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The Art Of Simplicity

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I think I have spent years complicating my artistic process. When you focus on what you can’t do I think it tends to color what you can do. I have now spent forty days on my project. When I started I was focused on this idea of using up all of the materials I had filled my studio with over the years. I don’t think I really thought about the commitment to the work, or how it might affect me, and it has. Over the course of the last twenty years I have started far more projects than I’ve finished. Drawings, painting, even silly craft projects, where something didn’t look right, or I would make a mistake, or more likely, I would decide that whatever it was, it wasn’t good enough, and then the project was scrapped. Even now if I were to clean out the studio, and our garages, there would be a lot of half done paintings, pieces of wood, etc.. I had given up on myself and it is reflected in every unfinished project. What has happened to me in the last forty days is a transformation. I kept my promise to myself, and that’s a big accomplishment. I have produced more than fifty pieces of art in that time. Not every piece is something I love, or even like. But what is important, the biggest accomplishment is that in the process of creating those pieces I struggled with several, and didn’t stop.There were a couple that I was ready to quit, but I didn’t, I stuck it out. Some of those turned out to be some of the best work that I have created since I started this. I believe that forcing myself to confront this mental ball and chain I been dragging along has done great things for me.  My thought process is changing. The thoughts of what I can’t do are straying further and further from my mind. That is because I have forty days of “can do” looking me in the face. When you start something and you are already defeated, you have lost before you have begun. I have a quote on a magnet, I think it is Eleanor Roosevelt, but it states, “Do something everyday that scares you”. I bought it a few years ago when I was in another of the endless “new starts” that I promised myself. Sort of like all the diets that start next Monday, and  trust me I am very familiar with that one. The magnet has been sitting on my drawing table, and I have looked at it so often and thought, “It’s time”. I didn’t do it. I was afraid. Of what? Failure, maybe finding out that after all of the years of “what if?” I might discover that even if I had taken those art lessons I felt cheated out of, I still wouldn’t have been the artist I wanted to be. I am doing something every day, but guess what? I’m not afraid anymore. A little uncertain, yes. A little lost, yes. But things are getting better with every day, with every project. It’s simple. One project, one day at a time.

Two motivations behind tonight’s project. The first is that I am still trying to fulfill the object of the project. I bought a couple of mat boards at Blick last year simply because I liked that the size of the opening was different, it is long and rectangular. So when I went upstairs to see what I would do today I came across them and decided that whatever I did tonight needed to fit in that opening. The second motivation is that Dan likes pen and ink drawings. So for tonight a “simple” pen and ink.IMG_9705

Putting Life In Perspective

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I finished my project for today in the late afternoon. I hadn’t taken the time to post either the drawing, nor the accompanying text until now. Just yesterday I had spoken to Dan about the tone of this blog. I feared it was becoming a little “woe is me”, and quite frankly I have no tolerance for whining. I told him I was planning to expand a little on my personal history, and despite my complaints here of feeling as though my artistic gifts were sorely under appreciated (because it’s true),  all of my history and the people in it, make me who I am. That was the plan, and it seems that with this blog the plans I make the day before are rarely the things that happen.

This morning the line of a poem came to my mind. I haven’t said so here before, but I also like to write, and have done so for years. New plan! I was going to take the line, which by mid-morning had become several lines, and write it all down, and then my intention was to in some way illustrate either by paint or pencil the thoughts I was having. I even had some idea of what it should look like in my head, but then I came downstairs and looked at a drawing that I began yesterday. It is of the niece of one of the dearest friends I have ever had. She is four, and in her short history, (which I will not share) she has had much loss and sadness. I put aside the brilliant epiphany of my poem and began to  finish her portrait.  As I sat here this afternoon working, the news of the tornado in Oklahoma appeared in the news feed on Dan’s phone. We turned on the television in time to see the devastated school. In the course of less than a single day the some of what I feel, the self-pity, the feeling of being inadequate, the chip on my shoulder, seem petty.  Sure, I’m entitled to my own human struggles, everyone is. No ones pain is any less than that of another, because pain, its causes, and its individual effects are just that, individual. But when I look at the face of this beautiful child, her history, her future, and the futures that so many children won’t have, I see my struggles in a different perspective. It doesn’t mean I won’t continue to look at the whys and hows of who I am. It just means that maybe I won’t be so hard on myself. That I will continue to grow as an artist, and in the process become a better, and more whole human being.

