• Posted on

Richard Diebenkorn: Notes to Myself, And What They Mean to My Practice

Richard Diebenkorn Ocean Park series influence — geometric abstract painting by Shilo Ratner, New Haven, CT

My geometric abstractions are rooted in the Bay Area Figurative Movement — a tradition that taught me that abstraction doesn't have to abandon the world, it just has to find a different way of seeing it. Having spent a significant part of my career as an artist in San Francisco, I was immersed in that legacy firsthand surrounded by the light, the landscape, and the artistic culture that shaped Diebenkorn's own vision. There are several artists from that lineage whose work has shaped my thinking, but one stands apart: Richard Diebenkorn.

Diebenkorn moved fluidly between figuration and abstraction throughout his career, and his Ocean Park series remains one of the most quietly powerful bodies of geometric abstract work ever made. His paintings don't announce themselves. They unfold. That quality, restrained, luminous, structurally rigorous, is something I return to again and again in my own practice.

Notes to Myself on Beginning a Painting

While researching the creative process, I came across a remarkable document: a list found among Diebenkorn's papers after his death in 1993, originally shared by blogger Jeane George Weigel. Spelling and capitalization are preserved as in the original.

  1. attempt what is not certain. Certainty may or may not come later. It may then be a valuable delusion.
  2. The pretty, initial position which falls short of completeness is not to be valued, except as a stimulus for further moves.
  3. Do search. But in order to find other than what is searched for.
  4. Use and respond to the initial fresh qualities but consider them absolutely expendable.
  5. Dont "discover" a subject, of any kind.
  6. Somehow don't be bored, but if you must, use it in action. Use its destructive potential.
  7. Mistakes can't be erased but they move you from your present position.
  8. Keep thinking about Polyanna.
  9. Tolerate chaos.
  10. Be careful only in a perverse way.

Why These Notes Still Matter

What strikes me every time I read this list is how practical it is. These aren't grand philosophical statements about art. They're working instructions. Notes from one painter to himself, written in the middle of the struggle that every artist knows: the gap between what you intend and what the work becomes.

"Attempt what is not certain." That one line has stayed with me for years. It's a permission slip and a challenge at the same time. In geometric abstract painting, there's always a temptation to resolve things too quickly, to find the clean line, the satisfying form, and stop there. Diebenkorn's notes push against that. They ask you to stay in the uncertainty longer. To trust that the painting knows something you don't yet.

"Tolerate chaos." Two words that describe the middle of almost every painting I've ever made.

Diebenkorn's Influence on Geometric Abstract Painting

Richard Diebenkorn's influence on contemporary geometric abstract art is difficult to overstate. His Ocean Park series, 135 large-scale paintings made between 1967 and 1988, redefined what geometric abstraction could feel like. Where much geometric abstract work of that era was cool and systematic, Diebenkorn's paintings were warm, atmospheric, and deeply personal. Light moved through them. Color relationships shifted and breathed. That sensitivity to color as a relational force connects directly to the work of Josef Albers. For more on how color perception shapes my own practice, read how Josef Albers shaped the way I see color.

For artists working in geometric abstraction today, his work is a reminder that structure and feeling are not opposites. That a painting can be rigorously composed and emotionally alive at the same time. That's the tension I try to hold in my own work, the geometric form as a container for something less containable.

The Bay Area Figurative Movement and My Practice

The Bay Area Figurative Movement emerged in the 1950s as a reaction against the dominance of Abstract Expressionism, a return to the figure, to place, to the specific. Diebenkorn was central to that movement, alongside David Park and Elmer Bischoff. What I carry forward from that tradition isn't figuration itself, but its underlying values: groundedness, specificity, the sense that a painting should feel like it comes from somewhere real.

Living and working as an artist in San Francisco gave me direct access to that inheritance, the Bay Area light, the particular quality of the air off the water, the culture of serious looking that runs through the city's art institutions. That experience is embedded in how I see and how I paint, even now that my studio practice is based in New Haven, Connecticut, with collectors across the New York, San Francisco Bay Area, and beyond. For a closer look at how that practice began, read A Quiet Beginning in the Studio.

My geometric abstractions, the bold forms, the layered color, the linear compositions that hold tension without resolving it too easily, are shaped by both coasts. Diebenkorn's notes remind me why.

