller works and is what I consider to be one of my more comfortable pieces. I still haven't completely broken loose with my color and the way I'm going about working the piece, but I'm having fun. I'm painting to paint, not really giving a whole lot of thought as to where the "end" of the piece is.

A funny thing to note about this is the fact that one of the main criticisms that it receives is the lack of intention or mystery surrounding the hole. That's funny, because I consider it's lack of meaning in the piece essential for it being there, if that makes sense. It shows quite well the way that I work through and around the wood, instead of necessarily with it. My argument was that my entire intention was to try to get away from any clever conventions. I fail at avoiding it, sometimes, but it is something I aim for with my way of working.

I later made a piece that quietly emphasized a knothole in the wood. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it. I think I like it. I might actually love it. I usually talk more about things I don't like. I wish I had scanned it. I'll have to get around to it. Who knows?

One final thing to note about this piece is that I painted the sides that nice, cadmium red. I painted the sides of all my pieces before the fall show, but have since stopped doing that. It isn't that I don't like the sides of my pieces painted, but that I haven't gotten around to it. I will, I'm sure. I consider these works being objects to be very important, in terms of how they hang.


Take care,

Andrew

"Balancing Act" is not going to be the working title for this one...

So, this one, like the painting of the car and the farm and the sky and the muddy water paint, is too small. I guess that's something we'll both have to get used to, as the files are a bit larger.

Getting past that for now, this painting was done shortly after my break from wood to canvas. This was also the last I did using dirty water. Although, I could be wrong. Again, ignorance is bliss - you won't know.

Around this time I started getting comfortable with the new way I was working. I had a way of applying the paint to the wood, I had a certain motif, in terms of the colors I used, etc. I enjoy this piece, but not as much as most of my others. The reason for that is that this is basically the epitome of the danger of my way of working. I'm figuring things out: how to work, what things to employ, etc. etc. At a certain point, it's borderline a type of math, which I think rings through here. I know what I like seeing in a picture. I know how to do it, for the most part. So, when it comes time for the picture to actually depict something, I get lazy and use simple compositional tricks and simple solutions. I like it, but not as much as most. It's what I want to avoid.

I like the sky, though.


Take care,

Andrew

That is a Death Star, yes.

One thing that I should note is that, while posting these, I'm really trying to keep some sort of chronological order going, considering that I do want to illustrate the gradual process that has taken me from September to now. I'm sure I'll get some spots wrong, but you'll never know that. Ignorance is bliss.

Anyways, this is a Death Star and a banana. I decided to go back at one point and give canvas another try. I like the way that this came out a lot, and I loved the process, but have since had trouble warming up to canvas. It just isn't the same consistency that I'm comfortable with.

This one is somewhere around 10 inches wide, I believe. It isn't too large. Then again, I have few large pieces - something I'm going to change soon, I assure you.

That's no moon...



Take care,

Andrew

Why a farm and a car? Who knows?

I really have to get around to cropping that white bar out of this image...

Anyways, I like painting skies. There's something about the free-form nature of clouds, light, and air that accommodates my way of working. It's probably the easiest link of my visual memory to my hand. The same could be said about the way that I handle landscapes, but that's more basic, I think.

This piece was the result of my snagging some wooden shingles from my house in Easton and just pumping out a large volume of pieces in a short amount of time. More than that, it was one of the later pieces of the "shingle" series. By that time, my water (which I usually neglect) had become muddy from failed india ink attempts and my poor care for my steel pens (I'm one of those jerks that just rinses it in my water cup, instead of buying de-ink solutions). While working on this piece - with the understanding of what was happening to my color because of the muddy water - I came to enjoy limiting the range of colors and brightnesses I could achieve. I ran with that for a while, but have since come back to enjoying the options provided by having clean water and a limitless supply of colors at my disposal. Go figure.

I wish this image was a little larger, so you could appreciate the surface I worked through. It's about a foot and a half tall, to give you some sort of perspective on its scale.


Take care,

Andrew

That damned cadmium red and that damned worm

After posting that last blog, keeping in mind the piece that it was about and the devices mentioned, it's funny to bring these two up, because, with the last piece, I ended up breaking the bottom of the plank of wood intentionally and then painting on it. I like the effect so much that I used it for these two.

