Evolution

Hamburger - unfinished
1 of 4 in a collection tentatively named
No Calorie Fast Food

Sometimes it looks like my evolution as a painter will take as long as the Darwin type of evolution.  My "studio" sits in the corner of the room meant to be the living room of this house.  However, I've commandeered it and made it into my office, painting studio, jewelry studio, music room (with the recent gift of a piano) and even bedroom.  These days my art table serves as a "nightstand" where I lay my cell phone each night while it recharges.

My finished paintings surround me in this room like my children.  I look at them and wonder at them.  Like Erkel of Family Matters, I ask, "Did I do that?"  I look at prolific painters' works online and wonder how they do it.  How do they produce painting after painting each one amazing and in great enough numbers to support themselves and, in many cases, a company comprised of many others who work to advance their work product?

I look at my art corner every day when I wake up and vow I will spend some time there that day.  Then, that night, I lie down and wistfully look at my paint brushes and paints, sighing as I roll away from them and go to sleep.

My loved ones and I were so amazed when I started painting about 10 years ago.  In the beginning, there came a point where I knew I had to have an easel to paint on.  Until then I had been painting with the support lying on my art table.  One day soon after I got my easel, I was sitting at it painting something and Armando, my husband of over 20 years, stepped into the room.  I still felt very shy about painting in front of other people as I was still getting used to the idea I could even do this.  He paused just inside the doorway and I looked up at him.  I know we had the very same thought which was that after 20 years together, when you think you really know someone, here was a scenario that neither of us had ever imagined--me sitting at an easel painting a picture.  As has been so common down through my years with him, we connected on this thought without saying a word and, then, we had a good laugh.  The Grateful Dead lyrics, once again, were very appropriate, "What a long, strange trip it's been."

So, here I am another 8 to 10 years down this path.  I basically believe we make time for what's important, ergo, there's no excuse for not doing what one claims to want to do.  I find myself, "wanting" to paint but not finding the time or spirit to do so.

Then, yesterday afternoon, I finished up my paying job at the computer with the last project expected by a client on its way via email and I turned toward my art corner.  After months of staring at the black and white checkerboard design on this canvas and failed attempts to replicate a hamburger thereon, I sat down for less than 15 minutes and got done what you see above.  It's almost as magical as that childhood story where the elves come into the cobbler's shop at night and make the shoes.  All evening, I kept returning to my art table unable to believe that I had made such progress and wondered how to make it happen again.

So, I thought I would record this for posterity.  That's why I blog here and on Stream of Consciousness, for posterity.  Someday my children or grandchildren or great grandchildren might wonder about me and in these two venues, I will have recorded myself for them to get a glimpse of.  Pretty cool.

Anyway, I decided to make this entry because I'm convinced that this painter is still alive and kicking somewhere in here and I take heart that all those paintings still rattling around in my head might actually find their way onto canvases.  We can only hope.

Recycle, Reuse, Rejoice

So, the reality of earning a living encroached on my life this week and I had to spend more time typing than creating.  However, I got some behind-the-scenes work done for my “studio”.  I’m kind of proud of this effort because it involves recycling and reusing.  I’m feeling a little green this morning which is a good thing these days.  It used to mean inexperienced or queasy as in “green around the gills”.  But now it means we are smarter about extending the life of what would normally be trash.

As I collected the paint over the past decade, I usually used this type of storage for the tubes.  Of course, this led to rummaging around in the bag, coming up with the wrong color (many times the very same tube) several times before getting what was needed.

My current favorite brand of paint is Golden Open acrylics.  When ordered from Dick Blick they come in boxes of three tubes.  In an effort to be better organized, I printed out the color chart from the Golden Web site and organized the tubes of paint according to the order on the color chart—three tubes to a box with the corresponding color chart samples taped to the box.  Then I dug out an old portable file box and put the paint tube boxes in the case, thusly.

