Guest Article: Abstract Art and How I Got There

I am pleased to offer an article written by guest Howard Collins. Howard is my spouse of 49 years and for the past year, the business manager for my art practice. Howard is my number one fan and his taste in art has evolved through the years, which prompted him to write this article for my blog.

Howard is an active participant in Dayna’s art practice, doing everything from administrative to schlepping.

“Ugh.” “I don’t get it.” “That’s weird.” “What’s the point?”

These words have admittedly come from me about abstract art.

My gradual transformation into appreciating and loving abstract works has taken time. Unlike the acquired taste for kombucha, which took real effort and perseverance, coming to love abstract art was more evolutionary than effort.

Howard checking out Dayna’s January, 2021 show, “Emotional Alignments” at RiverSea Gallery in Astoria, Oregon.

My early years of art appreciation was not as a result of education. It was more akin to “Me like, pretty,” when I saw something that caught my eye. But art has always been important to me regardless of my ignorance. My eye was attracted to precision, to realism, to clarity, and realistic portraits. In walking through museums, I was attracted to and spent as much time as I could looking at the details by various master artists. I always gave a short glance at modern, contemporary, and abstract art, but never much time and clearly little thought.

However, I subtly found myself spending more time looking at impressionist art and less realistic works. Monet blew me away. Here was realism without precision and detail, but beautiful nonetheless. This was a style of art without precision, but collectively, the strokes created beautiful compositions. My eyes began to look at the art of other impressionists and marvel at their beauty. Without warning I began to spend even more time looking at non representational art. My world of art appreciation exploded.

“Turns of the Kaleidoscope,” 30×40 inches, plaster, oil, and cold wax. One of Howard’s favorite pieces.

Dayna’s taste in art has always differed from mine. I began to look closer at pieces and artists to whom she was attracted. It stretched me to look at works that I previously would only glance at and rarely see. Vertical and horizontal colorful lines, unusual compositions, and figures in ways that had usually left me cold, now drew me in.

Howard spending time with six 12×12 pieces in Dayna’s “Turns of the Kaleidoscope” show at Salem on the Edge, May, 2021.

Modern art, cubism, angles, distorted figures all called me to view them in a way I had not felt before. I found Pollock, Kandinski and de Kooning, and a renewed interest in Picasso.

And therein lies the difference for me. I felt the art. An emotional response rather than mere appreciation of the art. Feeling what the piece was sharing with me, allowing the piece to talk to me. This was a moving experience and was totally unlike viewing realistic works. As strange as it sounds, listening as a piece talks to you is quite normal. Explaining how this works for me is difficult, but it is real. For me works of art talk to me through their composition, arrangement, color and form, which cause an emotional response in me.

My eye views abstract art and its perceived disorganization in different ways. At times I seek to make sense of the abstract lines, shadows and colors by seeing what I can see. At times I take in the whole of the abstract and free myself from my realism tendency; and then at other times, I pick a small portion to see what I can see and hear from the art. If I bring an attitude of openness, it allows the painting to express itself and for my eyes, brain, and emotions to react.

One of Howard’s favorites: “It Smelled Like the End of Summer,” 30×40 inches, plaster, oil, and cold wax, now hanging at The Independence Hotel.

I have to interject a side story here. We recently talked to the maintenance engineer at The Dundee Hotel. I told him Dayna was the artist of many of the works hanging there and his eyes lit up. “Did you do the pieces in the conference room?” he asked Dayna.  “Yes,” was her reply and he said: “I have questions for you. I’ve studied them.” We walked to the three painting and he wanted to know if the images he saw in them were intentional. He saw birds, a cow, and other animals throughout her works. Dayna laughed and said “Don’t show me, I’ll never be able to not see them.”

Jim points out what he sees in three of Dayna’s abstract paintings, now hanging in the Board Room of the Dundee Hotel.

He was astounded to hear that Dayna had not intentionally included farm animals in her abstracts. He was trying to make sense of the abstract work though his interpretation of what he saw. By the way, he loved the works and his appreciation came from their composition and his interpretation, and not by the intention of the artist.

In my wasted youth, I thought Picasso was odd, irrelevant, and not really worth looking at. Even today not all of his pieces move me, but many do in a way I would never have thought possible. His humor is outstanding. I stood before a Picasso series created during the last months of WWII and I was laughing. They were optimistic, playful, joyful and irreverent. Yes, I was the only one laughing, but that’s me. They were simply magnificent.

