OFFICIAL SITE

It’s official! Please redirect yourself to :

www.shawnacross.com

Thanks so much! I hope you enjoy the new site, and feel free to leave any comments or questions (which you can do right   H E R E ).

All upcoming events, news and information about new paintings will be posted in the news/blog section. As I mentioned before, there has been a lot going on lately, so the news/blog section is already full of good stuff!

Enjoy! Thanks for stopping by.

NEW SITE!!!!!

FIIIIIIIIIIIINALLY!!!! The day has come when I have a real site,  check it out!!!! I’ve literally been up all night finishing it; my fingers feel like they’re about to fall off and I’m way more than ready to close the computer and GO OUTSIDE.  It will be shawnacross.com once I figure out why the weebly hasn’t fallen off yet, but for now it’s www.shawnacross.weebly.com

Personally, I think it looks great, but I’d love to know what you think, too (actually, if you send me a little email from the “contact” section of the site you get a nice, sweet little “gift”).

This site will continue to stay up online, but I won’t be updating it anymore, everything will be going through the new site, including all the news! There’s already a bunch of new stuff on there (new shows, new endeavors, a collaboration and a great big move). Sooooo, go check it out!!!

Thanks so much for supporting me through this blog, and I hope I see you over at the new pages!

xoxoxo

Shawna

News Coming Soon…

Thinking about home, thinking about life’s landscape, thinking about the shadows and lights cast when the sun rises over foggy horizons. Thinking about how it feels to ride the wave instead of drive the car; thinking about looking out the side window instead of focusing intently on the views ahead.

I get it. We all have dreams. We all have visions of what we want our lives to be, visions of who we want to be. Some of us believe in our dreams to the extent that they become living, breathing entities that need space and nourishment, comfort and discipline, and even room for wild mood swings-just like real living, breathing people. Sometimes, though, I think that the best way to get in touch with our dreams is to just let ourselves be. When we’re not pushing and driving ourselves towards one big goal all the time we, instead, allow ourselves to grow into our current moments, rise to the occasion, reveal to ourselves aspects of our character-or maybe even our true wants and needs-that we miss in the chaos.

Welcome to my current mind tangles, circa August 11th, 11:40pm. It seems backwards to be able to find any reflection during such a chaotic point in my life.

I have lots of news, and many new shows that are either up or will be going up between this weekend and the beginning of September. But, along with having so much news comes having no time to spread the word. Links and info will be posted within the next few days, and the ever elusive shawnacross.com will finally be revealed.

Painting in warm, warm, warm tones with strikes of bold contrasts that jut out against the haze. Floods of growth, splashed up on the canvas.

Bringing Ghosts to Life

I know it’s been a little quiet over here on the ol’ S. Cross Art front (I can hear those crickets, too…), but silence is a result of the process of transition I’ve been going through, and I’m excited to share the creative gems  coming from this process…soon. A couple of months ago I (finally!) decided that I’ll catch up with NYC at another time, and that my heart is pretty set on expanding my roots further here in Vermont. I can’t walk away from our South End yet, and most importantly, I really can’t walk away from Borough now. So, here I am! Even though I’ve been here for nearly 3 years, it’s still been a HUGE process to “make it work” for me, and adjustments have had to be considered.

So, back to the art! The cricket noise you’ve been hearing over here is actually going to continue for a bit. As you may or may not know, although my studio/gallery is located in Burlington’s thriving art district, I live 45 minutes outside of that, nestled out in the countryside amongst the cornfields, regular fields, pastures, and alongside the lake (Crickets galore. At night it’s sometimes necessary to yell to hold a conversation that can be heard over them). It’s been so beautiful out here lately, so I’ve set up a temporary studio where I can continue to work amongst this ethereal atmosphere and incorporate it into my new paintings. It’s creating a nice juxtaposition with the incredible noise I have hammering in my head, and the results are sublime.

