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Under The Wire

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Late night tonight. I was here most of the day but was doing a million other things besides art. It is the one bridge I have yet to cross, the one where I make art a priority in my day. I didn’t begin to paint until a little over two hours ago. I’m not quite sure why. As I said last night, I am feeling confident, things are coming easier, but I am still doing my “homework” at the very last minute. It’s how I got through high school, but high school was a very, very long time ago. Admittedly there were days at the beginning of this project when it did feel like homework, but that feeling has long since passed. Yes, there are days when I’m not quite in the mood, but once I start working its fine. I need to start earlier in the day so that I’m not painting when my eyes are closing, or worse yet, painting in the yard when it has gotten dark. I can’t continue to work at the last minute.

I grabbed the acrylics again tonight. I admit, I was getting frustrated. Oils are so easy for shading and adding highlights. I find acrylics so difficult. Tomorrow I’m going to look through my vast amounts of crap to see if I do indeed have one of those delay drying additives, if not I may have to go get some. The painting tonight is based on the photography of someone else. Who? I have no idea. I have a lot of photos in my computer that I scanned because there was something that appealed to me, the spade that I painted was only part of a magazine page. I have been trying to stay away from painting from work that isn’t mine, but it was late, I was tired, and I just wanted something simple, (or at least I thought so) so hats off to the photographer. Thanks for the inspiration.

 

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A Momenteous Occasion (For Me)

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Tonight is my 100th post. What that means for me is that I have stuck with doing something for myself, not something I’m accustomed to doing. It has only been ninety days since I began my blog, the other ten posts were of photos, and I actually haven’t posted one hundred pieces of art as I had hoped to when I reached this point. Life has a way of deciding for you what will work out. In this small span of time so much has happened that I didn’t take into consideration when I started out. There are people in my life who have had the joy of birth, the sorrow of death, loss of a job, and as for myself, illness, twice, that I hadn’t counted on, new friends, reconnecting with family, and in particular discovering who in my life really care enough to support me and my dreams. I have changed, I am finding my artistic voice, I am growing confident in my work, and I am producing more art than I have in my entire life. I always said that I never figured out what I wanted to be when I grew up. I still haven’t, there are far too many ways to fulfill my desire to create and I don’t want to limit myself to one. I know I don’t have to. So, I will continue on this journey and hope that it continues to be as satisfying as it has been thus far. I mentioned several posts ago that I realized that some projects will take more than a day, so that meant that at the end of this year I might not necessarily have three hundred sixty-five pieces of work. The project of using up everything in my studio over the course of this year has evolved, and as I stated before, it is my project and I make the rules. It is true that I don’t have an individual piece of art for every day because some things do take longer, but now I think I want to add that challenge to myself, to complete three hundred sixty five pieces by April 13th of next year. That’s a lot of work, but I feel confident enough to try.

For tonight I was inspired by a lovely day with friends in La Jolla. We had lunch within sight of the Pacific, it was an overcast day with an unusual sprinkling of a few rain drops. For some reason it left me feeling nostalgic. I have application on our home computer called Poladroid. It is a program that lets you change digital photos into what looks like an old Polaroid. I love it. As I was looking through my photos for inspiration tonight, I came across a photo I had added the Poladroid to. I stayed true to my promise of an attempt to paint in acrylics, and using my day as inspiration, and the idea of the old Polaroid in my head, a beach scene. I still have a hard time with acrylics from a blending standpoint. I know there are additives that can help, I may look into that. However, I am happy with my painting.

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The Recycler Strikes Again!

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I spent the afternoon helping a friend with a very special art project, I failed to ask her permission to use the art, and I don’t feel comfortable using it without her permission.  So tonight as I sit in the garden I decided to do another pastel on newspaper since I enjoyed the results last night. I have some Black-eyed Susan growing in the garden and honestly barely glanced at them, just sort of used the idea of them for inspiration. I grabbed a piece of today’s paper, grabbed my chalk and went to work. Not a masterpiece, just a very enjoyable exercise sitting outside on a beautiful night.