Then there is the power of abstract. There is power in the stroke, texture, form, composition, and message. With or without a representational image, abstract work speaks and conveys a message. In part, the power comes from eliminating a common scene or picture for our minds to see. We are engaged to interact with the artists’ work. Just as letting our children play in a dusty pile of dirt, they create games, form roads, and valleys in their minds, which they translate into the dirt pile; just as we get to create from abstract art.

One of Howard’s favorites: “Fleeting Amazement,” 24×36 inches, acrylic on canvas, hanging at The Dundee Hotel.

Amazingly, the power of abstract art endures beyond a single viewing but continues over time and changes as we see different elements as we change. A piece of Dayna’s work, Singed by Fire and Light, hung in my office for three years until I moved my office home. Every day this piece spoke to me, every day it gave me something. Sometimes it spoke to me as a whole, drawing me deep inside; sometimes from a small section, sometimes from hints of color revealed from the sunlight pouring in the window. I miss this piece terribly. It now hangs beautifully at The Dundee Hotel, where I am writing this piece and I’ve literally hugged it.

Howard hugs “Singed by Fire and Light,” now hanging in The Dundee Hotel.

I still appreciate and enjoy realism and impressionism. But abstract art, with a big thank you to my wife, attracts me, speaks to me and fills me.

Artists Dayna admires:

Joan Mitchell, Helen Frankenthaler, Lee Krasner, Elaine deKooning, Cy Twombly, Robert Motherwell, Robert Diebenkorn

One of Dayna’s favorite artists: Helen Frankenthaler

Artists I admire:

Mark Rothko, Willem deKooning , Jackson Pollock, Picasso, Kandinski, Dayna Collins

Dayna and Howard at the opening of Dayna’s show at Salem on the Edge in May, 2021, “Turns of the Kaleidoscope.”

 

Artist in Residence At Home

I declared the past eight days an Artist in Residency, self proclaimed because my husband hopped on a jet for the east coast to visit his nieces and I had eight days to myself. I often hem and haw, do a little of this, a little of that, throw in a load of laundry, check out Instagram, read emails . . . . before heading to my studio. Last week I still did some of those things, but I made it a priority to get into my studio. It was a little easier last week not because Howard was gone, well, that was part of it, but because of the oppressive heat. My painting studio is upstairs in our 1926 house so the old furnace ducting doesn’t allow the air conditioned air to reach the second floor, making the upstairs pretty unbearable by noon.

So I made it my mission to get up there every morning and do something, anything. I had a productive week, getting a few things out of the way that I needed to do, but more than that, I painted. I painted just for the joy of painting and spreading paint.

On the first morning, I did a warm up using scraps of brown paper bags from my recent #100dayproject. It felt good to revisit being playful and loose while painting on unimportant little bits of paper.

Then I got to work. One of my projects was to simply gesso a stack of boards for a class I’m taking in July.

I spent a little time most days painting with acrylic on a repurposed canvas and recording my progress.

I prepped panels with plaster, which required multiple steps: acrylic, plaster, sanding, sealing . . . .

I wove these steps into my mornings, allowing things to dry overnight, ready to tackle the next day. One morning I did a reset in my studio, moving things around on my collection of rolling carts, causing a traffic jam at one point.

I was finally ready to pull out the oil and cold wax and start painting. Home again.  . . . the smell of the wax, the feel of the materials as I mixed and spread the buttery concoction . . . .

Many layers of oil and cold wax were applied. It was a time of experimentation, to play, to try out different ideas. I finished a few, several are still in process. Some are on boards, some are on Arches oil paper.

I recommend an Artist in Residence . . . at home.

 

#the100dayproject – The Power of a Frame

So what happened to those 100+pieces of art I created from January 31 through mid May? The ones I blogged about on March 21st at the half way point and the ones I celebrated on May 12th when I completed the project?

I turned some of them into cards so I can write thank you notes to people who purchase paintings.

But I had the most fun matting 44 of the paintings and collages I created. If you aren’t familiar with the project, artists were challenged to create a piece of art or do something creative for 100 days (my entire process was documented on Instagram at DaynaLovesArt). We were encouraged to investigate a particular medium, theme, or idea. My chosen project was to create art on scraps of the lowly brown paper bag. So, I ripped apart lots of paper bags that I had stashed away, and for 100 days I painted using acrylics or oil and cold wax, or I collaged using scraps of paper, or I combined a bit of paint and collage. I ended up with over 100 pieces of abstract art. I chose 44 of them to seal with varnish, then glued those pieces to a backer board, adhered a 45-degree beveled edge mat to frame the art, wrote the day I created the piece, signed my name, and put each piece in a clear bag. Whew. I’m tired just writing the various steps.

