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Tag Archives: Visual arts

Beginning The Adoption Process

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I mentioned all the “orphans” in my studio, those half done works of art left waiting for my attention. There are also a few “finished” works. Paintings that qualify as finished only because paint covers the entire a surface of the canvas. They are pieces that I felt were not representative of the kind of artist I want to be.  One of the biggest issues, one that I have mentioned before is that the work is flat, dimensionless, lacking in texture, (can I think of any more adjectives?) work that I felt wouldn’t evoke feeling when looked at. I have seen a number of works of art in my life that make me feel, make me want to be in a place, or make me want to rush home and pick up a brush and paint. That is the kind of work I want to create, work that inspires feeling, or more than that, work that would want someone else to follow their creative dream. When I went into my studio today to decide what to do,I chose painting. I enjoyed the exercise yesterday, and my favorite critic/fan (Dan), loved the result. I wanted to use a smaller canvas, I still wasn’t sure of the subject matter, so I grabbed an 8×10 from the shelf.  It was an orphan, a finished one. A canvas that I had painted and then shoved back on the shelf to paint over. If there’s a benefit to painting too flat, it’s that it is that much easier to cover. The painting was a simple one, just a sky and water scene. It had some texture, but it was boring, no movement, nothing. Instead of covering it up I decided to give it new life by using a style similar to yesterday. I changed the color just a touch, using the paint that was still on my palette from yesterday. I didn’t take my glasses off this time, although I wasn’t working in the best light possible. I’ve posted both, a before and after. I see the difference, and better yet this time I feel a difference. It is only the first of many, many half done, or hidden works of art. Now I just need to prepare myself when I’m ready to let some of my finished work go, when I do my first show.

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Up To My Old Tricks

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When I began this blog I wrote about how shy I was as a child. There is still a lot of that inside me. I think it is why I enjoy solitude so much, and that more often than not my paintings, and photography reflect that. People who know me now are often surprised when I claim to be shy. I work really hard at being friendly. When you are a shy child, and particularly one who is the brunt of all the grade school jokes, you learn compassion. Dan knows that if we go to a party I will find the loner in the corner and stay there for the night. I cannot stand to see anyone lonely, or to sense that someone else is struggling, I need to help them. When I was in high school I was forced to take a speech class. I dreaded it. Speaking in front of a single person can be difficult enough, put me in front of a crowd and I’m terrified. At the end of the semester we were required to stand on the stage in the school auditorium and make a speech. The subject matter could be anything we wanted, the only restriction was the amount of time. For weeks leading up to it my stomach was in knots. I didn’t know how I was going to get through it. I came up with a plan. The first thing to do was to pick a subject for my speech that I was familiar with. I chose Wicca. It was an interesting choice, considering that I was at an all girl Catholic high school run by Benedictine nuns. I  had an interest in witchcraft, nothing to speak of, I think for the most part it had to do with my childhood fascination with Bewitched, and my all-time favorite movie, “The Ghost and Mrs. Muir. Fortunately, the speech teacher was a lay teacher, a man, and he didn’t seem all that upset with my choice. I knew we would be required to look up as we spoke and not check our notes too often. That part was easy, I knew my subject well. I talked off the top of my head for the entire speech. The hardest part was facing the crowd, well a crowd of about twenty-four. On the few previous occasion when I spoke in class, my classmates had to critique me. Every single time they pointed out that as I stood there choking out words the podium was shaking. The night before the speech I was really nervous, and of course like most kids, trying to figure out what disease I could possibly come up with on a moments notice so that I wouldn’t have to go to school the next day. Nothing worked and the moment was at hand. Then a brainstorm. I’ve been wearing glasses since I was thirteen. Blind as a bat. All I had to do was to take off my glasses, from the auditorium stage I couldn’t see my audience. I big blob of color. I was still nervous, and I did shake a little. The speech went well. My teacher said it was good, just a little unorganized. Not bad since I didn’t really write one.

That brings me to today’s painting. I have mentioned before that I love Impressionism. Strangely enough since I have the perfection issue. The thought occurred to me that all I need to do is to take my glasses off. Trust me, the world at large is one giant Impressionistic scene when my glasses are off, and as long as I’m going down this road I am doing my own waterlilies. A photo taken in Giverny in 2009. I have to admit I’m struggling as I look at it. I do believe I may be revisiting this one. Image Do you think it’s possible that there would have been no Impressionism if eye care were better in Monet’s day?