However, I needed a way to keep the tubes of paint being used on the current project more available for easier access and more organized than just lying about on my artist table.  I pondered possible scenarios.  As any inventor knows, ideas come from the simplest things when one least expects them.  As I emptied a roll of paper towels and was throwing the cardboard core away, I realized that my tubes of paint would fit nicely in those cardboard cylinders.  I decided I would cut the paper towel cores down and stand them on end in some sort of container that could sit on my table while I worked.  I made a mental note to look for such a container the next time I went to the 99¢ store.

Then, I saw the collapsed cardboard box peeking from behind the storage cabinet in my office.  When I order something online, instead of throwing the cardboard box away, I collapse it and put it behind this cabinet.  The box that was peeking out was just the right depth to hold the cut-down paper towel cores.  I cut the paper towel cores in thirds about 3½ inches each segment.  This pic shows the box which I turned inside out.  After reconstituting the box, I turned the lid flaps to the inside of the box and tucked them firmly in so that I would have a sturdy box with an open top.

Then I took 8-inch strips of packing tape and placed a segment of the paper towel core in the middle of the strip.  One-by-one, I taped them inside the box, as you can see here.  This provided a sturdy construction so that I could pull a tube of paint out of the box and replace it with everything else staying in place.

Yeah, I’m not Edison or a Wright brother or Marconi, but I’m pretty proud of my little effort to recycle and reuse.  As we continue to empty paper towels rolls, I plan to have two such boxes to hold the tubes of paint for easy access. 

 

Now, today I WILL paint!

Practice Makes Perfect

So, here’s the drill.  I want to do a series of four paintings using a black and white checkerboard pattern as the background.  At least, that’s the plan right now.  Sometimes things change.  Anyway, as it stands now, I want to develop a dependable way to paint a neat and accurate checkerboard pattern on the canvas.  My previous post showed my first attempt at creating this pattern using masking tape. 

The paintings in this series are going to be small and square so I found this scrap canvas to help me perfect my technique.  Here’s a shot of the first round of masking off the canvas to do the first set of squares.  This step alone gave me a valuable piece of information.  On my final paintings, I will want to use a square canvas with an odd number of inches.  As you can see, this 6-inch square canvas won’t have the same color block in each corner and, for my purposes, that would be desirable. 

This is the first set of squares.  To improve on my attempt from yesterday, I didn’t mix as much water into the acrylic paint.  In all cases, by the way, I’m mixing my own black using dioxazine purple, burnt sienna, ultramarine blue, and sap green.  Mixing my own black instead of using black from a tube gives a “softer” black that won’t be as stark against the opposing white blocks and should serve the primary image in the painting better because it will compliment rather than compete with the various colors in the subject of the painting.

 

Here’s a close-up of the first set of squares.  Oops, still kind of sloppy there.  As much as I burnished the edges of the masking tape to create a seal against paint leakage, the paint still crept under the edge of the tape.  Not pretty!

Here’s the scrap canvas with the second set of squares in place.  The first and third rows from the top of the canvas were painted in the first set.  The second and fourth rows were painted in the second set of squares.  When I do the actual paintings, I’ll describe the masking process in more detail.  Suffice it to say, the changes made in the technique of applying the paint for the second set of squares made all the difference.  For the second set of squares I placed my brush on the masking tape outside the square and dragged it toward the center of the square being painted.  I never dragged the brush from inside the square out onto the masking tape.  Also, I used nothing but paint.  After initially wetting my brush and blotting it on a paper towel, I mixed my black paint as described above without adding any water to the mixture.  That kept the paint from thinning and being able to escape its allotted square by seeping under the edge of the masking tape.

I’m happy with the second set of squares.  When I start the real painting, I’ll use the technique I used to paint them.  As well, I’ll go buy some 7" square gallery wrapped canvases instead of using the 6" canvases I thought I wanted.  That will place a black block in each corner and better balance the background.  Also, I believe I’ll apply an initial coat of white paint or gesso to the primed canvas to make the surface a little smoother and make a better seal between the canvas and the tape.

