Seeing the World Through Colorblind Glasses

Book addict that I am, I couldn’t help but pop by Powell’s the other day (oh the joys of living near The City of Books!) and being that it’s close to impossible to leave Powell’s without at least one new acquisition, I came out with “The Object Stares Back”. In it, art historian James Elkins discusses the nature of sight drawing not just from his artistic background, but also from philosophy, psychology and physical science. So far, it’s a fascinating read.

With all these thoughts on vision running through my head I became a bit obsessed with wondering how my husband, who’s colorblind, sees my paintings. We’ve talked about his vision a bit - most often when shopping and he’s picked up a pair of pants or some such thinking they’re brown when they’re actually green - but it’s more difficult for him to describe how he sees my art.

I started researching online and discovered a nifty tool called Vischeck that’s able to transform my images into a simulation of what he sees. I had no idea! As an example, here’s my painting “Song of the Siren’s” :

But this is how my sweet hubby sees it:

Quite a difference, no? I may have to do a series of paintings exploring colorblindness, working with colors that appeal to those who are color blind. I have a feeling that as I continue through this book, I'll be making quite a few notes and sketches. I’ll also be contemplating sight on a much deeper level. 

“Seeing is like hunting and dreaming, and even like falling in love. It is entangled in passions - jealousy, violence, possessiveness; and it is soaked in affect - in pleasure and displeasure, and in pain. Ultimately, seeing alters the thing that is seen and transforms the seer. Seeing is metamorphosis, not mechanism.” - J. Elkins

I’m a Bit Miffed with Plato

One of the four books I’m reading right now is an anthology on aesthetic theory called “The Nature of Art”. The first chapter is an excerpt from Plato’s “The Republic”. I have to admit that before diving into this book I had fond memories of Plato from college. It seemed romantic at the time - his writings on Form and his ideas on soul mates. But now, reading him again for the first time in 20 odd years, I’m getting a bit miffed.

It seems we artists - poets and painters - would be excluded from Plato’s ideal city. You see, he considers us imitators, and for Plato, that’s a very bad thing:

“ ...an imitator has no worthwhile knowledge of the things he imitates, that imitation is a kind of game and not something to be taken seriously...”

And he’s not finished:

“However, we haven’t yet brought the most serious charge against imitation, namely, that with a few rare exceptions it is able to corrupt even decent people, for that’s surely an altogether terrible thing.”

Really Plato?  Sookie is responsible for corrupting the souls of innocent citizens? 

Sookie
Acrylic
SOLD

The morning breeze has secrets to tell you

I've been thinking about inspiration a lot lately. Ideas have been flooding me at an almost alarming rate and I'm feeling the need to act. To make these things concrete. One is a project I'll be revealing soon having to do with shelter animals and my art. I also have far more ideas for paintings than I have time to complete. For now sketches will have to suffice for those that haven't made it to the easel yet.

This past weekend was spent on the Oregon coast celebrating a friends' birthday. Good friends, tasty food and the ocean. Ah, the ocean - always a source of inspiration. Even when it snuck up and drenched me. Was the water cold? Oh my, yes! Yet I found myself standing there, laughing like a 3 year old playing in the sprinkler, still inspired to take more photos and contemplating ideas for more art projects.

And speaking of inspiration, I love the quote below from Rumi:

"The morning breeze has secrets to tell you

Do not go back to sleep"

Perhaps that's why I've been suffering from insomnia for the past few months. I suspect there's more to it than that, but I like the idea that this might be the answer to my forays into sleeplessness. 

In the meantime, here are some images from my inspirational weekend, including the heart shaped rock I found. Hopeless romantic that I am, I was tickled pink and it now sits on our mantle.

Founding the Fanciful Fox

Why The Fanciful Fox? It wasn’t the first name that popped into my mind. I hemmed, I hawed and per my usual tendencies, I did endless research before settling on a name for this blog. I went through the “to dash or not to dash” query. The “should I just use my own name?” query. The “should I really even start a blog?” query. Then I pondered some more.

After a couple of days of this, I finally tired of over-thinking the whole thing and started playing with words. “Fox” came to mind first because it was my beautiful grandmother’s maiden name and gave me a way to honor her. It also made sense seeing as I paint quite a few animals. The “Fanciful” part? Well, first I’ll admit that I’m a sucker for alliteration. I also like the playful sound of the word and the fact that it ties into my penchant for also painting symbolic and mythologically based pieces. 

I also felt that this name wouldn’t tie me down too much. It would allow me to take off on my flights of fancy, as I’m prone to do, and share thoughts on other things besides art. While art is my first love (and there will be a lot of that here), I also wanted to feel free to share my love of Portland, books (oh, how I adore books), food and quirky facts. My adventures in creating our first home and those delightful little treasures that I occasionally find in second hand shops. 

So this is where I find myself, sharing these first words and starting on a new adventure. And like Lola below, I'm curious to see where it goes....

Lola Was a Curious Bird

5 x 7

Acrylic