Friend...a tribute....Jo McGarvey

Jo   Oil/Canvas   20 x 10 x 1.5

I believe that it was Andrew Wyeth who said that one can create from love or from hate.  It is indeed strong emotional content that makes for a good painting.  Creating from passion.  For me, anything in between just won't do.  In this case, my painting of Jo is a tribute in love for the friendship that has lasted for ever-so-many years.  Our families were fast friends.  We each had 3 boys who were stair-stepped in ages.  We holiday-ed together.  We played together.  We shared each others'  traumas as well as the triumphs in-between.  And....we cooked together.  Lots of hungry boys.  Lots of cooking.  Our paths have paralleled throughout the years and created braids of time....with some times away from and some times the returning-towards.  But the foundation is always there.  Jo is an accomplished woman and a strong woman.  We seem to be able to read each others' minds at times....the knowing that that is intuitive and yin.  And, so, this portrait is, for me, greater than the sum of its parts.  It is a tribute.  Merry Christmas, my friend.

Jo - Session 3

When I approached this painting for session 3, I was fairly certain that it would be my last.  My goals were:

* add the necklace

* add hard edges to restate my chosen rhythm around the canvas; and, if necessary, soften others

* adjust the color temperature where necessary; i.e. warming sleeve-tops of the coat.  I will admit, that I like pushing the envelope a bit away from reality and towards more exciting. 

* add highlights....for this, I used a cooled-down white using just a smudge of phthalo turquoise which is in the background and part of my original limited palette

* MOST IMPORTANTLY, I tried to avoid re-stroking areas with which I was pleased.  It serves no intent at all.  I can live with slight errors in draftspersonship more than ill-painted passages.  That is my priority. 

I am satisfied.

Jo - Session 2

Jo   Session 2

First off, my apologies for a really lousy photo.  I was impatient.  The natural light in my studio was next to nothing...a really gray day.  Shutter stayed open for way too long.  The painting has moved on since this photo....no chance for a re-do.  Anyways, session 2 was about 3-4 hours.  Because of the 3-4 day lapse since the first session, I was assured that my original strokes were solid.  My goals were simply to come in for more detail in particular junctures; to assess and correct color; and to establish viable rhythms in the work.  All the while, I try to avoid painting over passages that were exciting to me from the first session.  Things happened easily in this work which is not always the case.  I was very satisfied with the underplayed countenance.  The background color went to a darker turquoise, almost teal.  A good painting day.

Demonstration

Every now and then I agree to do a painting demonstration.  In this case, it was part of a group of Saturday art demonstrations at Summit Artspace as part of the Kaleidoscope 2011 exhibition.  My friend Jo agreed to model.  Demonstrations are difficult to do....mostly due to the fact that my intuitive painting process (done in solitude) is broken by talking and questioning.  I can actually feel the chaos that builds between my L- and R-brain as a result.  I find that my choices are not always the best in this situation.  Because Jo has been a friend for so very many years, I was at least acquainted with a color palette that I deemed to be her own.  I asked her to wear a coat that personifies her personality and has been her mainstay for a while.  So....the pose, the colors and the atmosphere of communion were her contributions.  She seemed at ease.  Her face was comfortable and giving, which I attribute to the fact that she is an actress and seemed to know just what it was that I wanted.  My own goals for the day were to relax and to make juicy, broad and expressive strokes on the canvas that broadly interpreted what I was taking in.  The audience was wonderful....the questions well-informed and thoughtful.  I was pleased with the image at the end of the session which lasted 2 hours.  I knew that it was something that I could build on later.

Jo   oil/canvas   20 x 10 x 1.5

Figure Drawing...using a horizontal format...Ethereal

Ethereal   Charcoal/Pastel   5.25 x 17.5

For the last session of our drawing class, we elected to draw the figure.  The art teacher whose room we borrow at night was happy to recommend a high school art student willing to pose and make a few Christmas dollars.  Yeah!  Maggie was athletic, long and lean.  She was able to relax well for us in this extremely horizontal pose.  Results can be seen in the accompanying slide show.  I felt that we all did well as far as simple shapes and proportions.  There were a few angles(especially for the pillowed head) that were slightly off.  Judging angles visually is difficult but can be aided by using one's pencil at arm's length to find it and replicate it on the paper.  An angle that is off just a smidgen causes the head to lose its state of relaxation and appear to be full of tension, as if getting up.  Once figure drawing is mastered, an artist will be able to use photos for reference without point to point copying without anatomical understanding thereof.  Another problematic area occurred for those whose perspective involved the foreshortening of the head area.  I recommended treating this head and shoulders area as a shallow bowl, with a losing of edges and slight shadowing in the middle with the more complete rendering around the diameter where most of the light would appear.  A difficult, but interesting illusion.

For me, nothing is more rewarding than the curves of the human figure.

Test for Doneness...

Ella   Watercolor   18.5 x 12

The other day I met an old friend for wine at a local vineyard.   She is a professional cookie baker.  We were discussing the finer points thereof when she expressed her preference for cookies that are baked JUST BEFORE browning.  I have always preferred those with a golden color....probably baked a minute or two longer.  That very evening at critique, there were two amazing works on view whose makers expressed that they were "in progress".  Whoa.  I so loved them both as they were.  Michael Nevin paints street scenes, especially Chicago street scenes.  In this case the pencil drawing was revealed....some of the buildings and windows were painted in.  The pencil marks playing with the paint was invigorating to me!  Undercooked perhaps to him.  Barbara Krans Jenkins paints with colored pencil on dried gourds.  She has a fine eye and usually renders small flowers and birds on them.  When finished, one would be hard pressed to know that they are gourds....they are ceramic in nature.  In this case, she was asked to paint abstractly on the gourd using certain colors.  It seemed that this was a bit out of her comfort zone.  She had erased some masses of color thinking that they were mistaken.  The bits of color that had settled into crevices was wonderful....it was there but wasn't.  There was a good deal of rendering on part of the gourd which meandered into the halfway places.  Superb.  I would have considered it a fait accompli.  Again, she considered it undercooked.  Which just shows to go ya that every maker-of-things has a personal aesthetic that takes them along the artistic path and lets them off at different exits.  I feel that there are artists and people of all kinds who carry things too far just because they feel they are doing a good job.  If a little if good, then a lot must be great.  Not always.  An undercooked work allows the viewer to participate in the work....he/she is therefore engaged in the work as well.  The rule of 3's.  That which has been left undone.  That in which there is space to grow.