On the Creative Process in Abstract Art

One of the most common questions collectors and visitors ask is: how do you know when a painting is finished? Diebenkorn's notes offer the most honest answer I've ever encountered: you don't, entirely. You make moves. You respond. You tolerate the chaos until something clarifies. And then, if you're lucky, the painting tells you it's done before you've had a chance to overwork it.

That's the creative process in abstract art, as close to the truth as I can put it. For more on how that stillness and clarity shows up in the work itself, read Mountains, Meditation, and Finding Calm Through Art. For more on the philosophy behind the work, read my approach to minimalist landscape art.

Explore Original Geometric Abstract Paintings

If Diebenkorn's approach to geometric abstraction resonates with you, the structure, the color, the willingness to stay in uncertainty, I'd invite you to explore my collection of original geometric abstract paintings and mixed media works on paper.

Shop Original Abstract Art

Works on Paper with a Similar Vibe

If the structured, color-forward energy of this post resonates, these three works from the abstract paper collection share that same tension between geometry and feeling:

  • LV No. 3, bold geometric form, layered color, works on paper
  • LV No. 5, structured composition, expressive mark-making, works on paper
  • LV No. 9, fluorescent pink geometric form, linear energy, works on paper

Commission an Original Work

Interested in a custom geometric abstract painting for your home or collection? Learn more about commissioning an original painting, a one-of-a-kind work made specifically for your space.

Artist Series

This post is part of an ongoing series on artists who have shaped my practice. Each post explores a different figure whose work, ideas, or creative philosophy has left a mark on how I think about painting. Recent posts in the series include:

Browse all posts in the Artist Series.

