What if the only way you could communicate as an artist was through color? Sometimes I have visions of paint, dabs of paint, blobs of paint, the colors dreamlike in shape. I am unable to really identify what the painting is about, but I can identify the colors and the vagueness of the form. It inspires me to paint. This language of color wants to express itself. I desire to mirror this expression in the real world, but know the attempt may be futile, for it really isn’t a thing.
What is it? What wants to be expressed? What do these blobs of color want to say? Are they valid? Are they meaningful? Is this a real language of the creative? The bottom line is the question that I have to live with, that may not even have an answer. The only way it will be revealed is to do it. The process will tell me more. Each color will express a note, a feeling a dimension. I will dig deep and feel. I will dig deep and have it speak through shape, texture and color. I will let it be. I will let it become. I will let it give birth. And perhaps it’s not even language, but energy, energy from where? Energy the true authentic language of the universe, the many sources received by the artist to interpret what is unexplainable by words, even if it becomes the language of color.