windma.net

Category: Art

  • Now on Saatchi!

    Now on Saatchi!

    I always feel a bit weird calling myself an artist. I’ve sold one or two small works in the past, but mostly I’ve kept my paintings. If it were up to me, I’d keep most of them, but I’ve been thinking about moving lately, and I might not be able to keep lugging around all of these canvases. So the time has come to sell them.

    Wind Ma, The Island, 2024, acrylic on canvas, 12″ x 12″. Saatchi Art.

    I’ve been slowly adding works to the inventory, but you should already see one or two paintings. There are also prints available for all of them, at relatively affordable prices, but it would be great if the actual paintings found a good home.

    Wind Ma, Sunset at Citrus Crossing, 2024, acrylic on canvas, 6″ x 4″. Saatchi Art.

    As you can see, I’m absolutely not a photorealistic painter! To me, that’s what photos are for, and part of why I love taking them. But I’m drawn to expressive/naive approaches, so you’ll see a lot of that in the gallery.

    Wind Ma, Hunter’s Moon, 2024, acrylic on canvas, 6″ x 4″, TBA.

    Wind Ma, Wild Hibiscus, 2023, acrylics on canvas, 16″ x 20″, Saatchi Art.

    You can check out the full portfolio at saatchiart.com/windma. Would be grateful if you spread the word! If you’d like to know more about any such artwork, you can e-mail me at contact@windma.net.

  • Five Ways to See a Rose

    Five Ways to See a Rose

    Woke up today in the mood for a bit of doodling. I don’t consider myself a particularly good draughtsperson but I’ve also learned to grow fond of my style. The artistic journey is like that, I suppose: sometimes it’s not about transforming your style into something “better” but something that you learn to enjoy and see as your own.

    Other times, it’s not the precision or the perfectionism of what you draw (or make, in general), but how you approach it that matters.

    Take these roses, for example. They’re just sketches; they’re not meant to be masterpieces, and that is okay. More to the point, they are observations: five manifest observations of a rose, an object that we know from nature.

    “A rose is a rose is a rose,” Gertrude Stein once said. The verse is evocative of the timeless and ever-present nature of an object, sans associations. We can think of a rose as part of a bouquet, part of a vase or part of a bush but it is first and foremost a rose. Alternatively, we can think of a rose and, with each enunciation, a different variety of one. The rose that I imagine the first time might not be the one that I imagine the next; the rose that first came to mind might not be the one that came to yours. So it is with roses, and everything else in nature.

    A rose is a rose is a rose. Each rose captures a moment in thought, a moment of perception, a moment in time. No two roses are alike; in the mind, the rose becomes infused with the ink of mood and memory, if not the fragrance of time.

  • After the Party Ends

    After the Party Ends

    Went out for a walk the other day. And the dusk, as usual, masked the descent of another day into the horizon.

    I love dusk. I love the liminality of it. The cool warmth; the warm coolness of the pavement as it exhales the toils of the day.

    And yet, nostalgia seeps from marrow to bone. Walking through the city, following the simple to-and-fro of its indifferent rhythms, I wondered about what life could have been had different roads been taken.

    While I’m grateful for where I am, I had plans and expectations–few if any have emerged to fruition. Old frustrations pulse beneath a scar that flares. I’ve been here seven years and neither one thing nor the other has actually happened, all the while surrounded by a system that never fails to tell me my dreams are not my own, my dreams are too big, or that the simple dream of surviving decently is too much to ask.

    A system that insists on telling me where I need to stand, where I need to go and when I can speak (plot twist: up to them, never. The system demands silence while others appropriate my words)

    Surrounded by glass and mirror the road itself seems so free.

    Still I find ways to smile and take life as it comes. There is only one, after all. I intend to live it wherever I am.

    Liminality is interesting. Neither in one place nor the other: life unfolds regardless, after the party ends.

  • Still Life Sequence (with Plants)

    Still Life Sequence (with Plants)

  • Gibberish Reflections

    Gibberish Reflections

    Abstract art can be vexing. Even at one’s most imaginative, the idea that art needs to depict something is, by default, unquestionable.

    What if what is being depicted is hard to see?

    I like the idea of art “putting the brain to work,” so to speak; and abstract art seems to do this by encouraging the brain to come up with its own visual. It is the semi-psychic idea that art can be produced in the mind just as well as if the image was concretely on canvas.

    Abstract Expressionism epitomized this idea: can you glean the forms of the city in Pollock’s #48?

    I’m no Jackson Pollock, of course, but yesterday I found myself in a surprisingly abstract mood, and so, compelled to simply work with acrylic and brush, I put some of my neon purple blacklight paint to work. There was no plan to follow; the brush told the story as it dragged through the paper, with some interesting results.

    Can you see what I see?

    Can you see how the forms shift?

    Can you see how shapes contort into life-forms?

  • Los Angeles Geometric #35

    Los Angeles Geometric #35

    Something that I love about Downtown Los Angeles is its flowing geometricity. One gets the sense that one object in the environment leads to another in straightforward, visually harmonic ways. There is a minimalistic sleekness in this compact skyline; it condenses and subtracts; it interacts and one can feel at times as if assembling a visual—perhaps spatial–puzzle; “construct your own view,” so to speak.

