On Big and Small

From the lovely Robert Genn~

When we first arrived on the Big Island we were greeted by some
of the highest winds and roughest seas in several seasons.
Veteran surfers were turned away by the lifeguards. Saffron
finches huddled in low hedges behind lava walls. Standing on
our own seawall, I easily named a future big one "Storm on the
Kona Coast."

Pressing against the wind under the roar of the breakers, the
following days provided time for notes. Foam that whitened the
ocean for half a mile out. Great curlers where no
boogie-boarder dared. A black line that straddled the horizon.
Loaded with cliches (the translucent, green-lit wave, smoking
tops, Neptune's grasping claws) the scene would bring a sense
of awe to the most jaded. But here in this cinemascope diorama
of power, the love of small stuff is confirmed.

Make your mistakes with less on the table.
Have low commitment for courage and creativity.
Catch the wisdom of series and set.
Make variations on themes and motifs.
Build proficiency on the personal game-board.
Overcome the natural tendency of preciousness.
Feel the energy of the portable smug.
Use natural selection to drive potential larger work.

Just as the digital revolution has sped the learning of
photography, painting "smalls" in series speeds creative
progress. Because digital imagery need not be sent out for
developing, the travelling photographer can test settings and
see results on the spot. In the same way, learning on the go,
the series painter sees each variation develop. In either a
linear or in simultaneous (multi-tasking) process, a better way
is often found. Like the digital photographer, she crops,
tints, fills, glazes, sharpens, softens, revisits--and makes
the ultimate decision to keep or delete. It's the time-honoured
wisdom of the sketch.

It's good to be small and portable in the midst of greatness.
The act of remaining on location (unlike taking the tourist
snapshot--then back on the bus) has the effect of "burning in"
the experience and making it your own. It may be small stuff
you're doing, and your inadequacies may revisit and haunt you,
but the artist's life is big stuff indeed.

Best regards,

Robert

PS: "It is only a little planet, but how beautiful it is."
(Robinson Jeffers)

Esoterica: Small work fits in with the pace of modern life. In
the time where the one liner, the quick fix, instant
gratification and short concentration-spans rule, small stuff
works. Life burgeons--family, friendship, fellowship, dining
and watching long-neglected DVD's like Al Gore's witness to
global warming, "An Inconvenient Truth." All becomes part of
the matrix. Like an impossible jigsaw on the coffee table, the
paintbox is always there with its permanent invitation to
frustration, understanding and joy.