A reader wrote to me the other day with a simple request. She suggested that I incorporate some of my paintings into the blog sometimes, “… and talk about the inspiration, method, series etc.” She added, “I would love it. Especially, of course, of your horse abstracts. Just an idea in case you ever have writer’s block…”
And, oh my, what her idea has unleashed! I wrote about my initial thoughts in the previous post, Is There More to Tell?, in which I came to the conclusion that there is, indeed, a real story to tell–about where I was as an artist BEFORE I came to Truchas and AFTER Truchas. It is a story of fences and horses and grasses and how they changed me. In fact the place has had a profound affect on both my work and, of course, on me. I’ve often said this land is powerful, that I’m not being allowed to live on it passively, that it requires something of me. And it does.
Since coming here I have been stripped down to the barest of essentials, living “skinless” for a time, as I came to call it (see previous post How Do We Grow?). My old ways of being have been shattered and I’ve been asked to pick up the pieces, to put myself back together again in new ways (see previous post Puzzling Myself Back Together Again). That’s definitely an on-going work in progress to be sure. I have dwelt deep within my own interior (see previous post What Is Important in Life?), making friends there, and have been guided to stand still and listen, to see (see previous post What do Artists Know?). I feel quite certain none of this would have happened had I stayed in Utah (see previous post The Long Goodbye), although I do believe the move to Utah from Seattle was critical. In fact I’ve often thought I was opened by Utah so I could be healed in New Mexico. This land is actively helping me do that.
So I’ve been digging through all my old photo files looking for pictures to illustrate this story. And a remarkable thing has happened. For some time now, I’d say for at least a year and a half, probably more, I have been seriously doubting myself as a painter. I figure some of you out there can relate to that, right? In fact I’ve had a tendency to look back on a very successful abstract show I had in Utah as my kind of personal gold standard, one I was no longer able to achieve. In my mind’s eye that show was beautiful. The work shined. And I feared that, perhaps, my best work was behind me.
Since coming to New Mexico, color has steadily worked its way out of my paintings and, again, I was fearful. Was I getting lazy or had I forgotten how to use color? Despite what I’ve told myself about the light of New Mexico washing the color out of my work, about being inspired, instead, by all the contrast that light creates, in the dark times I have had doubts. I felt somehow WRONG about my increasingly black, white and gray paintings. I’ve watched jewel-tone paintings sell like crazy while mine, all too often, sat in the gallery. I’ve worried that my work wasn’t trendy. Why wasn’t my work PRETTY for God’s sake?
But as I looked back through the old files, finding photos I’d forgotten about entirely, this remarkable thing I mentioned above happened: I discovered that I no longer even LIKE most of the paintings from that successful Utah show. They, in fact, helped me see the merit in my current work. Offering a glimpse of my own journey, the one that has taken me from there to here, they seem to also be inspiring a hint of the future–those pieces that are not yet painted, but that I see more clearly now, having visited my past.
In the next unknown number of posts, because I believe my artist’s journey just might inform some of yours, I will tell you all the story of how my work went from this:
… to this:
And yes, dear Sue, I will tell you all about the Horse abstracts.
Love to you all,
Jeane
Jeane – I am excited to see your work – old and new – Wow – what a transformation…. The new work holds all the tones and colors of your photographs – I can see that your artistic self has absorbed your environment – just as the old piece was surely how you dealt with your urban landscape! – Lovely post – I look forward to more…
Thank you Luisa. It’s indeed incredible how much my environment affects my painting–Truchas more than any other place I’ve ever been. I look forward to telling the story as well. We’ll both have to see how it unfolds.
Jeane, both are beautiful. Although I’m a country dweller and have been most of my life, I am very drawn to the colors and photographic precision of your city scape. As always your words and photographs bring me happiness.
Thank you Sunday. I didn’t realize while I was painting them, not until I moved to Utah in fact, how blue and gray my NW scenes were. I came to understand it was because in the NW, the air is infused with water, casting a blue tint over everything–even on sunny days. Bathed in warm light in the SW, my pallet changed entirely.
I’m so happy the words and photos I put together are able to bring you happiness. Thank you. That keeps me going more than you know.
I am a water sign, the fish. I suppose there’s something to it. Funny how much I love Northern New Mexico, though.
Jeane – Your current black/white painting of the tree filled with birds is so powerful. It’s fiercely individual in its simplicity and that’s what resonates with me. Looking forward to learning more about your journey.
Thanks Judith. I think I will have to include the raven series in these posts. I wasn’t thinking of them so thanks for bringing them to mind. And thanks, too, for your kind words.
Amazing work! Each has it’s own charm that will appeal to different people. Your latest work would draw me to it in the gallery rather than the jewel-tone paintings you mentioned. (I love a natural earthy palette). I’m really looking forward to more posts about your artist’s journey.
