Once lived a boy who had a Pink Tailed Fish as his pet. He didn’t remember how the Fish ended up with him. The Boy held it in a fish tank. He kept his home dark at all times, so the Fish would feel comfortable being with him. The Boy walked the Fish outside during rainy days and nights. There was never a sign of any one on the streets. He wondered if he was the only boy on this Earth.
The Fish grew larger and larger every day. Pretty soon it outgrew its fish tank and had to be moved into the bathtub. The Boy ran the shower on the Fish at all times.
A big storm passed by one night. It shook the house to the core making all fall smashing onto the ground. With the first rays of the morning sun the storm flew off into the distance.
The Blue Boy Richard went to the bathroom to check on his pet. There was no bathtub in the room. The Fish was also nowhere to be found. A huge hole gapped on the side of the wall where the shower once stood. The sun shone brightly through the ruins. The Blue Boy Richard stepped outside and found all these people, he thought didn’t exist, enjoying themselves on the streets.
Yesterday I read an article about how they are incorporating x-ray scan system to reveal what is underneath of old paintings. Essentially, with these types of “reveals,” art sellers are looking for stories, which would make already an expensive painting by a dead artist even more expensive, because, you know, this painting is actually two paintings in one, so I am going to charge you twice. Of course, these mystery reveal stories are exciting and I am the first one on line to read them, but for some reason I have this nagging feeling that somebody is exploiting all these stories just to get their pockets stuffed, even though artists, whose works are being sold, died penniless.
I won’t lie, a part of the reason why I am running this blog is to become this “scanner” for you. I’d rather reveal these stories myself than am caught with my pans around my ankles, buried six feet under. I don’t mind to be found in a compromising position, but, come on, I am dead there, so where is the fun for me, huh?
This idea is not new, but it is always exciting. I might get myself into this overthinking mode, but I will just shut up and continue what I have already began with my paintings from the very first blob of an oily color I put on an empty surface at G.’s place, who said, that I must paint after finding me covered in paint early in the morning, still without a minute of rest from the world which was opening up in front of me with every brush stroke I made while all was still and sleepy.
The Kiss Goodbye already has that effortless feel, but this starring at me character at the center of the canvas wants to come out to the front and be more visible.
My “Orange Kiss Goodbye” (The Kiss Goodbye) is not done yet. I want to check how the canvas could look if I completely cover the whole “mysterious character’s face” in a different color, giving it a certain, almost graffiti like, feel. I am still hesitating, but I shouldn’t be, because well, it is my work and I deal with it the way I need to. The dilemma I am having is that I already like the painting even though I am bothered by this feeling that something is still missing like, for example, this mysterious character I am trying to highlight, making it more permanent on the surface. The character is most likely happening. I just need to spend a bit of time away from the painting to be able to see how it should be done.
The story of The Blue Boy Richard with His Pink Tailed Pet Fish is still in the works, though the character on the canvas is a portrait of somebody I was in love with some time ago.
The droopy eyes and the cracked lips, oh and the pink beret in front of the Pink Tailed Pet Fish.
What I remember clearly about him are his lips, a lot of times cracked from the cold or dehydration. He lived with me, but he also dated somebody else, which, it seemed, made his lips crack even more. For the reveal of the full story you will need to wait a bit, you know, maybe a century or two, because I might be refused the privileges of “still un-dead artist” and might find some dead fish in my bed as the sign of… well, You Are a Dead Fish now, if I reveal the story before its time, meaning, the people in the tale are still alive and strong enough to beat me up somewhere in a dark alley. You say: “cracked lips? I’ll give you some cracked lips, just watch,” ha.
Oh the mess of falling in love and making all kinds of chaotic decisions because of it. I made quite a few, but hey, they are like this cut ear of the artist you all, I am sure, know. Oh the dramatics of late night calls from lovers, which only proved, we all walked the fish in the rain as some kind of dog on a leash.
