Now I See

Studio Reflection Number 4 in a Series of 12

Sometimes when I complete a work it’s clear to me what it “is.” Then there are the other times where I just can’t quite figure it out. This piece was one of those.

When I first thought I was finished with this, I didn’t like it. Even though the colors, texture and layers were appealing, it didn’t arouse any real feelings in me. I set it aside and ignored it for several weeks. Finally, after working on other pieces, I went back to it, resolved to find some kind of meaning in it or to change it in some way that would elicit a response. And after looking at it from every orientation, I found that turning it ninety degrees intrigued me, so I worked on it a little more in this new orientation; covering over parts, pulling off layers, and adding more paint.

While I didn’t experience it as a landscape in the traditional sense, I felt as though I was standing within a landscape that won’t stay still. The familiar cues are there—horizon, ground, distance—but they aren’t settled. My perception was that the earth had shifted, making orientation uncertain. It was then when I realized uncertainty, maybe even anxiety, was at the heart of this artwork.

The warm passages near the bottom suggest solid ground to me, while above them the composition tilts and fractures. Layers separate to reveal more layers. Even the cloud-like white passage with hints of orange near the top seems to reach downward, quietly reconnecting with the fragments of color in the ground plane below. As I thought about it more, I realized that the angular, tilting movement wasn’t simply disrupting the landscape, it was exposing it.

There are moments in life when everything appears stable, and because it appears stable, we never notice what lies beneath the surface. It isn’t until something shifts—sometimes unexpectedly, or even painfully—that hidden layers become visible. What we thought was solid, cracks. What was buried is revealed. We get a glimpse of what was overlooked. Even though instability and exposure can be unsettling, the revelation it brings can be a gift. Because once something hidden is brought to light, we are no longer living in illusion. We may not immediately know what to do with what we see, but seeing is the beginning. This is how this painting finally found its meaning and its title—Now I See.

Thank you so much for taking the time to read Visual Coffee Break. If you want to see my process in action you can visit my YouTube channel, Creative Explorations with Cynthia.

~Cynthia