A little note about my materials. I worked in a grocery store for more years than I care to think of. It was then that I began to draw on the blank side of the bags. I love the look of chalk on brown paper.

So here is Emily, in pastel chalk and pencil.IMG_9710

Still Moving Slow

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IMG_9719Still a little under the weather, so I just did a small still life sketch with colored pencil.  I struggled a little as always with perspective, but I feel like it’s getting better.  I think maybe a need a day of just doing a lot of sketching, nothing precise, but just some free form sketching.  I’m still a little timid and uptight in my drawing. Amongst the piles of stuff in my studio are giant sketchbooks that belonged to my kids from their school days. I think I need to make it my mission this week to just grab a piece of charcoal and fill one of them. I also need to get back to the painting that I started. It has been dry to the touch for more than a week. I had planned to get back to it ASAP, but I have been allowing other projects to get in the way. If I’m going to be honest with myself I think I’ve been avoiding it.  It will be my first full figure painting, but again, time to face those fears head on! 

Here Comes The Bride

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Tonight I’m really happy with myself. I spent the day working on two completely different projects, one which I enjoyed, the other not so much. I read on Pinterest how to make a homemade canvas print. It didn’t work on the first try, but that was because I rushed it, the second version came out really good with one exception, I cut the photo just a hint too narrow. The sides get painted black which cures all ills as far as I’m concerned. I didn’t photograph it yet, and I’m tired so I’ll post it tomorrow.

The other project was a crafty sort of thing, which I really don’t do much of, but it still came out well.

After all of that and cooking dinner, it was as usual  late when I started my project. Once I actually got my supplies together and did the basic sketch it was after eight. I once again attempted something I haven’t done before, a watercolor portrait. Earlier in the day I was looking at the photos of my daughter’s recent wedding. I came across more than a few that I loved, but one really stood out. I loved it so much that I decided to draw it, but once I sat down tonight I thought I’d really like to paint it. Because I am the queen of instant gratification I chose watercolor. I knew I wasn’t exactly sure how to do it, but dove in. It’s funny that as often as I talk about the “not good enough” that lives in my brain, I sometimes forget that and forge ahead, and that is always a good thing. I am very happy to say that I think the results are really good. Most especially because I did the painting in about an hour and a half while watching television, in my lap, and with horrible lighting, and it was my first. I think the practice in both technique and confidence are starting to pay off. Here is my beautiful daughter, Jessica.Image

Leaving Well Enough Alone

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So tonight I have a really, really , really small piece of art to post. Worse than that, it was a pathetic desperate excuse for a piece of art work for my blog. I’m tired (I know, again, but if you haven’t figured out that I’m just a little older….) anyway, I did work on art today, I worked for hours bent over a project in the yard. I could show you what I did, but you’ve seen it before, several days ago in fact. It is a table top based on a vintage powder can that I own. All it needed was a few touch ups, but then the perfectionist in me took over.  (I’m sort of like Sybil. Who? A woman with sixteen personalities, that’s who. I have several myself, in no particular order, perfectionist, control freak, insecure, and timid to name a few). I’m back! As I was saying, I started doing the touch ups, but then I wasn’t happy with the background color, then the shade of black, the lines were too wide, her forehead to big….insert silent scream here…I pretty much ended up repainting the whole thing. Dan asked about it. He thought I was done, I was done, but apparently not done enough. The biggest issue is time. (Actually the biggest issue is me.) Like most artists, I figure I can never get paid for most of my time. When pricing something to sell you figure in materials, but how do you price time and talent? This table is something I intended to sell. I have now put in more hours than I care to think about. It was fine, everyone liked it, I liked it, but “not good enough” keeps finding the key to my psyche and letting himself in to undermine my efforts.  I need to lock him up and throw away the key, it costs me way too much to have “not good enough” on the loose.

ImageImage

OK, so here is the table once again. See any difference from the last time? I didn’t think so. Well maybe just a little.       Here is also my “Artist” card, I know…See you tomorrow

Riley

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It’s late, nine here in California, and I again find myself putting my project off until the end of my day. Today it had nothing to do with avoiding the project at hand, but because it was a hard day for us here. Issues beyond our control came to a head. It was a long emotional day, one that I will be glad to have over.

