Painting is About Seeing

Painting is about seeing, not just scrolling or strolling by…

When I say “seeing” I mean with a sense of curiosity, presence, and acceptance. Often I can look at something- art, nature, other people, and I’ll be evaluating, judging, comparing, but to see also means watching over time, really taking it in. In Spanish, it might be the difference between “mirar” versus “ver.” I can visit the same tree, or building, or even the same person and see them each time in a different season and a different way. In a world where we scroll and search online for something different and stimulating, it is a rebellious act to pause, stop, and see what is really in front of us. It might be subtle and quietly beautiful. Painting forces me to slow down, and, although I am sizing things up and thinking about what I see, I am also taking the time to be with what I see. I sit beneath the trees, touch the bark, greet the dog, or appreciate the smile of a neighbor talking with me. Seeing is an active, dynamic endeavor, rather than a passive sponging in of visual information to be rejected or accepted. We can have many viewpoints and differing viewpoints at different times.

David Hockney said, "The world is very, very beautiful if you look at it. But most people don't look very much, do they?"

This week, I’m featuring an abstract watercolor and ink painting that was inspired by a walk near our apartment.I’ve walked it repeatedly through all seasons, but I’d never experienced the perfect timing of all these blossoms falling to the ground. I felt like I had never walked on this strip of cement before this magical moment and knew it would be erased before returning.In fact, when I turned around to head home, a street cleaner was already loudly blowing them to clean the sidewalks.

When I got back to the studio, I sat down and wrote a poem about it and began this painting which is not about the realistic view, but the feeling I had while walking…which brings me to the second thing about taking the time to see, it gives time to feel, rather than just judge what one is seeing.

Painting is also about feeling

Otherwise, one could just use photorealism, which is a choice in painting, too. But when I make and acquire art, I like to see a subject as well as feel what the artist was seeing or experiencing. This opens us to semi-abstracts, surrealism and a whole host of art styles. Van Gogh’s wheatfields and starry night sky showed energy and JM W Turner’s sunrises and sunsets were moody and etherial. We aren’t wearing the same glasses. We don’t have the same hands, or tools, or vision.

As a painter, I think, the challenge is to see and then share that vision, spirit, or feeling in our work.

My hope is that even if you aren’t a painter and don’t consider yourself an “artist” that you see yourself as a creative human. I think we all are, and we can all take the time to enjoy the quiet rebellion of pausing and seeing in a fast-paced, crazy info-image-noisy world.

11.5 in x 8 in, original watercolor, gold ink, pen painting on watercolor paper

$70 includes shipping Spain and USA.

You’ll receive the painting packaged carefully, a certificate of authenticity, a bonus post card with the poem. Pay Pal and direct payments accepted.

An Ordinary Day by Marti Lay

It took my breath away

Today, on this path beside this city park

The morning summer breeze shook the trees

Into a state of slight trembling.

Millions of yellow blossoms drifted 

like silent snowflakes falling to my feet

I looked up at the branches of this line of trees

Their tiny petals were falling flecks, spiralling down to a golden carpet

 on the hard cement sidewalk

I stopped, put my hands out like a child that wants to 

Catch snow even though it will melt in one’s hands.

It was as if I discovered a secret that no one else knew.

This line of trees, city sentinels along an ordinary walkway.

Magically transformed.

And though I knew it wasn’t true.

I wasn’t alone, I hadn’t discovered any secret 

 Surrounded by prams and bicyclists,

dog walkers and old men strolling.

Still, it took my breath away. 

 I’d never seen this magic world of golden light falling 

All around us, blanketing our ordinary path.

Though I’ve walked here a 100 times before.

And it’s true, it will never be just like this moment of this ordinary day.

 I know it will never be the same, even if I pass here 100 more times after.