Read Also

See all Shilo Ratner Art Studio & Exhibition Updates
Full Moon Mountain, a 30x30 geometric abstract painting by Shilo Ratner, featuring a luminous moon above a structured mountain landscape in blue and white
Geometric Art for a Home Office: How Structure and Color Shape the Way You Work
The home office has become one of the most considered rooms in the house. It's where focus meets creativity, and where long hours demand an environment that supports both. Art plays a larger role in that environment than most people realize, and geometric abstract art, with its structure, rhythm, and disciplined use of color, is especially well suited to the space.
Three geometric abstract mountain paintings by Shilo Ratner, featuring bold color and structured form
The Psychology of Color in Art
The Psychology of Color in Art I've been thinking a lot lately about how color functions almost independently from subject matter in painting. Long before we recognize an object, a horizon line, or a figure, we react emotionally to color relationships. That reaction is immediate and psychological. It's one of the reasons I continue returning to artists like Josef Albers and Pierre Bonnard. Their work reminds me that color itself can become the structure, emotion, and atmosphere of a painting. Albers approached color almost scientifically. His studies explored how colors change depending on what surrounds them, how one color can appear completely different when placed beside another. A muted gray can suddenly become luminous. A soft blue can feel cold against one tone and electric against another. What fascinates me about Albers is that he proved color is never fixed. It's relational. Psychological. Unstable in the most beautiful way. Bonnard approached color differently, but with just as much intensity. His paintings dissolve observation into atmosphere. The color combinations are often unexpected: acidic yellows against lavender shadows, saturated oranges beside pale violets, strange greens woven into interiors and skin tones. Yet somehow the paintings feel emotionally true. That balance between dissonance and harmony is something I think about constantly in my own work. When I'm painting water, marshes, or coastal spaces, I'm rarely interested in reproducing literal color. I'm more interested in creating a sensation through color interaction. Sometimes that means pushing warmth into areas that should technically feel cool, or allowing deep ultramarines to sit beside softened blush tones because the tension between those colors creates emotional movement. I think that's where painting becomes less about documentation and more about perception. Certain color combinations can create stillness while others create vibration. A muted blue-gray beside a sharp coral can suddenly make a painting feel alive. Soft tonal shifts can create quietness and distance. Saturation can create physical energy. I notice this especially when layering paint. Often the most important decisions happen when I stop thinking about "local color" entirely and start thinking about temperature, contrast, memory, and emotional weight. That's something Bonnard understood deeply. His paintings were never really about interiors or landscapes alone. They were about light filtered through memory and emotion. The color carried the psychological experience of the space. I think collectors respond to this intuitively, even if they don't consciously analyze why. People often tell me a painting feels calming, expansive, nostalgic, or atmospheric before they ever discuss composition. The emotional response happens first. And honestly, I think that's the power of painting itself. Color bypasses language. It reaches us in a place that feels instinctive, emotional, and almost impossible to fully explain. Related Reading If this resonates, these posts go deeper into the ideas behind the work: How Josef Albers Shaped the Way I See Color — the direct influence of Albers' relational color theory on my geometric practice. Pierre Bonnard and the Color That Holds — how a trip to Paris deepened my understanding of color as emotional memory. Raimonds Staprans: Saturated Color, Presence, and Lasting Impact — another painter who uses color as pure psychological force. Pieces That Connect These works came directly out of the ideas above, color as structure, tension as atmosphere: Sail Away, 36×36 — ultramarine and warm coral in direct tension, the color does the emotional work before the subject registers. Beach, 30×30 — soft tonal shifts across a geometric plane, stillness created through temperature rather than subject. Harbor, 30×40 — deep blues and muted neutrals layered to create distance and quiet, the kind of atmospheric weight Bonnard understood. Bring This Into Your Space If you've ever felt drawn to a painting before you could explain why, that's color doing exactly what it's meant to do. Explore the collection to find the piece that holds that feeling for you, or inquire about a custom commission if you have a specific palette or feeling in mind. Explore the Collection →
Shilo Ratner working in her studio on a geometric abstract painting
What Makes a Painting Feel Alive?
There's a moment in the studio when a painting stops needing you. Shilo Ratner reflects on what makes a painting feel emotionally alive, from intuitive color choices and visible layers to the tension between imperfection and completion.
Beach 30x30 original geometric abstract painting by Shilo Ratner on white wall
One Painting, Fully Explained: Beach
Most paintings get a title, a price, and a few sentences. This one takes a closer look. Beach is a 30 × 30 geometric abstract painting built from the logic of the shoreline, behavior, not appearance. This is a complete breakdown: where it started, how it was built, what changed, and what most people miss. See Beach in the collection → The Initial Idea The starting point wasn't a visual. It was a behavior. I kept returning to the way water moves at the shoreline, not the look of it, but the logic. The tide doesn't repeat exactly. Each wave recedes at a slightly different angle, leaves a slightly different edge, pulls back with slightly different force. There's a system operating, but it never produces the same result twice. A system needs enough repetition to be legible, but enough variation to stay alive. That tension between system and variation is what I wanted to build into a painting. Not a picture of the beach. A painting that works the way the beach works. Building the System The canvas is square, which matters. A square doesn't have a natural direction. It doesn't push the eye left to right or top to bottom the way a landscape format does. That neutrality was useful here, because the movement had to come entirely from the forms themselves, not from the shape of the support. The composition is built from horizontal bands that shift, compress, and interrupt each other. They function as tidal layers: each one moving at a different rate, overlapping without merging. The eye follows the edges rather than any single focal point. There's no center of