My love interest lived with me until the fish began to stink. One day he was not there, the fish was also nowhere to be found. It all got stolen by the alley cat, it seemed. Where he is now, I do not know, but I hope he is okay. The Boy is a type of person who always has this sadness about himself like his pink tailed pet fish he walks from place to place.
Originally written on 02-18-18, edited on 12-02-19
Today I was up with the sun, watched how its dark orange turned into white, got out of my bed at eight, took a few photos before the sun moved, jumped into the shower, sat down and now am wandering why I struggle with some paintings while others seem to be painting themselves. Every time something like that happens I inspect my work trying to find spots “I should be working on” because, you know, it took only a few strokes of paint to reveal what was hidden on a canvas.
The main figures/characters were finished quite quickly on this canvas with a few strokes of paint.
I can’t find anything “that needs fixing” on this resent painting. If I begin fiddling around with the canvas, I am pretty sure I am going to get a completely different image on it. These characters I have now would be gone. In a situation like this I begin to wonder if this is the direction I want to go with my other works. I can’t find an answer to that. I am going to leave this last painting the way it is now, as different as it is from other of my paintings. Some time ago I didn’t know what kind of direction I was going with them either, so to ask this question now is kind of pointless.
I should say that the way the series of color character portraits appeared to me after I painted The Blue Boy Richard with His Pink Tailed Pet Fish made me realize that this large painting of two people hugging might be the one that gives me a hint about what I should be going for next. Observing how I put paint on canvas now fascinates me. I see how my technique is changing. I started to use a lot of water making colors change in density. That is quite unusual for me considering my earlier works with oils. I looked for thickness and saturation. My paintings are becoming very watercolor-like with see through areas layered in different transparencies.
Under the Blue Wing (oil on canvas circa 1995) was all about thickness and texture of oils.
Before starting this canvas I imagined how I was going to put the paint in transparent layers creating denser spots, revealing forms and characters through them. I was not expecting my work to happen the way it is happening right now. I am a bit surprised and am questioning the direction I am taking with this one. This questioning often times is funny, because who the f**k cares. Follow creative energy and enjoy the process. Be glad there is a movement in your work allowing the change to happen.
I don’t need to remind myself about some struggle I had with some of my works. I struggled because I listened to my head and painted things “where they were supposed to be painted,” not where my emotions were guiding me to paint them. In a way I became too clinical with some of my canvases. Of course, when a painting like the one I painted yesterday happens I go, hmm, so where and what do I fix now, because, you know, it must be something that is not working there.
But then I stare at the painting and feel, it needs to stay the way it is. I might think later: “and what the f**k was I thinking about leaving the canvas the way it is now?” But I am familiar with this feeling. It happens with most of my canvases. My works really start living their lives when I completely forget about them but then rediscover with a fresh look. Usually only then I can tell that yes, this canvas or that piece is done. They are already claiming their existence, so there is nothing for me to do but let them live.
I guess it is harder for me to comprehend what is going on with my work because I am still developing my style. I am still trying to domesticate this wild horse I have running amok in the fields, so of course when something like that happens I get surprised and have all these questions for myself. I know for sure I am not interested in the naturalistic/realistic portray of my surroundings and people. Yes, I adore the technique artists who paint realistic images have, but I know that that type of work is not for me.
Yes, to study a human body and its movement, face and its expressions is crucial for me, but I am not interested in painting somebody’s portrait as realistically as I possibly can. There are plenty of artists who do this type of work impeccably. Would I be interested in learning how to do it the way they do it? Of course. I am in a way doing it now but through a very peculiar approach.
When I wrote my first fairy tales in English it was about writing and learning how to write in a different language through something I deeply cared about. The mundane descriptions of my room were just not for me. Because I wrote about something I deeply cared my writings improved. I sense a similar approach to my learning about human anatomy and movement. I need to feel the image I am working on to be able to keep my focus on it. Or I become too clinical. I lose my touch. A painting in work might go through so many changes that I would not even know which one was the one I was going for. I find my own ways how to draw a line that reveals a movement or an expression I am going for.
