In a recent Instagram post, Cochran writes:
“Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about how to describe my work, and why I make what I do. Mostly it’s observational and autobiographical. I’m not trying to say anything with it. I’m just recording a brief, quiet story.”
On a walk yesterday I saw a hedge of azaleas that stopped me in my tracks.
It had flowers in two shades of pink, all running together like paint spilled onto a canvas and swirling. I felt an urge to document the scene, to honor the grandeur of azalea bushes in the spring.
How would I do it? With a quick watercolor study, oil on panel, some abstract collage that captures the color palette in scraps of paper?
Without an established artistic practice, I’m unmoored, unable to find the traction necessary to begin.
Or is that just an excuse?
Maybe what I really crave is consistency of practice. Even if it’s just the practice of documenting something small each day. A moment, a list, a sketch, a color—anything so long as I reserve a pocket of time to observe, record, pay reverence.