Musings

 

ART AND YOUR BRAIN

Painting with encaustic-a medium that fuses pigmented wax with flame is more than a creative act. It is a process of uniting individual brushstrokes into a cohesive whole, much like how our thoughts and experiences form the brushstrokes of our mind. In neuroscience, there is a phrase: "neurons that fire together, wire together." Every experience we have, every thought we think, creates patterns in the brain that shape how we feel, respond and perceive the world.

Art has a powerful influence on these patterns. Studies show that engaging with art, whether through creating or viewing can enhance brain function by increasing dopamine and serotonin, the very chemicals that help regulate the mood, reduce stress, and support emotional resilience.

For me, marrying music and painting is deeply therapeutic. It's a form of a visual journaling, an emotional release and a way to process what weighs heavy on my heart. Much like a jazz musician improvises to express what words cannot, I use the rhythm of colour, texture, form and flame to speak from the subconscious.

But this isn't just about the artist. As a viewer, admirer, or collector of art, your brain responds too. When you connect with a piece-when something in it moves you-blood flow to your brain increases in areas associated with pleasure and emotion. It's the same neural activity triggered when gazing at a loved one.

So the next time you look at a painting you love, remember: you are not just enjoying a beautiful moment. Your whole body, mind, heart and nervous system is reaping the benefits of that experience.


 

 I am working on a painting in my studio

 

THE MAGICAL MEDIUM

No I am not talking about someone clairvoyant, I am talking about encaustic, an ancient and almost mystical art medium that dates back over 3,000 years to the ancient Greeks.

Encaustic painting combines two main ingredients: beeswax and damar resin.  Damar, used in crystal form, is a sap from a tree native to Malaysia. It is one of the most sustainable resins available today, thanks to harvesting methods that don't harm the tree itself. When melted together with beeswax, damar resin makes the wax harder, more durable and raises its melting point to about 200F (93C)-perfect for art that's meant to last.

This medium is non-toxic, though good ventilation is recommended. The beautiful part? No respirator required. We encaustic artists don't work with traditional "wet and dry"-we work "hot and cold." Heat is essential. It is used to fuse each layer, transforming pigmented wax into luminous, richly textured paintings.

Unlike acrylic or oil paints, encaustic must be applied to a rigid, absorbent surface-like wood. It can't go on canvas, because the flexibility would cause the wax to crack and flake.

Historically, encaustic was used to paint portraits, mythical scenes, and to decorate marble, terra-cotta, ivory-even waterproof ships. Today, it's still relatively unknown, but it's steadily gaining recognition for its strength, versatility and luminous beauty.

And for me? It's magic.

 

 

 

PAREIDOLIA...HUH?

 

Par-ei-do-lia: the tendency to perceive a specific, often meaningful image in a random or ambiguous visual pattern. Think of cloud gazing: you stare up at the sky and suddenly you see a dragon, a face, an animal, or a person dancing in the clouds. Your mind fills in the blanks.
When I was a teenager taking art classes, my Russian art teacher had a strict method. We spent hours copying the works of the old masters-studying every brushstroke, every shadow, every hue. His philosophy was that through mastering technique, true artistic freedom could emerge. 
For years, I chased that kind of perfection, especially in portrait realism. I believed realistic art was more "valuable," more respected, more real. Every single time after I would finish a piece, it rarely felt good enough.
Don't get me wrong-I still deeply admire hyperrealistic work. There's magic in seeing a painting that looks like it could breathe. But for me, that level of control became creatively paralyzing.
I've since fallen in love with abstract expression. Letting go has brought me back to joy.
Yes, I still labour over my compositions, but I'm no longer chasing flawlessness. I'm chasing feeling. I AM CHASING PRESENCE.
Painting in a pareidolic style is like inviting the viewer to sit next to me on that metaphorical bench and cloud-gaze together. You're free to see what you want to see. I'm not dictating the meaning-I'm offering a portal. A quiet space to feel whatever arises.
 
 When I was taking art classes as a teenager, my Russian art teacher was very big on us copying works of old painting masters in order to learn their painting techniques. His goal for us was to master how they apply every brush stroke, their use of colour and how it creates an illusion of something that is three dimensional on a two dimensional substrate. His way of teaching, what felt like to me at that time, was first you become a machine at perfecting the technique, then you can have your freedom in creativity. I have spent years chasing that perfection with portraiture and realism. I have spent years believing that realistic art is far more superior than abstract, contemporary, etc. When I would paint a subject, I would agonize over it's realism on my canvas and when it was done, it still seemed that it was not good enough. Don't get me wrong, I still love seeing artworks where you feel that you can just pluck the subject off the page, but when it comes to me, that level of control is paralyzing to my creativity.
           I love abstract! I find so much joy in letting go, even though I still labour over my composition, I am not attached to the perfection in the final result.
Pareidolia is essentially “cloud gazing” and seeing what you want to see. Painting in that style allows me to share with a viewer what I am feeling without forcing their hand to feel the same, but rather invite them to have seat on that bench and cloud gaze with me. They are encouraged to see what they want to see and feel the feelings that arise.