view of one of the fields I've been painting in

Oh so quiet

As I’ve mentioned before (and is apparent when viewing photo details on the “paintings” page), writing plays a large part in the creation of my paintings. Usually my writing weaves in and out of the painting process; shaping up forms, bringing colors to life and setting a backdrop. Now, however, writing is playing a larger role in all of my work as I draft entire stories (as opposed to prose) and fill notebook after notebook before any painting takes shape. This has allowed my imagination to soar and confirm my own voice, setting the scene for a new series which is underway now. As I paint I punctuate these stories with brief, illuminating, lines, which casts light within the dark shapes on my canvas. It’s an interesting process, and I find myself playing the role of storyteller more and more as the narrative of the paintings becomes more defined. This new direction is dark, I must warn you, as I seem to go about purging my dusty inner corners and skim the top off shiny ideas to get to the bottom of fears, doubts, guilt, ghosts that haunt my dreams, projected futures and romantic notions. By nature my personality is not dark, so I’m relishing rummaging through my darker imaginings and letting them breathe a life of their own. I’m excited to share some of these new stories (including attempts to drown out the noise in my head (which only resulted in drowning my cell phone), tales of the murder and resurrection of love, wild animal bouts, stars serving as saviors, ghosts inhabiting bodies in the form of sleepwalking), but I won’t do that until I can post the finished paintings with them.

For now, I’ll leave you with a glimpse of one of these new paintings, which is actually a painting I’ve been working on since last fall. Completion feels so good, ahhhh. It’s currently featured at S.P.A.C.E. Gallery on Pine Street in Burlington as part of the show, “The Art of Networking”, which I’ll write about later tonight. I’ll also leave you with a photo of the place where some of my best writing comes about…halfway between dreams and grogginess, listening to the sounds of coyotes, crickets, train whistles, and every now and then the call of a distant owl or moose. More soon, I promise.

"Anything That Would Scream (as I live and die)" Oil on canvas, 52" x 30"

Interested In Sitting For A Portrait?

"Johnny B" charcoal and conte

I’m revisiting portraiture after having put it on hold for the past 3 years. Needless to say I’m really excited about it, but this also means I need people who want to stop by and sit for a while. Interested? Hmmm??

"Phil" charcoal and conte

No one can deny that we, as humans, are eternally interested in how others view us; it’s a fascinating concept. Everyone sees their surroundings differently, and this doesn’t exclude the physical  presence of those around us. The energy that people exude, which we all pick up on differently, is really interesting to capture on paper.

"Stan" charcoal and conte

The portraits are done pretty quickly, they takes anywhere from 30 minutes to an hour and a half to complete, and while it would be great to do them here at the studio, I wouldn’t be opposed to coming to you if that makes you happier. I just need your face! Don’t be shy! Become a piece of art! The process is fun, it isn’t stuffy and I swear it won’t hurt. Sometimes portraits are even turned into paintings, like the one below:

"Rachel" charcoal

"The Child" 48"x30" Oil and charcoal on canvas. Private Collection

If you’re interested in sitting for a portrait please get in touch and let me know, I’ll be starting this series next week. If you’re kind of interested and could possibly be persuaded then I still urge you to get in touch. Thanks!

"Mike" charcoal and conte

“what’s going on this weekend”, you ask?

It’s May, and Burlington is officially blooming, both environmentally and socially. Finally I am able to rip my eyes away from nyc papers and magazines and happily focus on what’s going on locally. To get super-super local, Borough is hosting a closing weekend to celebrate the finale of our current exhibit Entropic Restructed. Haven’t stopped by yet to see this gorgeous show? Don’t sweat it! We’ll be open all weekend. Here, in short format, is a little view of what’s going on in Burlington’s art scene this weekend:

Friday, May 7th:

First Friday Art Walk! Events in our South End include:

Closing of Entropic Restructed, Borough Gallery, 5-8*

“Ka-Blam”, Green Door Studio, 5-8

“Profile New York: Art as Aesthetic Experience” S.P.A.C.E. Gallery, 5-9

Sean Metcalf and Greg Mamczac at Speaking Volumes, 5-8

Closing reception for “Psychometry” at Pine Street Art Works, 5-8

for more info on what’s going on in the South End click HERE

Elsewhere around town:

