THE PHYSICALITY OF POURING PAINT
It’s hard to put into words—the feeling of pouring paint for me, physically. There’s just something about it. A good pour is like taking the perfect bite of a warm croissant that melts in your mouth. When your favorite song comes on and you can’t help but dance-that kind of feeling. Think of anything that makes your heart sing-that’s what pouring paint feels like to me.
It’s fast. Even a slow, thick pour has its own kind of velocity. Fluid. Liquid color. It’s an intense, almost addictive rush. I get in the zone, and that’s it. The world goes away. First the physical action of the pour. Then, watching the paint travel, breaking the surface, transforming a blank space into something defined—it’s exhilarating. It’s fascinating. I see a blank canvas & can’t wait to get my hands on it. I have to pour.
Of course, science plays a role in the physicality of pouring paint. As it does with everything in the universe. Gravity messes with me, but it also helps. The amount of water I use, the thickness of the paint, the container I pour from, the surface I pour onto—it all matters. If I don’t control these things, or pay attention to them, gravity makes the paint go into a circle in the middle of the canvas. The bigger the painting, the bigger the pour. The bigger the risk. And with gravity at my heels, control becomes even harder. I’ll take that challenge, thank you very much.
I have no patience for the drying period, but I’m forced to wait. Coming into the studio the next day or sometimes 2-3 days later waiting for a big pour to dry, feels like Christmas morning. I can’t wait to see how the gifts dried! Sometimes, it’s just underwear or socks—not exciting, but necessary to build on. Other times, it’s the exact bike I wanted, complete with the bell! Those are the pours that thrill me. I catch myself thinking, how did that happen? Wowie! The discovery the day after is almost as wonderful as the pour itself.
I’ve been painting for decades (am I really that old?), using this same technique. You’d think I’d have it all figured out after all these years. But there’s always something new to discover—new materials that change the pour, new surfaces to experiment with. Oh, the places we will go! Onward.