There are two images here of Ella, a high school art student who modeled for our watercolor class.  I later took the painting to completion at home.  But in this work in particular, I so missed the rawness of the work at the end of the live session.  This lesson will suit me well.

And as for cookies.....they rule.  Undercooked.  Slightly golden.  Whatever.  Joyful participation.

Let the Wild Rumpus Begin!...

Christmas Chaos   Watercolor on Yupo   8 x 8

Holiday season is a crazy mix of emotions!  The extreme childlike joy that the season provides is immeasurable.  Likewise,  the frustrations.  We have a holiday tradition here that requires us to fix everything that has been functionally broken for the past year....all in the month of December.  Add to that the tempestuously tangled coils of holiday lights that you remember neatly coiling and organizing the January past.  How does it happen?  Holiday decorations defy organization entirely. (or the possibility of attic gremlins)

"Christmas Chaos" was painted at the end of last holiday season using a few bulbs that had hidden during attic reassignment.  Yupo paper provides the texture.  In fact, one simply cannot escape texture when using this paper, as the surface is a slippery plate.  Adding more pigments always always disturbs what is underneath.  Smooth passages are impossible.  Although this paper is not my favorite, I can understand how using it in certain instances will support chaotic intentions......

such as holiday decorations.

And, as far as those cheap light strings that work only for one year (or half of them go out).....I vow not to purchase them any more.  Please recycle them at :

Recycle holiday lights


All lights sent for recycling should be sent to:
HolidayLEDs.com Recycling Program
C/O Classic Turning, Inc.
4905 James McDivitt Street
Jackson, MI 49201-8958

Just what is expressive drawing?...my own definition...Fragile Patterns

Fragile Patterns   Charcoal/Mixed   19 x 12.5

In the time I have been writing this blog, there have been more hits on my expressive drawing posts than any others.  Unfortunately, until now, I have only described the steps we took in workshops without explaining exactly what I mean.  Expressive drawing is my own moniker, albeit general, that signifies a drawing where other considerations trump the exactness of the subject.  And, hopefully, it leads to expressive painting as well.

I use the design approach to drawing and painting.  Design  elements are the artist's tools.  They include:
1.  Shape (pattern, form, mass, object, subject matter)
2.  Value  (light and dark, tone, tint)
3.  Space (the illusion of 3-dimensional depth and 2-dimensional flatness)
4.  Edges (blurred and sharp, lost and found)
5.  Color Temperature (warm and cool)
6.  Texture (surface variation)
7.   Line (drawing versus mass painting)
8.  Color Hue (spectrum clossifications: red, yellow, blue, etc; local and arbitrary hues)
9.  Color Intensity (brightness, neutral versus pure)


The design principles ore the organizing aesthetic ideas that guide your use of elements in a painting. They are:
1 , Dominance (emphasis, focal point)
2,  Movement (rhythm,, directions, gesture, transition)
3,  Variety (contrast, conflict, tension)
4,  Unity (harmony, balance or not with intention)

These elements are shared by artists of all kinds from illustrative to culinary.  Each artist has his/her personal sense of aesthetic "correctness" that is a personal mix of the elements and principles dependent upon his/her preferences.  My own mix is just that...my own.  In expressive drawing, these principles are in play right along with the subject, the reality.

Drawing expressively relies on a good foundation in drawing; the desire for a bit of risk-taking; enjoying happy accidents and occasional chaos;  a skill in gross motor drawing from the shoulder (as opposed to fine motor with the wrist); and the ability to trust your own problem- solving and decision-making ability.

My own preferences for an expressive drawing or painting include:

* moving from 3-dimensional correctness and detail in the focal area to 2-dimensional flatness    in the far corners of the work

* calligraphic line (especially the S-curve) that mimic nature

* lines that extend too far

* broken line

* echo lines (or power lines) in important areas for strength

* combining like-valued shapes for simplicity

* unexpected shapes wherever

* warms played against cools

* line played against mass

* amazing neutrals played against a few pures

* as many lost edges as possible....leading to a bit of beautiful (hopefully) nothingness

* and rhythm, rhythm, rhythm using edges to create movement

Landscape!...

Pumpkin Patch   Watercolor   8.75 x 8.75

Because the interests of the artists in my watercolor class are so varied, we often vote on a genre to pursue.  Our last project in the fall session was landscape.  My goals were:  a small colorful rendering; using smaller brushes than usual due to its size; and, of course, animation.  I had hoped to stay true to my reference....as usual, that was not possible.  My love for strong design trumps reality.  I started by creating a nest for my pumpkin patch.....chaotic strokes and scrapings that would simulate the field in which they perched.  Loose to tight.  The reverse is impossible....for me.  I tried to create a rhythm around the rows of pumpkins, as well as washing over some in order to strengthen others.  This is a small painting - 10 x 10.  I am happy....at least as happy as I can be at the finish.  I always seem to yearn for the path not taken.  Indecision.

The next painting is always my favorite.

Just how far will you go...

Pumpkin with Canned Peppers   Pastel/Paper   7.75 x 8.5

...to finish a painting?  I go pretty far.  Long ago when things didn't go as planned, I would begin again, only to find different passages left wanting.  Commitment is the thing.  An interactive relationship between me, the artist, and the painting.  No over-control.  No under-control.  A seeming back-and-forthness that will take you into a creative place you have never been.  This work started out as a drawing demo during a workshop.  Not much color....just the contes and sticks in my pencil box.  At home I added pastel.  Thought it was done..... The next day when I evaluated it, I saw BORING.  Nothing worse.  Using linoleum block ink and a template made of tracing paper, I printed over top.  Zing.  I am much happier.  The last step was to touch up a few passages with pastel.  Having everything in its proper place is just not enough for me these days.  I need a bit of chaos, a bit of happenstance.  Love that word.  Love its effect.