I realize that even though I adore the finished works of painters who paint things and people in realistic way, I love the ones that leave something out or are saying more with less. I don’t really need to see a perfectly drawn eye to perceive the eye in a painting. A hint of an eye gives me way more space for interpretation. Our vision somehow naturally makes all these connections. For it sometimes is enough just to have a hint like in those English reading tests when words are misspelled on purpose where only the first and the last letters are correct. The amazing thing is we recognize words immediately and continue on reading these misspelled texts as if the words were spelled correctly.
If you are successful in defining “the beginning” and “the end” of something on a canvas the image you hint towards to magically appears in front of you. This is exactly what I feel right now while looking at my latest large painting of two people hugging or rather one guy leaning on another guy’s shoulder while the guy on whom the other guy is leaning is freaking out.
Sometimes it is enough to get one line right to reveal an emotion/body movement/character all together.
The fear of touch, (oh maybe that should be the name of the painting?) “The Fear of the Blue Touch.” There are a few things that I love about this name: one – “blue” in Lithuanian slang means “gay;” second – “blue” indicates sadness, so you are not only afraid to be touched by a gay person, you are also afraid to become sad because of it. Yes, now I understand that the painting is finished. Yes, it felt like it painted itself, but that is probably how I should feel with every painting. They should feel as if they paint themselves. I am just some kind of transmitter of the energy that goes through me and ends up on the canvas.
I believe I found something of importance for myself describing my process of creation. The most interesting revelation for me was to find this connection between our languages and our eyes and brains. No wonder my mind is quick in seeing things, faces, movement while I look at something that represents something else. Many times when I stare at the same spot for a long time I begin seeing characters almost as if drown by the nature or the universe. I know that most would just see some dirt splattered on the snow while my eyes are constantly looking for that “beginning and the end” of an image in those splats. When my eyes find it, the image appears to me as if: “hey what are you staring at, I was always here, there is nothing new, just me, the image you are seeing now and no, I am not some kind of dirt you think you were looking at, I know myself as an image of a bird, screaming bird, for that matter, so stop staring and move on.”
Just some snow, shadows and lines in the snow for your viewing pleasure.
The same way I am attracted to certain writers I am attracted to certain painters. I know that not everyone is going to understand my fascinations, but that is perfectly fine. They are not me and I am not them. Life would be quite boring if everyone would like the same things. Well, we do tend to appreciate similar things, but when it comes to certain taste we wary and that is great!
Yes, sometimes I do not understand certain fascinations towards certain trends, but that’s fine, there are plenty of things for all of us to appreciate in our unique ways. One loves Mona Lisa, because it is expensive, the other loves it because it is a masterpiece. I find Mona Lisa overrated, gasp! But that’s me. I’d rather have something by Harring on my wall than Mona Lisa.
Okay, I just thought about something while using the restroom, ha. I have this blog hanging on me called “Under the Fluorescent Light” which was started with an intention to write and show my creative process. It got abandoned, because, well, because I actually need to write and edit things for it. I remembered how G. told me that I should explain my art, explain the way I see it. The blog is a perfect opportunity for me to put all of it into one place and start showing my work to the world. Of course this is more for me than anybody else. This is my way to document my work and later present it to the public. Since I don’t have a gallery to show my canvases in, I need to use what is available for me and that is the Internet. The audiences are out there staring at their screens. Now it is my work to get them to know me and my art better.
Every blog entry should have a finished painting I talk about, the process and the stories that come out of it. I just need to start doing it. The rest is going to fall into places. Every time I finish one or another painting I complete it with a blog entry where I present to the audiences my process and the painting itself. I know this sounds like a bunch of me, me, mes, but there is a need for me to be out with my work, how else others are going to find out about it if not through my own introduction, besides I have documented all of this, so that is no brainer.
Of course my brain goes berserk now because it wants to go “from the beginning” and that is just laughable. This is exactly why the blog didn’t go anywhere. I was constantly “getting ready” to work on it “from the beginning.” No, I am going to go from whatever comes to my mind first and whatever gets me excited and inspired, so if I start it with this last painting of mine, so be it. I believe I have already made the entry with today’s writings. I just need to edit them a bit and I am good to go.
