I was finally able to get back in my studio this morning. After so many interruptions--travel, school, snowstorms--it felt good that the paintings didn’t look strange or unforgiving for my absence. As if there is a thread that ties my life together no matter what kind of fabric I am using at the moment.
I’ve had a few days in Montreal, looking at lots of art, in museums and galleries. This trip I saw some very exciting exhibitions in the museums—from ancient clay sculptures to 20th century paintings and recent installation pieces. The one thing about Canada that causes concern for me for young students of art is that there is not much exposure to the old masters here or even to much of good contemporary art. Most of what is available to students is from slides and books. I was fortunate in living near the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C. when I was young and to have a family that fostered visits to museums. As a teenager I spent hours looking at Vermeers and Rembrandts. I would go to the Gallery just to see Rembrandt's Girl with a Broom. When I was an undergraduate in Rhode Island, I saw a painting by Richard Diebenkorn, a painting of a young girl with a teacup, that changed the direction of my life, gave my desire to paint more conviction, more urgency. This painting moved me so deeply, by the way the light moved down her raised arm, the one holding the teacup, that I knew then the joy I felt from painting could be received as strongly by the viewer. I was thrilled to see that painting again a few years ago in San Francisco at a Diebenkorn retrospective exhibit. Some paintings just stay in my mind like old friends.