Surprises are so sweet.

Gourds...

Gourd Fest   Watercolor   8 x 12

were another subject matter shared by both drawing and watercolor artists in my classes...those bumpy, shape-shifting and colorful natural objects that catch our eyes in November markets.  Each artist had his or her own goals.  Some chose simple monochromatic renderings with wispy shadows.  Others went for more complex compositions and a more filled-in background spaces.  In some cases the gourds are used only as a motif. for further design.  In others, they are incredibly lifelike, resembling serpents.  The addition of color always makes for a far more complicated problem. I am delighted by all of the results.

Tools...

Kitchen Mix   Watercolor   10 x 10

were the topic, the seed, for conceptualizing and design in both my watercolor and drawing classes.  The choice of tools as well as the number was up to the individual artist, hopefully providing each artist with enough commitment to do well on the project.  ( versus a topic selected only by me which might be difficult for all to relate and commit to)  The results speak for themselves.  These artists work hard and are serious-minded.  The results are varied.  Those who are beginners were encouraged to render only one item.  Those with more experience were encouraged to use more items which exponentially increases the complexity of the composition.  I see sensitivity.  Great design work.  Fabulous results.  I am so happy that each artist pursued his/her own vision.

Tools are personal and soulful by nature.  Add to that a willing artist.  I do not value a dozen cloned photorealistic works nearly as much as a dozen individual interpretations.  Enter emotion. Va-voom.

Raking...

Raking   Watercolor/Graphite   21 x 13.25

is an example of what I consider to be a watercolor sketch.  It has many elements that I adore....a figure in motion, a figure physically working (which I consider to be a soulful and noble endeavor), and a person I adore...my husband Rick.  Rick agreed to pose for our watercolor class a few years ago.  This painting is the result.  I am thinking that its brevity is its strongest virtue.  Having a model for a limited time period forces us to get to the point rather quickly...no time for extras such as a background.  In fact, sometimes when a work develops into a full-blown painting, the original spark becomes buried in the paint.  It becomes somehow duller.  Poetry.  Prose.  I enjoy everything about it.  Even the pencil squiggles that create a bit of a border.  Would I have been that carefree on a painting in which I had invested several days?  I don't think so.

The challenge then, for me, is to be able to save the original spark as the painting marches onward and becomes a bit weightier.

and speaking of inky blue...a Halloween sky

Halloween Sky   Watercolor

Television seems at times more boring than ever despite the countless choices.  Sometimes, for me, it is a commercial that gets my attention.  Like the new Cadillac commercials....that whole package is terrific...the music....the street soul...the "that's the way we do it in LA", or Detroit-thing.  Outstanding.  Especially since Cadillac is on my never-ever list.  So imagine my surprise when the current issue of Vanity Fair includes an article on "Art in the Streets - The West Hollywood Library Murals" presented by, yes, Cadillac.  Graffiti artist Retna has created his own symbolic amalgamation of languages....beautiful marks that read as hieroglyphs/old English/middle eastern/centuries-old calligraphy.  Meant only to be read visually. That is enough for me! The movement of the paint or ink resembling Sheaffer fountain pens, the ink flowing from translucency to opacity in a single stroke.

Beautiful.  Thoughtful.  Inky Blue.

copyright:  Vanity Fair, November 2011.

Inky Blue over baby blue...

daisies over roses...lemons over oranges. These are some of my preferences.  I believe that, as artists, we need to pay attention to those things and those situations that spin our fans.  Self-definition.  In order to find yourself and your own style in your creative endeavors, you must be able to identify that which is you and that which is not.  Self-Realization.  Attention must be paid.  Although we take classes with other artists, and admire other work, we must be willing to find our own ways, our own personal journeys.  As a teacher, I find it very difficult to tread the fine line of "these are the things that could be improved in your work" versus "do this is you wish to paint like me".  The latter does no one any good.  It is my opinion that every art student, even those more experienced, will benefit from the gradual whittling down of "that which I am not".  Of course, that all leads to "that which I am".

Paying attention to what gives us a buzz is fun as well as informative.  It seems as if we spend so much of our lives trying to fit in that we ignore our preferences.  A lot of this is cultural as well.....as well as gender-bent.  (don't get me started)

"Halloween Sky" was painted from a memory that was presented to me as I headed home due East one late night after class.  Inky blue was part of that memory.  Wait a minute....inky blue was the memory.

My personal fashion style:  baggy.  soft.   And, above all, garments and cloth items made in India.

Play Time...just for the doing and stamping...

Bibliophile   Mixed/Paper   14 x 7

sounds like the name of a day care center.  And just think of the fun to be had there!  Crayolas, paper, blunt-edged scissors and glue sticks galore!  Sometimes we artists take ourselves much too seriously and skip over play time without accessing its benefits.  A few weeks back at our art club, we had a model session where each participant took a turn at a 10 minute pose.  My goal for the evening was to attempt to render each pose with as little detail as possible.  My paper for the evening was a thin 90# cold press watercolor.  Efforts on newsprint are forever locked into practice, as the paper disintegrates into yellowed nothingness.  Of the 5 or 6 done that evening, the one of Shannon reading a book was the most successful.  It was interesting to me.  It sat on my work table a while before I decided where it would take me.  First I made a template from tracing paper to cover the figure.  The copy was then worked using petite rubber stamps....oh, the boredom.  Then watercolor on top.  I resisted the urge to return the figure for more detail.

Fun.  Not-so-serious.  Yeah.

How to Feel Miserable as An Artist

is one of those humorous lists that artists pass on or e-mail to each other.  This list was shared by Tom Auld and is worth further sharing.  There is no credit line.

1.  Constantly compare yourself to other artists.

2. Talk to your family about what you do and expect them to cheer you on.

3. Base the success of your entire career on one project.

4. Stick with what you know.

5. Undervalue your expertise.

6. Let money dictate what you do.

7. Bow to societal pressures.

8. Only do work that your family would love.

9. Do whatever the client/customer/gallery owner/patron/investor asks.

10.Set unachievable/overwhelming goals.  To be accomplished by tomorrow.

