There's a glow in this one that I love...
I tend to lean toward the darkest darks, call it a weakness...in the places where I keep it light, I try to make the most of the marks I make, I try not to leave too much 'dead air' in there...call it a compulsion, I would do it in elementary school too, I'd fill the entire sheet of paper, edge to edge with something just to make it look "finished".
I once had an adjunct at SU get on my case about my use of dark colors in my work, she even said something ridiculous (naturally out loud so everyone could hear) "Do you have mental problems?" What an ass, right? I was so insulted, I left the classroom, went down the hall to the office, got an Add/Drop form and did the deed. I had had about enough with her long before that comment, I dropped the class to get rid of her negative influence...at the time I was "in love" with the idea of Ad Reinhardt's black paintings, Joseph Albers' Homage to the Square, and Mark Rothko's work, the subtle differences these artists mixed into each color, and then laying them down on the canvas was positively fascinating to me, a chemistry of color. I guess she wasn't "getting it", and I was too immature to really know what I was trying to do with color and having to conform to the curriculum of the class...I was always doing something wrong or something not to someone's liking, thinking beyond the newsprint pad in figure drawing class, finishing the drawings when the prof wanted them to be unfinished...again the compulsive need to fill the sheet with "something", telling a story, giving the figure a room to sit in, something more than a shadow or a chair...always "playing". Man, I was a lousy student. I was always torn between what I wanted to do with my art and what was expected from me...in some cases it was a battle of egos (not that I have an overwhelmingly huge one, but I was tired of being bullied by those who did.) So, I wound up making a bunch of art that I didn't really like during my junior/senior years, I painted these awful things to annoy people, then sat there at critiques in my paint spattered finery, wearing sunglasses, smoking cigarettes, and then having the nerve to say what annoys everyone the most: "It's too personal to talk about"...it was all an act, and I enjoyed every minute of it. Ha ha! I laugh at it now, but I was really bitter back then, I was so disgusted by the experience, it's no wonder I didn't paint much for a long time after graduation. I pretty much had to start over again, and relearn everything.
Thankfully, I'm in a good place with my art now...I'm where I wanted to be back when I was nineteen, and I was a sponge, soaking up information to think about later...experimenting, and playing, going with my personal flow...following my bliss...I'm truly happy with my work.
