I have a definite methodology to how I work. But on the road there are variations. This is an aspect of how I feel a location should subtly add its flavor to work being done (there). In the states, I do my hour or two of woodshedding at night, the end of my day.
In Paris the lighting is better to do it in the morning with my coffee.
Even in my stateside studio, different times of year present better hours to paint by, as I use natural light to do so. It takes anywhere from three days to a week to really nail down what hours to pick up the brush. I am lucky though, that there are some aspects of a piece that I can do in less than ideal lighting.
I do not go to museums every time I am in France, as I know that I will always be back. Sometimes all I need is the poetry of the streets to inspire.
There is the constant though, of chatting with my peers.
While here, a huge sale by a post-pop artist got us all talking. The question of “Is it art?”
Eventually we all got bored with gnashing our teeth and started discussing nudity in art and the conected social mores in North America.
There is a cyclical debate of what seperates art from eroticism (“dirty” or “porn” labels)
Some say it is merely a matter of intent. This is too simplistic and facilitates filling the room with devil’s advocates and semantics.
Of course, intent is always important as proven by Duchamp, but a more reliable yardstick which also keeps in mind a modicum of rationality are the components and concept of the work.
A work can seduce or excite but is it doing so because a main componant is titillation? The same question can be asked of shock value. If a work happens to induce heat, then regardless of why, it can’t be “dirty”. Someone setting out first and foremost to excite makes it so that a different label may be appropriate to apply.
Courbet’s L’Origine du Monde comes to mind. It is graphic to some but beautiful, there is no question that it is art.
The first question being asked should never be “Is there nudity?” nor even necessarily “is it art?” but rather, “is it good ?”
Having to ask if it is art is sort of like guestioning yourself if there has been too many drinks to safely drive home, it becomes almost besides the point.
I used my canson watercolor paper 140 lb. A thing which appeals to me about it is that it’s not temperamental, being effected by wet weather as the French cotton ones that I used to solely use was.
For photos of my work I am just using my phone and as the paper has little tooth, the photos (I never work any digital magic on pics) gives accurate gist of a piece.
Song & Bellissima 5.5 x 8.5 watercolor and paper