A certain...thing.

Got a hankering to do some painting lately.

I’d felt inclined to not paint anymore a while back and figured the time had finally come to let it slip away in favor of sculptural and installation endeavors. Though, I have learned through creating art to always answer the call when inspiration rings. It may be a wrong number sometimes, though the occasional deep dive into a visual conversation with a medium can be pivotal.

So I decided to create a couple of paintings. These yet-to-be paintings live within this categorization in my mind of substantial undertakings; like they’re meant to be a substantial thing. And this is where problems arise in the creative process as I’ve already decided that these are “important” paintings, elevating their status and requiring them to be of a certain...THING.

This consideration that these paintings will be a certain thing is in fact the precise problem. Thus being aware of what I am creating adds another layer to navigate. The question then arises, “How do I get ahead of the planning mind?” I have found forgetting about such a question is the best way. Just put the substrate before you, grab the media, and make a mark that pleases you.

Along these lines, I was tidying up the studio the other day and came across a piece of paper onto which I’d quickly scrawled an idea while in college:

“If the idea of art is there before the experience of art, a warped perception of what art is occurs, devaluing the overall essence--debasing it to a level below what it is.”

Let’s forgive the 3rd Senior Year Chase’s lack of syntax and full-on self-righteousness, and try to glean my intended notion that rang true then and ever since has proven itself time and time again.

A peculiar truism for me about this idea is that when I have a preconceived notion of what a work of art will be, it tends to lack a little something. Not necessarily sterile or vapid, just less impactful. The work which results from following my gut and being responsive to opportunities tends to have a more alluring aspect.

After a while of presenting my work to the public, I noticed folks tended to gravitate to some paintings more than others. These paintings are typically the ones I embarked upon without a plan.

This brings to mind what my artist friend Rusty Wallace shared with me around the same time.

Psalm 119:105 “Your word is a lamp to guide my feet and a light for my path.”

He elaborated that this passage, interpreted in the context of the creative process, reveals that a lamp can only cast a light within a step of your space. Thus faith in the process reveals your next step into the darkness, and with that, the next and so on. You cannot see the entire path set before you. You have to take the steps to find the path.

While I am not a practitioner of the Christian faith, I can see the value in this passage as I had experienced it in the creative process.

So, I’m just going to take the next step and see where it takes me.