Following Through

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6 7 (3)I spent the day working on following through on projects that I had already begun. Part of my artistic history that I am working to change is to finish things. So much unfinished work hiding in the studio avoiding judgement. So many years that I hid behind the words “I’m not finished”. That way when anyone saw my “not good enough work”, I had an out. I no longer want and need the out. I’ve walked through art fairs, museums and paged through art magazines and seen work that I love. So much of it is simple, uncomplicated, without the kind of perfection that I expect of myself. I see color that I am in awe of, or works that evoke feeling, it’s what I want to get to in my own work. To free myself of the weight of my own expectation. To learn to just let the creativity flow and watch what happens. To stop sitting in judgement of myself and create for the sheer pleasure of it. In a few days I will reach the two month mark with this project. I am seeing and feeling a difference in my work. I have not however, learned to put my work first. I am still on many a night scrambling at the end of the day for a project. It took far too many years for me to begin this journey, and I know I can’t expect everything to change over night. I told my son not long ago that I didn’t want to be “mad” at anyone anymore. Life is too short. I think I need to take that to heart for myself, to be a little kinder to me. I also need to make myself and my work a priority.

I did more work on the Iris box. It still isn’t complete, I’m waiting for some antique stain on the top to dry. I am also experimenting with something I read about on Pinterest. It is a technique to turn regular printer paper copies of my work into canvas prints. I am posting one of a painting I did based on a very old botanical drawing. I had some success with this first one, but I tried three others that were not quite as successful. I wasted a lot of time and materials. I’m not giving up. I like the first one, so I’ll have to try again tomorrow.6 7 (16)

In Sickness And In Health

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6 4 (2)Tonight’s post will be a short one. I started antibiotics last night but right now I can barely keep my head up. Enough about that.

I so loved the effect of the wood burner on the table that I decided to play with it again today. I looked in my studio to see what was on hand and found a small wooden box that was painted white. If I remember correctly I was trying to decoupage something on it a few years ago. I did a sketch of some Irises on the lid. When I started to use the wood burner I got a different reaction to yesterday. When I burned the design in yesterday it gave the impression of inlaid Mother of Pearl. Today because there were a few layers of paint on the box, and I think maybe some Modge Podge residue, the design began to rise up on the surface. It still has a beautiful effect. I definitely want to continue down this path and experiment with the technique. I am posting a photo of the unpainted box, and then a second photo where the box has a single coat of paint on it. There is still much work to be done on it. I want to touch up some of the burn marks, as well as add more paint.  I’m not sure if I want to keep the background painted with the same pearl paint as the flowers, or if I want to doing something a little different, possibly black to make the flowers pop. I really wasn’t up to the task today, but I refuse to lay down and not create. Maybe I need a slogan like the post office…through wind and rain, and sleet and snow…I think I’m getting delirious with fever. Better things tomorrow .

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Shedding Weight

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Just 24 hours ago I was writing this blog and poking a little fun at myself. One day later and things aren’t so funny. Nothing terrible, but I have strep. I wasn’t feeling great last night, but I worked anyway. Terrible earache and sore throat. I mention how lousy I felt because despite the way I felt last night I made many plans for today. I wanted to work on Jessica’s portrait as well as my table. I didn’t get to the portrait, but every now and then I get really excited about a project, and I felt that way about the table. As I mentioned last night, with many furniture projects I can see the finished piece in my head even before I begin. However, there are those occasions where the finished piece turns out even better than I had hoped. That is definitely the case with this one. With the little bit I finished last night I could see where it was going. So, despite how I was feeling today I finished my table and I really love it.

Therein lies another issue that I am sure every artist runs into from time to time. I love it too much. It is a piece I did to sell, and it will be difficult to let it go. As you might recall the point of this entire project was to gain my identity as an artist, but also to use up the multitude of supplies I own. Art supplies aren’t the only thing I have too much of. We have two garages, one is a single, the other a two car, and they are both full, furniture, unfinished wood, canvas, and various vintage junk that I always planned to do “something” with some day. As much as I love this table it can’t stay. I feel burdened by “stuff”, and am more than ready to let go of it and a lot of the negativity that has been weighing me down not only as an artist, but also as a human being.

