Which Art-Path to take?

The age-old question:

Should artists stick to one, recognizable style/subject, or should artists do what they want and let their muse lead them?

Depends on what the artist wants and/or needs as an end result I suppose. But since a life in art isn't easy, I believe that knowing oneself--what is a fit for one's personality and disposition--is crucial if any contentment is to be had.

If an artist enjoys limits, or wants/needs recognition and financial reward, it may be that sticking to one recognizable style/subject/medium is the right answer. Certain personality-types thrive and create best under these circumstances, and it's a faster way to a brand and quick recognition.

If an artist wants/needs freedom to create, it may be that listening to the muse and exploring the possibilities is the answer to creating a body of work (and a life-in-art) that is rewarding.

I've worked as an artist, illustrator, and teacher for my whole career. All three are exciting, and together they pay the bills. Because of that combination, I've mostly been able to follow my muse wherever she's led. 

I want to feel the art surge in me whenever and however it chooses, at any given time--be it drawing from imagination, from life, painting in watercolor, or acrylic; working indoors or outdoors, at the museum or in my studio. If a character is prying apart the folds of my brain in its attempt to get onto the paper, I need to help it then and there.

I'm positive that my chosen path has somewhat limited my income and my notoriety, but the big pay-off has been in my ability to answer my muse's call; my contentment is dependent upon my ability to experiment, explore, and change things up as often as she demands.

As a result, different people have different ideas of my work, depending on what they've seen most, or to which subject or style they are personally drawn.

My first love is that of drawing characters like those above, and I'm fortunate that they resonate with many people. Sketching goofy creatures gives me great joy, and provides the main vault of ideas for finished gallery works and illustrations.

Some of my most loyal patrons have responded to my landscapes, and lately, plein air work has lead me outdoors again--and in new directions. Being reluctant to cage myself into a single landscape medium has probably slowed my growth, but I've never been in much of a hurry. 

The good thing--trying different media has given me the opportunity to explore. Feeling the variety of brush-drag on paper or canvas is only part of the fascination. Watching how watercolors bloom or the way oil paint lifts into peaks is akin to studying the different water patterns in a river while fishing. It's mesmerizing, relaxing, and gratifying.

I've done my share of spiritual art as well, but have managed to avoid the temptation to paint one of these pieces only for the monetary reward. If I love the saint or concept however, I'm all over it. Above are some preliminary sketches for a commissioned work that's coming together in the studio right now.

And I just finished a new piece for an upcoming invitational called  

Monkey Business at Valkarie Gallery .

It features a whole crop of amazing interpretations on the Year of the Monkey! I'll post more about the show (and my piece) next time.

The eclectic path I've followed is not for every artist; I love many who have dedicated themselves to a single style or medium, and I admire and learn from their works. I'm pretty sure there are more than two road-options, too.

Am I always contented--with my life or the art-road I'm on? Not always. But I'm pretty sure I took the best fork in the road--for me.

Thanks for stopping by!

Inktober Landscapes

http://tomsarmo.com/

I very much like landscapes. Someday hope to visit Europe--not just in this lifetime, but also in the next--when I'm hoping time means nothing, and that accessing 18th and 19th century views will be easier (and much more interesting) than strumming a harp on a cloud.

http://tomsarmo.com/

 I also like buildings, preferably very old ones. These three sketches were done for Jake Parker's Inktober Initiative http://mrjakeparker.com/inktober They are all tiny--approximately 2.5" x 2.5", and were lots of fun to draw. I used ballpoint pen and micron pen, with watercolor and white ink added.

http://tomsarmo.com/

I like to mess about with black outlines, experimental perspective, and especially, proportion. A fellow recently complimented my works by saying that they "have a timeless quality, as if they came out of the pages of a fairy tale or legend." If that is true, it makes me one happy person.

Thanks for reading!

Fleeting Thoughts

A bit melancholy, now that spring is past and the hot summer is due to begin.

Brief--I should say fleeting--thoughts of small, rich bits (like Durer's Great Piece of Turf, below) are moving around in my brain lately.

It might be because large, beautiful landscapes are escaping my notice, most likely due to the destruction of my neighborhood, and that of other places I once loved.

 A little watercolor sketch I painted on location (at a place called Onion Hill) once a long time ago.

It was much cooler and way more atmospheric than this sad little sketch shows.

Now Onion Hill looks like this. In winter. (It's not much better in the summer.)

It always amazes me that people actually choose to live in houses like these. It's an expensive development, not a slum where one might be forced to live due to economic hardship. Miles of giant black roofs that block the view of the surrounding mesas, and brown, tan, and taupe instead of a colorful old farm. Some kind of modern Gulag.

The late, great illustrator Trina Schart Hyman once wrote: 

"One spring the farm was sold, and men and machines came and tore it down. They ripped up the grand old elms and boxwoods...they smashed the old stone and stucco walls and splintered the hand-painted blue and white tiles that lined the fireplaces. They shattered the wavery-gold and violet-tinted glass of the windows. They battered it...until it finally collapsed and died: then they plowed it under with their bulldozers.  

I learned something, that day. I learned that everything changes, and nothing is safe."

The farm from the book Self-Portrait, by Trina Shart Hyman

Everything changes I guess, including (maybe) my own ideas and opinions about beauty. And nothing is ever really safe. But it wouldn't hurt my feelings to once in awhile see a new, brown suburb bulldozed to make way for an old neighborhood filled with some charm.

Nature, Sparks, and Fire

Nothing renews my faith like nature. God is everywhere, but the line from the natural environment to the Creator is direct.

Not gonna lie, election day made me restless. So I got out of the studio for some exercise, and found some peace and beauty at the canal that winds its way through the city. It has always held mystery and adventure for me--it's the place I went as a kid to scramble around and find snakes, frogs, and salamanders. My mom would wait at the front door for my return and yell, "If you have a snake with you, go right on back and let it go!" Most times, I had to go back.

 Yesterday, exploration--as usual--trumped my lame effort at exercise. But it was a gorgeous day, and my camera-eye was wide open. Found this creepy bug-faced root hiding beneath the bank.

I should spend more time drawing out of doors, but I'm about as good at that commitment as I am to exercise. Just getting outdoors though, has a great effect upon my art and spirit.

At the end of the walk, this beautiful old house came into view. 

A lonely building buried in the trees--even better than snakes and frogs!

A small detail of my latest painting--inspired by the weird way autumn creeps into the trees almost without notice. Hoping to finish this artwork today, now that there's some relief from the politics.

Gerard Manley Hopkins is one of my favorite poets. He loved to draw as well, and was totally in love with the natural world.  I'm heading up to the studio, and will leave you with some of his words:

“All things therefore are charged with love, are charged with God and if we knew how to touch them give off sparks and take fire, yield drops and flow, ring and tell of him.”
-Gerard Manley Hopkins