Recent discussion on our Equine Art Guild group brought up the topic of pastels and the unique way in which artist Dawn Emerson handles them. I was very intrigued with her colourful portrayals of my favorite subject matter, the black Friesian horse. I just HAD to try something like it out as an exercise to satisfy my own curiousity. (I’m even more curious as to how she accomplishes what she does on hardboard! I wonder what she does to prep the surface to hold onto the pastels….)
Over the past few months, I have been experimenting with new techniques and mediums, wondering just where I fit in with all these unique styles. Am I doomed to forever portraying photo-realistic horses and wolves, or is there some unique inner voice in me that is waiting to be discovered on canvas? Or is my inner voice the realistic portrayal of that which I do not have? What do you all think? Is my art recognizably my own? Can you tell a Sheri Gordon original when you see one??
I know I certainly can tell a Kim McElroy or a Leslie Harrison original, two artists whom I admire deeply. And certainly, Dawn’s work is uniquely her own as well. Her horses are real enough yet artsy at the same time. A few other artists whose work intrigues me is Indra Singh and Susan Leyland. Their art is realistic yet artsy at the same time, something I wish I could achieve but so far, have not.
My ponderings have lead to some conclusions. For many years growing up, yearning for a horse of my own, I drew many fantastical creatures. Horses that were real yet not real. Something I sought but couldn’t quite get my hands on. I drew out of angst for the dream that I longed for.
Then 3yrs ago I was finally allowed to pursue a small part of that dream. Small being the operative word. 
Providence saw fit to bring a miniature black stallion into my life at a time when I was beginning to lose all hope that I ever would have a horse of my own.
While I was so happy to finally have a horse of my own, reality began replacing fantasy.
Horses aren’t at all like the animal we dream about. The Black Stallion, there is not. At least I haven’t discovered one yet. Animals love you because you feed them, take care of them, nothing more. Or so I was slowly beginning to realize. Don’t get me wrong, horses are great animals, but the “dream horse” fantasy that is magical and mystical and all powerful…well, hehehe, reality check, right?
Mundania hath replaced fantasy.
What do you do when the mundane invades into your life and you feel silly portraying the magical that you once did?
“Once Innocence is lost, can it be regained?”
Maybe it is just that I’ve been overworked and not had a whole lot of time for daydreaming, something I did daily and almost non-stop as a youngster. The fuel for my fire, the muse to my art, is fading away and I so desperately want to get it back.
Perhaps that is why I feel so confused lately as to what style of art I should be doing. Part of me wants to do the more serious “Carl Brenders” type of work, and part of me wants to do the more fantastical not necessarily realistic type of work. While I’m not looking to become “rich” from my artwork….a living would be enough, to cover my expenses and keep food on the table for the kids and my animals. The more serious work may sell to a wider audience, but the fantastical art carries deeper meaning and connection. Which way will I go? Perhaps both. Can an artist do that? I don’t see why not. Perhaps I will be the artist who can be recognized for doing what she wants and not listening to what convention say she should be drawing or painting. I don’t want to be pigeon-holed into one category of art or another. I can sympathize with Shania Twain, who could neither be categorized as a country singer or a rock singer. She has her own unique style. It certainly has worked for her! I’m sure it can work for me. 
ANYHOO, the whole point of my ramblings today was to show you all my exercise in the Dawn Emerson style. I tried it out on a piece of light colored barkskin paper which has quite a texture to contend with, but overall, it seems to have “worked”, albeit not as effortless looking as Dawn’s work. I tend to like to overwork things and go into too much detail. If there is one thing I HAVE learned i sthat an abstract artist, I most certainly am not!
