Want the Change

Dare to become the Wind, oil on canvas (in process), 36 x 36 in

Today was not about meditation and contemplation.  Today was about wanting change, being brave and being bold.  Okay, the prussian blue may be a bit much, but there is a great energy in these clouds that I really like.  I've been considering painting a new series for a bit now, and while the ideas jingle about in my head and I try to wrap the source and form up into a neat package--I've continued painting my Rilke inspired landscapes.  This one took on a life of its own by sheer nature of how the paint and medium interacted.  Instead of making it into what I had intended it to be, I let it speak out loud.  Quite possibly this was the result of reading a writing by Rilke over and over this past weekend.  Oh to approach each painting session with the mantra of embracing the unknown with all its insecurities instead of "locking oneself in sameness".

Dare to become the wind.

Want the change. Be inspired by the flame

where everything shines as it disappears.
The artist, when sketching, loves nothing so much
as the curve of the body as it turns away.

What locks itself in sameness has congealed.
Is it safer to be gray and numb?
What turns hard becomes rigid
and is easily shattered.

Pour yourself like a fountain.
Flow into the knowledge that what you are seeking
finishes often at the start, and, with ending, begins.

Every happiness is the child of separation
it did not think it could survive. And Daphne, becoming a laurel,
dares you to become the wind.

Sonnets to Orpheus
Part Two, XII
translated by Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy

Sharon & Curt's Modern Art-sy Craftsman

Just like the cobbler's children who have no shoes, for a long while my walls at home were void of artwork.  This was partly attributable to a move to a century old house whose walls crumbled with every pound of the hammer.  This settling in an old house so that we could live the walkable urban life also coincided with having a large studio|gallery of walls to fill.  When I moved out of that studio space this past Spring and was forced to clean closets and such, my home became the recipient of various odds and ends of my phases of art--a virtual monograph of my 5 years painting since art school.  From flirtations with still life to abstraction to figurative work, these pieces are now hung on my walls.  I do not "own" any of my Reading Rilke atmospheric landscape paintings-- the focus of my work for the past two years.  These paintings have all sold or are currently hanging in galleries;  a sacrifice I make in order to pay the studio rent and the expenses of my art practice.  Here are the odd lots that occupy my home spaces--for now.  This will feel a bit like a house tour at apartment therapy for any of you that are addicted to that site.  I do have a small collection of works by other artists, but I'll save that art tour for another day.

A flirt with abstraction, 2009

A pastel of pillows 2009

Group thinking pears, 2008

A tryptic of boxes, 2008

Paintings In a Gallery

It seems my paintings are rarely seen on these pages in a gallery setting or after "placement".  Here are some photos from a current exhibition in Seattle at Art with a Heart Gallery. Mike and Jack have bravely endeavored to create a new gallery space in the Pioneer Square District of Seattle with the mission of inclusiveness and mentoring artists who live with challenges such as autism.  A new exhibit will be installed at AWAH Gallery for next week's First Thursday and a few of my paintings along with the other gallery artists' works will share the space with some interesting metal sculptures.  View here

A wall of my atmospheric paintings

What waits within me and What you cannot hold

Nimbus Grey with Phoenix (Michael Magrath)

A Gentle Binding and Releasing  SOLD

Pigment Sticks and Fingertips

Too Vast To Be Contained, oil and pigment stick on canvas, 30 x 40 inches, Sharon Kingston

It would most certainly help if I had something other than my iphone camera to photograph the paintings for these blog postings (hint, hint), but I'll go ahead even though some of the detail has been lost.  As most oil painters will attest to,  we have a love affair with our materials and specific brands of paint--I adore R&F pigment sticks.  (Dakota Art in Bellingham carries them, or you can visit the online store to order direct from R&F here)  Pigment with some linseed oil, and soft and fabulous like butter.  And, they smell fantastic.  They are like a large crayon of oil paint which allows you to draw on your surface and if you're like me--rub with your finger.  The ultimate in finger painting. 

