I have always deeply admired painters who could reference real life and yet be unconstrained by reality. To draw or paint what clearly could be recognized, and yet freely change the color, the shape, the volume, the texture, and use it as a simple tool of composition. A means to an end. The end being something that in no way looks "real" or photographic, but takes on a new life, and in its originality, is life-giving in its own way. I saw it in some of my friends, particularly one guy who was a photography student, but took a painting class, and made these stunning still lives that looked like Matisse. They were just perfect. Completely 2-dimensional, about paint and surface and exquisitely composed.
Pierre Bonnard comes to mind, and Wolf Kahn, and Mark Rothko, if you can think of the simplicity of field and sky and the horizon line created by their kiss. Some have more depth and literal shapes than others. But I never felt free or able to paint in that way. I always felt the constraint of reality on my shoulders. I put myself behind a fence, somehow, and couldn't break it. I couldn't find a way to make marks that spoke of the surface or the medium or the color more than the subject matter. Anyway, I'm working on that, to state it simply. And the learning curve is steep, but I'm going to enjoy it. Pastel on bristol.
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