I am itching to get back to oil painting, unfortunately I couldn’t get an appointment with my doctor until the end of the month, and until I know for sure that my lungs are clear, I must behave. I’ve been doing a lot of watercolor since I started this blog, and while I do enjoy it, I get bored using the same materials. I’m thinking it is time to pull out the acrylics. I’ve primarily used acrylics for painting on wood, not as much on canvas. I find them so difficult to maneuver. I think again, it is a matter of practice.  Tomorrow is the day. I actually have an orphaned painting in mind, and looking forward to the challenge.  Wish me luck!7 10

A Day At Play

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I have no masterpiece to post tonight, but maybe then again, I do. I spent my day working on Emily’s House, the paper doll house for my special little friend. I have to admit I got very carried away with this project and I’m only halfway done. I woke at 4:30 this morning, (Thanks neighbor for leaving your lights on in the garden all night! I thought it was daylight and got up too early) then I came downstairs, saw the clock and cursed, tried to go back to sleep on the couch, but it was hopeless. The universe, and two of my cats, had decided that I needed to be more productive. Last night I had left some of the pieces of Emily’s paper doll house sitting out, so I went to work. That’s right, four-thirty in the morning and I’m making a paper doll house. I didn’t mind in the least. With each wall I make I am that much closer to giving it to Emily, and the thought of that brings a smile to my face. I worked on it pretty much all day. At one point this afternoon the thought occurred to me that I should be working on my art, but I realized I already was. I’m going to post a few photos, including my rather impressive fridge that has a door that really opens, but I can’t reveal too much yet, I will post the entire house when its done. To say I’m getting a little crazy is an understatement. My mother commented once when I was a kid that there was something wrong with me, I was always  cutting paper. I still cut a lot of paper, I’m still a little different, and I still make enormous messes (I mention that last part because as I write, Dan is picking up tiny scraps of paper off the couch) but I have never lost the love of creating, no matter how big or small the project, it’s the process that brings me joy.

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Van Gogh In A Cup

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Do you ever read those stories (usually in the National Enquirer, my Mom’s bible) about the people who see Jesus in a knot hole on a tree or Mary in a grilled cheese? I had a similar experience this morning, although you might not consider mine a religious one. For those who read my blog and know me personally, they know that my wonderful husband begins each and every day making me a beautiful cappuccino. The man has a gift for making them, foam so thick you could almost bounce a quarter off of it, and just the perfect amount of cinnamon sprinkled on the top. I look forward to them every morning, but particularly on Sunday when we sit and drink coffee and read the papers together. This morning after I finished my coffee, I put my cup on the table and continued to read my paper. When I put the paper down what should appear before my eyes but a Van Gogh in my cup. A wondrous cinnamon and foam sky swirling above a lone tree on a hill. I know it’s no Mary on a potato chip, and some of you may consider it stretching the imagination, but I was very inspired by it. I believe it is a sign from the great artist studio in the sky that I need to use this cappuccino residue as the inspiration for a painting. (Well, either that or all the paint fumes have gone to my head) Did I call the Enquirer in order to make an appearance with my cup? No, I washed my one shot at fame with the breakfast dishes, although I did take a photograph to share with the unbelieving public. And since we all know that for the moment I am staying away from oils, (which might be a good idea based on this post) I did paint a quick watercolor study of my discovery. I will document my visionary find by posting the photo I took, and my quick sketch.

I also wanted something else, searching beyond my dirty dishes I simply flipped open a magazine and decided to paint whatever my finger landed on. I figured I had a shot at something half way decent since I was flipping through Romantic Homes.

Two works tonight. My quick study, watercolor of course, and a glass pitcher of roses, also watercolor. (Not at all thrilled with the results of my roses, but in all honesty I was rushing it, and watching television at the same time) I failed to mention that our dishwasher broke a few days ago, could it be that it was fated? (I don’t think Dan would agree with that) Or is it maybe a sign that I need to look before I rinse?

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Saturday At The Market

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Our usual Saturday here in Temecula is a visit to our wonderful local Farmer’s market. It is one of my favorite things to do, especially because I love cooking so much, I look forward to it all week. We often talk as we stroll along about what we might want to cook for that night’s dinner, and Dan buys me flowers. There are food stalls in addition to the beautiful fresh produce, a French creperie, Italian sausage that is made locally, African food, Middle Eastern food, and so much more. The colors and aromas of the market are rich with vibrancy and flavor. There are the same vendors week after week, who come to know us and greet us with smiles. Our city is small, but a city none the less, however the market gives it the kind of small town intimacy that is missing in so much of the world today. Last year I took my camera along for the day and snapped some photos of the beautiful displays. I may do that again next week, but this time I think I’d like to take some pictures of the shoppers and vendors. An interesting mix of people, definitely some colorful characters. One of my favorite paintings is Edward Hopper’s Nighthawks. It’s funny how often that painting comes to mind when I’m in an area where people are gathered. I have an orphaned painting up in my studio that I will have to dig out. A photograph I took at a Starbucks of a woman sitting on a stool with her back to me. Again, a “Hopper” moment. Something about how lost in thought she seemed and the position of her body appealed to me. I need to finish that piece. I think I’d also like to attempt a scene, a painting with more than a singular figure in it. It would definitely be a challenge for me, but these days I am feeling a little fearless and inspired in my work.

