Emerging from the Pantheon at Dusk

Pantheon, Italywise

Looking out from the Pantheon entrance at dusk.

The Pantheon is my favorite landmark in Rome. The sense of awe I feel when I round the corner and see this massive feat of architectural splendor never gets old. I remember the first time I entered the building when I was a mere 19 years old and studying art in Italy for a summer with the University of Georgia. My jaw dropped and I was struck speechless, marvelling that something this huge and this beautiful could have been built nearly 2,000 years ago.

Almost two thousand years after it was built, the Pantheon’s dome is still the world’s largest unreinforced concrete dome. – Wikepdia

Until recently, almost all of my photos of the Pantheon have been taken looking towards the facade or inside the voluminous interior. On this chilly January day last year I was struck by the view looking out. I love the contrast of the stately columns against the always-hopping Piazza della Rotonda.

This photo reminds me to keep changing my perspective on the world and to always “play” and mix things up. It’s far too easy to get locked into a more standard view of the world, and go for the “expected” angle.

If you like this image, please be sure to check out my online photo gallery.

My Love Affair With Faces

Jed Smith, watercolor

The Blue Door – Private Collection

My favorite museum is the National Portrait Gallery in London. You see, for years I’ve had a love affair with faces. Take me to an exhibition full of portraits and you’ll have a hard time getting me to leave.

For me, the older the faces, the better. Smooth, youthful faces also have stories to tell, but my fascination and artistic focus remain with faces etched with lines that more readily communicate the subjects’ histories and personalities. And, on a personal note, I don’t want to march through my later years trying to ward off the evidence of the life I’ve lived.

I completed this watercolor in 1998, and I met its subject on the Island of Naxos in Greece. “She” reminds me to value the wisdom and journey of getting older. Here in Italy, I see a goldmine of fascinating, rich, older faces. I think I have enough material to last me multiple lifetimes of painting.

Maybe it’s a mistaken assumption, but in the Italian culture, the older generation seems to reside more closely alongside the younger generations – at least more than what I experienced in the U.S.  Older people are respected, and not hidden away, and finding four generations in one household isn’t an uncommon occurrence. Constantly I’m amazed at how many older people I see (well into their eighties and nineties) still out and about. It’s almost as though the daily stroll, and continuing to commune with friends, are non-negotiables.

When I paint faces, such as the one above, I feel as though I have a responsibility to capture and honor the essence of the individual. At times, it’s intimidating. I can only hope each person who sees my work also experiences some of what I have felt when I have met my subjects.

Ultimately, I believe my love affair with faces is a manifestation of my search for truth. Words can be so easily manipulated, but I believe faces never lie.

If you like this painting, be sure to check out my online gallery which features many other portraits.

 

A Wedding in Florence and a Day of Enchantment

Italian wedding, Italywise

Magic hour above Florence.

Recently, I had the distinct privilege to attend and photograph a wedding in Florence, Italy. As I attempt to find the right, overarching adjective to describe the event and the day, “enchanting” seems most appropriate. The word may sound trite, but this day certainly had some fairytale magic sprinkled over its entirety.

The bride and groom (a warm, radiant couple), traveled from the States, having planned this event, from afar, at the exquisite St. James’ Episcopal Church. The October weather leading up to the important day was mostly overcast and rainy, and the forecast wasn’t doing much to assure us that anything would change. Yet, the day arrived, and the clouds yielded, gifting the bride and groom with warm temps, brilliant skies, and luminous light.

Italian wedding, Italywise

The blessing.

St. James’ Episcopal Church is a venue well worth considering for a wedding in Florence. The staff is welcoming and they are pros at helping to set up a wedding, once they understand your needs and your vision. Book early, because this church is in high demand for weddings.

A carriage ride through “il centro” made this wedding in Florence unforgettable.

I won’t attempt a lengthy discourse on how special this day was. Instead, I invite you to tour the gallery on my page of Italian wedding photography. I must say, however, that the choice of the bride and groom to take a celebratory carriage ride through the center of Florence, was perfect. Italians are effusive in their congratulations and best wishes, and on this afternoon, they were in ample supply.

Italian wedding, Italywise

A carriage ride through Florence.

 

Living in the Present Tense.

