Writing Screenplays and Painting Pictures: Two Sides of the Same Coin

The more I write screenplays, the more I see similarities to painting pictures. For me, the creative coin has two sides: I love writing stories and I love painting pictures.  It is all about creating something from nothing. Writers begin with a blank page. For painters, there is always the blank canvas staring you down.

In a recent interview with the director Daniel Stamm (visit AikenWriter.com for my notes), I took notes about the creative process in making films. I quickly realized that making films and writing screenplays are similar to painting. It all boils down to the creative process.

Here are some examples.

1.  Engage the audience in a story that is unfamiliar. Stamm is looking for scripts that deal with unfamiliar territory. Painters are looking for the same thing. Screenplays are paintings. The writer uses words instead of oils. A screenplay should paint a story in words. Both writers and painters want to engage the viewer, and hopefully show them something they have never seen. 


2.  If you can’t deal with failure you won’t have a career. This is true for anyone in the arts. Failure is the norm. Failure is the air we breathe. Rejection is our biggest fan. Failure is inherent in the creative process. Only God creates perfection out of chaos. For us mortals, it's a lot harder. Success is in the doing, the process, the work. 

3.  A lack of confidence in what you are doing is inherent in the creative process.  Stamm talks about meeting with producers, the money people, trying to convince them he has the confidence to make a certain film. It is con game. In reality he has no clue. To get the money, you have to sell people on your clear vision and have confidence in your talent. Painters are no different. 

When I begin a new painting, I don't have a clue how it is going to turn out. Will it be a total failure? Maybe. Probably. Most likely my painting won't be a masterpiece. However,  I must show confidence in my ability or no one will give a damn. If I think I'm a lousy artist, and say that to a potential patron, then you can see the problem. If I don't believe in myself, then who will? It is okay to lack confidence in your work. 'Not-knowing" is inherent in the creative process. We learn by doing, through trial and error. Just don't let those with the money see you sweat. 

4. You Can't Make Everyone Happy.  Stamm talks about negative comments about his films being a good thing, just as long as they are widespread, covering a variety of issues. The problem comes when all the negativity is about the same issue. My paintings will always suck, to someone. That is the reality. If I could arrange for ten art critics to look at my work, I would make a list of their comments. Are they all about the same issue? ("God, that composition really sucks") Or do their negative comments vary from one issue to another. Perhaps one critic hates the composition, one hates the color, one hates the subject matter, and one just hates the whole thing. It is a good sign if ten critics hate ten different things about my work. On the other hand, if eight of the ten really hate my brushwork, then I might have a problem. 

The eleven paintings for my Final Thesis Review.

In a couple of weeks, I'll have my chance with a room full of critics: three instructors will be attending my Final Thesis review for a critique. I will show them eleven paintings. I will take notes of their negative and positive comments. How much will they agree on certain issues? The best case scenario for me: they won't agree on anything. 

5. Being alone with your inner critic can suffocate creativity.  Like writing, painting is lonely work. We work by ourselves, isolated from the world in our studios like monks. I'm referring to an honest-to-God-artist, not those scam artists like Jeff Coons, Damien Hirst or Maurizio Cattelan. The voice we often hear comes from the inner critic telling us we suck. Somehow we need to silence the inner critic and just keep working. 

Holy Cow It's Hot

After months of rain and freezing weather, my feet are finally thawing out. I guess Spring has arrived in San Francisco, just in time. Events to attend, a bike to ride, a bus to wait on...all are a part of living in the Bay. When the weather sucks, life here tends to suck, too.

Events to attend. I'm looking at my calendar and it appears like it's going to be a busy month. My friends Usha Shukla (Usha Art on Facebook) and Colleen Gianatiempo (Colleen on Facebook) are having their solo shows at the Cannery studios this Friday, May 5. They are graduating, along with me, this month with Master of Fine Art degrees from AAU.

The John Pence gallery (JohnPence.com) is closing at the end of June. I need to pay a visit since it's been a while. The gallery has been in San Francisco 44 years. I know many of the artists they have supported over the years. John is responsible for starting the careers of many artists, especially from AAU. I want to make one more visit before the doors close.

A current exhibition at the Legion of Honor I must see is "Monet: the Early Years." (http://legionofhonor.famsf.org) The exhibition closes May 29, so I need to hurry. Approximately 60 paintings reveal the young artist and his search for a visual language he could make his own. We sometimes forget these great master painters were once struggling kids trying to discover their voice.

