9″ x 12″ Mixed media: watercolor, ink, acrylic on paper
“The Real is that which is impossible (to represent) and [Lacan] …associates it with trauma or the missed encounter (that which we could not have encountered). We cannot speak the Real, but it nonetheless produces …effects that we can trace.”
Levi Paul Bryant
I can’t imagine a better account for my turn to abstraction in my art.
32″ x 28″ Acrylic on canvas. Have to see if this belongs. I feel like I’m not so much painting one piece at a time, as adding to a series. This happened with the poems I was writing. Not sure about this one yet.
24″ x 30″ Acrylic on canvas.
I’m finding that my fascination with patterns in broken pavement, walls of razed buildings, stucco and peeling paint, radiographs, high altitude photos of the earth, cartography, tree bark– has been converging in my recent paintings into a new direction. As though I’d been led–from the time I began assembling discarded fragments and trash on a table in the Ox–to my most recent paintings (say, from #958 and 959)–to the making of images, not raw abstractions, but drawn from life, one step beyond the horizon of understanding, of where we able to name what it is we are seeing. This is why I’ve been labeling them, ‘conceptual,’ because they are about something… just that we can’t name what it is.
Many of my earlier pieces have a place in this line. Ones that don’t, and are less than satisfying to me, I’ve been painting over. The painting below is a paint-over of #612–a paining that was almost there… but not enough
View more work at Saatchi Art, and on my web portfolio: ART BY WILLARD For photos on this blog, click MY ART on the right panel and scroll down
We see the past through the lens of the present. Points that brought us to where we find ourselves become markers of a path we construct, but which, in reality, is anything but straight. More like finding seeds that begin to grow out of debris we thought we’d abandoned. This is a piece from March, 2013 (#139) that was lost when we fled the Ox. Here was the anti-portrait (what we see is not what we are). There was a dirty, crusted window screen like a veil over the face. The trash assemblages I was making had begun to emerge as paintings. I recognize in this piece a link to what I’ve found opening into the future.