Time out for some year-end sparkle

 

As the year draws to a close, I'm busy with lists and files and memories and thoughts – things that have been, things that might still be – in my life and in my art.  Some time in the past few months I came across mention of the Japanese art form kintsugi.   The word means (they tell me) simply "repair," a word that doesn't begin to suggest the beauty of kintsugi creations, in which broken ceramics are mended with gold-infused lacquer.  The outcome often out-dazzles the original piece.

 

In September, as I began to weed out my packrat's hoard, I wondered if it wasn't time to part with the two pieces of a broken teacup.  But I couldn't – this was what remained of my first post-university tea set, when flavoured teas were just appearing in North American  specialty shops as a trendy alternative to Lipton's.

 

Why not give kintsugi – or a pale imitation -- a try?  Surely my Spectral Creatures would be glad  to take a holiday break.  So I gathered my Reasonable Facsimile supplies (oh quick, write that down – Perfect name for another series!).  Here are my broken pieces with gold-coloured pigment powder and tube gouache.  Off-camera are my gloved hands and a small tube of kid-friendly white glue.

 

It required some careful handling, but here's the outcome.  My verdict:  Neither big enough nor broken enough to produce a glitzy splash.

 

But then, what to do with my leftover Golden Glue Goop?  Not that it was 10-karat, but still –

 

I poked around in my caches of oddments -- make that "found objects" --  and created a little – spillway?

 

If only there had been more broken pieces with that jug spout that forms the upside-down centrepiece.

 

Never mind.  Kintsugi is one more thing I've gotten out of my system for the year just ending.  Let's sit back now and go with the flow of this golden stream.  I think I'm hearing Leonard Cohen's "Anthem."    There is a crack in everything… That's how the light gets in.

 

 

A cautionary note

 

Just in time for our mega-stormy weather, officialdom has introduced colour codes for warnings posted by Weather Canada, the national meteorological service.  Their codes make total sense, a little like the colours of traffic lights. 

 

But, careful now!  We need to exercise caution towards yellow itself.  Like most colours, its symbolism varies with cultures, and yellow can have both positive (warm, cozy) and negative (warning, creepiness) associations.  And there are a gazillion tones of colour, too.  Here are just a few:--

 

Thinking about yellow in the midst of these chilling winds and rains, I've found myself thinking of…….hot buttered rum!  It sounds so comforting even though I've never had it, never even had rum that I can remember.  And then, as I've said before, my choice of alcohol (to give, not to drink) usually runs to funky labels.

 

Meanwhile, too, the human fly continues at work on the building to my north.  Yesterday, he (or a clone) worked all day, applying meticulous patchwork to that exterior wall.

 

I imagine some future tenant of the finished building, grateful for their own balcony on which they might enjoy a warm drink on a cold day.

 

That became my theme for yellow in the series of Spectral Figures, and I plunged right in.  Forgetting everything I'd previously resolved, I did a quick lay-in with little pre-planning.

 

Now, moving right along, the persona is taking shape.

 

But – he looks worried.

 

You'd be worried, too, if your face was too wrinkly, your head was too small, your cap was too big.  Where did this cap come from, anyway?  Was it left behind by some of the circus folk?

 

I was so tempted to call it quits, but it was all off-key.  Time was running out, and I didn't want this weirdo hanging about in my studio.  Then the long ago words of artist-teacher Richard Schmid seemed to offer the direction I was looking for: "Never leave a mistake on the canvas."   So – I hauled out my jar of gesso and whited out the worst of it.

 

Next, I painted separately a small head that seemed to be the right size, about 3" x 4" and with a better head to cap ratio!

 

Placed on the painting-in-progress, this seemed about right. 

 

Oh, I was again tempted to just glue the darn thing to the canvas and be done with it.  Bravely (if I do say so myself), I used the head as a rough guide for size and placement, and painted into the gessoed whiteness. 

 

And here we have it:  "Hot Drink on a Cold Balcony," Spectral Series, copyright 2025.

 

Now let's see what that master colourist Van Gogh has done with yellow in this painting of Armand Roulin, the son of Vincent's postman friend.

 

Coincidentally, the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam is having a lavish exhibit right now of Van Gogh and the Roulin Family and more.  I wish we could all be sitting quietly together in their café (they must have one), just letting it all sink in.

 

Instead – closer to home – we can await the new moon, and then the Solstice, and celebrate whatever activities the weather allows.