The feeling I’m painting is my interpretation of the interaction between me and the subject. If it doesn’t move me, I don’t want to paint it. So when I paint something, I’ve already had an interaction with it. My latest series has been The Universal Field. The Universal Field is beneath our thought – a level of consciousness where we have the same intelligence, probably, as the ocean, or the whole biosphere. I really don’t see those colors, I see a peaceful place that isn’t cluttered with mind chatter. I work the colors until I love them. I’m a colorist. The universal field is that place we go between all the thoughts. It’s smaller than atoms, it’s bigger than the Cosmos. It’s a place where all the intelligence is the same.
My colors are imaginative and come from deep inside me, extraordinary, not ordinary, but extraordinary colors. I work until the energy feels like it isn’t just the thing itself – whatever the thing is – a person, and ocean, or a painting of all the energy beneath us. I paint the feelings and relationships between people in a ‘universal field”.
My colors aren’t from something I learned yesterday – they’re from inside whatever energy that I have always been. If I was to visualize the source of life, I’d visualize it in colors. I work until I have colors that I feel convey a meaning and are not contrived. They’re not ‘school colors’. Colors are energy. I work until the energy feels like it isn’t the thing itself, whatever the thing is. If it’s a person, an ocean, or a painting of all the energy underneath us.
People Should Feel Moved
I would like people who see my work to feel ‘moved’; to stand there and feel moved, not just walk by. Maybe it makes them think about things. I want people to feel my work affects them.
“I live to paint”
You may read more, and contact Geri McGilvray, at www.geriart.net
Dear Geri, these are very beautiful paintings. And a very beautiful philosophy. I know what you mean. I love looking at these paintings so full of love and beautiful, subtle, soul-stirring color.
Yours in the Oneness,
Janine Canan