Well, next I’ll begin experimenting with mixing the colors to be used for the subjects of these paintings.  I hope I can make them look realistic enough.  I want to move away from abstract and cartoonish towards realism but I’m not to the extreme of photo realism.  We’ll see.  Thanks for your time.  Happy creating! 

We've Got Paint on Canvas

Yep, I actually sat down yesterday and began a project.  I'm in denial when it comes to the fact that I'm going to have to practice my artistry to improve.  I've read countless books and articles in magazines and online.  I've watched countless hours of instructional video.  Now, I want that to translate into a magical experience wherein I sit down to my easel, pick up my brush and begin to paint awesome paintings without really practicing.  I'm too old to practice.  Time is of the essence here at the threshold of my 60s.  But here's where I start "practicing" what I preach about following the path and being patient with the process.

So, I take heart in the fact that the "studio" corner of my room is taking shape and I actually started a study for four small paintings which have been rattling around in my brain for a while.  I feel very brave just for putting my effort out there.  This was a scrap canvas that I'm using to experiment with making a checkerboard pattern to serve as a backdrop for this series of paintings.  This was my first attempt using masking tape to help create crisp lines.  As you can see, I didn't quite reach my goal but I'm going to use this to experiment further with the colors in the items that will be painted against this background and I'm going to play with shading on this practice piece to make the little squares look like tiles.  Wish me luck!  Later...

Organization

Well, here's my art table in its new location. I spent yesterday working to reorganize my space. I'm working towards bringing all my endeavors into the same room. So, the large living room of this house has become "my" room with everything but my sewing machines. Hopefully, those will be in place by the end of this week, although that's really been an unrealized goal for a while already. Anyhow, I got another corner of the room cleared out and organized although to look at my art table, you wouldn't believe me. Now, I just have the huge gray metal storage cabinet, vintage office furniture from the 1970s, I'll wager, and the closet in the room. Since I moved into this house 17 years ago, this living room closet has been my hobby closet but now that I've converted this room into my bedroom/everything room, I need that closet space for clothing. So, that closet is on the list for cleaning out.

But I take great pride in the fact that I'm slowly, inch by inch, clearing out clutter. You see, throughout my adult life, I never lived in a house longer than six years at a time before moving on.  The good thing about that is that moving is the perfect time to purge one's belongings.  Well, we're beginning our 18th year in this house and that's three times as long as the average.  So, I guess that means I've got three times the clutter build up and I'm even beginning to feel overwhelmed by the mess.  You know it's bad if it's bothering me because clutter doesn't get to me as quickly as to some.

My efforts to clear my space remind me of a comic strip I saw years ago.  "For Better or Worse" was about a family with two or three kids and a dog.  In this particular installment, the mother is standing in the hallway, leaning against a door jamb, looking at her linen closet which is full of neatly stacked towels and other linens.  in the next couple of frames you see the rest of the house where the kids and the dog are wreaking havoc.  In the last frame, the kids are gathered a few feet away from the mom and one of the kids is saying, "I wonder why Mom keeps going back and looking at that closet."  That's kind of how I feel.  When I look at all I still have to do, I go to the corner of the room where I began the process and admire how neatly my canvases are organized, by size, leaning up against the wall.

'Til next time!

The Story of the Sweet Potato Vine Sketch

When I was five or six years old, I drew a portrait of someone who was very important in my life. I can remember sitting in my yard looking over my handiwork and being so proud at the likeness of this person who was so very special to me. Feeling very satisfied that I had truly captured this person in #2 pencil on manilla paper, I went in search of this person knowing for sure that I would provoke great pleasure when he/she looked upon my beautifully rendered homage. If you remember manilla paper and admit it, then, you’ve dated yourself for sure J.

Now, one thing I should mention is that this person had a cosmetic blemish (a mole) on the face that has since been removed. In my childish naïveté, I didn’t understand the diplomacy of ignoring blemishes of this sort and I hadn't yet learned the concept of artistic license. In my artistic quest to render a true resemblance, I had included this in my drawing since it was, after all, really there.

