untitled

It’s true. I’m awful at naming art. Hello, again, my old friend “Untitled,” more familiar and reliable than any other word in my artist lexicon. It would be far more appropriate to name them things like “I’m Not Totally Happy With The Blue” or “That Didn’t Turn Out How It Looked In My Head” or perhaps “Well, A Deadline Is A Deadline.” Naming often feels contrived to me. I feel as though I’m quite obviously trying to offer a layer of poignant rumination on a probably otherwise not-that-deep painting. Like talking loudly in a coffee shop about which philosopher you’re currently re-reading. Ugh… Gawd.

Untitled is the painting-name equivalent of the Miscellaneous folder. The “i’ll just put this safely here for now until I have time to go back and organize everything.” And I’m beginning to think I’m okay with that. Because I’d venture a guess that Picasso didn’t say to himself, “I think i’m gonna have a blue phase now.” More likely he just got really, really into blue. And the hindsight is what categorizes the works.

So I’m sticking with Untitled for now. I’ll count on the backward vision of some poor shmuck who one day is saddled with sorting through all the stuff I leave behind. Maybe he can say, “Oh, well clearly she was painting red blobs at the time.” And everyone will agree, nodding, rubbing their chins.

Truth is, I’m horribly inconsistent. I always thought that good artists are supposed to have one thing they do. One very obvious subject or method that brands them. After all, isn’t that what makes it desirable? Worth spending on? So that others will see it and exclaim, “Oh my! What a lovely Thomas Kinkade!” But I don’t. I jump around. I get bored. I want to be a realist one moment, the next I want minimal and then two breaths later, sloppy abstract. And what comes out probably looks like a person who can’t focus. Like when you start to say “Have a nice day.” but decide midway that “Thanks, you too.” is more appropriate. And it ends up being something awkward like “Thanks you, nice too.” That might be my artist statement. (Saving artist statement “Thanks you, nice too” to Misc. folder now.) With such a poorly honed sense of direction, how can you not end up with 80 pieces named “Untitled”?

Anywhat and without further adieu, I give you my latest “Untitled” painting. It’s been up about a month, and I’ve still not thought of a better name. But the feedback has been good, the hung canvas worked tremendously, and i’m really looking forward to figuring out how to turn it into curtains or a camping tent after the showing is over.

And I have a window cling. You know you’re making it happen when your name is on a window cling. Picasso can have his Blue Period. Clings are what separates the amateurs from the professionals.

I’m SOMEBODY!!!!

Here she is, with all the drippy, feathery bits. The peacock blues and greens. The black-tar bird wing energy. The primordial aviary female power source. Forward motion and highly orchestrated chaos delight. Ripping and screaming through the sky in sheer velocity and whiplash. A wild puissance leaving a streak of inky sinew skid marks on a slip of canvas before the roar of flapping wings and quickened breath comes apart into the night.

I think you see why I went with “Untitled”…

“Untitled” in all its glory.