Watercolor of Present Tense

Present Tense – Private Collection

I don’t often go through the archives of my past paintings, but recently I looked at this one, entitled Present Tense. I chose this title because, when I met this man, his direct gaze hit me as coming from someone who clearly resided in the present moment. I’m continually drawn to painting older faces. My intuition tells me this is because I am seeking out a wisdom that often comes with age – wisdom that has made peace with the past, and no longer fixates on a future idyllic state. I sold this painting very soon after completing it, and I miss having the real thing hanging on my wall to remind me to come back to the present moment, especially when I have strayed into realms of analyzing and wanting a “do-over” for the past, or obsessing about the future.

When I was jotting down a few notes before beginning this post, a powerful realization smacked me in the face. I often get lost in thought, or in “doing” to avoid the present moment. It is as though my chatty mind keeps proclaiming it is the real me and, therefore, is invested in keeping me lost in a world of thought. I confess, I am addicted to doing and achieving. Might many of our modern-day addictions, not just drugs and alcohol, but digital addictions, be manifestations of not being at peace with the present moment? Has Descartes’ famous pronouncement “I think, therefore I am” fueled a massive case of mis-identification – one that robs us of an ability to be present?

Read More
Living in Italy, Italywise

Finding Your Voice – Staying Open

Being and staying open to the full gamut of experience that life has to offer isn’t something that has come naturally to me. I still talk a good game, and tell myself I’ve evolved. Yet, at times, I feel a physical sensation in my solar plexus and in my chest that feels as though some kind of internal resistance or “brake” is saying “NO!” to experiences that don’t fit with my preconceived ideas of how things should be. Then, I sense my world becoming narrow and constricted. When this happens, I believe I have cut myself off from the wise, inner creative muse. My authentic voice temporarily becomes mute.

I’m learning to watch and allow even this rift in my psyche, when it happens, rather than trying to oust it. Attempting to strong-arm or wrestle it into submission only ensures resistance unpacks its bags and hangs around. Funny how steering into, rather than running from, the less desirable experiences in life can be the path to regaining one’s equilibrium.

So, in this fourth and last installment in my post series on finding your voice, I’d like to speak to something that has become a daily lesson for me – staying open. Staying open has meant not allowing myself to be trapped in my left brain, where I can’t readily access the rich resources in the expansive creative world of my right brain.

Read More

Finding Your Voice, and Your Unique Style

Starting a New Life, Italywise

I’ve always preferred Bernini’s style of David, to Michelangelo’s. Yet, there is no right and no wrong, when it comes to self expression.

Part of the journey to finding your voice, in art and in life, means finding your unique style. Much of our conditioning insists on sanctioned modes of expression, which can muddy the waters and stymie us from stepping into a style of being and expression that feels authentic.

My experience is that most people have to hack through life with a metaphorical machete to find what feels genuine for them. I believe a fundamental human dilemma is believing we all need to share the same reality or approach to life. Why else would our intellects have evolved, yet our attachment to war and conflict not abated?

One of my favorite singers, Vonda Shepard, speaks to the challenge of finding one’s authentic voice, in the midst of society’s conditioning, in her song Mischief and Control (from her album It’s Good Eve, available at Amazon.com), referring to the “painter” in all of us, as she seeks to express herself. For me “control” is a creativity-killer, and “mischief” speaks to the importance of play in finding your voice, while learning to ignore the chorus of other voices…

…But there’s an army of voices
She might have to get through… – Vonda Shepard

While my dear Momma Liz continues to coach me from the great beyond, I remember her always urging me to experiment and to try different approaches on my journey to finding my own style. She also reminded me that the world would be full of people telling me to follow their paths, and to not be discouraged.

Read More

Finding Your Voice, and Learning to Play

I believe the word “should” can be your greatest nemesis when it comes to learning to play and to “finding your voice”. As I wrote in the first installment of this series, to “color outside the lines” probably has been the most important advice left to me by my artist mother. The “shoulds” of our conditioning will keep you prisoner to preconceived concepts of how life is supposed to be, and they will leave you in narrow world that doesn’t reveal to you the magnificent possibilities of self-expression.

Easier said than done. Oh, how I wish I could toss all my “shoulds” to the side of the road, and proceed happily on my journey. But, I’ve found it’s like pulling weeds. The first step is being aware of them and seeing their roots, which go way back to childhood when potent influences, like society, the church and the school system began training our brains and behaviors into becoming well-behaved and perfect little beings.

At the beach and ready for mischief.

At the beach and ready for mischief.

We do know how to play, but most of us have forgotten. Playing was like breathing as children, but as adults all too often we look at play simply as a diversion from the more difficult realities of life vs. being a rich source for unearthing the treasures that exist in every one of us.

