A Year In Sedona: From Truth to Art

Chapter 6
From Truth To Art

Sedona Arts Center, display of  student paintings

          What I mean by 'abstract' is something which comes to life spontaneously through a gamut of contrasts, plastic at the same time as psychic, and pervading both the picture and the eye of the spectator with conceptions of new and unfamiliar elements. -- Marc Chagall

            Late spring had arrived in Sedona all its glory, the whole town now completely awash in beauty. We were so ready to explore new artistic frontiers after our encounter with the abstract art of our new friend/muse, John Warren Oakes.  Sedona, at an altitude of 4,500 feet was ringed by sheltering red rock spires creating a kind of a hermetic container now buzzing with a hundred kinds of colorful high desert wildflowers blooming their little heads off.  What better time could there be than now to take that two-day workshop with the intriguing title, A Beautiful Mess taught by artist Julie Bernstein Engelmann at the Sedona Arts Center.

          The class promised to cover the basics of abstract painting with latex and acrylic paints. There were ten students, some experienced artists and novices like Louis and me. We were all there to learn how to wrestle a chaotic cacophony of shape, line, space, texture and color -- aka 'a beautiful mess'-- into some kind of transcendant new order reflecting the subtext buried in our souls. Whether this was the same thing as moving from truth to art and ending up at wisdom's edge, we would soon find out.

        On Day One Julie asked the assembled artists to find an intention, a word, a phrase, something to lend inspiration and focus for our proposed painting. I cast about, anxious to choose the right word. This was to be an abstract, and yet....one had to retain some sense of boundary, didn't one?  Finally I chose  'nourishment', a concept that had always served me well in the inspiration department. The painting itself would be wrought from a free form exercise involving mixing and pouring latex house paint on a primed canvas. I liked the initial results, my brave attempts at mixing colors, light pinks, various hues of green, warm yellow, soft blue produced the sense of a midnight garden in spring under the light of a golden full moon.

          After we poured, we left our piece to dry and set overnight, returning the next day to give it a good structuring workout with a variety of brushes, soppy wet paper towels and acrylics applied sparingly for contour, shaping and form. The finished pieces took on line and definition, surprising many who'd thought they might not be able to locate anything remotely resembling their original concept. True, one woman became annoyed with the process outcome and refashioned her whole painting into a whimsically rendered but  realistic depiction of a prancing pony.  I thought it had great charm and applauded her courage to keep working it until she got to what felt right for her.


             My own painting took on the semblance of a field of vegetation, which I loved and yes, felt nourished by. Louis' painting looked almost exactly like one of those wildly colorful weather channel hurricane graphics, very powerful. Which sounds less than inspiring but the contrary was true. the main spiral threw off an enormous pink happy energy as it twirled across the canvas. At the end of the workshop we'd learned valuable hands on techniques and become acquainted with  how to embrace an intention prior to beginning a new abstract. Most people were pleased, some amazed at what could happen when you let yourself meet the muse in this way.

          It  reminded me of  the writing workshops  I taught back in my years in Santa Fe. Free form, abstract, spontaneous, on the fly...whatever you want to call it, there's something liberating about getting all your stuff down on the page and then going through it line by line to find a jewel, gem or treasure inviting you to step into wisdom's edge. Writers had often been shocked to realize that a few well chosen editing techniques led to a discovery of new order, focus and purpose  arising from the original mess and chaos. Same idea, different medium, identical result.


              That abstract workshop was exhilarating because we'd met the muse in a whole new way, inviting us to keep on creating even after workshop's end. We decided to use an available third of the garage to accommodate a primitive art studio where we resurrected a long stored trove of art supplies, including over 20 old tubes of paint that had dried out, a few still salvageable. Ditto for the brushes, pencils, pastels, pens, sponges, scrapers, pokers and pliers. Toiling among the morass of papers and paints, it  just felt good to pour the dust out of the resurrected collection of plastic cups we'd saved, in their former lives receptacles for mixing watercolors and acrylics.

        Though older now and a little weathered, like us, our art supplies and folding tables were nevertheless  ready and able to go another round with us as we sailed on into our new life as creative spirits. After Louis finished installing a whole wall of display and storage shelves, we felt we'd accomplished something big. Surveying our novice efforts with pride and satisfaction, we saw our dream of joining a wider creative community had become a solid reality. In the end, our truth had become our art.

 

 Meeting Your Muse: Nourishing The Creative Spirit

          One of the best ways I know to nourish a creative spirit is to go back to sources of your first inspiration. Like food. While we'd worked along on our new art studio I cooked up a few tapas including some fabulous Mediterranean dishes to keep us going. Shaping and working the menu choices, I began looking at the food with my new abstract-appreciative eyes. I was taken aback because if you've ever looked, and I mean really looked, at your meal preparations, you will be continually astonished and thrilled at the artistry you can encounter in the simple act of observing, preparing and cooking food. the elements of art -- line, color, texture, shape, space -- are abundantly evident in even the smallest morsel. Behold: A sunburst in the middle of a carrot slice! The curly, crispy edges of a textured fried egg! One perfect, smooth, round green pea!  Happy crinkled edges fluting a fresh bunch of kale! why it's enough to make you want to remodel your whole kitchen to honor the food muse (but we've already talked about that in another chapter so....).

        Food -- its selection, preparation, cooking, consumption--  is an artistic experience and the Mediterranean diet is touted worldwide and has a distinct esthetic appeal. Here's a menu that is worthy enough to be called a form of abstract art with the requisite contrasts of color, juxtapositions of new and familiar textures, a wide variety of shapes and just enough order to satisfy the sensibilities of those among us who live for boundaries (yes, me).


            To begin, set out a wildly colorful and textured dish of perfectly prepared grains. Couscous is so compelling with its tiny pearls and honeyed hue. Zap it with ghee or olive oil, but not too much more. Let it hover lightly, set off to perfection in an indigo ceramic dish. Offer pita bread on the side.

         Next find some small, crisp white plates with nice shapes (I love a little ellipse, don't you?)...maybe use four or five just large enough to have a healthy and attractive sampling of 1) Greek olives and pickle slices (zesty dill is best), 2) a good size helping of plain yogurt, sliced cucumbers and feta cheese slices sporting fresh shredded mint as a suitable topping, along with fat red grapes as a clump for color and contrast of taste 3) tiny, halved sweet cherry tomatoes with gobs of cilantro and parsley,  4) an alluring, perfectly smooth dish of chickpea hummus sporting a well of olive oil, dashed with paprika, and then maybe 5) another slightly more hearty dip of baba ganoush, wherein you make the tahini by grinding the sesame seeds yourself and strip the soft and juicy eggplant so that it's tender but firm, proudly showing off its handsome seeds and other textured innards.

          While vegetarian fare is always appreciated, for some, so is a little side of salmon, lamb or perhaps a roasted garlic-lemon chicken. Just a side though since the main event is always fresh vegetables, grains, condiment sides, nuts and dairy choices.

             You will come at last to dessert and there's really nothing better, more appropriate or more artistic than homemade Baklava served in tiny colorful bowls. It's easy to put it together, just grab some filo dough from the frozen food section at the grocery, those small individual cups with fluted edges are cute. Then get some really, really pure fine honey and pick up some of the freshest walnuts you can find to grind and add to the honey, which you'll then stuff into the lightly cooked filo cups. If you want to ladle on a dab of yogurt or vanilla bean gelato, knock yourself out! Just keep it simple and keep it healthy.

            And there you have it, you won't believe how beautiful your abstractly artful Mediterranean meal will look. And how much your muse will thank you for taking the time to look beyond the ordinary to the extraordinary....from truth to art.