Thank you Robyn. Not until digging through some photos in a desire to address this reader’s query, did I realize there is so much to tell–even more than I understood while going through the photos. I’m thinking, now, I’ll try to illustrate the various shifts in my work all the way back to Seattle, through Utah, and here to NM. P.S. So glad you’re with me on the neutral colors! Thanks! 🙂
Amazing work indeed! My family has lived in the Garden Home, Oregon Gallery of Jeane George Weigel for years! We live with truthful paintings of my husband, my sons, my mother, my pugs, and a few windows on my city world. I followed her to Utah red dirt onward and upward to the northern New Mexico mountains with a few paintings of Utah red and blues to the earthy abstracts of Truchas with the ravens as my latest. I know it sounds like I am bragging, and I guess I am. I adore every single painting and feel so blessed to have known you for as long as I have. Readers of the blog, I expect you are about to be as amazed as I have been! Enjoy! P.S. your explanation of the “blue” water in the atmosphere…that’s it. Wow.
Dearest Joy–You are the closest I’ve ever come to having a patron. Those first several years after leaving the corporate life, you kept me alive, literally. The fact that you’re not a wealthy person made it all the more meaningful. Thank you for your support, in every way, all these many years (since we were 12).
Do you realize that is a half century ago? Oops…oh who cares? I forgot to mention that I also have the painting that was born 26 years after you had quit painting. Remember? You needed to buy a computer! She graces my living room wall! You know, I was thinking that your paintings are your children of the earth! And you got your angel wings from the saved “three” and four-legged creatures in your home on top of the world!
Disqus is glitching and not telling me when I receive comments, a real problem, so I just stumbled on this one. That painting you mention isn’t the 1st I did after 26 years. It’s the 1 painting I did within that 26 year down time–I think it was about 12 years after college. I never include that one because it kind of confuses the story. But, yes, I remember it well. I painted it when I was living in West Seattle, married to Jim. I quit again after 1 criticism tossed me into self doubt.
Oops again! I guess this painting proves that those who are not artists, i.e. “Jim,” should keep their big opinions unsaid. I believe he was jealous of your ability! Thanks for setting me straight!
Oh dear, dear, dear. I have to correct one more mistake I’m afraid. It wasn’t Jim who dissed the painting. He loved it and was always beyond supportive of my art. It was Aileen, our landlord and friend.
Oh gosh Annie–I didn’t get notification of your note JUST bumped into it by accident. It was sitting in some place waiting to be approved. I’m so sorry! But I’m here now and I’m so happy you you like that painting. Thanks for letting me know. It’s one of my favorites. And, yes, doubt always looms. Writing this series has been good for me–to see the trajectory of my work is giving me a sort of sense of who I am as an artist. I hope by now you’ve seen the various painting history posts.
Your work is lovely, by the way. I particularly love the piece on your home page.
Thank you. I have been following all your posts and I really like the last paintings you posted. I have not been able to leave comments though, not sure why. Just know that I am coming and enjoying your posts very much. I hope Finn is well.
Blessings,
Annie
—– Original Message —–
From: Disqus
To: anniecoeartist@peoplepc.com
Sent: Wednesday, March 06, 2013 11:08 AM
Subject: [highroadartist] Re: Why Aren’ t My Paintings PRETTY For God’ s Sake?
HighRoadArtist wrote, in response to Annie:
Oh gosh Annie–I didn’t get notification of your note JUST bumped into it by accident. It was sitting in some place waiting to be approved. I’m so sorry! But I’m here now and I’m so happy you you like that painting. Thanks for letting me know. It’s one of my favorites. And, yes, doubt always looms. Writing this series has been good for me–to see the trajectory of my work is giving me a sort of sense of who I am as an artist. I hope by now you’ve seen the various painting history posts.
Your work is lovely, by the way. I particularly love the piece on your home page.
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Yes, Disqus glitches sometimes (sort of like FB) as it seems to be doing with this note. Sometimes you will be unable to send comments. My tech partner says there’s nothing to be done about it except to continue to try to leave comments. I do appreciate them always.
I’m assuming you mean the horse paintings in Monday’s post. Thank you. Those pieces were all very powerful for me. Now must wait to see what’s next. I feel something gestating.
Yes, I meant the horses. I will keep trying to leave comments, but I will be coming to read. Happy painting.
Blessing, Annie
—– Original Message —–
From: Disqus
To: anniecoeartist@peoplepc.com
Sent: Thursday, March 07, 2013 9:39 AM
Subject: [highroadartist] Re: Why Aren’ t My Paintings PRETTY For God’ s Sake?
HighRoadArtist wrote, in response to Annie:
Yes, Disqus glitches sometimes (sort of like FB) as it seems to be doing with this note. Sometimes you will be unable to send comments. My tech partner says there’s nothing to be done about it except to continue to try to leave comments. I do appreciate them always.
I’m assuming you mean the horse paintings in Monday’s post. Thank you. Those pieces were all very powerful for me. Now must wait to see what’s next. I feel something gestating.
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Thanks Annie. I’m happy you will continue to read.
I love the paintings of the fences and grasses they are my very favorite. NM does sort of take the color out of things, my work has become more earth tones as well since moving here 18 years ago. Good luck with the coming work.
—– Original Message —–
From: Disqus
To: anniecoeartist@peoplepc.com
Sent: Saturday, March 09, 2013 9:56 AM
Subject: [highroadartist] Re: Why Aren’ t My Paintings PRETTY For God’ s Sake?
HighRoadArtist wrote, in response to Annie:
Thanks Annie. I’m happy you will continue to read.
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Thanks Annie!