When I intially started working on my second novel, The Adventures of Infinity and Negativa, on January 1st, 2010, one of my goals was to complete it in less than seven years–the amount of time it took for me to write Tribe of One. It sounded like a reasonable goal at the time since I hadn’t worked on Tribe every day like I’m doing with Adventures. Yet, just like everything else in life, I’ve upped the ante for myself.
Not content with merely writing a book, I envisioned the fantasy part of the book as being a graphic novel. I even talked with a few friends and coworkers about a possible collaboration. Realistically, I’m not going to retain the interest of a graphic artist until I start talking money. At the same time, I’m saving up money just in case I need to be “self-employed” for at least six months.
I never abandoned the idea of visual representation for this book. This past December while going to one of several Christmas bazaars, I visited an artist’s booth who had taken high-quality pictures of her paintings with a rented, expensive camera. I was so impressed with the result that I toyed with the idea of doing a storyboard painting for each of the fantasy scenes. That idea marinated for a couple of weeks since in the beginning of January, I had several writing projects and readings lined up.
I approached the composition of the first painting like I do my writing; it’s all good as long as I’m doing a little at a time. I had a friend to take pictures of me in various action poses, divided up the canvas into nine sections, researched on-line for several pictures of elements needed for the painting and set out working on the canvas as much as I could, given the other things I had to do.
I made more progress in the beginning, before I started actually putting paint to canvas. Since my medium of choice is oils, I have to give it a few days to dry in between sessions. That works well for my schedule. Plus, I gaze at my painting WIP every day and see the things that need to be cleaned up and get creative ideas about what else needs to be done.
Now that I’m half way done, I’ve started lining up some friends to pose for some action shots for the second painting in the series. I also started thinking ahead about how to store the accumulation of the 20+ paintings for this project. I couldn’t visualize putting them in a closet after all the hard work that I’m doing. Then, I became acutely aware of a little cluttered area in my small one-bedroom apartment that I could easily repurpose as a gallery.
A surge of creative energy went through me. I reorganized two closets and found a home for the things that had been sitting nearly dormant for months to years. I even discovered three dead crickets who had given up the ghost months ago during cricket season under a few piles of stuff. I pulled some of my original composed paintings from my bedroom closet and brainstormed about the best way to mount them.
I consulted a contractor friend who advised me that nail holes were easier to repair than the damage caused by mounting tape. Although I owned the “bachlorette” tool kit, I didn’t have any nails. Besides, hammering away didn’t appeal to me. Not merely the noise, but I had to accurately measure where I wanted the nails to go to prevent redundant hammering.
Fortunately, the whole business of setting up the gallery actually took place over a couple of weekends. In the meantime, at school we had the first of standardized testing. The one day that I proctored a test, I was in a classroom where the teacher had used clear plastic pushpins in order to hang up student work. Again, the creative surge flowed. That weekend, I bought a 200-count box of clear pushpins and started setting up my gallery.
One the first wall that I tackled, I put a mixed media piece, “Future Graduate,” high on the wall. A student mother whose baby’s daddy was in prison inspired me to create that painting four years ago. Below that painting, was “The Burning Bush,” which depicted a seductively veiled naked woman who has lively flames instead of pubic hair. Four male hands in the bottom of the painting hold a marshmallow, a magnifying glass, a cross and a knife, which represent how female sexuality is used as entertainment, regarded as a curiosity, subjected to strict religious control and attacked violently. The bottommost picture, “Ingorance Is Bliss,” was also inspired by a student. Unlike the first one, I had no sympathy for this particular student who was spoiled, lazy and consumed too much class time needing discipline.
For the opposite wall, which had the least usable space, thanks to the metal slab covering of the AC/heating unit, I put up an untitled 12″ wooden box that shows a geometry design, using acrylics. Originally, I’d painted it with an uninspiring design in oils. I had not previously known that my precious oil paints could not be used for every surface. If viewed closely, the impressions of that tragic oil painting can still be seen although I’d covered it with primer before using acrylics.
Lastly, on the biggest wall, which will house the 20+ Adventures paintings, I have mounted four 4 X 6 paintings that were part of the March “Serendipity & Spontaneity” Austin Writers Roulette. I’d taped the paintings onto a large piece of cardboard and before the roulette began, I gave members of the audience four post-it-notes and asked them to jot down the first thoughts they had and stick it to the cardboard. I made sure that the paintings circulated throughout the audience during the show and toward the end of the event when it was my turn to read, I first recited the poem I’d written for the painting, followed by the spontaneous comments that the audience members had written. Since then, I’ve arranged the comments, secured them with more tape and put my poem beside each corresponding painting.
I’m simply amazed at the transformation of space and energy that setting up a gallery in my dining room has catalyzed. I have experienced not merely a surge of creativity, but a steady buzz that stops me in my tracks, even for a second as I walk around my apartment, attempting to go about life. Each time, I see something new in a painting or its placement. Or I begin to daydream of the paintings to come, both their compositions and placements.