Tonight a few of last year’s photos, and a pen and ink of an item from the Farmer’s market, an onion.

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Inspired Day

I had a really productive day today. I started my morning in our beautiful garden taking photographs. I should say I tried to start my day that way. One of our cats, Mia, loves to come outside with us. We have three, all indoor cats. By mutual consent Mia has agreed to wear a leash and collar. (OK, maybe not so mutual, but I follow her upstairs by demand to turn the faucet on in the tub so she can drink, there isn’t anything mutual about that decision either!) Mia loves a good cat massage, particularly on her face. She followed me around the garden mewing until I gave in. I spent a good twenty minutes petting her until she decided she had enough. After Mia’s session was over, (no tip) I finished photographing the garden, and then I began finishing up last night’s portrait of my Mom. I really wasn’t happy with it last night, much happier this evening!2013 garden (24)

I wasn’t sure (as usual) what I wanted to do today. I was uploading the photos out of my camera and decided to use one of my photos for inspiration. Before I began working I looked at my daughter’s Facebook page. Jessica had posted some photographs from a trip to Venice Beach with her husband John, and their dog Otis. There was one in particular that I really liked, so that became my project. I have been really dying to get back to my paintbrush, but until I get an OK from the doc that my lungs are clear, watercolor will have to suffice. The painting of John and Otis didn’t take long, and I felt terrific doing it. I even commented to Dan how relaxed I feel in my work these days. Despite my evil nemesis, Perspective, and the unusually quiet “you’re not good enough” voice in my head, and my stubborn refusal to read direction of any kind, I feel like I am making leaps and bounds in my artistic confidence. So much so that when I finished John and Otis I decided to jump right into another painting. (I do want to catch up on those lost sick days) I looked through the photos from the garden and picked one of my Echinacea. I love the color, and wanted the challenge of painting the prickly tops. Success! By the time I was finished and looked at the clock it was after six. I need more days like today.

 

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A Day To Remember

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No complaints tonight, we won’t even begin to mention my nemesis.

Today is a day to remember people who I love. Six years ago my Mother went in for a surgery that she never came home from. No, today isn’t the anniversary of her death, but rather the anniversary of the last day that I saw my Mom before three weeks of pain and heartbreak began. I will always be grateful that I made it to the hospital in Illinois in time to say, “I love you”, just before she went into surgery. I miss her terribly, and talk to her daily. I always saw her as somewhat of a wounded soul, someone I wanted to take care of. I think she was a fountain of untapped talent, there was a little Martha Stewart there long before Martha ever wrote a book or cooked a meal. I think part of what drives me now is that I don’t think she ever realized how special and talented she was. I am her daughter, and I owe it to her to stop wasting the talent she gave me.

Today is also the 5th anniversary of my father in-laws passing. Sadly, a year after I lost my Mother, my husband lost his Father. A Lieutenant Colonel in the U.S. Air Force. A fine decent man, a true hero in a day where that word is often overused. A man who didn’t speak unless it meant something, and with little time for nonsense. My kids still remember when Poppy called it “UN-American” when Jessica didn’t like whipped cream, or Brian didn’t like cheese. Don, we all miss you.

For tonight I really felt like painting with oils, but I’m still wheezing just a little, so no oils for me just yet. Instead I played with pastels. Another in the long list of things that I just do without really knowing what I’m doing. But you know what? I’m starting to be ok with that. I started drawing, didn’t like where it was going, but kept going. I was using pastel paper, and to be honest don’t care for the texture of it. Eventually I grabbed some colored pencils and worked the two mediums together. I do want to experiment with pastels a little more, but I think I may use Bristol next time. The rough surface of the pastel paper makes blending a little difficult.