Because my surfaces are so precious, I only ever use the pigment sticks in the final stages of a painting--and then most often in the foreground to give that sense of mass and detail that is an important balance to the amorphousness of the rest of the painting.  This 5 inch segment at the bottom was pushed and pulled and rubbed for an entire 7 hour painting session yesterday.  It still has areas that need work, but now that I've laid down the pigment sticks, it'll have to wait.  All good things have issues--and drying time is one big one with this material.  Check the pigment chart for estimated drying times.  Some of the colors will never dry...  See the previous post here for the Rilke Poem that accompanies this painting.

Falling in Love

Detail lower left sky area

Detail upper right sky area

Although I've spent four sessions working on this painting, it is far from complete. For instance, the foreground is completely undeveloped.  But that doesn't mean I'm not starting to fall in love with some areas.  I've been criticized by some for using too little paint.  My argument has always been that when one is working to trap color, light and nuance--too much paint is an enemy.  I'm all about preciousness with what's going on underneath and keeping previous layers visible.  If that means I spend 8 to 10 sessions on a painting because the previous layer needs to dry, well be it.  Today I am enamored with the little cloud section on the lower left--hardly articulated, but you want to spend time there before moving through the rest of the painting.  And if you spend enough time you'll find my second love, the veined atmosphere in the upper right where some of the warm tones from the underpainting and blue veins of the second layer are revealed through the veiling of the white.  Yes. This is what I pay attention to.

A Painting and a Poem for Today

Too Vast to be Contained (In process) , Oil on Canvas, 30 x 40 in
Sharon Kingston 2011

We may yearn to come to rest
in some small piece of pure humanity
a strip of orchard between river and rock
But our heart is too vast to be contained there.
We can no longer seek it in a place.

from the Second Duino Elegy
Rainer Maria Rilke

I've given myself permission this month to paint real places.  To paint from a photograph.  To take a rest from the imagined spaces and find a strip of orchard to rest.  No challenges except to just paint and be content with what is happening on the canvas.  This is a time of transition for me and I think that I need to enter into a safe place and take some of the anxiety out of the process.  And to just enjoy my new space and the wonderful light and see where it all leads me. Not to be contained for long, though.  I'm working some things out in my imagination.

This is a view from above looking out.  Lots of interesting things going on under the surface.  Still evolving, but I love so much the sentiment of the poem with the painting that I wanted to post it today.

A Year With Rilke: Paintings & Poetry & Blogs

Moscow During the Winter, by Leonid Pasternak

Silenced with Unspeakable Hope, by Sharon Kingston
oil on canvas, 36 x 36, private collection
a painting inspired by the words of Rilke

I recently discovered a blog that couples a piece of art with a Rilke poem for every day of the year, based upon the book A Year With Rilke--translations by Joanna Macy and Anita Barrows.  The paintings or sculpture are by Rodin, van Gogh, Cezanne, and Pasternak; artists who all had associations with Rilke.  I thought it might be fun to occasionally compare one of my paintings inspired by Rilke's words next to the art chosen by the blog's authors for the same poem.  I'll begin with one of the first paintings I created in the Reading Rilke Series back in December of 2009. This painting evolved from a photograph of LaPush taken by my friends Kristin & Hugh during a vacation to the Olympic Peninsula late summer of 2009.  As the Olympic National Forest is considered one of the quietest places on earth--it is appropriate to have this place inspire the painting titled Silenced with Unspeakable Hope.   

It seems
our own impermanence is concealed from us.
The trees stand firm, the houses we live in
are still there. We alone
flow past it all, an exchange of air.

Everything conspires to silence us,
partly with shame,
partly with unspeakable hope.

From the Second Duino Elegy


Ruth at A Year with Rilke Blog says this about Rilke and Pasternak.

Un, deux: The Peace of Wild Things Inspires Them Both.

