The Rules (September 2008) Painting-The Flower Man

The rules I set up for myself seemed straightforward at the time. Here they are, directly from my proposal:

"For my special project, I will explore this methodology by creating thirty pieces of work. The art must be created in accordance with a set of rules that includes not purchasing any supplies, but rather using what is available in my environment and what I can obtain free through friends or on Freecycle. Each piece will be comprised of objects that I have found in the Chicago streets. The object of this exercise is to respond directly to my environment and the pieces and develop art that is more reactive than intellectual. I will photograph the materials I find, photograph the finished piece, and juxtapose them in a book with a rolling commentary. The intention of this collection of art is to strip away the planning and training in art, allow “happy accidents,” and to recover more of the fresh, raw feeling of outsider art. It will also push me to adopt a more creative process and allow for fresher ideas.
The finished product that I submit will be this visual diary with the commentary on what my process was and how I made the decisions I did. The object is to explore my creativity by stripping down to the basics that outsider artists utilize.
The critical paper will be a review of my methodology. It will also be a commentary on what I have discovered during this process. I will be interested in discovering how difficult it will be to create on the fly and still feel proud of the work I submit."

All of that was well and good until I began scouring the streets and alleys of my neighborhood looking for materials to spark my creative juices. Besides two fabulous window panes, I did not find much. Every morning while out with the dog, I would dumpster dive, trying to decide if I really wanted that piece of lumber with the gooey brown stuff on in it that smelled toxic or if I could come back with my car to pick up that wooden desk later. Living in a university neighborhood on the fringes of poorer neighborhoods made my dumpster diving a competitive sport that I did not have the stomach to engage in wholeheartedly.

So, I gave in and went to the mecca of all art students, the art supply store. Or in my case, the downtown Blick Art store. I bought small, cheap canvases and canvas board, resisting the temptation to purchase the 5' by 6' gigantic canvas. Store brand paints and some cheap brushes completed my haul. Since I never worked in acrylics before, I figured I was not really compromising, just reevaluating my options and my deadline.

I brought everything home, converted my dining room into a studio and got everything ready. And there it all sat, for a week.

Mocking me.

Daring me.

Until finally I got the courage to begin dabbling.

I remember the first stroke of the paintbrush. The seal was broken and the blinding white of the canvas was less intimidating with each subsequent flourish. Only one of the first pieces was worth saving - the face on a map.