A Different Lens

As artists, we train ourselves to respond to all that surrounds us. Everything is art!
We develop a heightened sense of color, of light, or composition, etc.  We train ourselves to look at the world through a different lens.  As artists our lens sees the wonders of the world, both large and small, in a different way. We have filters that make our lens one of a kind.  Our filters are an addition to the lens that gives our view a unique voice. Filters can be our culture, age, interests and so on. But this lens and the filters bring into focus things that others miss.  Snapshots of moments that are gone in an instant, but will remain in our art.  And a small part of those images, those glimpses of the magnificent to the mundane, we then document by making art that reflects how we see the world through our particular lens and filters.

One of my filters is a love of nature. I love plein air painting and being in nature as I try to capture some small bit of it's beauty.  For a few years now I've been looking less at the broad landscape and more to the small, less obvious wonders of nature.  We have an old orchard turned park near our house that is part of our walking path.  I love this little park and its very old apple, crab apple and walnut trees, yet I've never painted it. Each spring we are dazzled by the showy trees loaded with white, pink and red flowers.  Summer comes and the trees become a backdrop to the pond, standing in long rows that have lost some of their soldiers.  Late summer bears the fruit that hangs from the trees which,depending on the year, can be abundant or sparse. In autumn, the leaves turn and fall, as do the walnuts and some apples that the birds didn't eat.  Winter brings bare trees. Stripped of their leaves the orchard stands naked and we see the trees for who they are without the leaves that clothe them. Those magnificent beauties, weathered over time.  I love bare trees.  (I have always, for as long a I can remember, had a fascination with bare trees.) There is something about this orchard with the old, twisted trunks of the apple trees, the rough bark hanging on to a new snow on a quiet morning walk. The beautiful skeletons you can only see in winter.  And that's the big, glorious, magnificence of the little orchard.

And then there are the smaller wonders of the little orchard.  After a walk the other day my husband brought home some crab apples and left them on the counter.  He likes to eat the sour little devils.  I've made jam with crab apples  before, but I consider them pretty much worthless, except as food for the birds.  But there on the counter, the sun hit those little crab apples and I was struck by how amazing they were!  Bathed in light, these miniature apples blushed bright red to pink, to orange with light green on one.The colors were beautiful!  But what really got to me were the curves of the stems.  Two were still joined at the top of each stem where they were attached to the tree before my guy snatched them off. Joined together still, the stems arching toward one another, I thought "I have to paint that!"  And out came the paints and brushes!

I didn't capture the colors, the light or the feeling I got when I noticed them calling to me.   I drew the stems until I had their graceful curves just right.  I looked carefully at each apple and attempted to give each its unique shape, because one had a particularly funky flat side that I loved. The paint glided across the page and moved with the water in old familiar ways.  I painted them again, wanting to do them justice, these little marvels of nature.  One sketch has warmer shadows and one cooler. The second painting was better in some ways and yet I was still not able to convey what I saw and felt.  But it didn't matter. What matters is when you, the artist, respond to something so strongly that you simply must paint it.  And after your done, it's the experience you had, not necessarily the finished product that has value. What is left is that snapshot of a moment in time. 

So it's not whether you paint the whole orchard or three small crab apples that counts.  What counts is that you paint what moves you.  Learn to identify the lens and filters of your artistry and make art that only you can make.  Because only you have that particular lens and those particular filters that make your art special. What is your lens, what are your filters?  Use that to look for something that calls to you. Forget the finished product and enjoy the process. Enjoy the moment. You are documenting something in slice of time in a way no one else can. Listen to what calls to you and try to capture the feeling, the light, the color, whatever speaks to you. Identify those things and you have focus and so will your art.  Now go make some art!