Where the Great Heron Feeds II, 24 x 24 in, oil on canvas
Atmospheric Landscape Painting by Sharon Kingston
Inspired by the Peace of Wild Things, a poem by Wendell Berry

I have on occasion created two paintings exploring the same concept/composition/palette/poem.  Usually a big and small version so that I can noodle out issues on the smaller canvas when I'm feeling intimidated by the big one.  The same group of reference photos were used and, in this case, the same poem by Wendell Berry.   The couples are never direct copies of each other, but carry the same sense of the landscape that correlates to what I'm attempting to express from the poem.  I inevitably will adore some aspect in each painting which might seem inconsequential to the viewer, but because I created two paintings at once there was the opportunity for me to compare. The larger painting "un" is being framed as we speak for donation to a school and the "deux" at left was just completed in my new studio.  I love the yummy green that resulted from mixing two very unconventional colors and the old world feeling I get when experiencing this painting.  This is created from layers of glazes in the same way that those old guys we love from the Renaissance painted.  It is the square format that gives this landscape a modern appeal.   This painting is going up on the wall outside my new studio next week, so do call me and stop by for a view and a hello.  I'm finally ready for studio visitors.  360.739.2474.

Where the Great Heron Feeds, 30 x 48 in, oil on canvas
An Atmospheric Landscape Painting by Sharon Kingston
Inspired by the Peach of Wild Things, a poem by Wendell Berry

Distance and Depth

Seeking the Inner Depth of Things, 18 x 18 in, oil on canvas
An atmospheric and abstract landscape by Sharon Kingston
Inspired by the poetry of Rainer Maria Rilke

Three years ago in May 2008 I signed a 3 year lease at Bay Street Village for a 1200 square foot gallery studio space.  My intent was to teach art to elementary age children and paint in the space.  That first summer I did just that and at the same time moved my family into a new home.  Lots of turbulence that summer.  And before I had settled down and gotten a handle on the whole running my own business thing, the economy slid into this never ending recession.  I don't think I ever stopped redefining my business after that.  But I stuck it out until March of this year when my good friend Kat launched her own studio/gallery in the space.

I owe loads of gratitude to Wade Marlow, the 30 year owner of Blue Horse Gallery,  for ever encouraging me and sharing his wisdom.  I thank the wonderful local artists for adopting my business plan and "buying" my walls so that I could keep the gallery going and continue to have a work space.  I treasure the friendships of the fellow tenants and artists at Bay Street Village and the laughter they brought into my days--when we were all trying to make sense of the new state of the economy.  My elementary art students and their parents inspired me to be a better teacher--and kept the space alive with energy.  And most of all, I thank those fabulous art patrons--many of them art walk attendees--who watched my development, offered me support and shared their responses to my work--and bought my paintings.  In the nearly three years I was in the space, I sold over 80 pieces of original artwork.

As I wind down my tenure in the space--I have 2 more First Fridays to exhibit in the loft area at 301 W Holly--I recognize what a fabulous experience it was for me despite the angst I had over making a go of it and then the really hard decision of determining whether I wanted to continue with the venture.
The takeaway is that this experience and the financial commitment were instrumental in helping me develop a dedicated practice.  I painted 5 days a week consistently.  I exhibited and defended my work continuously.  It was this stretching and putting myself out there--even in my embryonic state--that accelerated my understanding of who I am as an artist.  I do believe my work developed in both depth and breadth--meaning and method--because of it all.

This month I have my first exhibit in Seattle.  As one door closed, another did open.  We must all continue to have faith that opportunities will present themselves--and if prepared, one can grasp the offerings.

Shining in the Distance, 18 x 18 in, oil on canvas
An atmospheric & abstract landscape
Inspired by the Poetry of Rainer Maria Rilke

From Rilke's Letters to a Young Poet

 Seek the inner depth of things, and when they lead you to the edge of a great discovery, discern whether it arises from a necessity of your being. Either this discovery will strike you as superficial and you will shed it, or it will reveal itself as intrinsic to you and grow into a strong and honest tool of your art.