Steve Emery - Artist Statementtitle> <meta name="Author" content=""> <meta name="GENERATOR" content="Mozilla/2.0GoldB1 (Win32)"> </head> <body text="#000000" bgcolor="#000000" link="#3535FF" vlink="#551A8B" alink="#FF0000"> <p><A HREF="index.html"><img src="steveemery3.JPG" hspace=10 vspace=5 border=0 height=146 width =474 align=left > <font COLOR="#FFFFFF"><font SIZE=+2></A> </font></font></p> <BR> <BR> <BR> <BR> <BR> <BR> <br> <p> <A HREF="index.html"><font COLOR="#FFFFFF"><font SIZE="3">Back to Home Page</A> </font></font></p> <BR> <BR> <p><b><font face="times" COLOR="#FFFFFF"><font SIZE=+3>Why Do I Paint?</font></font></b></p> <p><img src="planning.JPG" hspace=10 border=0 height=311 width =539 align=left ></p> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <BR> <BR> <BR> <BR> <BR> <BR> <BR> <BR> <BR> <p> <i><font COLOR="#FFFFFF"><font SIZE=+1>Planning my next work of art?</font></font></i></p> <br> <br> <p><b><font COLOR="#FFFFFF"></a><font SIZE=+1> Sometimes I imagine myself stumbling along, pulled too fast by a pack of unruly hounds. Each beast, beautiful or ugly, is one of my inner urges. Several have the strongest pull (and the sharpest teeth) and one of these is aesthetic. I seek the perfect composition, with all the shapes, colors, light, and textures arranged to push all my buttons at once. Some scenes in the natural world come close, some works of art come close, but, since it's <em>my</em> unique visual nirvana, I have to create it myself. Like all dogs, this urge is never satisfied for long, and every meal brings only a short calm, followed by renewed appetite. <br> <br> While I'm painting, running forward, I feel close to what I seek. When I'm done, I enjoy the artwork; but soon I need to try again, to push for something more, to explore something I left out in the last piece. The paintings are never enough, and so it's not so hard to part with them a few weeks later. The NEXT painting is the one I'm always reaching for, not the one I've just completed. It's not the last romp with the dog, but the next one, that will be perfect. In a way, the paintings ARE the run, and they're also nothing more than the footprints the dog and I have left behind. <BR> <BR> Only a few things get me as excited as color, light, and composition. <BR> <BR> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~. <BR> <BR> In case you're curious, here are a few things about me and the way I work, chosen almost at random. <br> <BR> <P><A><img src="linatamlin.JPG" hspace=10 vspace=5 border=0 height=245 width =327 align=left > <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <p> <font COLOR="#FFFFFF"><font SIZE=+1>First of all, we don't own a corporeal dog. These two chowder heads show up in my work often. I love their forms, their movement, their grace.</font></font></p> <br> <br> <P><A><img src="important.JPG" hspace=10 vspace=5 border=0 height=424 width =275 align=left > <font COLOR="#FFFFFF"><font SIZE=+2></A> </font></font></p> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br><br> <BR> <p> <font COLOR="#FFFFFF"><font SIZE=+1>These are the most important people in my world.</font></font></p><br> I've had art training at Sanderson Highschool in Raleigh, NC, at East Carolina University in Greenville, NC, and at UNC Chapel Hill. A few things have stuck with me over the years: <BR> <br> If I show up at the page and just do five minutes, I'll usually be hooked. <br> <br> If I fail to show up at the page for more than a few days I get grumpy. <br> <br> When I'm totally out of control, the art is in trouble. When I'm pretending to be in control the art is in worse trouble. <br> <br> My left brain often needs music with words, so it will get out of the way and let the right brain draw or paint. I usually work with headphones on. It's the best when I realize hours later that my ears hurt from the headphones, the music stopped a long time ago, and I have no idea when. <br> <br> My right brain would rather paint something fun, my left brain would rather paint something good. My right brain is the artist, my left brain is the art critic or the art dealer. According to Aristotle my artist acts, while my critic moves. If my critic would move a little further to the left, so he was out of the picture... <br> <br> Or, in the words of one art professor, whose advice I could not take at the time, "Paint what you want to - all the rest is crap." (<a href="http://www.marvinsaltzman.com">Marvin Saltzman</a>) Possibly the truest words I ever heard in art classes. <br> <br> And another art mentor, and I was privileged to be his student in high school, "Do you really want to do those tight renderings? They would sell, but are you having any fun? Look at this book of paintings by Hundertwasser." (<a href="http://www.bobrankin.com">Bob Rankin</a>) <br> <br> Don't be afraid to use supplies; don't be afraid to screw up; "You've got to get over that fear right now;" (<a href="http://www.bobrankin.com">Bob Rankin</a>, again, overheard using those words to someone else at an Artarama vendor show recenty - I grinned with deja vu). <br> <br> It's got to be play or it doesn't work. <br> <br> Often I have to get something on the page, generally some semi-random blind countour lines, all jumbled, before I can start to move forward. If I don't start with something unexpected and accidental, I will get the boring and obvious every time. </body> </html>