One thing to note is that all of the paintings I'll post up here have no real sketch phase. Although, now I use a sketch phase for general ideas. When I paint, I usually just jump into it and really try to just paint, instead of planning everything out and using tricks to get there. I'll have an initial concept, but it changes by the end of it, which I like.

Anyways, these two pieces are funny to me because they really emphasize the two devices I talked about in the last post. The red one is not only the loudest of my pieces (because of that cadmium red), but also one of my smallest, only being about 1"x1". When all of my pieces are hanging together, that one is the absolute loudest, which I find awesome. The worm one is funny because I consider it to be the only one of my pieces that uses ink that actually uses it, if that makes any sense. I can't really imagine a better medium for that worm, and, beyond that, I can't imagine having the courage now to try that again. So, that one holds a special spot in my body of work. It's also pretty small, but not worth talking about in that respect.

Another brief note: I don't really title my pieces. That isn't because I want them all to be mysteriously "untitled", but because I just haven't thought of titles for them. I'd probably just end up naming them very plainly or very in a very strange and very personal manner. I'm sure I'll get around to it.


Take care,

Andrew

Space: Above and Beyond was such a great show...

Running in the vein of my early pieces meant for shows that I, for some reason or another, never handed in to show: this is one of my early pieces meant for a show that I, for some reason or another, never handed in to show. I usually hear about shows along the grapevine and usually, altogether too late.

Nonetheless, I like this piece because of the red. I love using cadmium colors because they are just really, really loud. They can make your piece worth a damn and I have yet to get bored of the effect. In any case, here, I've already come to terms with the fact that I like working on wood and that it's more accommodating for my tendencies to use dry brush. Canvas is nice, but it lacks this element of surprise that wood has. Paper is the same way, unless it has a wacky tooth to it. I like happy accidents and wood just does that for me.

A brief aside to this one is that I used india ink - something that you won't see a lot in my later work, as I made a switch to pencil. I still have yet to pin down the reason for it. I think it has something to do with ink being extremely final and loud, where pencil can just kind of hang out on the painting. I like being loud with color, but not with line. Go figure.


Take care,

Andrew

Four out five ain't bad, I guess.

So, these are what I would call the first of my year-long series, where I'm really just playing around with the medium. Even more than playing, I'm discovering more the colors I like to use, the surfaces I prefer, and the compositions that I'm comfortable with. From there, I was able to really test my boundaries, in terms of what I'm comfortable with.

As an aside: "chorizo" is not only a form of sausage, but is also the character name of a shaman who I play with in World of Warcraft. My friends and I think it's funny to incorporate other people's names in our work. Why restrict the names of the people we know virtually?

There is a fifth to the series that was missing when I went to scan them. They were all originally meant for a small works' show at my school, but I ultimately decided not to hand them in for show.


Take care,

Andrew

To preface:

The work that will initially show up in this blog is special to me in the sense that it is the most important work that I've done in terms of coming to realize what I want to do with my artwork - the way I want to work, what subjects I want to deal with, how much I want to work, how much I want to repeat myself or not at all, etc. - and, more importantly, how all of that plays its role in who I am as a person - how exactly it's important to me that I find enjoyment in my work and how exactly important it is to me that other people enjoy it as well. Which, I should say: I do hope you enjoy the work that I post here.

I consider this work to be a mapping of the person I am, day to day; a reflection of my visual memory that shows the things that I like seeing and repeating in paint and pencil (or pastel, or oils, or watercolor, or collage, or sculpture, or doodles in class, or digital work, etc. etc. etc.), the things that I find funny or dire or happy or just altogether interesting by themselves. It's a process that I hope will continue to keep my motivation high and enthusiasm for creating never-ending. I'm pretty confident, in that respect, that I've created for myself a way of working that will not only keep me interested, but will also keep others interested; if for nothing but the intensity at which I scrutinize my own work and way of working, despite never really worrying about what people feel about it.

It's an evolving process and I can only hope that the work I'll submit to this blog will shake and move over time, push and pull and repeat itself, all the while keeping that sense of myself and my hand that I find interesting.


Take care,

Andrew