Fine Tuning Sensibilities

My latest explorations have brought up an issue that I haven't verbalized lately- that of scale. Scale is one of those words in painting that has many meanings. I wont go after the dictionary to bore you with the standard definitions, but one idea is the size of the representation relative to its borders- say a small dot that represents a city, or a picture of a flea that fills the frame. Another more obvious idea is the physical size of the piece. There is a tendency of reproductions to flip the relationship of size perceived- small paintings seem large, large seem small. So i've begun a 'large' painting (really what i'd like to call medium- but there are some practical constraints in my world) and there is something about its forms that make it feel quite small- in person even. Smaller than it is. It feels more like 14 inches instead of 56.

I ramble about this sense of space in painting because the abstract pieces that i'm working on are very much about that. And presence. Through looking at these minimalist abstract paintings, i find my senses becoming more fine tuned. One compositiion might feel 'drifty', another somehow 'intent', and another 'exclamatory'. The elements, despite being a simple line or patch of paint, seem to have independent character. Humble, snarky, I don't know how else to explain it. sleepy, curious, watchful. It is something one might only notice after spending much time with them- they aren't illustrations after all, so they won't hit you over the head with intentional content.

photos to follow.