gravity. The painting holds attention by distributing it. That relationship between rhythm and structure is something I explored more directly in Ebb and Flow Abstract Painting: When Surrender Becomes Creation. I also made a deliberate decision to keep the forms hard-edged. Soft edges would read as atmospheric, impressionistic, wave-like in a literal sense. Hard edges force the geometry to carry the movement instead. The result feels more like a diagram of the coast than a depiction of it. Color Logic The palette is blue and neutral, but the neutrals are doing most of the structural work. A range of warm and cool off-whites sits alongside the blues, and the temperature shifts between them create a subtle spatial push and pull. Warmer neutrals advance slightly. Cooler ones recede. That movement is quiet, but it's what gives the painting depth without relying on illusionistic perspective. The same principle is at work in How Josef Albers Shaped the Way I See Color. The blues are controlled rather than expressive. Some lean toward slate, others toward a washed cerulean, others toward near-gray. Each one is chosen for its relationship to the forms around it, not for emotional effect on its own. The emotion comes from the whole, not any single color. I also kept the value range relatively compressed. High contrast would have created drama. I was after something steadier, calm, but still in motion. The result is a kind of unsettled calm, like watching the tide without needing it to resolve. What Changed Along the Way The early version had more forms, more bands, more interruptions, more variation in width. It was busier, and that busyness worked against the system. I simplified. Removed two horizontal elements entirely. Widened two of the remaining bands so the rhythm slowed down. The painting became quieter, and paradoxically more active, because the eye had room to move between the forms rather than being crowded by them. The frame color also changed. The original frame was a cooler white that competed with the lightest tones in the painting. I switched to a warmer wood finish that separates cleanly from the canvas without pulling attention. What Viewers Don't Notice The edges of the forms are not perfectly parallel. This is intentional. If every horizontal band were exactly parallel, the painting would feel mechanical, static, like a striped field rather than a system in motion. The slight deviations, a degree or two at most, create the sense that the forms are shifting relative to each other. It reads as movement without being obvious about it. Most people also don't notice how few colors are actually in the painting. From a distance it reads as rich and varied. Up close, the palette is spare. That compression is part of the discipline: getting a lot of visual information from a small number of decisions. The bottom edge of the composition is slightly heavier than the top. The forms there are wider, the values slightly darker. It grounds the painting without making it feel weighted down. It's the visual equivalent of the shoreline itself, the place where everything settles before the next wave comes through. If that kind of movement resonates with you, Beach is available as a framed original, 30 × 30 inches, ready to hang. If you'd like to see it in your space before deciding, I'm happy to help with that. You can also browse the full coastal paintings collection for related works. View Beach →  |  Questions: shiloratner@gmail.com
Buy original art with payment plans - flexible installment payments available
Making Art More Accessible: A New Way to Collect Original Paintings
I still remember the first painting I bought for myself. I was in my early 20s, standing in a small gallery, going back and forth on whether I should do it. It felt like a big deal, because it was. I was excited, but also nervous about spending the money. I didn't fully understand yet what it meant to live with a piece of original art, only that I wanted my apartment to feel more like mine, more considered, more complete.
Geometric abstract painting displayed on a white wall, showing structured form and color in an interior setting- Artist Shilo Ratner
The First Mark Matters More Than You Think
Early decisions act as constraints, but not in a restrictive way. They create direction. A horizon line placed slightly higher or lower shifts the entire spatial experience. A compressed shape changes how the surrounding space breathes. A color introduced too early can either anchor the work or flatten it. These choices don't just sit on the surface. They organize everything that follows. The painting begins to build from that first condition.
Original geometric abstract painting by Shilo Ratner hanging in a home interior
What Happens After You Buy a Painting?
Most conversations about art end at the point of purchase. But what happens after a painting comes home? That's where the real story begins, and where the value of original art truly reveals itself.
Geometric abstract art collection guide - tips for art collectors by Shilo Ratner
How to Collect Geometric Abstract Art: The Complete Guide | Shilo Ratner
As an artist whose work has been exhibited in museums and represented by respected galleries, I’ve seen how a painting can transform a space, spark conversation, and even become an investment. First-time collectors often wonder whether a piece will “fit” their home or lifestyle, but the truth is: trust your instincts.
Theophilus Brown monograph, Bay Area Figurative Movement, from Shilo Ratner's personal collection
Tea with Theophilus Brown
A reflection on meeting Theophilus Brown after being selected for the Art Space 712 portrait exhibition in San Francisco.
Geometric Painter Shilo Ratner artist interview with Embrace Creatives
Original Geometric Art: Interview with Shilo Ratner
Geometric abstract artist Shilo Ratner discusses her creative process, artistic influences including Hilma af Klint and Agnes Martin, and the philosophy behind her contemplative geometric paintings in this Embrace Creatives interview.
Gallery view of geometric abstract landscape paintings by Shilo Ratner
The Influence of Nature on My Landscape Paintings
Nature has an incredible way of grounding us — and that influence is central to my landscape-inspired artwork. Rather than painting literal scenes, my work abstracts natural forms into simplified shapes and layered compositions. 
Traces of Stillness — 6x6 inch original landscape collage series by Shilo Ratner, layered paper works on paper
Traces of Stillness: New Landscape Collage Series
Traces of Stillness is a contemplative 6×6 inch collage series by Shilo Ratner exploring quiet mountain landscapes through minimal form, layered paper, and subtle geometry. Original works on paper available now.
Pockets Filled With Hope 5x10ft geometric abstract painting installation at Southern Connecticut State University
Pockets Filled With Hope SCSU!
Large-scale public art installation: Pockets Filled With Hope, a 5x10ft geometric abstract painting by Shilo Ratner, installed at Southern Connecticut State University School of Business.