The Next Assignment

 

Sedona, Arizona 
(think I was being philosophical)

Lately, people have been asking what I'm working on next.

It's a fair question. Every artist reaches a point where one body of work begins to wind down and another starts to take shape. I've been asking myself the same thing.

The funny part is, if you walked into my studio, you'd probably think I should finish something before I start anything new. You wouldn't be completely wrong.

There are paintings leaning against the wall that are finished and ready for a frame. Others need another layer. Watercolors are drying. Gelli prints are stacked on a table. There are notes scribbled on scraps of paper, ideas that may become a painting someday, and a few pieces that have been sitting there for months.

Not because I've forgotten about them.

They just aren't the next assignment.

And somewhere in the middle of all of that is a little stack that's been quietly getting my attention. It's too early to call it a series, but it keeps showing up. A shape here. A symbol there. A page of notes that made perfect sense when I wrote them and now make me laugh because I can't quite remember what I meant. That's part of creating. I don't always know where an idea is going. I just know when it's worth paying attention to.

I've realized that's how I work.

I don't force a painting just because it's been sitting there the longest. I don't finish it because I think I should. Every once in a while, I'll walk past a painting that's been waiting for months and think, "Well...I guess today's your day." I'll make one stroke of the brush, and suddenly I remember exactly why I started it. It's funny how that works.

One thing I've also realized is that I'm ready to step back from a few of the series that have filled my life these past several years.

That doesn't mean they're over. Far from it.

I'll keep painting them because I still have something to say. I just don't need them to lead every show or every conversation anymore. Those stories have become part of me, and I have a feeling they'll keep growing in the background for years. They just won't always be the first thing people see.

That feels less like ending something and more like making room for what's next.

Looking back, I don't think I've ever chosen a series because it seemed like a good idea. They've all found me first. Usually by refusing to leave me alone.

Black Cowboys and Buffalo Soldiers started because I wanted to understand a part of history that deserved more attention. They said be a Lady series was in honor of my mother. This next body of work is growing from symbols and the meanings we give them. It's still finding its footing, and honestly, so am I.

Maybe that's why I've been thinking about the word "assignment."

Not because it sounds important, but because every season asks something different of us.

Sometimes the assignment is to learn. Sometimes it's to teach. Sometimes it's to encourage someone else. Sometimes it's simply to pay attention.

I've spent enough years painting to know that not everything has to happen today.

Some paintings come together in a weekend.

Others quietly wait until one day I walk past them and know exactly what's missing.

Life has been a little like that too. There have been seasons where I thought I needed all the answers before I could move forward. Now I think differently. I don't need every answer. I just need to know what deserves my attention today.

Tomorrow may ask something completely different of me. That's one of the greatest gifts my studio has given me.

So if you stop by over the next few months, you'll probably see a little bit of everything. Some familiar stories. Some old friends I'm not quite ready to set aside. And if you look closely, you might catch a glimpse of the next assignment beginning to take shape.

I don't know exactly where it's headed yet.

Honestly, that's one of my favorite parts.

Until next time... Back to the studio!