Saturday, December 7, 2013

Little Boxes

I love this song, and this is one of the reasons I paint... I'll explain at the end...

Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes made of ticky tacky,
Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes all the same.
There's a green one and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one,
And they're all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.

And the people in the houses
All went to the university,
Where they were put in boxes
And they came out all the same,
And there's doctors and lawyers,
And business executives,
And they're all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.

And they all play on the golf course
And drink their martinis dry,
And they all have pretty children
And the children go to school,
And the children go to summer camp
And then to the university,
Where they are put in boxes
And they come out all the same.

And the boys go into business
And marry and raise a family
In boxes made of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.
There's a green one and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one,
And they're all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.

words and music by Malvina Reynolds; copyright 1962 Schroder Music Company, renewed 1990

I would have loved to have had the opportunity to hold a conversation with this woman. I don't know what she stood for but I sure love this song. So I was thinking to myself.. why do I paint??? This song is it in a nutshell. Let me explain...

We all know that the way we look does not define us, nor does the occupation we choose. Well, we know that because we are told that but in reality, how do we choose our clothing? Do the clothes we choose define who we are? Does the hairstyle? Does the music we listen to? How about the car we drive? What about the jobs we seek? Do we or do we not have a college education? To a degree, I think we do try to define ourselves by these things. I have tried to "define" myself by other's ideas of what I should be like. If I am an artist, I must wear artist clothes. I must behave a certain way, and I must be a bit crazy. Actually, I am an artist because I can't be placed in a box that has walls that are defined by others. I simply don't fit in other's boxes. More precisely, I don't fit in the box I try to squeeze myself into.

When I paint, I think to myself "Okay, I am going to paint this landscape because it is taking my breath away and wow, did you see those colors???". So I start with a typical palette of color. As I try to paint the way I expect the painting to turn out I grow frustrated. Halfway through the painting I switch gears, mostly out of frustration that the painting is boring. Then, this frustration turns to a dare. Who says the colors have to be the expected colors? Why can't the tree have yellow there, or magenta there or, for that matter, blue? Breaking out of this box of expectation reminds me that no, this painting does not have to fit a definition. It doesn't have to fit in a category, or be defined by what other artists have done. For a moment, while I am painting, I don't have to follow any rules. I can do whatever I want. It's my way of rebelling against a definition commonly accepted as "the way things should be". The freedom is liberating, and that is why I paint.

I still have to do my  hair in the morning, and match my clothes, and clean my car. I still want my college education, and a nice house that is painted in today's popular colors, but I get to break out of the box when I paint. That is where I find my freedom.

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