Then the more behind the scenes work began. After the pieces were ready, I wrote a description of how I created each piece, took photos, and turned the photos and text over to my IT/business manager/website guru specialist willing partner for posting in my Shop: 100 Day Project. But here’s the thing/the small print/the catch. I have been trying to grow my email list so I am shamelessly soliciting sign ups by announcing when this special shop will open to subscribers ahead of when I announce it more publicly. My June newsletter is about ready to launch, so I thought I would make a final push and give my friends, art lovers, curious followers, and even my family, the opportunity to sign up for my newsletter. The newsletter will share two things in particular about this project: 1) when the shop will open for purchasing these pieces, and 2) why I am pricing these pieces at $49 (which includes shipping). You might be thinking, “Another newsletter?!?” Yawn. I promise that my newsletters aren’t too long, I include content that isn’t shared on other social medium platforms (or at least different photos), and I won’t bombard you with lots of emails. If I have your interest at all, just click on the link, which will take you to my website where you can sign up. NEWSLETTER LINK

About now you are probably thinking, or at least I would be, enough with the words, show us some art. Here are some of the pieces that will be available for sale for $49.

Day 58 Oil and cold wax on brown paper bag, by Dayna Collins
Day 67 Acrylic and wax crayon on brown paper bag, by Dayna Collins
Day 62 Acrylic on brown paper bag, by Dayna Collins
Day 49 Acrylic and Stabilo pencil on brown paper bag, by Dayna Collins
Day 75 Acrylic and collage on brown paper bag, by Dayna Collins
Day 5.1 Acrylic on brown paper bag, by Dayna Collins
Day 15 Acrylic on brown paper bag, by Dayna Collins
Day 12 Acrylic and wax crayon on brown paper bag, by Dayna Collins

Each of these pieces is matted to fit an 8×10 (or larger) frame. In case you can’t envision what that would look like, I put different pieces in an 11×14 frame (with an 8×10 cutout), so you can see the power of a frame.

Day 32 Acrylic and wax crayon on brown paper bag, by Dayna Collins (frame not included)
Day 29 Acrylic on brown paper bag, by Dayna Collins (frame not included)
Day 48 Oil and cold wax on brown paper bag, by Dayna Collins (frame not included)
Day 28 Acrylic on brown paper bag, by Dayna Collins (frame not included)

This was a frame I got very inexpensively at Michael’s, so you can either use a nice frame or an inexpensive one. If you want a smaller profile, these mats will also fit nicely in a simple 8×10 frame.

Thank you for reading my blog. I appreciate each of you who support me and my art journey.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Boutique Hotel + My Art = A Beautiful Collaboration

Reflection photo taken from our balcony, with the river in the background.

Back in the fall of 2019, I was invited to show my art in a new hotel in Independence, Oregon, a small town about 15 minutes from Salem and across the Willamette River. The hotel, The Independence, was along the river and wanted to feature local artists and makers. I painted three paintings with the hotel in mind and its location along the river.

Working on two of the pieces for The Independence Hotel.
Adding more layers to “Patterns Revealed Themselves.”
“It Smelled Like the End of Summer” drying on our upstairs bathtub.

The three paintings for the hotel, oil and cold wax over plaster, and 30×40 inches each, were delivered in November, 2019. A reception was planned for the end of March, 2020.

And then the pandemic hit and everything was cancelled.

Fast forward to May, 2021, and we were finally able to visit the hotel and see my art in place. The hotel invited us to stay, so last week we planned a two night staycation. It was lovely to only drive 15 minutes to reach our destination, and what a beautiful destination.

Arrival at The Independence Hotel.

The beautiful lobby.

The hotel lobby.
Local art in the lobby.

Into the elevator and down the hallway . . .

Shiny large elevator.

Arrival on the third floor.

Room 320.
A special treat and thank you for staying.
Our room with a view! Heavenly.
Local art above the bed.
The cool bathroom in our room.
Meow.
Standing on our balcony, looking down the Willamette River toward Salem.
The view along the river walk.