The table. I finished burning in the design on the other areas of the table, put on a light coat of stain, and a single coat of Modge Podge for furniture. It isn’t quite dry yet, and will definitely require another coat, but that is for tomorrow, as for now my sore throat and I are going to bed!

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Letting Go Of Perfection

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I never know from day-to-day what I am going to create, much less what I will blog about. Both projects are discovering themselves as my day goes on. I will have to be very honest here, both the art and the writing are on the top of my daily “to do” list, but both are the last things I do at the end of the day most of the time. Why? I’m still struggling with putting myself first and letting go of my duties as wife/mother. I’m still making sure the kitchen gets cleaned in the morning, and that there are meals on the table, and every other thing I can think of in between. I’m working on it, but without much success. I will continue to figure this out, and at some point (hopefully) I’ll learn to ignore that the floor needs to be swept. (Disclosure: I can’t eat at those restaurants where they have rude wait staff and peanut shells on the floor. I cannot stand rudeness, and absolutely cannot eat in a place that has a dirty floor. I don’t know why I feel the need to share this, except that maybe it lets you know me just a little better. One might think by reading that, that I am a neat freak. Far from the truth. My house is clean, very clean, well at least as clean as a house with three cats and a twenty-two year old male can be, but I’m messy. I think I mentioned that before, I mean the me being messy part, again for no particular reason…)

I brought all of the above up because I (as regular readers might know by now) am struggling with not being good enough or perfect in my art. Tonight I had a little breakthrough. I didn’t work earlier today because of anything more than it was really hot here today, and unusually humid. Hot plus humid equal lethargic for me. I just wasn’t in the mood. Not that I didn’t try. I made a few pathetic attempts at something with clay, and although I promised to put up all work, warts and all, I didn’t even come up with something I could photograph even as an attempt. So at the magic hour of seven p.m., which seems to be turning into my starting time, I began a watercolor painting. My breakthrough was that I didn’t sweat it at all. When I do a rough sketch for a painting I worry over every little detail. I measure and fuss over the drawing being just right. I didn’t measure tonight. I just sketched, and then I just painted. In a moment I had the thought that the reality is, unless I am painting a well-known monument, the people who see my work are more than likely to never see the photo I use as inspiration, or into my brain to see where ideas spring from there (God forbid!). I started out tonight feeling like I was doing homework again, but then I relaxed, I let the process and my enjoyment of it take over. The finished project, a watercolor and ink inspired by a photo I took in Carmel, California, isn’t perfect. The perspective isn’t perfect. I am not perfect, and I’m learning to be content with all of it.

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A Wonderful Day

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I had a wonderful day today. We decided to head out for a hike in Torrey Pines State Reserve this morning. It is in La Jolla, California, near San Diego. The trails run alongside the Pacific, and it is spectacular. Very inspiring to say the least. I took more than two hundred photos.  I thought about painting one of them, but I have been anxious to get back to the portrait of Jessica. I am still working on blocking in and building color. As I have mentioned before I feel like my work lacks texture, appearing very flat. The last few paintings I’ve done are better. I want to do the same with this one. I also want to take my time and build it slowly. I was pleased with the progress that I made today.  Although I did find myself adding too much paint and muddying it in the process. I have again put the painting aside for a few days. I am also working on my patience. In the past I would have rushed to finish this painting. I’m not really sure about how, or why I do that. To do the kind of work I want to do I need to learn to slow down and take my time with it.

I also did a little watercolor of a lemon, really for no other reason than I felt so inspired by our morning. I find walking so relaxing, and doing so in such a beautiful place left me feeling stress free and more than happy to get back to painting. Now if I could only live right there…5 30 5 30 2 (1) 5 30 2 (2)

