When Paper Fights Back

What happens when your favourite paper refuses to cooperate, and that is exactly what you want

I've been on a hunt for a very specific type of paper. I bought a giant sheet of it once about 10 years ago and used it a small piece at a time, with it becoming more precious to me as it got smaller.

It's a heavy weight paper (300gsm for those that are technically minded) and it's made of calcium carbonate; which is stone, minerals.

And I love the way it takes paint... in that it doesn't take paint. It doesn't soak it up, it resists it, it almost seems to fight it. But in the end the paint wins, after an overly long drying time. And the results of that battle are some gorgeous swirls and smudges and warps. It fully has a mind of its own and is completely unpredictable. And I love that unpredictability. Especially when I'm working on really simple pieces, ones that are just blocks of solid colour. This paint and paper combo transform them into something that looks fluid and a little shimmery, almost like light through stained glass.

And because the paint I use is acrylic, it dries permanent, so you only get one shot at each brush stroke. And I find that there is something zen in that. Something that anchors me to the moment.

Now I haven't been able to find this paper since I started looking for it again a couple years ago. The only thing I was able to find was a tiny sketchpad. And this sketchpad isn't the same weight of paper, it's made of the same calcium carbonate, but it's a much thinner weight. Kind of like the difference between cardstock and tissue. But it still fights the paint. And while painting these images, I used the last three sheets of that. It felt a little like fate that I needed three sheet, and there were three sheets left.

I went into making these feeling a little snarky. Though I thought the mandalas I saw while doing research were beautiful, I didn't think they were very cool, modern, or edgy. But as I created them, I remembered why I love this type of paper. And I settled on doing more ink paintings because it's a medium I really enjoy.

So, I ended up combining my favourite medium, with a subject matter I'm unfamiliar with. Though obviously injecting some of my personality into it.

These paintings were a perfect vehicle to show off the loveliness of the paper. Its sage green mandalas, But instead of rendering the lines of the geometric pattern, I painted the background so that the lines come through in the pure white of the paper.

I got the idea for this while doing market research and was drawn to it for the same reason as I am to repeating patterns. I like that its math that I can see, and that my eye can dance across it without really landing anywhere. There is something soothing about visual repetition.

I plan on scanning this painting in the highest resolution I can and making it quite large. So that all those swirls and streaks are amplified. Then printing it on wood so that the wood comes through where the white is and adds even more texture to the simple shape.

This is probably a lot more technical info than you're interested in, but this is also the part of the whole making process that I love. All the little details of how one material interacts with another.

But what you want to know is why I'm painting sage green mandalas. Well, it's because of the market research I'm learning to do. This is apparently one of the things that people are looking for that doesn't have a huge amount of competition. And I think I kind of need to prove to myself that doing the research will actually have a real result. That people at the other end of the internet wormhole are indeed out there looking for sage green mandalas. But I will defend the subject choice and say I do like math-based art (or any science-based art really). And I love getting to paint anything with my favourite medium. And green is my favourite colour...

I think what I'm trying to say is that I worry you will think less of me as an artist because I am drawing something based on research rather than based on complete personal reasons. But I've been a commercial artist and designer for so long... I have a hard time not making things for other people. My personal art is usually weird and sometimes creepy and strange... And I can already imagine what you'll say, you'll say "but I like weird! I want to see the strange!" And maybe you're right... but it's also scary. Because it means I have to be vulnerable. So I guess I'm asking you to be patient with me as I figure my shit out. And maybe painting some mandalas will help with that.

Sometimes when I go into a project, I go into problem-solving work mode, and I don't really react personally to what I'm making, until it's completely done. I work to solve that particular problem only and make design choices that I think best fit the brief. And the self-imposed brief for this one was to create a sage green mandala, either a set or a long horizontal piece, that would look good in homes where the main colour is cream and beige.

I went into the project seeing it as a simple but still interesting design problem to solve. But I ended up really liking how these turned out. I really do love green and mathy art so that was a win, and they look so serene and natural, I really think they look good.

My inner rebel came out in making sure that one of the pieces was a Pentagram, and I'm glad it did. I think there is a fair population of pagans out there who don't necessarily want their space to be gothic and dark, but instead want a serene and warm environment. This is for them.