Proposal for Shunpike Storefront installation

Literature and art making are intertwined for me, and yet, when you look at my work, that may not be immediately obvious. My paintings reflect the visible world – through hand, eye, craft and energy – emerging as my visual voice. I don’t directly take words and set to making a painting about them. So, how does the written word, since it is so important to me, show up?

For one thing, I am a poetry lover. A good poem opens me up, makes me receptive, soft, silent. Moved. The quiet listening space a poem can evoke is how it can feel while in the flow of art making. Mental chatter quiets, and the line from experience to expression is more direct. A poem puts me in that place. Regular doses of poetry prime my creative heart.

Photo by Chuck Moses

When I was working on my Waterways series during an Artist Residency at Centrum, I stumbled onto an Elizabeth Austen poem that fed the work that was happening. It seemed like the piece exactly described the environment, the fluidity and the abstract quality of what I was painting. Afterward, I designed a Shunpike Storefront proposal that used that poem to accompany the paintings. I didn’t get the project, but I was thrilled that Ms. Austen was willing! Poetry and abstract work just seem to go together.

Where Currents Meet by Elizabeth Austen

A poem expresses a sense experience and a painting also expresses a sense experience, both of them using one form to convey another. Between the experience and the expression is the sweet space of contemplation. That gap is why we linger over a lovely painting, and why we re-read a poem time and again. Joan Mitchell has a powerful body of work from poetry – not narrative accompaniments – but companions in expression, complementing each other.

Courtesy: Cheim & Read, New York

Poet A.R. Ammons got up every morning and painted fabulous abstract watercolors as non-verbal counterpoint to his written work.

Watercolor by A.R. Ammons

And then there is literature. Worlds in worlds. Even non-fiction can take me far away to spheres of information and context that open me to different ways of being, seeing, believing – and how can that not affect my art making? I just finished reading “Braiding Sweetgrass” by Robin Wall Kimmerer, and her language around reciprocity resonated: “…its wisdom is that the beauty of one is illuminated by the radiance of the other.” Reciprocity is a lovely way to describe what is called ekphrastic in art circles – where one art form is informed by another – but I rather prefer the “giving and receiving” sense of reciprocity, as a mutual exchange.

A painting offers a view of a world within a world. As real as anything else, and yet, not like anything else at all. That is my love of abstraction. I love seeing how my particular expression is affected by other ways to see, reciprocating art with art.


Join me for a 2-day workshop at Port Townsend School of the Arts that guides you through the literary inspiration of poetry in art making. June 10-11, 10am-1pm.