I am looking at my recent painting and it is poking at me: “you need to relax and let your hands do the magic.” It is fine if the painting is a bit different and not exactly what I was expecting it to be. At the end it is going to be exactly the way it should be. I need to lose all this imaginary responsibility of how one or another thing has to look. It is a complete bullshit which is only in my head. Understanding about my paintings comes to me not through my head but through a feeling which is hard to describe. This feeling just lets me know that a painting is done. I might be thinking over one or another canvas for days, but the result somehow is achieved by this unexplained sense. It leads my hands and then “it” happens – this sudden realization that a painting is finished.
Sometimes I have to drastically cover areas in my paintings that don’t work for me. This picture shows how I covered with the white the area which used to be painted with the turquoise green.
Funny how I am constantly on this weird brink of questioning myself about why in the world I am doing all this? Thankfully this question is like some kind of fog which dissipates the moment I start painting. It would be interesting though to find the answer to why I am painting and why I am doing all this creative work nobody would miss if I would not do. At the moment only a very few know that I paint. There are canvases nobody has seen. This situation to me sounds like asking the question: does a tree make a sound in the forest if nobody hears it fall?
Originally written on 02-10-18
Yesterday I made a huge improvement on my Naphthol Crimson Wrench Head Danny. I went through a few of “oh my god I am not sure if it is working” thoughts, but now I might be pretty close to finishing this painting. I am learning about the naphthol crimson so much, but it is still giving me weird results. The color just doesn’t lay the same way other colors do. If I mix it with the white it becomes pink and if I leave it by itself it tends to look a bit dirty, which is okay when I need this result.
The red of the square “beard” on the lower left looks dirty while it looks the way I need it to look on the top portion of the canvas.
I added some turquoise green to the painting. The color is working, though I did ask myself “why am I using these weird colors?” once yesterday. The whole point is, I am using these colors the way I am to make them look appealing. I don’t want to skip certain combinations and just stick to the familiar ones. That’s too predictable. My approach to the use of colors is a bit based/influenced by the graffiti culture/art. You have only a certain color in your spray can/paint container and you make it work. Many graffiti artists usually don’t have enough money to buy expensive paint so they use the paint they have on hand. This is quite true in my situation. I literally have a certain amount of jars and tubes on my table, so I pick one of them and say, today I am going to communicate through you, my dear, and I go on painting. Of course I could have easily dropped the naphthol crimson and paint over it with some other “less tricky” color, but this red has something I need to uncover. The naphthol crimson is also a hard color to photograph. It is amazing how it changes throughout the day with different light. So no, I am not giving up on the color.
Under the ceiling light the painting loses all the details I need to see.The cold light reflecting from the snow outside brings out the turquoise green and gives the red a cooling effect.
I should say I do like the name I just gave to the canvas “My Naphthol Crimson Wrench Head Danny” (with the turquoise green beard (maybe to add later?)) I should start signing my paintings the day I finish them, not after a few days of waiting, questioning if there is anything else I need to work on. You already should trust yourself enough to know when the painting is done, sign and move to the next one. There is always going to be this “something to improve” feeling. It is normal. With every new painting you learn and improve your skills. Of course, a painting I painted a few years back is going to look different from the one I paint today. It is okay to be a little unsure. That is where my feelings should be. When I am totally sure, which I don’t know if it is ever going to happen, I might be in some kind of trap. Being unsure is okay. It means I moved into a certain territory I am not familiar with. Sign your work and move to another canvas.
The turquoise green became more permanent on the canvas.
I should say I am quite impressed by the amount of paintings I was able to produce in a year. After I finished my novel around this time last year I moved into the next creative stage, preparation for an exhibition. At the start my work on canvases was sporadic, but then, when the weather cooled down, I was able to find certain time slot meant only for the painting.
I am still to attack my large canvases which are patiently waiting for me in the corner. I will need to cover my room’s floor with paper, because I use more paint and it tends to drip more when I work on them. I am thinking on exploring body movement, but I am open to anything that happens. It just makes sense to me to have my focus towards “expression of emotional body movement.” I concentrate more on “portraiture” on my small canvases.