While, like most people, I experienced many powerful “molding” influences to keep me in line as a young child, my mom’s approach to art was a good antidote. Liz was fearless in playing and experimenting in her studio, and in the classroom. She would think nothing of going outside our house and tearing off an interesting piece of bark from a tree, and taking it into her studio and glueing it to a canvas, and then building a painting around it. She did this with many found objects, and I loved her “collage” period. I liken it to her swimming around all the possibilities for creative expression to find what resonated with her. And, different themes and media resonated with her at different times. She exemplified the metaphor of letting the river (of creativity) take her on an undisclosed journey.

Read More

Finding your voice – in art, and in life.

Finding your voice sometimes can take a lifetime. We often have to dig our way out of a mountain of conditioning, and voices telling us how things are “supposed” to be and what is “acceptable”. Confusion ensues, and we can be afraid to color outside the lines. Because discovering one’s own voice is such a rich topic, and one central to the fabric of my being, this post will be the first of four installments.

I was blessed to be born to a mother full of life, and with a love of teaching. My mom, Liz Smith-Cox, was a highly influential art educator in the public school system. Her students remember the powerful impact she had on their lives, in the art classroom, and in life in general. I remember how she recognized my artistic abilities at the age of five when I crafted the “Happy Squirrel” out of terra-cotta clay. The little guy had movement, and personality. She kept putting clay, drawing paper, crayons and pencils in my hand, and encouraged me create or draw anything and everything that struck my fancy. No limits.

The woman who taught me to find my own artistic voice - my mom, Liz Smith-Cox.

The woman who taught me to find my own artistic voice – my mom, Liz Smith-Cox.

Then, I entered first grade, where I was under the tyrannical rule of a mean old lady, Mrs. Anderson. Someone had “taken the meat out of her sandwich” years before, and she was keen to rule with an iron fist, and a hard set of rules as to how things should be done. Why such an embittered soul was put in charge of joyous, and impressionable young children is beyond me. On my second report card, Mrs. Anderson gave me D in handwriting. My mother was dumbfounded, and when she met with the teacher to gain an understanding of why, Mrs. Anderson explained that handwriting included “coloring” and I was refusing to color within the lines of the drawings provided. It had nothing to do with my penmanship. My mom was furious. I think this is one of the first times I understood the force of my mom’s belief that creativity should be unfettered. I also remember how she stood up at a PTA meeting and gave a man a thorough dressing down for suggesting that all that was needed for art in the schools was some crayons and a coloring book. “Coloring outside the lines” became a recurring theme and mantra in her many years of teaching and workshops.

My Momma Liz was a tiger when it came to protecting and encouraging the individuality of the creative voice. I am incredibly blessed that she nurtured me along in this regard, as I believe such a foundation has helped me find my voice much more easily. This isn’t to say that I haven’t taken detours into what I believed was the accepted way to go, but something always has harkened me back to my own path.

Read More

No. 361 – New Painting by Jed

361

No. 361

I’m happy to present the latest painting in my series of watercolors depicting street life in Italy. I love the movements of everyday Italian life. This scene was inspired by a recent trip to the island of Burano, which is just a short vaporetto ride from the Fondamente Nuove stop in Venice. I love being on the island when the town is waking up and when you can see people emerging from their homes and going about their daily rituals. Almost every angle in this fishing village, rendered in a vast array of colors, presents an unassuming, yet compelling work of art.

See this and other paintings in my online gallery.

Alla Stazione – New Painting by Jed

Alla Stazione

Alla Stazione

I’ve just finished a small watercolor “study” of a perennial subject here in Italy – a group of the “old guys” hanging out and “chewing the fat” (a decidedly American expression – I’ll research it to see if there is an Italian equivalent of this expression). This scene was inspired by a local gathering outside our local train station.

I’m fascinated with the old boys’ club here in Italy. Just as you see groups of women congregating on park benches to talk about the latest and greatest news, the men, also, are constantly finding time and space to converse about current affairs and to editorialize about life ahead.

You might be tempted to describe such a scene as a group of bored old boys with nothing better to do. In Italy, conversing and being together in the moment, without a bunch of other noise, seems to be a well-developed art. I know that my American conditioning and upbringing often lead me to label such scenes as “unproductive”. What I’m learning, after so much time here, and after observing Italian life, is that people here seem to be adept at relating to and staying connected with one another.

For me, it is as though the question is being asked “Why the rush?” – followed by an admonition to “Be here now”.

I like that the Italians are helping me to look at life differently, and to step aside from a constant need to always be in “achievement” mode.

Page 4 of 7« First...23456...Last »