I.

I am interested in the intuitive mark as language: an alphabet of somatic expression. I am pulled toward the inherent fertility of the impulsive line as it breeds form from within. The work is instinctive, organic and playful. I follow the energy behind a stroke of the brush or pen—whether vigorous or methodical—to allow unexpected patterns, squiggles and shapes to emerge. I give permission to chaos. A dialogue takes shape between the body of the artist and the artwork, emerging from a visceral dialect of call and response. There is an intelligence here that can only be accessed by physical movement stripped of plan. The deeper the surrender of outcome, the more vital the conversation.

II.

What happens in the moist dark folds of muscle and flesh is a mystery. Parts of things die and scatter. Stones tumble in winding rivers of tangled lines. Dark black shapes emerge. Every day I put something in my hand and poke the ruins for the stories hidden in this landscape. With pen and paint, I play with a language both foreign and familiar, feeling truth by a hitch in my bones, an inner tug, a surprising wash of comfort. I make art for that harbor: the solace of knowing, and for that next delicious revelation in the stones.

III.

Art is the most honest form of language. It is the way I greet the world authentically--out of uniform--with a simple gesture released from the belly: an intuitive non-thought beyond assumptions of self. Each time I face the blank canvas, I begin with the question, who am I? The answer comes when I trust my work to a deeper way of knowing.

I believe that creative ideas are not about thinking things up or getting it right. It's something I release from an endless supply of images waiting inside me. Every honest mark made without judgement or fear is a revelation. This is what I need to do in this moment. I am drawing from new territory, astonished. It is strange, unfamiliar, raw. “Our life, says Annie Dillard, "is a faint tracing on the surface of mystery."  An endless sea of inspiration.

Connie Cantor

Connie Cantor