ESSAY 2D Gestural Painting
<<BACKANGELS SING
47” x 22” Acrylic on canvas
Robecca Quammen Art Collection
Part of a series of new, gestural paintings, Angels Sing was created during months of immersed studio work. During this time my traditional, lighter, ethereal canvasses transformed through a creative shift to dark, mysterious palettes with soft, light colored movements atop, as shown in Angels Sing.
Angels Sing was commissioned and titled by Becky and Chip Quammen for their 2007 corporate Christmas card. Seeing an angel within the lilac brush movement in the center of the painting spoke to them as a universal message of inspiration and hope.
Reflecting—my painting style is an intuitive process. I rely on gut instinct for color mixing and executing bold, decisive brush marks. Coupled with an insatiable appetite for unpredictable and creative accidents, I also rely on traversing between analysis and “empty moment” or Zen “no-mind”—in essence my job is very much a steward for the muse. At times I still challenge myself about intuition, the soft quiet voice, a hunch, gut instinct, then somewhere in that moment a recurring thought—sometimes showing up is enough, voila, the muse arrives. I laugh a lot at myself.
Essay revised August 1, 2021 | Originally published 2007
47” x 22” Acrylic on canvas
Robecca Quammen Art Collection
Part of a series of new, gestural paintings, Angels Sing was created during months of immersed studio work. During this time my traditional, lighter, ethereal canvasses transformed through a creative shift to dark, mysterious palettes with soft, light colored movements atop, as shown in Angels Sing.
Angels Sing was commissioned and titled by Becky and Chip Quammen for their 2007 corporate Christmas card. Seeing an angel within the lilac brush movement in the center of the painting spoke to them as a universal message of inspiration and hope.
Reflecting—my painting style is an intuitive process. I rely on gut instinct for color mixing and executing bold, decisive brush marks. Coupled with an insatiable appetite for unpredictable and creative accidents, I also rely on traversing between analysis and “empty moment” or Zen “no-mind”—in essence my job is very much a steward for the muse. At times I still challenge myself about intuition, the soft quiet voice, a hunch, gut instinct, then somewhere in that moment a recurring thought—sometimes showing up is enough, voila, the muse arrives. I laugh a lot at myself.
Essay revised August 1, 2021 | Originally published 2007