Immoral sells better.

Ah, as though I were living in a glass house - or studio. Actually, I have issues with my choices there: through a glass darkly puts me in mind of an empty beer bottle and Plato can have his caves for all I care anymore. None of which has anything to do with your point.

And re the light — here I thought you had some kind of mysterious process of painting that would bring us to light reflected _and_ light passing through. It’s an obsession of mine — sort of like Through a Glass, Darkly and/or Plato’s parable of the cave. Take your choice.

You didn’t miss much.

Reflected vs.transmitted in the sense that the Notre Dame bell tower is treated as basically a stone and brick surface from which light bounces to the eye, vs. the cathedral interior in which I tried to deal with the sun’s rays passing directly through glass. In the first painting I made a big deal of using glazes in the hopes of softening up the look of the brick. I found little need to do that in the cathedral painting.

there is no orthodoxy surrounding my choice of the “innie” vs. the “outie” approach. The Fallingwater painting might have worked on board just as well. All in all the creation of bumps and plateaus seems more to my nature. But then you might remember, some years back, my putting up a painting of the Cleveland skyline with a lot of criss-crossing power lines. That was a foam painting and the lines stood out rather well.

I hope you caught my wish that you write a book - either a tome or an account of your adventures.

And I’m in the midst of finishing up a post that continues this conversation about Working the surface of our art. I’m hoping to proof it one more time and publish it this (Saturday) evening.

Secondly, thanks, Melanie, for looking up my old post. I’ve been a bit swamped lately and saw the message but you did the work before I got to it.

Third, Jay, I think I’m missing some vital tech-speak in your description: “The previous exercise led to this image of the interior of an unknown perpendicular cathedral. It employed the same methodology as the prior image, but an attempt was made in this case to deal with transmitted light. I kept applying ever lighter tones until the image almost disappeared. This was followed by some darkening.”

I don’t know what you mean by “transmitted light” which seems to be contrasted to the work on the piece above. Maybe it’s the difference between opaque and transparent paints, in which case I guess I am following. But I thought I’d check.

Finally, do you decide to do “frieze” work — raising the surface — or “incised” work — gouging out the surface because of the subject matter or the nature of light that will be raking the surface or some other reason? I guess I’m even curious as to whether you are thinking “raising or cutting away” (the black areas on your first piece or “gouging out, with the positive space being that which is gouged rather than that which is raised?”

With the quilted line, there is always the positive/negative space question vis-a-vis raised space and stitched line. It’s sometimes confusing to me, something I actually have to rationally work out. Other times it simply is intuitive.

Finally, Melanie, the quilted line is a bit more diffuse, softer, in its nature than Jay’s foam and wood intaglios, I think. I can sometimes get something closer to that sharp edge if I use a fusible batting and silk, but cotton batting and fabric tend to be more limp. Even if the cottons are “packed” — that is, filled with extra batting as in trapunto — they have rounded edges that soften the line.

The use of raised areas on board is more like using a fork while the foam is like eating with one’s fingers - they both have their moments, but the one is more refined.

In that the foam and I stand for something together, then I’ll admit to being suburban and somewhat crispy. The white in the central area is indeed a reflection, and a reflection upon my propensity for things shiny. Steve has given up suggesting better ways for me to photograph objects.