The Language of Intuition

The Sound of Rain
by Leslie Avon Miller

What informs the compositional choices one makes? Whether or not you have a sense of self-discovery before or after the fact of “creation” it is helpful to be more conscious in your personal world of art making.

~ Margot Voorhies Thompson

10 years ago I stepped into a classroom on the wild Oregon coast and spent a week with fellow artists and Margot.

She didn’t instruct so much as she helped us discover what was ours. She asked us questions, stimulated our thought process as artists, and helped us to see.

Margot Voorhies Thompson


I invite you to visit Margot's website

What feelings do your brush marks, scrapings, scratchings, drawing, calligraphy, type and other marks lend to your idea?

~ Margot Voorhies Thompson

Winter

by Leslie Avon Miller

I’ve just spent time looking at some of my work from that workshop, and found my entire art language was present in my work even in its infancy. Soft, subdued palette of cream, sienna, white and black – and a touch of orange. Ink, graphite, collage and paint. Calligraphic marks, drips, finger painting, open space, grids, rectangles, abstracted figures.

What invitation are you extending to the viewer through your work?

~ Margot Voorhies Thompson

My work from that time has always been just within my awareness, but until today when I got it out again, I hadn’t realized how complete my language was even then.

Why am I revisiting that time? For one, I know I had an outstanding learning experience. For another, that was my first art workshop. At this time I am in an archeological mode, looking for the essential, the authentic, the elemental components of my work.

I’m clearing my personal airwaves so I can hear myself. I am clearing, so I can create authentically.

Visuals = the language of intuition.

~ Eileen M. Clegg

The works I have posted here are recent works. My works from the workshop are not imaged.

So, what do you know about your personal visual language of intuition?

Seeking My Authentic Voice

I have a new appreciation for winter, after the holidays and the rush have subsided.

It’s a personal time. It’s easy to slip home after work and live simply. I find time for reflection, time for solitude, and studio time.

I think of my thought process as mental composting in a way. I don’t have to actively reflect, just see what comes up. I have no intention of any thing like a resolution. I am experiencing more “being” now, and eschewing goal setting and time frames. I am experiencing myself a la natural. It’s exciting really. What will come of it?

From this richness of space and time (and plenty of luxurious sleep), I have been working a lot in the studio. I’m going in new directions. Ideas tumble in my mind, one after the other, waiting to be acted upon. I’m having fun!

I’m not ready to share the “new” work yet, but I can tell you I have been playing with inks, bees wax, charcoal and egg shells. Even those ingredients sound a bit like a compost pile!

I have also developed a new coaching group – Seeking Your Creative Voice. This topic is so very dear to my heart.

On January 14th you can participate in a non cost teleclass exploring the topic if you like. You can find out more here. You will also find particulars about the group there.

As this idea was developing I started down a few mental dead ends; all a part of the process I suppose. Not unlike making art, for me anyway. Then this popped up from my compost pile:

When I tap into my authentic voice that’s when the doors open, the work flows and my heart knows, just knows “this is right.” Time melts. It feels good. The struggle is replaced with a sense of work; right work, good work, the work, my work.

Voice isn’t style, voice isn’t principals and elements of design, voice isn’t content, but the language we use to express our authentic voice includes all of these. Authentic voice is something more elementary than this, it’s something closer to primal, closer to the earth, and it is uniquely yours.

The authentic voice isn’t found so much as it is invited, finally recognized and accepted for what it is and celebrated.

We don’t choose it, it claims us. What we choose is to listen and dance to the sound. You may even find yourself weeping for the joy of connection with your own creative voice.

Happy January! What is coming up from your mental compost pile?

Dictionary of Marks, Scratches and Symbols

Investigation and studio work continue. I am well into a series of exploratory collage, where I am playing with marks. Brush marks, finger marks, lines as marks, found marks, drips, scratches and spatters. I have used a piece of wood, a scrap of mat board, a brush, a bamboo skewer, and of course my fingers to make marks. I think of these collages as a dictionary of my personal marks. I may place these collage in an artist book, like a dictionary, or they may have some other landing place. The point is to freely experiment – a lot.