Mia Feuer opens at BCA’s Firehouse Gallery from 5:30-8

The Blow (!!!!) is coming to the Monkey House with La Strada, 9pm

Saturday May 8th:

Closing of Entropic Restructed, Borough Gallery 10am-7pm

Queen City Craft Bazaar, Union Station, 10am-5pm

Opening weekend of Burlington’s Farmers’ Market, 8:30am-2pm

Sunday May 9th:

Final day to catch the closing of Entropic Restructed, Borough Gallery 10am-3pm

Flynn Avenue Sunday Market, 10am-3pm. The Sunday Market is a big mash up of artist market, farmers’ market and flea market, all taking place in the parking lot of our 180 Flynn Avenue building. Hosted by Mary at Vintage Inspired, this Sunday is the launch of what will be a summer long event. Definitely check it out, definitely get in touch with Mary if you want to be a part of it!

So come out this weekend and catch some art, peruse some markets, go to a few shows…and don’t forget to buy your tickets for the Spielpalast Cabaret, it opens next weekend!

ps-

On Monday, May 10th, there will be a City Hall meeting to discuss formally establishing the Pine Street Corridor as “Burlington’s South End Arts District”. This meeting, put forward by City Councilor Joan Shannon, could result in the installations of signs directing residents and tourists to South End artist studios and businesses. That, of course, would be awesome, so I fully encourage you to attend!

* Just a note: Borough is not affiliated with Art Map Burlington, but will be open during their First Friday events.

Come check out what Burlington has in store

thumbs up

Also, I forgot to mention the other week that our show was featured in  Seven Days with a full page review!

“Cross varies her paint handling like a pianist varies dynamics. As a classical musician might move from forte to pianissimo and back, Cross employed impasto paint in the upper reaches of the canvas and thin paint, like stain painting, in the lower left. Dark values punctuate light areas, while light values likewise break through darker patches of paint.” -Marc Awodey

Yeah, I’ll take that. Just a note, however: I don’t use impasto, my paintings are 100% oil and pure patience. Click on Raychel’s photo below to read the full review

Raychel Severance, "No Screaming". Click to read the full review of Entropic Restructed

Don’t forget…

It’s a bummer if you missed our (Borough Gallery) opening on the 27th, but there are still a few more weeks left to check out “Entropic Restructed“! We’re open by appointment, so get in touch (boroughgallery@gmail.com) and stop by. Here are some pics from our opening:

shattered direction (illimitation)

Without being fully aware of the fact, from the time I moved to Vermont until somewhat recently I had been heavily focused on end results. “I want to make this happen; how do I start and when will it take form?”, “I want to create a painting that encompasses this emotion and makes this noise; when will it satisfy those desires?”, “I must create this color I’m seeing; how many colors samples will I create until it’s real?”. The process of getting to where I wanted was something I paid little attention to, and my overwhelming question of, “when am I truly going to feel like an artist?” was going unanswered…it bothered me; it would keep me up at night, it made me feel shy when introducing my work, it made me feel false upon introducing myself.

Slowly, during a painfully confusing and congested winter-a time when no painting was working, no writing found rhythm, no color or shape found reason-a new awareness was setting in. While I was feeling despondent and humoring the idea of collecting rocks for my pockets if the pieces didn’t fall together by spring (An artist who can’t create? It feels shameful) my awareness of physical surroundings, interactions, energy exuded and stream of consciousness began to come into focus. Combining my internal state of being with a fiery desire to feel something as yet unknown, I pushed myself to take risks to their limit, abandon fear, find the root of my thoughts both rational and irrational.

