June 18, 2021
I'm writing today with a large iced coffee in hand waiting for a huge canvas covered in gesso to dry... A fan is also blowing in my face. I just dropped a roll of mylar on my toes so today is feeling chaotic but let's see what I come up with for this newsletter.
I'm not quite sure what this newsletter will be, but I am probably just gonna make it up as I go :o) It probably will be a lot of just "here's some new artwork I've been making" but I want to try to make it something more interesting.... Inspiration, thoughts, stories, memories. Things that go on in my head while I make the artwork that will inevitably be showcased.
This past month, I've been thinking about summer days at Yin Yin's house (Yin Yin is my family's word for our grandma, it's not from the Chinese word for grandma and I'm pretty sure it isn't Burmese either, so we might have made it up as kids). Her lawn doesn't have the more desirable grass found throughout the suburbs of LA that is soft and svelte with a deep green color. Yin Yin's grass is a lighter green. It's thicker and harder with a sharp and scratchy, but supportive feeling under our bare feet. She also had a large flowering tree out front that is no longer standing.
Google Street View image of Yin Yin's tree from March 2012
As kids, we were told the tree's flowers were jasmine, however upon more recent investigation (and from taking care of my own jasmine plant) I now believe it was a magnificent white magnolia tree or something related (sorry, dad). When the tree bloomed, we would pick the white buds that we could reach right before they fully blossomed and bring them into our charcoal Suburban on our way home. Placed in the air vents on top of the dash, the flowers perfumed the entire car with the most pleasant floral aroma. By the end of the day, the car smelled incredible. Meanwhile, the flowers quickly burnt into a dry brown papery skin in the harsh sun and dry air.
My jasmine is flourishing and just started its first bloom of the summer.
In addition to my own memories, I've been looking at photos that my YeYe (Chinese for grandfather) took from an unknown time period when my father was a child in Myanmar. His photos are an interesting look into his business travels between China and Myanmar. There's pictures of him with his pals, at factories, with some random statues, and lots of bridges.
People constructing something. an awning? some sort of roof?
This photograph reminds me of Hiroshi Sugimoto's seascapes or even delicately drawn lithographs by Vija Celmins
It's interesting to see these old photographs because I've learned that Ye Ye had an eye for composition and light. There photographs he took that are even more stunning than the ones I chose for this newsletter that I will probably share in a later newsletter...
A photograph reflects what the photographer sees, and the eye is the entryway to the soul... Or something along those lines; I'm not Susan Sontag... But in these photographs I can feel peace in Ye Ye's soul.
Peace. Tranquility. Stillness. All have been on my mind settling into a new city, especially one so filled with chaotic energy. I'm currently working on some new paintings and drawings, but I'm also excited to be able to work on a new self-published lithographic edition which I will hopefully be able to share images of in my next newsletter. My work in the studio (and by studio I mean corner of my studio apartment) lately has been less active, but I am still making things... slowly...
I'll end this first newsletter with a photo of a small drawing I recently completed, and if you follow me on instagram you probably have already seen.
hopefully I'll think of something else to write about soon and keep this newsletter regularly occuring.
<3
Nathan
A Vase I Found in Fort Greene with Flowers
6 1/4 x 9 1/4 inches
Ink on Paper