    There is a begrudging charm to this no-nonsense approach to the city grid, which is structured but also surprisingly fluid. Out for a walk today near downtown, I appreciated the curves and slopes of the streets, helping your eyes go along for a jog.

  • “Pasadía” as Sensory Triptych

    “Pasadía” as Sensory Triptych

    I was going through some of my floral artworks today, just minded to observe the relationships between them in some detail, when three works caught my attention: Blossoms at High Noon, Tiny Apple Blossoms, and Pasadía (original collage).

    Mostly, I love the formal connection between them; how one branch leads into the other, establishing a sequence between the works. Juxtaposing these images, it occurred to me that so much of perception is like that, intentionally or non.

    These three scenes in particular lead the eye from dimness to clarity to the creative junction of disparate visuals, creating a coherent whole. These florid branches of apple blossoms, seen from afar, have been made dim by the searing clarity of the light behind them. So it goes with life: sometimes a handful of light creates a fistful of shadow. Zooming in to the tiny apple blossoms, we can appreciate more clearly the subtle nuances of each flower. Petals interact in proximity, in natural harmony, in turn perceived as a delicacy by the eye.

    So much is derived from the harmony of nature. A sense of balance, of fulfilling logic, emerges from these simple events within and throughout nature, just waiting to be grasped.

    The final artwork is named Pasadía (“Day Trip”) because it unfailingly evokes in me that simple freedom of spending a day outdoors, enjoying sights and little treats. These simple but necessary experiences in life help us reset and focus on reality as lived momentum.

    Contextualized by the two photographs, Pasadía also strikes me as the culmination of a centered awareness on nature’s details. We are able to access these moments as we live them, as they are encountered the first time, and we are also able to recover them from memory and reinvent them in novel, interesting ways. As such, the pasadía lives outside and within, forever melding across consciousnesses to infuse our present lives with meaning.

    Through collage, some of that perceptual layering becomes expressible through reliefs. Here I rather like how light meets paper to create a lived sense of illumination. Shadows naturally frame the work, also evoking the paradoxical effects of lighting.

  • “Collage 26” E-Book Campaign: Success!

    “Collage 26” E-Book Campaign: Success!

    Hey Everyone! I’m happy to share that the Collage 26 free e-book campaign was a success! 🎉

    Many thanks to all who downloaded the photobook. If you enjoy the photo-collage art exhibit, I hope that you consider leaving a review on the Collage 26 Amazon page (windma.net/collage26). Comments here or through contact@windma.net are also greatly appreciated!

    If you missed the free e-book promo, you’ll be glad to know that, in gratitude for the support, the Collage 26 e-book price has been lowered to just $2.99! So… grab it while it lasts!

    There is also a print version available at $14.99. There’s something about printed art that hits a bit different, so I hope you consider getting the printed exhibit as well ^_^

    See the Full Color Image

    —> https://windma.net/collage26 —> Paperback!

    (and e-book)

    🎨 📖 📸

    Thanks again for the support! I know there is an impossible amount of exclamation points in this post. I think that the level of excitement warrants them, so here’s another one!

    More updates soon!

  • My “Collage 26” Paperback is HERE!

    My “Collage 26” Paperback is HERE!

    Hi Everyone! I’m quite ecstatic today—my paperback copy of Collage 26 arrived today! And y’all, it looks so feature-fresh; I’m happy 😀

    Wind Ma with her paperback 😀

    I’m sharing some highlights to celebrate! Of course, nothing beats having the book in your hands and all, but check out the texture of actual paper:

    You may have noticed that the photos have no captions underneath them. These works do have titles, but they’ve been included as an appendix, so as to not detract from the artwork itself.

    If you’re curious, head over to windma.net/collage26 to get your copy today!

    You can also send me comments or questions to contact@windma.net.

    Follow me on Blue Sky for more updates! 😀

  • Inés Wind Nature Photography

    Inés Wind Nature Photography

    A good sailor knows that there are many winds driving ships across the sea. And because art has a funny way of mirroring life, especially without intention, so too does artistic inspiration have many Winds.

    Well, one of these Winds, at least for me, is called Inés. I don’t know why this fragment of inspo decided to be called Inés—I simply obeyed, and set off on the task of documenting nature.

    One of my photography profs said that Amsel Adams’ style of photography was passé. Nature photography, he argued, was more relevant in the past, when people lacked the means to travel; to take hearty vacations in remote places with hiking trails. “Now-a-days, everyone has smart phones that can take these sort of photos,” he said (more or less).

    And while that may be true, in a way, it certainly doesn’t cancel the fact that the awe inspired by nature is timeless. Even Kant essentially argued that, while Nature is not art, its greatness is certainly understandable as a source of inspiration.

    In any case, it certainly true for me that nature never ceases to spark wonder. An intense sunset is a poetic experience. A grand mountain is a source of peace. I once encountered a bunch of seagulls at the beach, and they all gathered to appreciate the amazing sunset blazing over the horizon. Even animals have a sense of appreciation for the wonders of nature. As animals ourselves, this instinct to “awe over nature” will always lead to some form of creative expression.

    Check out ines-wind.framer.art for more cool art! You can also find her at https://www.flickr.com/photos/i_wind/