"Cityscape I", Richard Diebenkorn, 1963

The Matisse/Diebenkorn show at SFMOMA (SFMOMA.org) also closes May 29.  The exhibition brings together 100 extraordinary paintings and drawings—40 by Matisse and 60 by Diebenkorn—that reveal the connections between the two artists in subject, style, color, and technique. I first grew to appreciate Diebenkorn after reading a biography of David Park and the Bay Area Figurative painters. I have a book of Richard Diebenkorn paintings in my studio to remind me of how great these painters were back in the 1950s and early 1960s. 

Since the weather in San Francisco has finally turned nice, it is time I make these events. Naturally, the ocean, beach, mountains, and scenic areas of the Bay also need a visit. I have a lot to do. 

No Power in Downtown San Francisco

It is hard enough to navigate downtown San Francisco, but add the loss of electrical power and it becomes like walking through a third-world country. I was painting in my studio on Chestnut Ave. when mid-brush-stroke the lights went out.

It happens often I'm told. Maybe not often, but no one was surprised but me. I grabbed my flashlight and stumbled to the front glass doors. I noticed the traffic lights were out.  Obviously it was a wide spread problem. Muni buses were running the lights, or the lack of lights, and cars were darting in and out of the intersections as if they had been transported to Mexico City. Scary stuff.

I made it across town to my Friday class located near Chinatown. No power there, either. What the hell is going on? A terrorist attack? One way to bring a city to her knees is knock out the power grid.

Many of the local retails stores placed "Closed Due to Power Failure" signs on their doors. The Starbucks at the corner of Bush and Grant stayed open but couldn't serve anyone. People were hanging outside the entrance and sitting on the sidewalk waiting for something to happen. Starbucks employees began passing out free iced coffee and taking pictures for their Instagram page. I guess they have been trained for such occasions, "Okay, if we ever lose our electricity, make friends and pass out free coffee."

So Here Was This Creature Standing In Line

I lost a good friend in Gloria Himes a few weeks ago.  We were pen pals...modern day pen pals using Facebook Messenger to visit each day. She was a sounding board for me, someone I could write to about my day.

I wrote to her about a homeless woman at Starbucks. Here is the message I sent her.
_______________

Feb. 23,  9:23 am

Greetings from Pad 39A on a Thursday morning. I'm all set up for a full day of work in the studio. I came by bus, the best way to travel when the weather is nice. I walked a couple of blocks south to the Starbuck's to get my coffee before walking on further south a couple of blocks to Pad 39A. I need my coffee!

The homeless people in San Francisco are everywhere. They are so prevalent in some areas you hardly see them, they fade into the background like part of the fabric of the inner city. Mostly they stick to themselves and don't beg, so it's easy to just pass them by without notice. This morning, however, I saw a person who just broke my heart.

She was probably five feet tall and slumped over a bit. She was standing in line at Starbuck's with an empty plastic cup and I could tell she was just going to ask for some water. It was impossible for her to have any money.  She was wearing the strangest clothes. I first noticed her shoes did not match. On one foot she wore a yellow battered Crock sandal.  Her bare heel was exposed out the back and it was black as tar. On the other foot she wore a black tennis shoe that was two  sizes too big, and it was laced tight. Her pants were a cruddy, soiled, striped black and white pajama bottom. The material was not very heavy. She had a muddy green windbreaker wrapped tightly enough around her. She was obviously cold. On her hands she wore plastic surgical gloves, like the ones I use to paint with in my studio. Hers were dirty brown from use and I'm sure she was trying to keep her hands warm. Her hair was filthy, cluttered with various kinds of debris as if she had been sleeping in a pile of leaves. A thin scarf was just barely hanging on around the back of her head. She would tug st the scarf to hide her hair, and she would sheepishly bow her head as if to hide herself from those in line around her.

I looked at her face. It was filthy. She had three pieces of tape or worn out band aids covering portions of her features. She had one piece of tape on her nose, a small corner was hanging down and looked as if it might come off at any time. She apparently had some sores or perhaps skin cancers she had covered with whatever she could find to stick to her skin.