Marks can be lyrical and suggest a rhythm. I have made marks while listening to the male quail keep his brood informed. Cluck, cluck, cluck. Cluckcluckcluckcluckcluck. I’m going to incorporate those marks into a collage and see what that does. And I am going to keep listening and looking at marks in nature and anywhere else I find myself.

I hope to use these mark making experiments to spring board into working with gesture, which I think of as really big marks, made with the whole arm in conjunction with a brush, not just using my fingers and a tool. Marks occur in a space of course so I am also paying attention to my use of the two dimensional space of the surface. I am finding it helpful to slow down, look at elements one by one, and realize I have all the time in the world to find my way.

If you like mark making here are a few resources. I have recently discovered two blogs of mark makers, Jacob Albablank from Spain and Imbi Star of Australia. Jacob has a Flicker set of marks which also show his lovely studio space. Of course Cy Twombly is a masterful mark maker. A collection of his work can be seen here.

In my exploration I can across this quote, connected with Phillip Guston and John Cage. “When you start working, everybody is in your studio – the past, your friends, your enemies, the art world, and above all your own ideas – all are there. But as you continue painting they start to leave, one by one, and you are left completely alone. Then if you are lucky, even you leave.”

What is it that I want from my creativity? And what does my creativity want from me?

A Red Moment, 6 x 6 collage by Leslie Avon Miller

I love to create my art. I am also enthused about creating posts for my blog. And I enjoy the connection here in blogland with all of you. I become interested and entertained when I read your blogs, experience the talent you have when writing, see the art you are making, or see the photos you capture and post. Being someone who loves to cook, I also enjoy the recipes. I love to travel vicariously through your blogs, and read the prose, poetry and essays that provide a look at life in our times.

I find the more I create, the more I want to create. The more I have ideas, and pay attention to them, the more ideas come to me. It is a great cycle. My creativity thrives on my attention! What is it that you get back from your art? What is it that you give to your creativity? What gets in the way and frustrates you in your efforts to create? What are your biggest hopes and dreams for your creativity?

I am inviting all of you to share with me what you think, and how you approach your creative work. If you would like to dialog with me in an informal interview process, either by email or by phone, please contact me. The purpose is to become more aware of the successes, the trials, and the joy of being a creative person. You might also benefit by telling your story. Sometimes that results in insight or greater clarity. So if you are interested, please email me at leslie avon miller @ g mail (dot) com. (Remove the spaces). I look forward to hearing from you!

In The Bones

I don't have new art to show you today, so here is a photo of my studio assistant. He becomes quite insistent on my attention at times. So far he hasn’t jumped into wet paint….

In The Bones

I’ve just returned from an intensive work shop, and as usual I find it a bit of a challenge to reenter my customary life. This is in part because I have been changed by my experience, and in part because in the juice of a workshop, life is surreal, expanded, and intensified.

This was the 5th in a series of courses that, for me, began last summer. My class was called “In the Bones”. Yummy title, yes? I am renewed in my belief that each of us is unique, and that we have something to say. We are all tapped into the same life force, but what we bring from that is our unique expression of the deep well. Our intuition is our powerful guide to our biggest, most fulfilling life. The tools we talked about and experienced are authenticity, connection, aliveness and fierce courage. All of these attributes are ours to develop, and use in speaking our own resonating creative voice.

We spoke of and experienced breaking the rules, for the sake of greater authenticity, and being pushed to the edge where the possibilities exist. We spoke of trust and taking risks from the place of trust. I do trust my own creativity and my own process. I trust that my expression is through me, not of me, and is part of the flow. Just today I received an email from a fellow artist who said to me “Do not be afraid to take risks.” I know he speaks from experience.

Your own creative voice is with you at all times, as is mine. I am turning up my courage and following my expanded vision. And part of that is fueled by the connection I experience with other like minded people here in blogland.