"Coronalone". It's like "Home Alone", but without Macaulay Culkin. And without the burglars (we hope). It's our ridiculous name for the surreal and strange circumstances in which we currently find ourselves.
And we currently find ourselves switching authors so that you can hear a little bit of the artist's own perspective this week. Take it away, Mike: You may have noticed that recently I’ve jumped into watercolors. For some reason, they hold a soft spot in my heart. They speak to me on a deep level. Perhaps it’s the soft tones. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s not possible to be as precise as you would like-- or should I say, as I would like. I’m used to the precision of pens and the level of detail that I can get with them. Watercolors force me to let go of my expectations, to be looser with my approach. It’s as if the flow that unfolds during the process is actually someone other than “me” doing the painting. The switch to watercolors may be symptomatic of the mix of feelings and emotions I’ve been experiencing in the past few months. I swing from one pole to the other, from complete calm and peace with all things... to rage, criticism, and helplessness. It’s like swinging from a rope swing, hanging on for dear life, fearing that losing my grip could spell unknown disaster.
Painting with watercolors gives me a similar, slightly exhilarating feeling of controlled chaos. It forces me to let go of the illusion of control. In my recent attempts to paint a particular picture, I realized that I needed more practice with color mixing. This prompted me to paint a color mixing chart-- another stab at control-- to see whether I could suss out the colors needed to get the effects I wanted. I’m learning, though, that when you let go, things come into alignment. Things show up. My mind is not needed to bring that phenomenon into manifestation. It’s funny that one’s art reflects one’s psyche so completely. On the one hand I have the watercolors-- a letting go-- and on the other, my isometric maps-- which are highly controlled and organized.
What a perfect reflection of my emotions, of the duality with which I struggle in my daily life, and of my valiant attempts to wrangle my inattentive ADD and bring organization to my chaotic mind. Who knows what the future may hold for any of us, but for now I think I shall keep painting and drawing whatever moves me, and let the chips fall where they may.