Cerulean Horse
  Fluid, playful, distinctive horse art in watercolor and line

About the Artist

The essence of my art is discovery - the edge between allowing and control. Ny line drawings are based on "blind contour drawing", which is also a way of seeing. In blind contour drawing, the artist draws an object by looking at its contours - folds and edges - whether they appear on the outline or deep inside the object. "Blind" means that the artist doesn't look at the paper, they find their way with pen or pencil, which is never lifted from the page. A true blind contour drawing is made very slowly, as the pen explores each ridge and valley as if it were actually touching the surface of the object. The completed drawing is a surprise and a gift.

My talent is not for drawing - it is for persistence. I have learned by making nearly 10,000 horse drawings. Sometimes they are quite complex; sometimes they are simple and essential. Often they are a disaster - at least when looked at from the point of view of "product". But they are always done at a level outside of the conscious mind, by limiting my control. I usually move quickly, doing drawing after drawing until I reach a place where I am little more than a hand on the page.

My art is always best when I take a risk. In a watercolor painting, I wet a substantial portion of the page - soaking it with puddles - pick some paint on a brush and drop it in. I am completely present from the first explosion of color. It's a dynamic not unlike riding - I have an intention, a goal, and from moment to moment I must respond as the water moves and forms the color out from under my brush. Once a painting is started, the wet paper becomes my universe - a rapidly-drying, constantly-moving mingling of elements which I can influence but not control. Without white or opaque color, there is no turning back. I ride the wave until any more choices on my part would muddy or distort the painting. Then I walk away from the puddles and trust the water to take the painting where it will.

When I step back from my art, what always surprises me is the joy. It's not something I plan for, it's not something I'm aware of in my life from day-to-day. I have an intimate knowledge of grief and depression. Yet in my art, the light is always there, a gift of the water. For that, I am grateful.

Eliza