Finding Solace And A Lifeline In Art

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I had intended today to return to the full figure painting of my daughter, but as usual I got side tracked. Nothing horrible, but something I had intended to follow through on years ago.  Six years ago on  July 22, my Mother died. In the horrific three weeks that she spent in ICU, I passed the time by painting and drawing. I did a series of small, 5×7 paintings that I hung around her hospital bed. All of them painted with her in mind, two of them depicted the area in Southern California where I live, both inviting her to visit when she recovered, which of course she never did. There were two others, a get well card signed by all of us, my Dad, my three sisters, all of our husbands and her eight grandchildren. The other was a vase of sunflowers. I wanted something pretty for her to see when she woke. She did wake, but had sustained a brain injury, so our Mother, as we knew her, was gone. When she passed away and we were taking her things from the hospital, my Aunt Rita asked me if she could have the painting of the sunflowers. I said I would send it to her, I never did. I had intended to mail it as soon as I got home to California from Chicago, but I couldn’t send it. It was one of the last things I did for Mom, and I hoped that on some level she knew about it. I was recently messaging with my cousin Lorna. She has been wonderfully supportive of this artistic and self-searching journey I am on, she is also Rita’s daughter. It reminded me of that painting and I told Lorna I would send it to her Mother.  Two of the other paintings are hanging in my studio, the get well card is framed at my Dad’s house. I have looked for the last several days for the sunflowers and I can’t find it. I know it was there, it has been for six years. Dan said that maybe I’m not supposed to give it away. So today instead of working on Jessica’s portrait I worked on something to send my Aunt Rita. Something pretty, something I hope she will like.

All of the above got me thinking about how often in my life I have taken refuge in my art. As I have pointed out in my earlier writing, in all the years I neglected myself I always did something creative. It has always been my lifeline. As a painfully shy child it was my companion. When my Dad has had surgery, and there have been a few open heart surgeries, I am at the hospital with my pad of paper, pencils and watercolors. I take those same items with me whenever I travel. I don’t sleep well away from home, and I will sit on the floor of a hotel bathroom, drawing in the middle of the night. When I had my last five knee surgeries (I know…you don’t have to say anything), I prepared for them by organizing my “art cart”.  A three drawer plastic cart on wheels, each drawer filled with pencils, markers, paper, paints, and whatever else I can think of, all to fill my recovery time. Propped up on the couch, painkillers and ice close at hand, I ask my family to wheel over my supplies. I am never bored when I have something to create with, and I can create with just about anything.  When my Mother died I came back to California and made a small piece of art dedicated to her. For me art is so much more than what you see on the paper, on the canvas, in the photo, or the sculpture. It is my lifesaver, my friend, my rock, my comfort. I am only sorry that it has taken me so long to appreciate the gift I have been given. And sorry too that it has taken me six years to fulfill a promise.

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A Short Note

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Early post tonight. I actually did two small projects this morning, and then spent a lovely Memorial Day…cleaning the garage for six hours. I actually had planned to do something else, but quite frankly I’m exhausted.

The first project is another artist card size drawing of an apple. It was a simple drawing exercise I gave myself to do. I need to work on shading and perspective. The other is also an artist card size, but for an entirely different project. I have for years been making fairies. I’ve sold hundreds of them, usually around Christmas. I have decided to continue doing so this year, but have some ideas for making them even more artistic. I designed some wings which I plan to print on vellum. Once I have a finished fairy I’ll put up a photo.

No philosophizing about my artistic life tonight, no “woe is me”, just a very tired woman who needs to relax.

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Gaining Vision

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Sound the alarm! I actually read one of the many, many, many art instruction books that I own (Well not the whole thing, just the part I had a question about). I did that because I also returned to the full figure painting of my daughter that I began several weeks ago. The same one I have been avoiding like the plague. I really liked the way the initial sketch was looking on the canvas. I also for the first time with a painting have a vision of what I hope the painting will look like when I am finished. That is a giant leap for me. For years I complained that I couldn’t get what was in my head onto the canvas. I really think my mind was so bogged down with all the nonsense of not being good enough. I really feel like my artistic vision is developing. I’m not going to post the painting yet. All I did today was some color blocking, and honestly it looks a little creepy at the moment. It actually looks like a portrait of one of the kids from Village Of The Damned. But proportionately it looks good, and I can see my daughter’s face emerging. I still wanted to have a piece of art to post this evening so I played around with my watercolors. A photo of my garden provided inspiration. It’s a little abstract, but I love the color, and I enjoyed painting it. I did it just for fun, which was actually quite nice. I really feel like I’m moving ahead. I’m not getting as stressed about what I’m working on. One of the benefits of working every day I guess. When I started this blog I used words like pressure and homework. I will admit that there are days when I have fleeting moments of wishing I hadn’t gotten myself into this, but they don’t last long. I think this blog and its accompanying artwork is one of the best things I have ever done for myself. It’s about time.Image