As soon as we were settled, we took off to visit my art.

Seeing my painting for the first time: 2nd floor elevator lobby.
“Patterns Revealed Themselves,” 30×40 inches, oil and cold wax over plaster. This painting is for sale and available.
Howard exploring “Remnants of Morning Mist.”
Revisiting “Remnants of Morning Mist.”
“Remnants of Morning Mist,” 30×40 inches, oil and cold wax over plaster; located on the 4th floor elevator lobby. This painting is for sale and available.
Visiting “It Smelled Like the End of Summer,” 30×40 inches, oil and cold wax over plaster, located on the 3rd floor elevator lobby. This painting is for sale and available.
Howard taking photos of my painting.

The next thing we did was to grab kombuchas and head to the rooftop patio.

Afternoon kombucha on the rooftop patio.
Rooftop patio.
Relaxing on the rooftop patio.

Then we did a little exploring in downtown Independence.

A nice little antique store in downtown Independence.
Independence has a great used bookstore on Main Street.
Exploring downtown Independence.
Exploring Riverview Park in Independence.

What a lovely location and a beautiful hotel.

The view from our balcony.

In preparation for our visit, The Independence Hotel interviewed me and posted the interview on their blog. Here’s a LINK.

Coming next month, a visit to The Dundee Hotel in Dundee, Oregon, where I have nine pieces of art on display!

#the100dayproject – COMPLETED

It is hard to believe that 100 days ago I embarked on a project where I committed to make a piece of art every day for 100 days. That’s a lot of days and a lot of art. I wrote about the project on Day 50, so if you want more info just click on the link.

Very first piece for #the100dayproject: acrylic painting on a scrap of brown paper bag.

In a nutshell, over the past 100 days I created art using scraps of brown paper bags. The mediums I used included oil and cold wax, acrylic paint, and collage. Some of the materials I used in the pieces: black and white photographs, Stabilo Woody Crayons, pencils, vintage ephemera, book scraps, paper frames, and charcoal. Techniques and designs included splatter painting, drawing, stripes, circles, stencils, scraping, tearing, gluing, squeegees, and mark-making.

Last piece for #the100dayproject: Acrylic painting on a scrap of a brown paper bag, with strips from discarded books, and a B&W photo found at a flea market.

What I learned during the past 100 days:

  • True art is in the doing and there is no shortcut for that.
  • I like to work fast to keep the inner critic quiet.
  • It was freeing to work on such an unimportant substrate as a brown paper bag.
  • I kept pushing myself to be bolder and to make more startling moves on my daily pieces.
  • It was amazing to create so many pieces, and although each piece was different, they created a unified body of work.
  • Some days it was this project that propelled me to go into my studio. Sometimes I stayed.
  • Several new ideas emerged from this project and I am letting them percolate for future projects.
  • A very exciting byproduct was how two of the paper pieces I created inspired bigger paintings!

Here is a random assortment of pieces from the second half of the project:

Right now I am celebrating the completion of the project . . . .

. . . . but I have some ideas brewing for moving forward with these pieces.

I have this wacky idea of offering some of these completed pieces for sale and giving first notice to those who are on my mailing list. Haven’t signed up yet? Want to? Here’s a LINK.

Turns of the Kaleidoscope

Yesterday I dropped off 17 new plaster, oil, and cold wax paintings at Salem on the Edge for my show Turns of the Kaleidoscope. The pieces range in size from 12×12 inches, up to 30×60 inches, all created to be hung on 48 feet of wall space! When I began working on this series, I had trouble imagining filling that long, blank wall. But I did it with one painting to spare. (If you happen to see the show during the month of May, ask Melanie to see the 36×48 inch piece, Life’s Distractions and Enticements.)

Rather than blather about creating the pieces, I’m going to share my process with a series of photos, after all, this is a post about an art show. Here we go . . . .

Sealing the board with fluorescent paint.
Bucket of mud!
Applying plaster.
I love this stage of applying plaster.
Plaster being sealed.
A brand new gallon of Gamblin’s Cold Wax.
Early layers.
Working on a 12×12 inch piece.
Active studio.
Rolling wall comes in so handy.
New trend in makeup?
Painting the edges.
Works in progress.
Paying the price.
Sweet spot.
Doing a demo on Instagram about final coat of wax. (My IG: DaynaLovesArt)
Feedback and critique from Howard.
Peeling off the tape.
Sanding the backs of the boards.
Drying in the warm, dry air.
Choosing titles.
Signing paintings.
Preparing to photograph.
Photographing paintings in the perfect outdoor light.
Arrival with paintings!
The namesake piece, “Turns of the Kaleidoscope.”
Howard carries in “Baffled Amazement,” one of three 36×48 inch pieces.
Melanie sizing things up.
The beginning of the curating process by Melanie.
Arranging and rearranging . . . .
“Where does this go?”
Happy that the pieces are at the gallery and ready to be hung.