Subtitle:  What Not to Do.  See yourself in any of the above?

Fragile Patterns...

Fragile Patterns   Charcoal/Mixed   19 x 12.5

tickle my fancy.  This portrait of Elizabeth was done from life at a session a week or so ago.  Elizabeth is a long and lithe and terrific model....very beautiful.  She was wearing a necklace comprised of hundreds of beads, a red vest and a black sequined bra.  I used vine charcoal to render the portrait.  At home, I thought about the pattern of the beads and chose a Moroccan design for the background.  Red watercolor washes overall.  The beads were intensified by dipping a pencil eraser into printing ink and pressing them onto the surface.  Patterns and jewelry are a woman's armor, weaponry if you will... peaceful decorations that celebrate beauty and love.

Pattern recognition and musical patterning are functions of the right brain.  

Fragile patterns celebrates this notion.

Stem to Stem...a group pumpkin gesture

Stem to Stem   oil/canvas   20 x 10 x 1.5

One year ago mid-morning,  I shot lots of photos at a local farm that puts on fabulous fun Halloween displays to tickle the fancies of children and adults alike.  Until now, I have included pumpkins in many still life paintings, but this time felt drawn to render a row of pumpkins....a row of $5 pumpkins, as they were lined up according to size.  This project became rather tedious as my goal was a vertical wedge of orange, rather than individual pumpkin portraits.  As I worked it became harder and harder to tell them apart, to separate them.  The crevices in-between became more and more important.  The rhythm throughout became a bit of a tangle.  The intense colors urged me on.  The stems (hats?  hair?) with their twisting, turning and varied directionality was the turning point.  I chose to leave the $5 signpost out of the work... that touch of commercial seemed just too vulgar compared to the beauty of the skins, the shells.

The work has been drying for several weeks now.  I am quite pleased.

Endless Possibilities...a humble onion

l'oignon   watercolor

I believe in endless possibility.  In painting.  In life.  Each element is a variable:  the medium used; the paper used;  the choice of brush; the color palette; an artist's individual sense of aesthetic; the force and rhythm with which the surface is stroked; and so on and so on; scooby-doo-be-doo-be.  Harriet Elson, a regional watercolorist whom  I so admired, used to refer to caressing the surface.  Therefore, those detractors who feel that in representational art, "it has all been done before" are out of line, out of touch with the individual and the endless choices made by that individual.  My opinion, of course.  Somehow, we representationalists are made to feel lesser by the modernists whose squiggles and random shapes require page-long explanations of the work.  Truth is, I believe that we all matter.  That our work matters.  That it can all be appreciated.  The work and website of Wendy Artin, an American watercolor painter who lives and works in Rome, was forwarded to me by fellow artist Tom Auld.  It is truly spectacular.  She considers and reconsiders.  She is representation.  And she wields a soft caressing brush.

I have chosen my painting "l'oignon" to accompany this entry, as I feel it is perhaps the most sensitive watercolor I have done to date.  Of course, most in my circles would call it a watercolor sketch, as it doesn't have the power (and background) of a powerful painting.  And, most likely, it would never be accepted into a major exhibition.  Too small.  Not enough impact.  But sensitive I think.

The Letting Go..the real + the imagined...carousel

The Letting Go   oil/canvas   40 x 30 x 1.5

was painted fairly recently as a therapeutic work for myself....and vicariously for a friend.  The work was created from many photos taken click-click-click.....style on a beautiful spring morning in Boston.  The figure is a composite of two separate girls. The face is made up and played down to increase the power of the overall figure.  The arm is made up.  I modeled my own hand.  The horse is a composite of real and imagined.   The interior of the carousel's roof  was flattened into a 2-dimensional pattern.  I was concerned with the overall lightness of the bottom of the canvas.  I was advised at a recent critique to leave it alone and consider the work finished.  Terrific.  Using a design-centered approach can leave one up in the air as far as a cemented finish as there are always patterns that can be enhanced.  OK.  Wonderful.  There was also a comment regarding the lack of sheen on the painted surface.  Up until now, I have used a 5:1:1 medium mix of turpentine: stand oil: damar varnish.  I may experiment with a 50:50 mix of turpentine:stand oil.

Learn.  Re-learn.  Keep moving.

Safari...

A Flair for Drama   oil/canvas   20 x 16 x 1.5

is a Swahili word that literally means "long journey".  I would like to think that its implications include a finding, a journey of the self, which is pretty much inherent in the notion of a long journey.  Our friend Pat recently returned from an African safari, not in search of hunting game, but in search of a knowledge of the world at large, and, of course, in search of self.  After years and years of the nine-to-five in support of his family, this was his treat to himself.  Likewise, each and every work of art is a journey....some longer than others.  The slide progression shows my journey in the painting of my rooster friend.  I yearned for my paint and my stroke-making to be all-things-rooster, in order to avoid the stagnancy of rooster-for-decoration.  And, a journey it was!  Each of my works has always included a problem area.....in this work is was the rear leg...the one that should be not-so-dominant and fading into the ground area.  However, as I work abstractly at the same time, the overall design seemed to be fighting with the notions of reality.  Originally, I had planned to discuss my decisions at each pass.  Unfortunately, those explanations have faded with two exceptions.  I always recall the feeling of unrestrained joy at the beginning, the first pass, and the openness of possibility.    I can also recall the thrill I felt as the cool green was added to the mix....that was, perhaps, the most exciting moment in the process.  As you can see, I played with many solutions and came to an agreement of sorts.  Is it finished?

I do not know at this time.  Perhaps the journey is over.  Perhaps not.

Fright Night...

