Art Letters

Unlike most of my work, this painting wasn’t born from a story to tell, or reminder to remember, or title to paint (I swim daily in painting titles I’d like to turn into visuals someday). Rather, to my discomfort, everything was undefined. The only directive from within - or from out? - was that I must paint some foliage on linen. I didn’t know which kind, or in what composition, or at what scale or size. As I'd later find, I didn’t even know which side was the top.

Nudging aside the doubt that hugs uncertainty, I began. First, to select the type of foliage. My current favorite - the Monstera - a love created by my dear friend, Scott, when his Artist eyes opened mine to see it’s details; to notice the holes it contains that allow it to be even more whole, resilient, self-nurturing and thriving.

I selected one leaf from our Monstera, and began tracing it on the linen, over and over. Turning her into different angles, sides and viewpoints.

I recently watched a video on portrait oil paintings where the instructor encouraged Artists to begin, and continue, their work using as few brushstrokes as possible. This stood in direct contrast, I realized, to how I paint: hundreds of tiny brushes, thousands of tiny brushstrokes used in a single painting. I wanted to try it, to experience the opposite of the familiar. I dug around and found my widest oil brush (it hadn’t even been used before, no surprise), mixed a variety of greens together, and began to cover as much ground, with as few movements.

To my surprise, it only took a few strokes to cover each leaf. Immediately my mind wrestled - it’s covered, but not precise/detailed/layered enough… I’ll go in later and add a bunch of details with my normal brushes.

Where else could I paint with a wider brush? Where else could I benefit from less movement? (I’d include less effort in this questioning, but I noticed it actually took greater effort to restrain myself from doing more).

Now that I’m unlearning and deconditioning from perfectionism, why is there still a need to overfunction? Might I, and even others, benefit from me in fact, doing less? Are my efforts to help, to plan, to fix, to perform often superfluous? And worse, are they often an interference? Could they not only be blocking my flow, but the flow of those around me?

One of the most intriguing parts of the Monstera plant are the holes it intentionally contains. I’ve watched these plants during trips to Mexico and Costa Rica, allowing water to flow through their leaves, wind to blow freely through, and sun to reach their lowest stems.

To me, they summarize flow.

I’ve experienced flow before; a flow state while painting, or gardening, or running. What would it be like though to experience flow when I’m not in creative or physical pursuits? What if my being could operate, exist in a consistent state of flow?

The former - always present? - engineer in me started visualizing flow; visualizing current, voltage, power.

Visualizing Ohm’s Law.

It’s not hard to figure out which character I am in the mix. While I relate to V - pushing hard, and A - very determined, it’s R, oh that face, I currently relate to most. R stands for Resistance.

Ohm’s Law states that V= IR. Voltage equals Current times Resistance.

Current - let’s call this flow - is inversely proportional to resistance. If the resistance is higher, the current is lower.

If my resistance is higher, my flow gets blocked. As I lower my resistance, I get more flow.

So what am I resisting?

Control.

Or rather, letting go of control.

This is a tough one for me. Releasing control requires a great deal of trust. Of releasing the outcome and replacing it with confidence in the ability to flow.

As I work (again the effort to expend less effort) to let go of control, I’m experimenting with shifting from:

action, doing, giving, analyzing, decision making, figuring out, solving, fixing, planning, leading, achieving, accomplishing, organizing, initiating

towards:

feeling, expressing, intuiting, being, following, allowing, receiving, sensing, creating, experiencing, trusting… flowing.

MAY THE FLOW BE WITH YOU
61 x 41 Oil and Acrylic on Linen, Framed in Maple
mioneplant.com

Thank you for personally connecting with me through this work. May you flow with ease.