I grabbed my sketchbook tonight, as always not sure what my subject might be. I started a drawing of some flowers, but I chose the wrong paper for the pencils that I was using and couldn’t achieve the correct amount of blending. Therein  lies the biggest issue I have with not having had lessons. Materials are foreign to me. I still have a painting that I completed in my early twenties. It is large and a little abstract. I gave it to a boyfriend. His friend who also painted was curious as to why the background of my painting, which was entirely black, was painted using both matte and glossy paint. Matte? Glossy? I had no idea that paint for art came in different finishes. I was of course familiar with the terms, my dad was a house painter, but for art? I thought black was black. I know of course I could read books, and believe me I have more than a few, or I could take a class. Classes don’t work for me either, too judgmental. I did take a stab at art in college. My first fine art class was a drawing class. Within days I felt out-of-place. Remember I started drawing around the age of five. There I was at eighteen with thirteen years of bad habits that I had obtained, at least as far as the teacher was concerned. But I liked how I did things, and as I pointed out to her after she told me I had to use the oval with the lines to draw portraits, my portraits were better than hers. Mine actually looked like the people they were meant to look like. I dropped the class. (Long story to make a small point. I seem to do that a lot.) By seven-thirty or so I was gaining that familiar feeling of frustration. I decided to look on my computer to see what I had photos of to inspire me. I came across my file of photos of our cats. Spouncer (who sadly passed away, but was named after an art tool), Riley, Mia and Sophie. I decided on a photo of Riley. I used a combination of the photo and real life model, who unfortunately was more interested in swatting my pencil away. So here is Riley. I don’t  do much in the way of drawing animals, but I’m happy with these results.

OK, so I know this is getting long-winded, but it reminded me of a painting I did as a teenager. A very nice man I worked with asked me to paint a portrait of his poodle as a gift for his wife. I didn’t really want to do it but it was a job. I had just finished the painting, it was oil, when I knocked it off the easel onto the floor. My bedroom floor that was covered in carpet. There were fibers stuck to the paint everywhere. I could have cried, but just blended it into the paint. He loved the painting. In particular the “texture” I had given to his beloved dog. He paid me more than I asked.

My mother was not so happy, how could she possibly fail to see the value of sacrificing the carpet for my art?

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Jigsaw Puzzle Art

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Like the title of today’s blog? I called it that because that is what I feel like I produced yesterday. I decided to go with oils, and also to try something new. Many of my paintings appear flat to me. Again, without lessons I’m not really sure if I do things the way they should be done. I did a small 9×12 painting based on a photograph I took in central California farm country. I am very drawn to old barns, abandoned buildings, old doors and windows, essentially anything that looks lonely, speaks of solitude, and seem left behind. I haven’t mentioned it before but I am also quite a good photographer. My photography is much the same, lonely; there are never people in my photographs. I was a very shy child and sometimes quite lonely. Alone is a place I’m comfortable in. (I’m sure at this point arm-chair psychologists eyebrows are raised.)…back to my painting saga…

I tried to use a palette knife to lay the paint on thickly. My knife was too big for the small canvas, so it quickly became a mucky mess. I scraped it off and tried again. Same issue. At that point I was feeling defeated, I felt like things just weren’t going to go right. My artistic mojo had abandoned me. I almost gave up, but the blog was calling. I kept thinking that I had to do something. My “not good enough” voice was whispering in my ear, “You have other work you can use.” Do you think it’s possible to get Catholic guilt from a blog? I believe it is, because I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t use an old painting, or another piece of art, I couldn’t break my promise to myself. I told my “not good enough” voice to shut up, and I tried again. This time I used a small brush and dabbed the paint on the canvas thickly. It seemed to be working; at least the piece had texture. My husband came in the room and said he liked what I was doing. That gave me the confidence to continue. All in all it took about two hours. When I was finished my husband said he loved it, me not too much. There are particular areas that I like very much, where the paint has a vibrancy that I love, but quite frankly, in the end I don’t like it very much. I wrestled once again with the thought of not posting it, but this blog is about discovering who I am as an artist, so I guess that means warts and all. Even if I think it’s garbage, it will be here. Things will get better, of that I am sure. I have not consistently produced art or painted in years. So I have decided to give myself a break and tell “not good enough” to shut up more often, maybe at some point it may go away.