Only after I painted the portrait of R. as “the Blue Boy with the Violet Beret in front of His Pet Pink Tailed Dolphin (Fish)” (The Blue Boy Richard with His Pink Tailed Pet Fish) I felt like I was going somewhere with the series (I like this way of naming my paintings). For N.’s painting: “N. or the Interrupted Tea Party” sounds right. R.’s name is a bit clunky. Names of my paintings are getting clearer. I need a bit more time for “editing” the way I do for my writings. First draft is always very messy, but then the clean up begins and little by little my sentences become more to the point with less of needless explanation and ornamentation. This realization about my writings comes to me through my work on my paintings.
The painting I worked on yesterday was finished almost as if somebody or something stopped me and removed me from it. It was a peculiar feeling. Here is how it happened. I was ready to go for a jog at three in the afternoon. While passing by my easel I returned to the painting and made some strokes with paint knife. The next thing I know three in the afternoon became four. Without much thinking I stopped my work and went for a run. I came back from my jog, looked at the painting. It was clear, the painting was done.
This is what I started with in the morning knowing perfectly well how much I still needed to accomplish on the canvas.
Before I went for a run I thought that there was going to be something to fix on the canvas the next day, but when I looked at it after the run I burst into a laugh. The painting was giving me a character expressing this hard to define mood of “whatever bitch.”
I looked a this piece of work after my jog. I was not sure if I was laughing because of the character I painted on the canvas or because I was surprised by the effect and energy this painting was giving me.
This painting showed me what I enjoy seeing in paintings. It also gave me a glimpse of how my skill set is developing. It is funny to catch myself on a thought that every last painting I create, that painting becomes my favorite, of course, until the next one.
I used only the hooker’s green hue with the white on the painting I keep calling “Mike or Whatever Bitch.” The painting was done using only one brush and a paint knife. I became more aware of how I hold my paint tools and what kind of brush and knife strokes come out of me. There is this feeling that I want to bring more weird characters like that onto my canvases. They create specific moods I go for. I wonder if all this development on my small canvases is going to translate into my large ones.
Originally written on 01-30-18
It is quite amazing to experience the same feeling I get while rehearsing in theater from my work on my canvases. Let me explain what I mean by that. There is always this one day during rehearsals when almost as if by some sudden magic you get the key to whatever needs to happen next, almost like some kind of revelation about what you actually enjoy seeing in your work.
So now I look at my last two canvases and grasp that this type of paintings I like myself. There is a certain relaxation about how the paint should be laid. It almost feels like my brush/knife strokes are on the edge of being accidental. The amazing part in this is, my hands somehow already know where and what to put on a canvas to achieve this relaxed-on-the-edge-of-being-accidental feel. Of course after a few more paintings I might be crying here from frustration that somehow this is not happening the way it should be or clap my hands about how I found a new way to lay my paint down. All this doesn’t matter now. What matters at the moment is the result I have on these two canvases.
The Blue Boy Richard and His Pink Tailed Pet Fish in the morning light.Mike or Whatever Bitch is as surprised as I am seeing the sun in the morning.
Funny how sometimes when I get too tense in my hands and shoulders while putting paint on a canvas I actually have to remind myself to relax and let my hands do their work, because somehow they know what to do next. Then there is another feeling I get after painting in very intense strokes. My eyes all of a sudden focus into subtle detailing and my brush strokes become completely different.
At the moment I have a canvas covered with cadmium orange hue. It is playing nicely with the hooker’s green on Mike or Whatever Bitch. Sticking to one color is the key for me right now. Of course I might find myself putting some paint strokes using another color. But this type of strokes should become either very subtle or very strong. They really should become about the other color rather than the one I start with. Now that I think The Blue Boy Richard and His Pink Tailed Pet Fish became that type of a painting. I started with the violet, but then covered everything with the cerulean blue leaving just a bit of the violet I started with on the canvas.