It wasn’t until the beginning of March that any of these scattered ideas, activities and emotions found their home on canvas. While standing in front of 3 paintings, mentally running back and forth between where they were and where I wanted them to be, the force of the physical process completely overtook me. Is the act of creating not art itself? Is the process that leads to an idea, the travels and stories that each stroke of a palette knife relays, not just as beautiful as the whole? Are we not artists because we do create, rather than being artists because we have something tangible to show for it? Somehow, as the sun began to simmer and set, take leave and then rise again, locked up in the walls of my studio with the same song on repeat to lose awareness of the passing of time, the energy of the act of painting itself seemed far more powerful than anything any of my paintings would ever say. There is something to be said for having the presence of mind to fully relish the act of a mystery revealing itself, allowing each moment to be exactly what it is, enjoying the fact that there is more to come but you must wait, because first you must experience what is. It’s so powerful to be able to say “this makes me feel this“, and experience each emotion. As I lay in each color of my paintings, layer glaze over glaze and scrape wildly into built up areas on the canvas to re-create new patches of attention, I can hear the coyotes and distant train whistles that lull me to sleep, feel the energy that inspired each color, remember to the point of virtual time travel each word or thought that laid its mark on subconscious. All of this transforms into a newly found rhythm as current time and surroundings make their mark on creativity, eventually birthing a tangible piece of art that reflects what is only palpable to me as an individual.

dawn breaks

There have been two great quotes I’ve been carrying around in my pocket this past month. One is from a “farewell letter” of sorts, written about the devastating loss of Alexander McQueen:

McQueen was also self-destructive (like so many creative types who give themselves over completely to what they love).

Is this true? Is that what this process is about? The art of merging the lines between your physical and creative lives? Is it a process of finally giving in, no longer refraining from allowing yourself to fully exude and inhale the things you save for your “creative moments”, so that every moment is, in fact, a moment of living art? And, is this really destructive? Or could it in fact be liberating? The other quote is from an interview with Marina Abramovic:

…just being present as an artist in a space, with full consciousness and your attitude with your body (…) the meaning of the meaning, that is the most difficult

Sometimes it’s hard for me to believe what has slipped past me while I’ve been so focused on trying to find it, but the sensation that comes with realization is so incredibly satisfying. I don’t deny that the process of re-discovering the process was excruciating, but I believe I once read that, “every artist must die at least 5 times in their lifetime; preferably bloody, painful deaths”. It feels beautiful to re-emerge.

"Shattered Direction (illimitation)", somewhere near finished

An Interview with Borough Gallery & Studio

"Meter Maid (bending windows)" Oil on canvas, 54" x 44" (private collection)

Borough Gallery & Studio: You use writing to kind of tap your memory, so are your paintings representative of your memory, or of the writing you do?  That is to say, do the images bubble up while you write, or does the process come in stages?

Shawna Cross: My writing and my paintings are one in the same. Neither is complete without the other, but I wouldn’t say that one is a more dominant reflection than other, in the same way that I wouldn’t say lyrics in a song simply represent their accompanying melody; they’re coming from the same emotion and string of thought. My mind tends to move quickly, wander far, and become cluttered with the relationships between a variety of differing ideas. When it comes to expression it can be disastrous to get a clear idea out since its roots are under so many layers of ideas that came so quickly afterwords, and since my emotions change so quickly. When it comes to painting the process usually starts with me listening to the same song on repeat to stay focused, scribbling furiously within a notebook to channel the core of what I’m trying to express. The images are already in my mind, but writing taps further into my passion, shaping up the colors and forms I already envision, webbing a structured relationship between them. The colors become richer as I understand where they’re coming from, the movement becomes clear as I understand why I was initially led to feel the way I do. Rhythm is really important to me, and without writing-purging and exploring these pent up ideas that come out only in abstracted phrases which hold no place in common conversation-my paintings have none, they look as chaotic as my palette and no solution is ever found.

BGS: Sounds like painting is a fraught journey through yourself.  How do
you know and how does it feel when you’ve arrived at a finished work?