So here was this creature standing in line at Starbuck's. I was watching her intently and was thinking all kinds of things. She wasn't that old, and thought "how does a young woman find herself in this situation?" I was also thanking about how lucky I have been in my life to have escaped such a state. I've been poor and in need, but never near the shape this young woman was in. I was thanking how blessed I was to have a place to sleep, and a studio full of paintings, and food, and money to buy a cup of coffee.

When she approached the counter she asked the girl at the cash register for some water. An Asian man was paying for his coffee and had his wallet out. She looked at him and he immediately handed her a dollar. I reached into my pocket and moved past the man in front of me and shoved a $5 bill in her hand. She looked up at me, smiled, grabbed her cup of water and moved on.

Every once in a long while I'll run into someone like this who touches me, for whatever reason. Sometimes it's the blessings in my life that serve to highlight a person like this who is so broken and helpless. The homeless and helpless are everywhere, and for the most part I leave them alone. But now and then I see someone who grabs my attention and I just can't turn away. She did more for me this morning than I will ever be able to do for her. She reminded me how lucky I am.

Updating Blogs Can Be a Major Hassle

I have myself to blame. Trying to provide content on my web sites is a hassle and I should know better. I spent an hour this morning updating AikenWriter.com, my website hosted by WordPress. Writing the content is easy enough, and adding images works fine. But making sure the page loads properly on Facebook turned into a nightmare.  Having various web sites appear correctly on social media is a major hassle.

I have one WordPress blog site, AikenWriter.com. That is it. My other blog site, Aiken1.com, is hosted by Blogger, which is owned by Google. So, when I want to update and add content to Aiken1.com I must first make sure I'm logged in under the correct user account at Google. At WordPress, they don't care about Google. At Wix.com, my other websites are up and running at last. However, making all of these various sites work together and post correctly on social media calls for a lot of patience.

I know what you are thinking, "why all these sites?" I wish I knew. I guess the main reason is: I have a lot of various interests and its too confusing to place on just one site.  It becomes easier to steer people directly to what they are interested in, without having then wade through a sea of other content they care nothing about.

Adding to the confusion are the various accounts I have at Google. As of today I have eight Google accounts. They have a limit, which I have not reached yet. Why so many Google accounts? Free storage. A Google account comes with up to 15 Gigs free storage space. Do the math. I have at least 120 Gigs of free storage space at Google alone, not to mention my Cloud account and Dropbox.

Its all very confusing and makes it a hassle at times to get all the various parts to behave, like corralling unruly children in the backyard.  No one said this was going to be easy.

Final Project Critique Scheduled

It has been long road to get to this point. Finally, my final project critique has been scheduled for May 16, 11 a.m. Assuming I pass, then I'll graduate two weeks later with a Master of Fine Arts degree in Painting.  My final critique will consists of eleven paintings with the series title "Purgatory: The Chair." Here are a couple of paintings from the series.

"Lady with Floral Hat" 24x30, charcoal, shellac, oil, on canvas

"Child Playing Games" 24x30, charcoal, shellac, oil, on canvas

Last Days at Pad 39A

Pad 39A is the name of  my studio space located near Fisherman's Wharf, San Francisco. It's been my home the last year as I work toward my Final Thesis. Why "Pad 39A"? Pad 39A was the launch pad used by NASA astronauts for the first moon landing, which took off on July 16, 1969.  Apollo 11 safely landed on the moon on July 20. I thought it would be an appropriate name for this studio. I am launching my own mission: twelve paintings for my Final Thesis Project.

Pad 39A, Chestnut Street, San Francisco 

My time is coming to an end at Pad 39A. I'll be moving to  Laguna College of Art & Design after graduation, assuming I pass the Final Project. I remember the empty wall space the first day I moved in.  My paintings began to inhabit the space after a few weeks,  amid the chaos of supplies I was collecting: art books, tubes of paint, old shirts, cardboard boxes, bubble wrap, a space heater.

The studio of an artist becomes a piece of art. I love looking at the studios of other artists for this reason. It reveals a lot about the character and work habits of the person working in the space. Are they sloppy or clean? Do they have supplies piled up like junk, or is everything systematically placed on shelves, in drawers? The studio of Francis Bacon, for example, looked like a garbage bin. It reflected his maniacal personality. I think I am somewhere in the middle...organized, but messy. Anyway, Pad 39A has been a great place to work. One small step for an artist, one giant leap for my career.