Shocking   Mixed/Paper   34.5 x 22

I am a mystery-lover.  After all, isn't making a painting somewhat like solving a giant mystery?  Each October, I have a bit of a film festival for myself....mysteries, thrillers, haunted houses and the like.  Things that go bump in the night.  Things that jar us away from the day-to-day, the status quo that can become ever-so-monotonous.  When I hoisted the work "Shocking" onto its notch on the wall recently, I was reminded of how much fun it was to create this work.  I assembled photos of shocked and surprised friends and family:  my friend Concepcion, friend Brian and his two sons Oscar and Casper, son Seth and friend Cheryl who for many years, ran the now-defunct Brimfield Post Office.  Cut linoleum blocks printed onto the paper's surface provided the "look" of a film strip.  (which has indeed become an antiquity) The work continued by arranging faces and drawing with pastels in my favorite spooky colors.  I tried to keep a vague darkness going on....as if these were faces in a darkened movie theater.  My friends had fun posing for this work, I think.  And I had a great deal of fun making it.  "Shocking" is the title.  I am slightly hidden in the upper right hand corner.

Ah....Middle Age...a profile...

Middle Age   oil/canvas   16 x 8 x 1.5

In our youth- and diet-oriented culture, we seem to cringe at the the notion of middle age.  My work was painted from a detailed sketch made during a live model situation.  There were those who really didn't want to participate, as this gentleman's body veered quite a ways from  the beautiful norm that we admire.  As I have never appreciated or enjoyed the notion of physical perfection, nor likewise the notion of ugliness in order to make a statement, I thoroughly appreciated the opportunity before me.  (I much enjoy the French term jolie-laide, which incorporates a bit of both)  Middle age...the period where gravity takes its toll, where backs laden with fatigue become curved...where support is welcome...where plumpness becomes the norm.  Yes.  I relished the opportunity to reduce this drawing to a few simple shapes and lines that would tell the story of middle age.

P.S.  A simple look around the studio revealed similar bodies, even among those who scoffed.  Life is interesting.

Bold versus Sublime...

Pumpkin with Twisty Stem   Watercolor

I would have to say that I prefer bold paintings....those that pull you in from across the room and beckon you to come closer.  But I also believe that we need to learn to play all of the notes:  loud and soft; quick and slow; rhythmic and not-so.  These are the tools that allow us to solve all (or almost all) visual problems.  It seems to me that great musicians are masters of all kinds of notes that lead us into varying moods and feelings....they need to be able to manipulate their listeners.  Same with great actors.  And so, from time to time, I present myself with a painting problem that requires a more sublime presentation.

"Pumpkin with a Twisty Stem" was begun as a watercolor monoprint.  I painted tender strokes onto a piece of plexiglass then transferred it by pressing onto a sheet of hot press watercolor paper.  I continued to coax the image into being.  The sublime is more easily accomplished with this versatile medium.  I am pleased with these results.

Torrit Gray...in praise of neutrals

I am in love.  With Torrit Gray.  No, not a guy... a paint from Gamblin.

I am a value painter.  But I do appreciate neutrals a great deal, especially when laid next to pures and sparkling brights.  I have always mixed my own grays.  It is usually quite an ordeal, searching for a particular neutral nuance, while adding and adding and subtracting with my palette knife.  This summer I found in my color box a promotional tube of Torrit Gray from Gamblin.  I have absolutely no idea where it came from.  But I now hail its unexpected arrival.  Because it is such a beautiful gray, in my opinion, I found myself simply mixing the pure hue of my choice to get it to lean in a particular direction.  The tube says " In honor of Earth Day, we make this oil color from recycled pigments collected by our air filtration system".  Wow.

There is a special link on the Gamblin site that explains this pigment and its making.  I found it fascinating.

Torrit Gray is quite a guy.

Here’s the secret of being a great colorist: it doesn’t matter how well you combine the bright, obvious colors, it’s the so-called dull, closely related shades - gray-greens, pewters, tans, muted browns, umbers, ochres, stormy blues and charcoals - that determines whether you have an eye for color.

Dorothy Shinn, April 14, 2005 review of Yves Saint-Laurent, Akron Beacon Journal

Hanging Around...

Boston Beat   oil/canvas  40 x 30 x 1.5

is a term that implies a bit of laziness, without particular goals.  Hanging around was something we did as teenagers.....waiting for some excitement to stir us.  There are paintings that hang around in my studio.  "Boston Beat" was one such work.  I trusted my intuition as it resided there against the wall.  I was not ready to hang it, to wire it, to consider it finished.  It was just fine....all the pieces were in their places.  The forms interrelated to my satisfaction.  The color pleasing.  Still....I found it a bit boring.  Too much reality.  Values that, to my irritation, whispered.  Not to mention that dreaded green triangle in the upper left.  Painting is a process that requires continued learning and questioning.  I love work that has an immediate impact with its shapes and values.  There was only one thing left to do............surgery.  What it needed took its time to infiltrate my brain.  I am happier.

Resolution is always sweet.  Sometimes attainable.  Sometimes not.

Re-Do...

Onionskin   Watercolor/Gouache   20.5 x 13

I decided fairly early on in my art career that re-do's were a waste of time.  Sometimes we think that if we re-paint our subject, we will certainly do better.  Usually, for me, I find that some passages are improved and others, which were previously satisfactory, are left wanting on the second trip around.  Re-Do's also interfere with commitment.  Morayo is the younger sister of my son's friend Bandele.  She is a prickly girl.  She modeled many years ago during a hot summer for my colleagues Jack Liberman and Judy Carducci.....and me.....when we painted in an upstairs garret room of The Italian American Center in Akron. Her pose, with delicately placed fingertips and a flower, is at odds with her personality.  Her life had not been easy.  The first time I painted her, I was dissatisfied to the point of torture.  A second painting yielded approximately the same results.  Now, many years later, I look back on this work and realize that she is there.  I see both Morayo and her her brother.  I see who she is on the inside.

Onionskins......layer upon layer.  Sometimes it takes a while to get to the inside.

A painting is never finished....