Oh, the title of today’s blog? When I looked at the painting and told my husband I didn’t like it he said, “I love it”. To which I replied,”You know what it looks like? It looks like one of those awful paintings they turn into a jigsaw puzzle.”

Anyone need a thousand pieces?Image

Deadlines!

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Long day yesterday. We spent the day doing our taxes which I can tell you doesn’t inspire much in the way of creativity. We didn’t finish until after six last night. I threw together a quick dinner, which for me means spaghetti carbonara, and then hoped to relax for the evening. As I ate dinner, I repeatedly told my husband that I needed to do something for this project. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do, but I honestly feel so compelled to follow through on this that I couldn’t let it go. I looked around in my studio to see what I had at hand that would be quick. Feeling the “night before homework is due” pressure, figuring out what I could “hand in”. I didn’t want to do another watercolor, I didn’t want to do another small artist card just to get something done. I decided I was going to draw something. As an artist my biggest downfall is perspective. With never having had art lessons I don’t have many of the fundamental skills. Actually it contributes to another huge issue for me, the need for things to look like they are meant to look. As if I am a Kinkos copy machine. When I paint or draw I criticize myself horribly for it. I know, ridiculous right? I like other people’s work that isn’t “perfect”, so why do I expect that of myself? At this point I think I don’t have a chip on my shoulder but a rather large boulder. So after that long therapeutic rant, I will finish my story. I grabbed a couple of photos that were taped up in the studio, figuring I would draw one of them. I sat in my family room trying to draw but it just wasn’t coming. By this time it is after eight. I flipped through a few magazines, tried another drawing and again nothing. I told my husband that I was going to draw him. I have little to no experience in figure drawing so I thought I would at least try. The thing is when you want someone to model for you it is probably a good idea to tell them not to move. I didn’t, he did, and the drawing was finished before it got anywhere. Again I looked around for something, anything to fulfill my commitment. Behind me on a shelf was a photograph of my grandmother, Florence. I love faces, to look at, to study, and to draw. Florence became my project. I drew for roughly an hour, thought I was done, but then this morning I got up and looked at her, and decided she deserved better. Another hour or two this morning and I think she is done. I may revisit after my eyes uncross, but I’m happy with the results for now. Somehow I managed to reach both my deadlines yesterday, amazing! Art and taxes!Nana 1 (2)

The First Date is Over

You know that feeling when you are going out with someone for the first time? You feel all nervous but excited at the prospect of what could be coming your way. That’s how I felt about yesterday. I was terrified of heading into this project, but at the same time excited about finally forcing my own hand (literally!) I spent time creating the page that would explain it all, I jumped head first into a few paintings, I told just about everyone what I was going to do. I got great feedback, mostly on my Facebook page. I had hoped, and still do, that my family and friends might offer feedback right here on the blog. (Hint inserted here.) I did get one wonderful comment that brought a smile to my face, and was excited to see people following my page.

By last night fear began to creep in. The excitement of the first date over, the did fear of, “Did he like me, is he going to call?” nonsense started. Yesterday was a pretty stressful day. Some issues relating to other parts of our life were causing upset to both my husband and I. We had a good day despite the stress, but I, as always, internalized the situation.  I find it difficult to be creative when I’m upset. The whole suffering for your art thing never made sense to me. I believe that in giving birth naturally to two eight pound plus babies, and having had six knee surgeries (Again, good with the hands, not so good with the feet.) I have suffered more than enough for my art and that of everyone else too. I am happy when I create. As the day wore on the weight of what I had done to myself was crashing down on me. I had committed to the world that I was going to produce one piece of art EVERY day. I pulled out my watercolors and painted. I didn’t just produce one painting, I did three. Two are artist card size. For those of you not familiar with the Artist Trading Card movement Google it.( Worth reading about and trying to do yourself if you’ve been hiding your own creative desires.) The size is similar to a wallet size. Two and a half, by three and a half in size, it can be anything, made any way as long as the size is right. I find it an easy way to do a quick piece of art, especially when I promised to do some! I will publicly admit right now that all three are falling into the “not good enough” category in my head. I am posting the three of them because I said I would, and I always keep my promises. So that being said and my excitement diminished, here are three pieces of work. Not my best, but not my worst, and at least I did it!

April 14 (1)

April 14 (2)April 14 (4)