What does my art mean to me?

I grew up in what was then a remote mountain valley, among a large extended family an a community of people with an intimate relationship with their environment. This had a strong influence on how I relate to things, both in the profession that supported my and my family, and in my art-- and in my relationships with people.

As a young artist, I began, as we all do, learning the basics: design, composition, color, structure. I was just beginning to find the shape of my own voice when circumstances of life moved art to the sidelines of my life. This was not an act of renunciation: it was a simple act of setting priorities.

When I was able to return art to a more central role in my life, I felt as if I were starting over. The difference was that this time I was not beginning at the beginning: I was bringing with me several decades of paying attention, of living, of observing, of making art when I could with what I could. I worked at resurrecting old skills and learning new ones.

Why do I make art?

I have to. Even when the process of creation is a frustrating one that seems to be leading nowhere, it is still essential. I’ve learned that very often the days that fill me with frustration are the prelude to a breakthrough, a new way of experiencing creativity. I stand out of the way, keep working, and wait for the joy. When it is going well, I feel as if I am flying.

How do I make my art?

I find myself simplifying my paintings to the most basic elements, and exploring the use of other media, looking for the interface of craft and art. I look for the essential composition of my subject. I try to communicate that essence in my paintings, and tend to focus more on the relationship of form than detail.

Landscape embodies the complex relationship between me and the rest of creation, all of it. I want to express that relationship so that others can see it. I want to make art that goes beyond the outward appearance of my subject, art that makes the viewer see something he or she hadn’t thought to look for. Sometimes, I use art as a way of exploring social issues.

I am drawn to form, light, color, and texture, and seek out ways to express those things. I work in various media, including various paint media on canvas, paper, or wood. I like to mix media and incorporate unusual materials in my paintings. Some of my works are multi-media collage. I’ve found that there are common elements that emerge for me in each of these mediums. I recently also began weaving: I learned to make simple weavings as a child and never lost my fascination. It has replaced working with kiln-worked glass, which I had to give up because of a shoulder injury that does not allow me to cut glass. I am finding that weaving has the same thrill of color, design and texture, along with the meditative feel of warping the loom and throwing the shuttle. Cutting a finished piece off the loom gives me the same satisfaction that taking a fired piece of glass did.

I love the tactile feel of being in contact with my materials. Sometimes I use my hands directly, even sometimes applying paint with my fingertips. Other times I use a tool that is an extension of my hand, such as a brush or a painting knife or the shuttle. Or a needle, or a hammer, or a cooking spoon, or a garden spade, for that matter. What my hands do is a direct expression of what my brain is perceiving and experiencing at that moment in time, expressed in tactile and visual terms. It is just plain exciting.

By the way... my name lends itself to variable spelling, so sometimes people think it is Dale, or Gayle, or DeAnne, or just Ann-- but it really is Dayle Ann!