Girls Named Susan   oil/canvas   8 x 8

  It simply stops in interesting places.
                                                         Phil Gardner

I know artists on both ends of this spectrum....those whose goal is a signature and a frame, being more stimulated by the product than the process ; as well as those who add a brush stroke now and again for decades.....really.  I guess I am somewhere in the middle.  I really like to keep a painting leaning against my studio wall for a while, usually upside-down, being somewhat certain that I have resolved most major issues.  The release of the work just happens....either sooner or later.  That doesn't seem to matter.  It is deeply disconcerting to find awkward passages in those works that have "passed over".  Usually, for me, it happens more often in small works, those little paintings that I would like to think are so casual that they fill in the gaps; those little paintings that are taken a bit less seriously; those that I haven't pondered about in excess.  And yet, "Girls Named Susan" hung on my studio wall for less than a week when I realized that it could me made stronger and more exciting by adding some violet passages.  I succumbed.  Removed from the frame, it was.  Back on the easel.  I am happier.

I think it is a mistake to constantly correct paintings....that goes nowhere.  The best tack for me is to internalize the lesson learned and apply it to future works.  I am, at this point, wise enough to understand that perfectionism is rarely the solution for me.  I adore the happy accidents along the way that provide a searching, a discovery.  And so.................I really do try to honor the release of a work into completion.

Almost always.  Never say never.

Game On...

Saturday Morning Mancala...a sketch

Competitive gaming on a large scale makes me nervous.  Too much tension.  Too much noise. Too many egos on the line.  But I am always up for board games at home.  I look at these games as mental exercise...they keep the brain moving forward and back, side to side, and help us to discover all kinds of possibilities.  I was fortunate to marry into a family of gamers.  And, as a result, we enjoy Euchre, Oh Hell, Dominoes, Phase 10, Scrabble, Pictionary, Quiddler, Rapidough, Sequence, Jenga and Mancala.  Mancala is our summer game of choice and is permanently set up on the patio for short breaks during the day, or for enjoyment before dinner.  As is the case with all endeavors, what seems simple is actually complex.  The more one plays, the more one is able to see connections that are not initially visible.  "Saturday Morning Mancala" is a small drawing done on a visit to our son's apartment.  He and my husband were playing on the balcony while I peered through the sliding door, trying to capture his head as it pivoted during the game.  It is a small imperfect drawing that gave and still gives me pleasure and sweet memory.

Rediscovery...

This week I have been getting some work ready for an exhibit which requires fetching, cleaning and, sometimes, framing.  In doing so, I come across works that had been put aside.  "Amanda" is such a work, a charcoal drawing which gave me pause.  In fact, I pulled it out twice.  Mostly, in pulling out past works, I focus and fixate on weak passages....those passages that haven't been considered.....well....well enough in my opinion.  In this case, I was pleasantly surprised.  Because I have been painting all summer, the strength of the drawing and its values pleased me.  I loved the quick and spontaneous way the charcoal stick had moved around the paper.  The color of mid-tone paper was satisfying.  I enjoyed the rendering of the short and choppy hairstyle.  I remember being disappointed at its completion that the likeness wasn't right-on.  In the rediscovery, I had completely forgiven myself for this shortcoming and was thrilled with its essence.

Time heals.  Rediscovery.

Amanda   Charcoal/Paper   16.5 x 11

Glory Be to Limoncello!...

August Limoncello   oil/canvas   20 x 10 x 1.5

Soothing essence of lemon.  My first encounter with Limoncello was the lemonade beverage offered by The Olive Garden.  Heaven.  A bit too sweet but I replicated this beverage at home.  Limoncello desserts followed.  But still I was in quest of a simpler way to drink it.  My friend and colleague Judy Carducci sips hers on warm European evenings at the end of the art day.  She keeps hers in the freezer where it takes on a freezy syrupy quality.  This summer my usual gin and tonic was replaced by a limoncello and tonic served over crushed ice.  Fabulous.  Quenching.  The perfect refresher at the end of a hot summer day.  Piquant.  New.

"August Limoncello" is the painted ode.

Flowers have an expression...

Sun Queen   oil/canvas   20 x 16 x .5

of countenance as much as men and animals.  Some seem to smile; some have a sad expression; some are pensive and diffident; others again are plain, honest and upright, like the broad-faced sunflower and the hollyhock.                        

   Henry Ward Beecher

Painting with the season seems to suit me.  One of my challenges this summer is to incorporate a bolder color scheme into my work....just to push my comfort zone.  I am a unadulterated neutral-lover.  Loud colors scare me.  This morning while leafing through a fashion magazine, I came across a multi-paged article on bold color-blocked garments.  I shuddered.  "Sun Queen" is fresh off the easel.  I am not certain I am satisfied yet.  But the colors are bolder than I can recall using before.  The power of the sunflower seems to demand it.

essence...

Virginia Foothills   oil/canvas   20 x 10 x 1.5

is a wonderful word.  To me, it implies the distilling of something into its most flavorful, fragrant or visual parts.  A boiling down.

The Place:  Carter Mountain in Virginia
The Time:  a muggy day in May

My husband and I accompanied our son Seth and his friend Louise on an upwards hike up the mountain.  I was promised a natural fruit slushy of my choice at the top.  Well.....both Seth and Louise are marathon runners.  They trudged upwards effortlessly.  I enjoyed the exercise but was happy to wearing my sweat band......I was sweating like a.....well.....perspiring to some degree.
The fruit slushy was fabulous.  We took many photos.  The trip down was easier.  The day was amazing.

The patchwork patterning of the orchards was intriguing.

Essence.

Balancing Act...

Mary in Polka Dots   oil/canvas   30 x 24 x .5

Yes, indeed it is.  For almost everyone.  Finding that median in the land of polar opposites.  Work:Play.  Self:Others.  Visual balance is important in my work....and I have noticed that most people are highly sensitive to balance and can tell when, in any situation, it needs to be improved.  Being off-balance is disconcerting.  (There are cases, when asymmetry is very exciting and helps to tell the story.  In that case, imbalance is intended and purposeful).  Mary was a tall and lanky young model.  And then she did that pretzel thing with her legs wrapped around the rungs of the stool.  First of all, painting the human figure on a standard size canvas is difficult at best.  If the standing figure is painted in its entirety, the proportions of the surface are wrong to me, leaving far too much negative space.  O.K.  In this case, the lankiness was offset and balanced by some emphasis on the horizontals.  In the working of these horizontals, the relationships of shoulder/shoulder; hand/hand; knee/knee and boot;boot became even more important.  In this particular scenario, the stool had to be included as it was inseparable from the legs.  The horizontal rungs also helped to balance this extremely vertical situation.