 

How I Title My Paintings

I am often asked how I come up with the titles for my paintings, so I’m going to spill the beans. Whenever I’m reading a beautifully written novel, I keep a piece of paper and a pen handy to jot down portions of sentences or phrases that resonate with how the words are put together. I do the same when I am reading poetry, just taking a few of the words, or “word fragments,” and scribbling them on a scrap of paper. I keep all of my pieces of paper gathered together on a clipboard, which I then refer to when it is time to name a painting. And I get to use one of my vintage clipboards!

It is a bit of a wonky system, and takes some maneuvering, but it has worked for me for many years and I enjoy the process of looking through my scribbles and putting together new combinations of words from the word fragments on my scraps of paper.

I have painted hundreds of paintings over the years, but here is a sampling of my work and the titles I have chosen.

“A Narrow Illumination,” plaster, oil, and cold wax on cradled birch panel, by Dayna J. Collins
“According to Sylvia Plath, the tulips are subtle, they seem to float,” plaster, oil, and cold wax on cradled birch panel, by Dayna J. Collins
“A Protective Charm,” acrylic on 300 lb. watercolor paper, by Dayna J. Collins
“A Ghostly Process of Waves,” oil and cold wax on cradled birch panel, by Dayna J. Collins
“Small Bursts of Illumination,” acrylic on wood panel, mounted in floating frame, by Dayna J. Collins
“Fallen Sun,” oil and cold wax on cradled birch panel, by Dayna J. Collins

 

The Story of a Transformation

 

Sometime back in 2012 (maybe before), I received a gift from my good friend Sam Hart, one of the most creative people I know and the superstar behind (the now defunct) Lil’ Gypsy vintage shop. On occasion, Sam left me gifts at my doorstep (she still does!) and back in 2012, when I had my studio in a small house on an alley in NE Salem, Sam gifted me this mannequin. She had a few battle scars (the mannequin, not Sam), so I wrapped her in a boa and gave her a pep talk.

Circa 2012

When I later moved my studio home, she hung out with me for a while upstairs . . . .

. . . and then she got banished to the basement.

I often thought about how I wanted to give her a new life. For a brief moment I thought about adding collage to her entire self, but it never seemed quite right. Then one day a few months ago, I decided to repair some of  her more severe scarring. I put on my plastic surgery scrubs, and with a bit of duct tape and plaster, I repaired the worst of her owies.

After a light dermabrasion sanding, I gave her a clean slate: gesso, the great eraser.

She was hanging out in my studio as I was transferring acrylic paint into squeeze bottles, so as I was doing this, I started using leftover paint on her body (I really should name her).

Layer by layer, patch by patch, swath by swath, drip by drip, my lady was transformed.

She was taken to the basement and given a coat of semi-gloss varnish to protect and seal her, then I did some drip painting on the base. And today is her debut!

 

Now I just need to figure out where she will live.

Surprise! Circles, Stripes, and Color

I don’t ever crave extraordinary moments anymore. Just small, gentle hums of beauty streaming from below, above, and beyond simply from paying attention. Sound. Light. Shadow. Art. Warmth. The night. The morning. Dreams that are not faraway but exist right  here — already in my days, hands, and heart. 

                                                                                                                Victoria Erickson

 

One of the projects I’ve started working on is actually a resumption of something I started a year ago, a series of long, slender, wood cradled panels (4×48 inches). All five boards had been painted black with some bands of color already added, but today I pulled them out of the basement, hung them on my rolling wall, and while painting a large canvas on the opposite wall (another long abandoned project resurrected last week), I used the leftover paint from that painting on the tall, slender panels. Layer by layer, band by band. I know that the swaths of color I used to create my Emotional Alignments series influenced this current project. Bands and swaths again, but a bit wonkier and whimsical. At least for today. I’ll be working on these right on into the new year.

Some close-up peeks from different sections of the five panels: