Being able to work in series gives me the ability to flesh out themes, revisit compositions, explore the deeper implications of ideas, and try out new techniques. Now I was free to experiment, and to take chances. If, once again, the medium took over, it was “okay.” I’d follow it, not to the cliff’s edge or over it but to a point in the process where I learned something I needed to know. “Try it, let’s see where it goes,” became my credo.
As a consequence, my inner critic was muted. Imperfection or even failure became an acceptable option. You can’t hit a home run at every at bat. The game always has more innings. Tomorrow’s work might bear fruit as I explored a possibility arising out of yesterday’s efforts.
My series began small, just five to ten pieces. At first I couldn’t move between mediums, like working from wax crayons to paint. But I kept pushing and eventually overcame the resistance. Even after putting a theme aside for years, I found I was able to work on the series up again, my interest renewed by the passing of time. Holocaust Series.
Sometimes, using many mediums, I would explore an idea for months. Atlas of the Mind, a three or four month series, resulted in over 100 works on paper, including: collages, pen & ink drawings and prints.
While I still find time for one-of-a-kind explorations, most of my time is spent working on series. One must do both. Series are born of singular works. Luna Park, my most recent series, grew out of two small ballpoint drawings completed years ago. When they emerged from my flat files, I saw a potential in them I hadn’t seen before. At present, this series contains more than thirty pieces: pen & ink drawings, black & white transfer prints, and paintings on paper.