I have watched people straighten a barely-crooked painting on a wall as they walk by.  I believe that a need for balance is deeply engrained in our physiology.

I am not a traditional realist...

Tomato Basket   oil/canvas   16 x 20 x 1.5

There, I said it.  Acceptance of my artistic direction.  Said with a sense of loss.  And also with a sense of relief.  I so admire traditional realism.  But after years of wiping out chairs upon which the models rest, I am ready to face my own direction with fortitude.  I have tried painting the barn behind the horse, the curtain behind the still life and the trees behind the model.  My sense of aesthetics has urged me to wipe them all out.  Yes, a light source matters to some degree.  It helps to describe my realistic forms, to ward them away from flatness.  But the design approach of dark and light patterns is where my thrill is....those patterns that exist and move and relate without regard to the subject matter.

"Tomato Basket" took quite a while to paint,  I remember being confused by my own desires being in conflict with the window behind the basket.  The tomatoes literally rotted while I figured it all out.

I am what I am and that's all that I am........Popeye

Dorothy...

Unsung Dorothy   oil/canvas   20 x 16 x 1.5

Gale just might be the most famous Dorothy ever...the I-wish-I-were-in-Kansas-ruby-slippers Dorothy.  And then there is that darling skater with the darling haircut....Dorothy Hamill.  But there are so many unsung Dorothys out there...participating in the daily grind and running offices at art centers on a volunteer basis.  These are the real Dorothys.  We were fortunate to have Dorothy pose for our class at the art center....3 hours.  I need about three times that amount of time in front of the model, at the very least, to reach completion.  If I'm lucky.  The next week she was unavailable.  I was lucky to have remembered my camera.  When investing time and energy in work from a model, it is always good to have a camera handy for finishing the work if schedules go south....illnesses, vacations, and a million other activities can easily shortchange our best efforts.  We work on a 20-minutes-on/5-minute-off session.  My favorite time to shoot the photo is 5 minutes or so into the SECOND session.  By this time, the model has found the pose.  Also more relaxed from the break.  Not too stiff from finding the pose again.

The world turns thanks to the efforts of all the unsung Dorothys.

and it's HOT HOT HOT...

Red Gold   oil/canvas   6 x 6 x 1.5

here in Northeast Ohio.  Our old 150-year-old dwelling has no air conditioning so the fans are at full tilt and begging for mercy.  The good news is that the heat and humidity have been superb growing conditions for the garden.  The first tomatoes are off the vine this week.  Yum.

All forms present their own particular problems in painting.  Circles.  Circles.  Circles.  Without hard and soft edges, the forms become too self-enclosed for me, preventing the movement around the painting.  I have learned this over the years with repeated efforts at painting pumpkins.  I love to play off these circles with line...the vines...and with texture...the leaves and the small buds at the tops.  For me, these considerations have improved my tomato painting efforts.

Add balsamic vinegar, soft mozzarella, salt or mayonnaise.  Life is good.

Brush your teeth and paint some flowers...

For the Love of Geranium   oil/canvas board   8 x 8

are among those structured disciplines that reside somewhere in my head.  Have to do them.  Not always a pleasure.  I feel that floral painting is one of the most difficult endeavors possible.  The form of just one bloom is highly complex.  Add another.  And yet another.  And consider the relationships between them.  Yikes!  I decided to paint the geraniums on my patio.  They are, in my opinion, right up there with lilacs when it comes to complexity.  They are made up of a myriad of pieces-parts, all in various stages of ebb and flow.  And so, I knew that the simple shapes of the blooms might best tell the story.  Seeing and interpreting their parts was amazingly confusing.  Their colors are also complex....being somewhat florescent and a merging of more than one hue.  And now, two days later, my studio is littered with pieces of geranium parts and leaves.  I feel as if I have done battle.

"For the Love of Geranium" is the result.

Daily Painting...or painting daily?

Ginger Jar with Peaches   oil/canvas   12 x 9 x 1.25

Yes, I paint every day....or nearly.  But the current daily painter movement is comprised of artists who actually finish a painting in a day.  How DO they do it?  I linger over my coffee and my meals.  I even linger over many decisions.  And, I just love the look of paint over paint.  That can only occur when the paint has some time to dry.  I consider and reconsider.  To give myself a break from the larger painting problems in my work area, I have decided to paint a few smaller still life works that will be color-driven and a bit mindless.  The shift will accommodate attention and practice in other arenas....brushwork, the difficulty of painting flowers and design to name a few.

"Ginger Jar with Peaches" is a smaller 12 x 9 painting.  A 2-day painting.  The best I can do.

How do they do it?

Express Yourself...

Grande Dame   oil/canvas   30 x 40 x 1.5

I am the happiest when my work reflects who I am....my own personal recipe of design expressed through paint.  In the past, I have painted what is in front of me, especially en plein air, using local color, hard edges and pretty much what would be seen from a photograph.  The result has been a great dissatisfaction and uneasiness.  "Grande Dame" was originally painted from photos taken from a Victorian home.  Its title was "Gabled".  Despite the fact that it was, in my opinion, a respectable work, it didn't thrill me.  It did not represent my own ideas, my own interpretation.  After a year had passed and it was time for varnishing, I decided that I just couldn't preserve it as it was.  I couldn't wait for the initial destruction.  It sat in my studio for a very long time.  By then I had deleted all photo references.  It took four sessions of discovery and interpretation.  It was rechristened "Grande Dame".

While I am certain that there are those who prefer the first version, I owe it to myself to be myself.  Not painting to an audience.  

I felt as if I had come home.  At long last.

Surprise!

