Took this photo in my city studio today.  It shows completed still life paintings waiting to be hung, and still life objects waiting to be placed in new paintings.  Having a record of this combination seemed important.  And I liked the photo as a photo.

As you can see, some of the objects have already appeared in more than one painting.  I find myself increasingly drawn to painting the same objects and object sets over and over again.   Maybe that repetition has to do with Morandi and how much I like his work.  Over the course of his long painting life, Morandi painted the same objects repeatedly. And he is not alone.  A recent article (January 5, 2016) in Hyperallergic, one of my favorite art websites,  describes the painting repetitions or multiples in the careers of artists as diverse in style as Clifford Still,  Rembrandt,  Robert Motherwell, and Willem de Koonig. 

For me, while I am painting objects, I connect closely with them and the human experiences that they come to represent (the object may start out as a vase but it soon becomes a home that houses people, or it begins as an egg but it becomes a person in search of a kindred soul).  After these beautiful objects have come to stand for so much, how can I  leave them and just move on to paint something else?  Also, when I go back to the same objects, I see more: I see things about the vase, the egg, the apple, the glass, etc., that I didn't see the first time around. I also see more about the relationships between objects and the collectives that they represent. Seeing more leads to deeper thinking and caring,  and to better painting.  It is a good thing to go back and do it again. 

Yes, these are ideas that stretch from inside to outside the studio, from painting to life.  In work, family, relationships, political commitments, cultural and educational pursuits, with friends, we probably don't get it all the first time around -- don't respond, don't contribute, don't receive as much as we might have. Why not try to go back and do it again.  This isn't about living in the past and getting caught up in regrets.  It's about looking for and creating second chances, seizing them, thinking and caring more deeply, and doing it better. 

Through February 7th of 2016, the Museum of Modern Art in New York (MOMA) presents a very special show of Picasso's sculptures.  The curators bring together a large collection of objects arranged chronologically across Picasso's long career.  It's a charming exhibition filled with large doses of creative energy, whimsy, deep appreciation of history, wit, and moments of simple elegance. 

I especially liked watching the work change over time.  How it changes depends on where -- in what space-- it was being done, what was happening in Picasso's painting at the time, who was in his life, and world events. 

Some examples:  When Picasso purchased a large property, he was able finally to build a big studio and create monumental pieces of sculpture.  When the Nazis occupied Paris and made artists' work in metal illegal, Picasso had to concentrate on making works in plaster.  He was able to sneak by the authorities only an occasional piece cast in bronze.    When Picasso found himself in the south of France among gifted ceramicists, he turned to making magic in a new medium.  

I also liked the links between Picasso's painting and his sculpture.  One trade was clearly helping another.  And then, the links with other artists .... If Picasso threw a sculpture party in that big chateau, you could imagine the guest list including names like Braque, Giacometti, Klee, Henry Moore, and many more sources and recipients of inspiration. 

I was so caught up looking at the work and walking around it in the grand spaces that MOMA provided, I forgot to gather images through the first half of the show.  Only in the later rooms, I decided it would be good to do some recording and photographing for sharing.  Here are shots of some of the pieces.  Be charmed.