While contemplating yesterday’s work I am beginning to find little things that excite me on this painting I am in the middle of creating. It seems like weirdly painted faces with droopy eyes and mouths full of teeth with cracked lips make me smile. Several paintings like that placed next to each other make my mind wonder into some exciting places.
A detail from The Blue Boy Richard and His Pink Tailed Pet Fish, cracked lips and droopy eyes make me smile.
For example, yesterday I painted a portrait of a blue boy and his pet fish behind him. (I need to add to the description/name, “blue boy with a pink (or violet) beret.”) I kept thinking, this is a portrait of somebody I know. (I probably should call the painting “Richard – the blue boy with a violet beret with his pet fish behind him” or something like that.) The painting is not done yet, but I have a feeling that I should stay away from the picture of the boy which, I believe, is already done. I need to stay away from it the way I did from The Blue Angst until I looked at the painting with fresh eyes.
The other day our neighbors came by to sell some chocolate and we gave them a tour of the house. We finished in my room and I started showing my paintings to the ten years old neighbor’s daughter. She enjoyed looking at the finished canvases, but there was one comment she made about my paintings being creepy. I realized that this is exactly what my paintings are, creepy with some unexpected giggle.
I am leaning towards the work on smaller canvases at the moment. I am not sure why. It could be that it is easier for me to manage a smaller surface while filling it up with characters. But my approach to large canvases is somewhat similar. The only difference between small and large canvases is in the time spent on finishing them. A large painting, you would think, takes longer to complete, but this is quite opposite right now. I spend more time on my small canvases detailing them. On large ones I use broader strokes and it “feels” that I finish them faster. But again, the detailing happens there too, so really there is not much of a difference when it comes to working on any size.
When it comes to defining clearer my “style,” I am still looking for my pony to ride. Not sure when I am going back to my oils, but the time is approaching. My acrylics are disappearing little by little from my supply box. Sometimes I feel like I don’t have enough colors nor paint to cover my canvases.
Just now I caught a great shadow on “The Blue Boy with the Violet Beret” and started thinking if I should create this effect permanently on the canvas by painting the light on the character’s face the way it is falling on it right now. Of course the easiest way would be just putting a light and directing it in a certain way that it would create this effect. But I wonder what I would need to do if I to create these permanent shadows. Of course the manipulation of colors and their shades would do the task of creating this effect.
The face of the Blue Boy Richard is lit by the sun. It creates a dramatic effect.
In a way I am already doing something similar with my previous painting The Pilot. It is one of those paintings that went through many stages. I could just have stopped at any of them and be fine with the work, but, I should say, I am very glad I didn’t, because the ending result is what needed to happen. The painting has just enough of weirdness and it is very rich in imagery.
The portrait of the Pilot is almost done.
The character of the pilot is not visible right away. There are other characters you need to “read through” if you want to get the whole image and story of the painting. These other characters are preventing your eyes from the direct, simplified image of the main portrait. You need to go through a puzzle creating some connections between characters which later give you the image of the pilot.
Follow the lines, see the characters, reveal the image of the pilot holding the moon in his mouth.
You already know how I like to look for connections and solve creative puzzles. I believe this vision got amplified after my mushroom experiences. There is way much more behind the flat world we see every day. Sometimes I find myself dealing with my lines as connectors of a larger and more intricate puzzle, revealing something that hides behind them. I do love this game.
I have been in situations when my exes accused me of complicating things because of “what does this or that mean?” questions. Now I know that exactly this questioning is my strength. I can find connections in places or between things which people usually dismiss or would not pay attention to. I like taking two, sometimes very opposite, objects and look for meaningful links between them.
That is pretty much how I create my paintings. An initial idea or impulse gives me a start on a canvas, then I am led by lines and colors I find engaging until the final result “reveals itself.” That is why sometimes it is hard for me to make certain decisions because one decision usually means that by giving a more vivid picture, by highlighting something, I have to dismiss some of the bonds between lines, colors, characters and stories which are more subtle.
UNDER THE FLUORESCENT LIGHT 
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