These have been quiet, long studio days, interspersed with bouts of floundering. It feels like I’m walking through molasses. I’ve painted over more times than I know and conducted several acts of destruction/change. Pulling an unfinished painting off it’s mount because it’s not meant to be finished is very painful. Sometimes the story just won’t materialize and I hit that hard wall. Then it’s over. All the hard work. Eventually I move into a new place of trust and tell myself, ‘It’s alright, the story is still alive’. Maybe the story will be resurrected in a new way, with new characters, with new landscapes. And that has happened sometimes. I’m still waiting with others… little pieces I snipped out of mucked paintings are tucked away carefully for some future.

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As a child, I would watched my father, a master jeweler, melting down misshapen or leftover silver, then casting new objects. He didn’t waste a thing. I trust that logic and a kind of spiritual perseverance coming from a man who has lived lives within lives. He taught me that the misshapen and imperfect elements of creating and life are equally precious — and often misunderstood. So, my painting mishaps of late are “feeling” places for me and will lead to other places I’ll be too.

I’ve been working on this painting for some time. Here’s it is so far. After I took this pic, I added several notes to myself regarding story elements that will be embedded. I don’t know when I’ll finish this, but I for damn sure don’t want to rush a single thing, a single flavor. For some reason, the word glossolalia continues to repeat itself as I work.

wip by charmagne coe
wip by charmagne coe