What’s Your Affinity? I Like Faces.

What’s Your Affinity? I Like Faces.

In a recent post I described artistic affinity and used my attraction to gray as an illustration. This may explain why I don’t grow tired of making faces on pavement year after year, but it doesn’t explain my affinity for found object portraiture. Let me use this space as a workbench to try and figure out how to state the deeper affinities that drive all of my art.

My Affinity

Facial expressions are the language of emotion. As pack animals, we are incredibly good at knowing how someone feels internally by reading their external body language. Notice the common verb reading to describe the process of seeing someone and decoding their emotional state. I love looking at my faces after I have made them and “reading” the emotion they are projecting. I usually have some idea about it in the moment of making it but I work so fast and under such ephemeral conditions, that I don’t spend much time on that part during the making of them. I have a strong intuitive sense I got it, or I might keep going. I know when a face is blah, or worse, inauthenticc. But it’s happening almost unconsciously on my part. I don’t intentionally bring my consciousness to it until I look at later on my computer screen. In this sense, my process accommodates to two versions of my inner artist, the hunter/gatherer and the cook. Each suits my affinities.

The Hunter/Gatherer

I love to walk around and notice things. I love having a task while I do it. The task is called find supplies and find something unique we can use to make a face. I just really really enjoy this. It’s natural and easy. This hunter/gatherer is less interested in what is going to happen to the face that she makes and more interested in just hunting it and gathering it. The thrill is being finely attuned to one’s surroundings.

The Cook

The cook is interested in what has been brought to her. She is selective and is looking for a harmonious combination of good composition, lighting and facial expression. She wants a very definitive emotion to be coming across. The face should suggest a story, a story which explains the emotion. Many faces don’t meet these requirements and don’t get shared. The cook wants to share her creation. The cook is thinking about who will eat her food. She wants to please and delight them. The hunter/gatherer only wants to please the cook.

The Attraction

The attraction is not really towards the object, but rather the adventure and the reward. I feel rewarded by creating an expression. I like people. I like stories. Facial expressions are very short stories told in the medium of the flesh when real and the medium of pavement when I do it. I don’t get bored, or tired, or done with making faces. Each new one delights me. That’s not strictly true. Some faces are too dumb or too irritating. I don’t bother taking photos of those. Or if I do, I don’t share them. So, the most important part of the process is creating an expression that I find fascinating. Most of the time it’s because I relate to the expression but occasionally it’s because I don’t. Either way is acceptable, as long as I feel an attraction.

I enjoy the work of several artists who make designs out of found objects, rather than faces. They are so beautiful. I enjoy seeing their new work every week. I can perceive and appreciate what they are going and yet I feel no compulsion to try it. It’s that compulsion that I think is attached to affinity. It’s something you just can’t stop. Maybe you are only doing it in your head, you haven’t started acting on it, but it’s happening. It’s very hard to get going when there is no affinity. That’s just drudgery. Art must never be drudgery. Art can’t be a drudgery. It’s cancels itself out.

The Orphan Statement

I started this post in September of 2020. Some posts I dash off, mostly if they are about a specific moment in time. But essays about my most deep-seated theories take longer to craft. I am brutal on my writing and throw stuff away constantly. If I think I still need to explore an idea, but it has been removed from its originating paragraph, I add it to the bottom with the idea that I will review it before I finalize the post. The sentence below remains, never incorporated but never rejected. It does not fit into the structure of this blog post, but I think it deserves a moment. If we re-ask the title; What is Your Affinity?, this is a good answer for me:

My affinity is an intersection of my consciousness of being conscious, a sense of mystery and a sense of mortality. When I see something in the bullseye of that triad, I engage with it.

HIIT for Creativity

HIIT for Creativity

Sometime in 2015 I started making 9 inch by 9 inch abstracts with alcohol based markers. I do this activity most weekend nights. Pre-pandemic, I would also socialize but I usually make about one a week. I haven’t counted my output but it’s a lot.

Maybe a year ago the supplies were organized, markers separated by colors into three containers (warm, cool and neutral), finished work dated and put in box. Now there are many containers with no categorization. Worse, there are four pads of paper, each holding undated finished pieces, some that still have the tape I use to hang them while working. A few are quite good. One I felt should be framed and hung. How had it gotten so neglected? One was stunningly bad. Color selection is atrocious. Why put baby blue with so many warms tones? Composition is maybe the worst ever. The opposite of harmony. Looking at it is like eating a lunch of leftovers from three culturally distinct meals, spaghetti with seaweed salad and a few bites of burrito. That one is never going into the box!

I was noticing all of this as I set up last night. It made me a little uneasy. What is all this about? my mind demanded to know. What exactly are you doing here? What’s the point? You’re awfully messy. If you can’t even preserve the ones you’ve already made, why are you making more?

Ack! I couldn’t put the music on fast enough!

With monkey mind diverted by song I choose some markers and got to it. Ten songs later and a good way into the piece I started pondering again, but with a more enthusiastic perspective. Doing this is practice for everything else. If I can be brave enough to confront a blank piece of paper and not walk away until it’s totally filled, I can do that in other arenas as well. I can do that in my job, which requires a lot of stamina and creative decision making. I can do that in my relationships, which require me to fully be present and open to unknown terrain, some of it quite anxiety producing. By engaging over and over in creative uncertainty, watching it resolve through choice and time, I learn that I am competent to do that. There is almost nothing more useful.

Making one mark after another over and over makes me stronger. It’s a workout for creativity. It’s like a very targeted exercise that uses repetition to build of intuitive muscle matter. Some are good and I feel so grateful. Some are hideous and I hate it. It’s not about getting it right every time, it’s about getting it done and learning from what the finalized piece has to offer.

I like the thoughts I have while making art so much more than the thoughts I have when I am only thinking about making it.

I am a stickler about accuracy and my headline does not match my essay. I didn’t draw a sufficient parallel to High Intensity Interval Training (HIIT). I just used the word as a synonym for workout because Workout for Creativity is Blah! Maybe another time, goodness knows I’ve been known to do a part one and part two of a topic.

Stains. What are they good for?

Stains. What are they good for?

I can’t think of any positive connotation for stain, can you? The word implies degradation, even ruination. Yet I hunt for these spoilers of the pristine. What’s the attraction?

For starters, I can’t add to perfection. If everything was unmarred, unsullied, untainted, unworn it would be like finding myself in a giant art studio with a huge canvas and no paint. There would be nothing to do. Boring!

So as the lowly maggot is to processing waste, I am to soiled pavement, an agent of transformation. Okay, not quite. My contributions are ephemeral and symbolic rather than transformative and pragmatically useful. Nevertheless, as I pass by the same stains week after week, I find that having spent time turning them into little characters I look forward to seeing them again. The stains become like neighbors, friendly ones I wave at rather than blemishes upon some vast field of unbroken conformity. The familiarity makes me feel I’m really here. Their specificity means I could be no where else.

To deeply notice a thing is to change your perception of it. To interact with it is to become intimate. To collaborate with it is to create a bond. That is why art is so transformative. It is like friendship but with a process rather than a person.

I can’t make the world a less blemished place but I can make the stains more fun.