A blank canvas is a vast expanse of possibilities. It is almost unbearable, but if I throw caution to the wind and leap into the nothing, all else falls away and I am. Pablo Picasso says: “The chief enemy of creativity is good sense.” Good sense, in my mind, is the voice of fear—that which says “You can’t, nothing will come, it won’t be any good.”
Sonnet XLII – #1
Who is to say what is good and bad? I refuse to be held captive by some long forgotten person telling me “That doesn’t look like a tree or a horse or whatever.” If there is one thing I strive for in my painting practice, it is to turn off judgment and let in playful joy—the kind we all had as children before we tried to paint something specific, before art became about finished product and not about experience.
I begin with stillness, I quietly, slowly clean my space—or not, some days require jumping in like a maniac, with the music blaring. I then squeeze delicious colours out of their tubes. Is it a blue day? Quite often it is; I find blues and greys are so comforting. Next, mix—mixing, luscious piles of subtle tones; stirring as if it were icing for a cake. There are times when the colours are so yummy I almost want to consume them.
One may think of painting as a purely visual experience, but for me the smell and feel of my oil paints are as much a part of the painting as what I can see. The music I choose to listen to, my mood, the temperature of the room, the tea I’m drinking, all play a significant role in the manner in which I approach the looming whiteness before me.
In these paintings of gratitude I start with a thin wash of paint all over the canvas, if possible I try not to think. It is like a meditation—no thought, just being. Lots of drips and splashes occur—watch out walls. Some weeks are a riot of colour and others are demure greys; it doesn’t matter, I’m just playing. I tell you, there is nothing so fun as splooshing around paint with not a care in the world—try it.
Sonnet XLII – #2
For my current painting—Sonnet XLII,
“Radiant days balanced by the sea water, concentrated like the inside of a yellow stone whose splendor of honey did not bring disorder: but preserved its rectangular purity…..
The words inspired or echoed my feelings of my stay in Greece this summer. To Begin with I held a picture of the view from my veranda on Samos, I remembered the warmth, the smell of the Mediterranean, the taste of the desert wine they served at the local taverna. I didn’t try to paint it or Neruda’s poem, I painted from them—the sense memories were my starting point.
I find that Rainer Maria Rilke, in his directions for writers, captures most eloquently what I do with painting.
“Go into yourself. Find out the reason that commands you to write; see whether it has spread its roots into the very depths of your heart; confess to yourself whether you would have to die if you were forbidden to write.
Sonnet XLII – #3
This most of all: ask yourself in the most silent hour of your night: must I write? Dig into yourself for a deep answer. And if this answer rings out in assent, if you meet this solemn question with a strong, simple “I must,” then build your life in accordance with this necessity; your whole life, even into its humbles
t and most indifferent hour, must become a sign and witness to this impulse. Then come close to Nature. Then, as if no one had ever tried before, try to say what you see and feel and love and lose”… Rainer Maria RilkeThe second layer of paint has a little more though put into it. I drape colours over the base that compliment and contradict each other; there is still no form—only colour and mood. Then comes a layer of boldness—thick paint smeared across the delicate under layers creating a divide, a very physical presence. After this I paint tender, glazes over the upper portion of the piece. I end with chance—a mixture of varnish, oil, turpentine and paint thrown over the canvas. I sit back and watch the alchemy happen; the under layers loosen, mix, change where the turpentine interacts with the still wet paint; the varnish leaves a thick shine on some areas, the colours mix and change creating oily-looking puddles.
XLII – #4 – Completed
This last step takes the most courage; especially if I like the painting; there is the possibility that the alchemy goes wrong and results in lead instead of gold. After many ‘failed’ attempts, I’ve decided that lead is as wonderful as gold, it all depends on how you look at it. Plus there is always the possibility of another layer of paint; and who knows what that would bring.
Image Credits
All Images Are © Soleil Mannion
Soleil Mannion Artist Bio
Born in the Netherlands, Soleil Mannion’s formative years were spent in Vancouver, B.C. Her travels through the dramatic landscapes and seascapes of the Pacific coast awakened her artistic insight and personal aesthetic.
In 1991, Soleil moved to London, England to engage in multidisciplinary art studies – drama, dance, and costume design. As she went on to work and teach in acting and costume design, she refined her sensitivity to lighting and spatial dimension – elements which have played central roles in her paintings and mixed-media works ever since.
While overseas, Soleil traveled through Europe, cultivating an openness to aesthetic discoveries along the way. One year in the Netherlands inspired an increasing love of open spaces – for their aesthetic possibilities and meanings, and also for their emotional potential. Two years in Greece and Italy rewarded her with a sharp sense of the various powers of warm light and subtle colour.
In 2003, Soleil moved to Vancouver Island and completed fine art studies at Vancouver Island University. Soleil is an artist who seeks to call forth an initial feeling response with her work, which can soften armour and open doors to imaginative and thinking engagement with art.
Soleil began mounting solo exhibitions in 2005. Her work is in many private collections world wide and can be viewed at The Gallery at Matticks Farm, Sooke Harbour House, Brentwood College School and her home studio in Mill Bay.
Website: SoleilMannion.com
Blog: Soleil is Painting
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Recent Guest Artist Articles:
- Golden Memories
- Orca in Transit by Trial Island Lighthouse
- "Listen, I Have Something To Tell You"
- All The Art I Will Never Make
- From My Sketchbook
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