Why do social media at all? As an artist, you have to do it artfully, or it won’t work. It has to be authentic, interesting, generous,and beautiful.
Ironically, you can’t take it too seriously. It’s like throwing pebbles into a great sea. You produce a ripple or two. Keep them going and something interesting will come in on the tide, but you can’t predict what or when.
Poem written over dried acrylic mixed media painting by Suzanne Edminster
This is a canvas painting with layers of collage and paint. I had been seeking a pen that wrote with a fluid, varied line on top of textured, dried paintings. The Uni-ball Vision Elite Continue reading →
I’m using this space to intermittently post a few paintings and tell some stories in detail as “Painting Journals.” They are a journey into the space of the work and my own thoughts and process, and an authentic record.
Lost Continent
This painting, Lost Continent, speaks to me of a pre-verbal time. I always remember in the Mary Poppins books that the babies could speak with animals and spirits before they themselves could speak, but lost the ability when they got older. This painting is about that wordlessness. Continue reading →
Thanks, Susan, for posting this. One of our paintings sold! I look forward to seeing local friends in the Symphony Offices on Thursday 5-7 at 50 Santa Rosa Avenue, Santa Rosa.
“Trojan Horse”, 2’X2′ acrylic on canvas, by Suzanne Edminster and I
There’s another chance to see the Four Hands Painting work by Suzanne Edminster and I at the Santa Rosa Symphony offices in downtown Santa Rosa, CA. Also featured are Suzanne’s magical acrylic abstracts. We hope you will join us for the opening, April 4, this Thursday evening at 5-6:30.
Santa Rosa Symphony
50 Santa Rosa Avenue, Suite 410
(In the Bank of Marin building)
Santa Rosa, CA 95404
Turkeys strutting it along the boulevard in front of my urban studio! I’m a lark, an early riser. I swear that you see the most interesting sights in any city in the morning. This fellow was preening, opening his tail, and doing a mating dance for a stopped car as I went early to the studio to prep for my art class.
In Bodrum, Turkey, I saw sheep being driven into the surf at the beach at dawn to wash them off, baaa-ing in the foam. In Naples, Italy at dawn, the gentle sound of sweeping of the stoops and streets in front of the stores fills the air. This meditative cleanup of ancient byways readies space and soul for a new day of commerce. Later in the day this vanishes, filled with shouts, songs, scooters, and swearing. Continue reading →
Small does not mean diminshed intrigue or impact. A good small painting reads big. I remember that in the Denver Art Museum that you could see the Georgia O’Keefe small painting from across a vast room, before we could even identify it as hers. It just shone. I’ve been working on larger pieces for a while now. It’s an interesting lesson: large is NOT small scaled up somehow. The dimension changes meaning. This one will be on display this Saturday.
Confession: the very small works are often traces of projects that lead to larger works for me. My own sense of detail is not robust; I prefer the BIG. Even my handwriting is large and scrawling. I like to work small on paper– it feels more open and free. But sometimes I do “smaller” canvases: 10″ x 10″ is one of the smallest. I like mixed media on smaller canvases to make more of an impact. Everything is small-ized now. Just think of your Iphone and Ipad.
Suzanne Edminster, Days of the Dead, combined media on canvas, 12 x 12 inches
Small can be very expressive. I did the piece above when my dad was diagnosed with cancer. I wanted to make a response that expressed sacrifice and rebirth as his living spirit started to transition. The Little Sun Cow below was just pure play and joy. We all have our art totems. Cosmic and regular cows are mine.
One artist who has a great sense of the small is Susan Cornelis. You can see her latest cool “fossil” smalls here. Come visit me this Saturday, or, better yet, start your own small series. Small can lead to big things. Surprise yourself!
This is the Point Reyes Venus. I did a lot of silly pastel play, the brush gently following an intuitive coastline, based on a dawn I witnessed on Limantour Beach in Point Reyes. I rarely paint from discrete experience any more, so this was a lovely surprise when it was appreciated and sold this week. Take heart, artists, and treasure the “odd children” of your brush.