Mark Making

I'm thinking a great deal about marks today.

I am back to working on canvas, including rediscovering a canvas I started -- and thought I had finished -- over a year ago. I appreciate a quote attributed to Cezanne, at least the paraphrased version -- every mark should finish the piece -- and I try to make each mark count that way; it didn't surprise me that I thought the painting was already complete a year ago. Looking at it today, I was unhappy with the way one closely knit collection of marks just sat on the canvas, like the clunk when a bad note is played on the piano. That loud and off. How did I miss that before? A couple new marks, with my new perspective, softened the harsh area, coaxing it into place. And a year from now?

I am working on a series of canvas pieces sitting a red area inside a larger earth-toned shape, seeing how the eye moves around the canvas and between canvases, what overall shapes move in and out of focus. Apart from a lovely error (clunk), which I'll have to address tomorrow, I feel that I was achieving seamlessness. Conceptually, red = Heart/turmoil; earth = body/grounding.