When I approached my unwitting subject and displayed my masterpiece, the first thing this person saw was the mole on the sketch. While other comments may have been made prior to or after the comments on the mole, I don’t remember anything but being told that I wasn’t properly sensitive to the feelings of others by including such a blemish in my drawing.

As sometimes happens, I poured my soul into this endeavor thinking I would be met with nothing but praise and, yet, all I remembered from the encounter was the realization that I had provoked negative feelings in the very person who I was trying to uplift. Oh, well… Of course, as a small child, I couldn’t sort out what had happened to explain it away. So, I just quit drawing.

Forty some-odd years later, I picked up a pencil and a piece of paper to see if I could draw a simple snow-covered roofline to serve as the basis of a Christmas card design I was working on. None of the clipart I could find was exactly what I needed. So, I decided to try my hand at it. In those intervening years, I had rarely, if ever, put pencil to paper to draw anything. So, I was quite surprised that I was able to sketch the roof as simple a design as it was.

A few more years passed and by now I had begun my artistic journey. I decided that one purpose of my art would be to record images of my childhood that were not captured on film that I want to leave for my children. One such memory was a Ball jar sitting on the sun-splashed window sill in Grandma Hazel’s kitchen with a sweet potato vine growing in it. I hadn’t developed the faith yet to get an art table, so, I sat down at my kitchen table and began to draw from memory that little vignette of my childhood.

While I was drawing, one of my teenage daughters came into the kitchen and found me sitting there bent over my paper, drawing and erasing, drawing and erasing. I looked up and smiled at her as she stood watching over my shoulder. I was just about done when she walked in. So, as I put the finishing touches on the sketch, I held it up for her observation.

“What do you think?” I asked.

With a tentative note in her voice, she said, “It looks like a potato.”

“Great!” I exclaimed. “That’s what it is!”

She then laughed out loud with relief. “Really? Because I was just standing here trying to figure out what you were drawing and whether or not I should tell you that it looked like a potato without hurting your feelings.”

What's that saying...

Three's the charm? Well, I don't want to know how many times I've tried to get this blogging thing going but that number just grew by one.

I had a cool experience today and thought I’d like to share. I felt like taking a break from my “real” job of home-based typing and looking at some images on the Internet to serve as resource images. Of course, it's not like I need any resource images. I have real folders in file cabinets and e-folders on my computer chucked full of resource images. I couldn’t paint them all in multiple lifetimes. Looking at images is just so inspiring though.

Today as I began to look through the images for “windows”, I realized that I had been collecting my images in the wrong way from the very beginning. I would see a nice photograph and think, “Oh, that would make a nice painting.” So, it went into a folder marked “windows”. Today as I looked through the Web site of photographs, I began to think of the components of the image. Instead of “flowers”, “children”, “doors”, etc., I also had folders marked “studies in perspective (architectural)”, “studies in texture”, “odd”, the last category being for images with unusual perspective.

When looking through the images today, I looked to find half a dozen images that would challenge my experience at this point but would teach me a lot if I were to be able to achieve the desired effect, whether it dealt with perspective or texture or whatever.

As I continued to cruise the Internet, guilt began to set in because I needed to do my “real” work. Each time I thought “one more screen”, I would reach the end of that screen and give myself permission to go for just “one more screen.” Then, I came across what I knew I had been looking for without really knowing it. It was a picture of a bottle sitting in the corner of a window sill.

One of my first sketches when I began this journey 10 years ago was of a memory of a sweet potato or yam vine growing in a Ball jar on the window sill in my grandmother Hazel’s kitchen. I’ll share the funny story associated with that sketch in another blog. Don’t let me forget. Anyway, in my Internet meanderings today, I found a wonderful image of a Ball jar serving as a flower vase and then this image of the bottle/jar sitting in the corner of the window sill. That was my cool experience. So, I’ll take that as a sign that I need to get on with that painting.

I’ll keep posting, good Lord willin’ and the creek don’t rise.