I also spent a little time on my doll house project, which is coming along nicely. I have gotten very ambitious with it so it may take a week to complete!7 3 (2)

The “P” Word, Yet Again!

 

Perspective. Just the sound of the word makes me freeze in horror. No, I am not admitting defeat. If you read last night’s post (and twenty other posts about it) you know that my evil nemesis had thwarted my plans to do a painting with perspective. Yesterday I had this grand plan to do a complete series of gates, windows, and doors. Then last night happened. I’m truly not giving up, just giving myself a break from the aggravation and frustration that I experienced last night. What you might find at the very least mildly amusing, is that I actually spent a good part of my afternoon beginning the panels for a paper doll house for a very special little friend of mine. Several weeks ago I did a pastel chalk of Emily. I turned that portrait into a paper doll, complete with wardrobe. Emily the paper doll needs a home, a friend, maybe some pets, probably some furniture for her paper house…..getting carried away here. There is no better thing in this world than the smile on a child’s face, I wish I could do it for every kid. I said I needed to do some catch up on my project, Emily’s house will be part of that. It might not be “fine art”, but quite frankly it’s so much fun I can’t wait to get back to it. I love design. As a child I didn’t really enjoy playing with Barbie dolls, I did however really enjoy designing their house. I have three sisters, and we never really had one of those factory made Barbie houses. We had random furniture, some Barbie, some generic doll stuff. My doll’s house was fabulous! I used a checker board for my flooring, (still love a checked floor) my mother’s jewelry box as an armoire, and her good Waterford crystal bowl as my pool, complete with color tinted water, that was accomplished by taking apart markers and dragging the inside material (not even sure what it is. Felt?) across the water to dye it to my color of choice. When my daughter was young and I worked at a grocery store I brought home empty cardboard cartons, which I then turned into individual Barbie rooms. Wrapping paper wallpaper, carpet sample flooring, artwork cut from magazines, and real fabric curtains. Eventually two stories high along a wall in her playroom. Barbie had quite the pad! I did stop playing long enough this afternoon to do something else for the project, a pen and ink drawing of a Day-lily. The ink sketch is what I will be posting a photo of tonight. Emily’s house is still under construction and will have its own special reveal, hopefully some day later this week. As I said, mildly amusing, the girl who can’t do math, and hates perspective, is creating an architectural doll abode. I guess even when you really don’t enjoy the process, (at least the perspective part) in the end it’s who and what the project is all about that makes all the difference. I guess you might say it puts things in “perspective” ( I know, insert cringe here).7 2

Nemesis thy name is Perspective

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The battle rages on, I lose yet another battle to my evil nemesis. I pull out my ruler, I measure the page, I measure my photograph, I make my sketch, and (silent scream inserted here) it doesn’t work! Let me make this clear, I am so not mathematical. In high school, after a disastrous freshman year, I begged Sister Joan, my algebra teacher, head of the math department, and cruel decider of my mathematical fate, to let me take basic geometry instead of regular geometry (the kind for people who can think logically). Her response? I quote, ” Your reading scores are those of a junior in college. A girl as smart as you does not need to be in basic math.” Really? Does the fact that she graded me with a “D” for all four quarters (I’m not complaining, I deserved those “D”s, I earned them) not have given her some clue? So what did I do? I skipped math sophomore year, put it off until junior year, delaying the agony for a while. Thank God for Ms. Von Laven, she of the single barrette, that hung without purpose from the front of her hair. First quarter, “D”, second quarter “F”, third quarter “D”, fourth quarter??? “D”. I didn’t deserve that last “D”, I deserved an “F”. A truly Christian woman, (as opposed to Sr. Joan) who saw my struggles, gave me a tutor, realized that even that wasn’t helping, took pity on me and let me go. I love Ms. Von Laven. Have you taken the ACT college entrance exam? Possible high score of 36. In all sections across the board I received 28’s through 31’s, except for…math, I got a 9. I retook the test because I was dying with the flu on the first attempt. The second time? I got a 7. I did better while delirious than I did in my right mind. Pathetic.

I have a book, (OK, ten books) on perspective, I really meant to read them, but I think that Sr. Joan has scarred me for life. No not really, but I am so frustrated, (I know, I need to read the books!) that I almost gave up tonight That however, is a big no-no where this blog is concerned. So here is my slightly off kilter watercolor of a window. Is it possible that my brain is off kilter?

I will try again! The war isn’t over yet.image