Black Ants, Peonies and Painting

What are the limitations of "pretty pictures" to the search for beauty, authenticity and dare I mention, truth?  Without the black ants,  the short lived breathtaking beauty of peonies doesn't quite emerge.  Is an artist part of the scene or an outsider evaluating from afar or both? Is my presence as an artist better if hidden like the ants or out there like the peonies?

This past week I have been enjoying the companionship of outdoor painters.   I was working on evolving my process into maybe stronger statements by exploring new ways of seeing.  I value including the off beat and quirky into my process.  I am trying to avoid formulas. Sometimes, unknowingly,  I merely exchange one formula for another.  Every once in a while I try something that makes me uncomfortable.  I enjoy keeping a journal rather than creating "hoping to sell" paintings.  It is more meaningful to me. Black ants are an important though hidden part of the scene. As usual I am writing in metaphors and only using those wonderful black ants as a way of saying that I am struggling with how much of the real/unpleasant to include in my output.

In the meantime, I recommend the poem "Peonies" by Mary Oliver

on left page, a collage, using snippets from a painting workshop