Saturday, January 16, 2016

Rolling Large Canvas Off and Back Onto Tubes

In the aftermath of hanging and photographing my twenty-six, large scale paintings I had to take Advil for my back pain.  Each of these large, heavyweight canvases is heavy even before the paint is added.  Hauling the paintings, removing them from their tubes, climbing the ladder, hanging, moving the ladder out of the camera's frame, then taking the paintings back down and rerolling them back onto the tubes is very physical work, unseen by those only looking at a small digital image on a flickering screen.

My mind went back to the time when I made prints and after several editions were completed and signed, I would clear the studio and set up the tripod and black velvet background.  I might take hundreds of photographs and make countless slides to send to my art dealers.  Compared to the new canvases, documenting the prints was tedious, but never lead me to taking pain killers.

Documenting artworks is the type of activity I dreaded and appreciated.  I always put off the photography because it meant I would have to stop creating for the duration of the clean up, shooting, and distribution of the images.  Fortunately, this time I had a real photographer take the shots; one less action for me and superior quality images, too. Yes, having the photographs gave me some satisfaction of documentation that I had made something and that it could be shared.  But it was always a cessation in productivity that I resented.  I would rather be painting or writing or otherwise making.  When I am into the flow I lose myself until I am drained.
That kind of draining, feels well spent.

I don't need Advil when the canvas is wet.

The twenty-six, finished, seven by fourteen foot canvases are back on their tubes, stored in the shelves.  Three fresh sheets of cotton duck are already in three different states of wetness and drying,
prone on the warehouse/studio floor.

See the 7 X 14 Foot Paintings

Wednesday, November 25, 2015

Each Painting: 98 Square Feet of Brightly Colored Canvas















I have been busy in the studio painting 7' X 14' canvases.
If I had a roll eight feet wide you can extrapolate the length of each painting.
I have 50 more yards of 7' heavyweight canvas until I have to face that decision.
To view more than just these two paintings, go to the fresh new website by clicking on the image of my red eyeglasses.


http://sandykinnee.com/sandy/

Wednesday, February 4, 2015

Two and Three Word Poems

Much like two and three word poems
their meanings
are probably 
lost in the translation

they always seem distilled 
pared to the bone
yet they fill my eyes
I choke







Sunday, July 13, 2014

Another Lost Poem

 Another Lost Poem

I was on the train this morning and for some reason I thought that the words scrolling in my head would be easily remembered, they were so obvious that I could write the entire poem at once without taking a single note.

On the train I was confident I had nothing left but to record it when I reached my destination.  You know already that this lost poem matched the umbrella left behind yesterday on the same train.
As I left the metro the rain resumed.





Sunday, July 6, 2014

The Smallest Most Insignificant


The Smallest Most Insignificant

Those smallest and most insignificant
things such as that garden hose
a wet leaf plastered to the ground
or a goddamn trash can

each seem incredibly insignificant
yet, even the smallest,
most insignificant blossom unfolds
to say “Good Morning!”

I pluck it with my camera for you.




Saturday, July 5, 2014

Here, Let Me Smile

I am a highly functioning person
in a non-stop state of utter
and sometimes

self-entertaining incoherence.
Here, let me dance for you.
Here, let me put my shirt on

inside out and
upside down.
Here, let me smile. 

Let me smile for you in the form of a photograph.











Friday, January 10, 2014

Painted Carnac (updated 1-27-2014)


3000 rocks, pointing skyward for 6500 years are endlessly pregnant with meaning lost to those who look only at surfaces. I have wandered between these standing stones and am now and forever drawn to them, the Alignments at Carnac. Read my paintings and drawings as poems written for you in a language prehistoric. Don’t be surprised that you already recognize as familiar this unwritten tongue. If you don’t worry about the spelling you can hear the music, feel the cadence, hear past the lack of logic.