Hello bloggers.

I recently commented on the way I’ve begun ritualizing the act of taking my canvases out of their boxes.  As a general practice, I try to ritualize whenever I can and formalize the process.  I like to do this in mixing the paint, laying out the tools, opening the canvases, honoring each effort as I go, because these are my partners, my tools.  It’s almost like a surgeon looking at all of his instruments that he’ll be using in these very delicate, important surgeries.  I believe we should not take our tools for granted.

I have a way of throwing everything together, and for first and second and third glance it looks like hodgepodge and chaos, but there is a method to my madness.  If I throw a brush or a rag or a wrench I use to open cans of paint, I always throw it in the same place; so if I happen to find it in a different place, it might take me 10 minutes to find it again in the melee.  The older I get the more I make sure that there’s a special place for everyhting in this mess.

To me, my painting is very much an honoring ritual.  It probably comes from my Roman Catholic background and funeral-director background, where everything is ritualized.  As a funeral director, you have to know the ritualization of all faiths:  If it’s a Roman Catholic or Jewish funeral, or a funeral for a person of Polish ancestry or Lithuanian—do you turn to the left or the right at a certain point in the proceedings?  Do you nod to this person or that person?  All of these become so important when we’re laying our loved ones to rest, so by necessity, you had to always make sure you knew what you were doing and how you were doing it.

As human beings, we take great pleasure and meaning in rituals.  It seems to give form to things that we hold very dear and important.  I think all these elements are reasons why I ritualize.

Matt