SC: Knowing when a painting is done is always complicated. The very last portion of the process always comes down to pure aesthetics, stepping back and stepping away for a few days to see if, visually, anything can be improved, or if the painting has successfully captured the moment I was trying to create and will evoke emotions from the viewer. But sometimes that point comes before I’ve fully resolved what I’m personally expressing, which is when a series is born and multiple paintings wander through the same theme. When a series is finished it feels huge…like gaining closure on a period of time and closing a chapter. Sometimes it feels invigorating, and sometimes it feels unsettling, it depends on the subject matter. It’s just like life; often you feel like there is more to be said or done within a situation or within a relationship, but you know within yourself that it’s time to walk away because nothing more can come from it and it’s time to open your eyes to something new. Finishing a painting or a series is one of those moments that’s hard to define, it’s a complete combination of mental, physical and emotional satisfaction. How do you know when you’re done with a certain location and are ready to move, or when you’re ready for bed, you’re full, you’re done having sex, or you’re finished with a relationship? You’re either satisfied, exhausted, or your mind starts to wander elsewhere-but either way, you know you’re done.

"Mute to Our Own Desires (hushed stories and sincere promises" Oil on canvas, 33" x 30"

BGS: Is there a period of release after you’ve finished a painting, or an

intense series, where the next work has yet to form?  What do you do when creative energy is at a shallow point?

SC: Yes, definitely. After I’ve finished a series of paintings it takes some time to move towards the next one. Sometimes it takes a few weeks, but there have been times where it’s taken months. Those periods of time are so intense for me. At first I feel kind of beat and I’m happy to take a break, but then I get so restless. I find myself traveling and exploring the most during those times, staying really busy and fully engaging myself in foreign and familiar surroundings, activities and people. You have to live and experiment in order to grow and have anything to say that’s worth mentioning. The paintings I do in the in between moments seem lifeless to me. I end up taking a little hiatus until my inspiration is at its peak and then I paint with a fury. I also have a lot of half started projects that come about while I’m not painting…that’s when I decide I’m going to learn to cook, or re-paint my room, or teach workshops; anything to maintain a creative outlet.

BGS: Is there a time of day or place when the muse is particularly close?
Do you find sunrise, or midnight, home or a hilltop that has an energy
that jives with your brain?

SC: Yeah, painting during the day is a total wash for me, it’s really rare that you’ll see me working in the studio when the sun is out, unless it has just come up. I don’t know if it’s just a lingering response to having been a student for so many years, when the beginning portion of the day is spent absorbing and collecting and the evening was my time to reflect and set loose energy in my own way or what, but when the sky starts to turn, usually between the hours of 7pm and 7am, that’s when my creativity lunges forward. There’s something about the serene quietness of nighttime and the unique energy of nightlife that I find particularly inspiring…the unique quality of chaos and urgency in getting the most out of the remainder of your day, simultaneously mixed with relaxation and reflection is something that I really respond to. I wouldn’t say there is a particular place that inspires me as much as movement and energy do. I’ll often leave parties or concerts and head straight to the studio and work for the rest of the night, or sometimes get out of bed at 2am and head in. The blanket of night makes everything seem secretive, like all actions and words are a shared whisper between me, my canvas, and a few very select ears, and I really dig that. Daytime just seems too loud, I don’t feel as free.

"Steps in Patches (more wine)" Oil on canvas, 28" x 22" (private collection)

BGS: Shawna, as your gallery-mate, when the hell do you sleep?

SC: I don’t. I’m super woman you see, and earl gray is my defense against the sandman. I’ve just forgotten to mention it to you throughout the year. You should see the goggles I have, they’re so sweet, they accent my painting apron perfectly. And this is why I’m so spacey. Actually, if you ever came into the studio really early in the morning, between 4 and 5 maybe, it’s possible that you’d see me crashed out somewhere…somewhere where I can “just take a little break and get back to it”, like sitting upright in the chair by my painting space with my palette knives in hand. I’m actually really glad we have the futon upstairs now because let me tell you, no matter how many coats you shove under your head, that floor is not comfortable. Honestly, I usually have really bad nightmares most nights, so sleep isn’t really a priority for me, being awake is way more fun. Instead I space out during really inappropriate times, usually when someone is giving me directions.

Cross's studio space in Borough Gallery & Studio, Burlington VT

For more information on Shawna go here. See her work in person at Borough Gallery