Jardiniere   watercolor/mixed   20.5 x 12

is a wonderful expression....and most often conjures up a birthday party.  Most recently, my work "Jardiniere" was the subject of surprise for me.  This painting, a watercolor, was begun in class from a model who posed as a gardener.  I continued the work at home, filling in the spaces with an imaginary garden.  Soon, I was overwhelmed with a sameness of color and a busy-ness that had taken over.  It looked like most of my other garden paintings droned into sameness.  I yearned to simplify the background and, thus, shift all of the attention to the gardener whose work is unending.  I am quite a fan of the teachings of Robert Henri who believed that the evolution of a work depending on the altering of passages that seem wrong.  As the work progressed, I found myself using gouache as well as printer's ink which was applied to a plate and pressed onto the surface.  Colors were urged into excitement.  The journey became totally unpredictable.

Surprise!  Immediately afterwards, I was very confused as to the amount of affection I felt for this work.  Now, several weeks later, I find myself liking it.

SURPRISE!

The ideas that won't go away...a carousel and its implications...The Letting Go

are the ones to which we need pay attention.  The notion of a calliope has long been one of those ideas for me.  Many times observed.  Many times photographed.  During a recent trip to Boston we happened upon a calliope filled with children, some smiling and some hesitant, on a brisk sunny morning.  I stood at the edge and kept snapping photos, one after the other.  "The Letting Go" is the resultant painting, one I have been thinking about for years and years.  My attraction is definitely not nostalgic....although I have seen some delightful paintings that exude this quality.  My idea has more to do with leaving the "round and round", about becoming fearless, and about letting go of past hurts and hurtful relationships.  A spinning away from the expected and the predictable. The painting was created from many references including my own hand.  The most difficult part to resolve was the value one....I was shooting for a light-filled canvas.  Yet, I am value painter and needed to  include powerful darks....that is who I am.  I feel that I came to a useable compromise.

Last night on "So You Think You Can Dance", one of the beautiful choreographies was conceived from this same concept.  Interesting!  Synchronicity.

The Letting Go

The Beauty of Simple Shapes...

Eleanor...a sketch

I'm afraid that I am a newbie when it comes to appreciating the beauty of simple shapes.  Other concerns...many other concerns...have been much more apparent in my artistic studies.  Simple shapes are often masked in the background....more subtle...as we work our forms into visual presence.  It is true, however, that a painting is more successful from the get-go if the 4-5 simple shapes in the composition are also beautiful and stimulating in their interlocking jigsaw-puzzle-like nature.  In fact, in class we have been analyzing these shapes using tracing paper on top of famous paintings, as well as on our own.  I am beginning to appreciate these shapes from the beginning of a sketch rather than as an afterthought.

"Eleanor" is a sketch of my mother-in-law done on the deck of our vacation rental at the end of the day when light was waning.   I don't need any other detail to tell me that it is indeed her.  It is her shape, her posture, her figure.

Flexibility...

Lemonade   watercolor   13.5 x 18

is a characteristic that keeps us fresh and new.  It keeps the doldrums away, for the most part.  It helps up to solve new problems in a new way.  It prompts us to reuse, deconstruct and reconstruct.  I believe that it is a key ingredient for happiness.  When we first started visiting Charlottesville, Virginia a few years back we wandered into a spacious gallery called Sage Moon.  Great ambiance.  Several rooms.  Artwork by professionals and school children alike.  A cultural mecca.  Owner Morgan MacKenzie-Perkins, a dynamo to be certain, had to close this gallery due to the economy's downturn.  She picked up the pieces and found a new way to operate.  The works she features are shown in various local locations, including Siips Wine Bar.  Although she regrets this turn of events, she has certainly made the most of a bad situation.  Thanks to Morgan, many artists are still being shown in this wonderfully cultural community.

Lemonade from lemons.  Fresh at that.

Constant Change...

Slice   watercolor on paper   2.5 x 7.5

is difficult for painters to capture.  We deal with a frozen moment situation.  Claude Monet solved his curiosity with haystacks by painting an entire series.  Contemporary kinetic sculptors such as Janet Echelman and Anne Lilly create works whose movement IS the art.  Gazing at the face of a loved one provides multitudinous "looks" in the course of a day.  Which one to choose for the frozen moment?  Likewise with the ocean.  Colors, texture and direction change many times during the course of the day.  During our shore vacation, I painted only 2 very small watercolors of the ocean.  There could have been dozens.  Yet each one allows me to feel the infinite.

Give More Stickers

Recently I had the most wonderful experience of coloring with a lovely 3-year-old girl named Jaidyn on an extended family vacation to the shore.  She was armed with a lovely set of Crayola Twistables that I also carry in my drawing toolbox.  As we colored and scribbled, we chatted about the yuckiness of boo-boos and the deliciousness of milk.  About every 5 minutes, she awarded my sketchbook with a sticker.  As you can see, I was rewarded with many stickers....which definitely felt great. 

                    Picasso said: Every child is an artist.  The problem is how to remain an artist once                                                we grow up.

Jaidyn's approach was one of play....non-judgmental and honest.  Naive.  It put things into perspective for me...at least for a short while.

          Give more stickers.  Receive more stickers.  And dip some Oreos while you're at it.

Home...

Boston Beat   oil/canvas   40 x 30 x 1.5

is where the heart is.  Certainly true.  I am a notorious homebody.  Home is where I work, where I relax, where I cook and garden and where I worry.  Thomas Moore expounds upon the great soulfulness of home in The Re-Enchantment of Everyday Life.  Still, travel opens up great windows of awareness.  To travel is to experience new sounds, smells and flavors, as well as sights.  A spring trip to Boston was like a jolt of adrenaline.  Two new paintings are the result.  A pair of street musicians in Boston Commons in the early spring light was a momentous experience.  I envied their musicality, their spontaneity and their seeming unawareness of onlookers.  "Boston Beat" is the result.

Nesting...

Hand Woven   watercolor/gouache   11.75 x 10

is a fairly common sight this time of year, especially if you are an observant nature-lover.  My husband knows where every feathered nest is in our yard.  We wait on the trimming until the first brood has flown.  We painted nests in class.  Almost every artist was able to bring in an abandoned nest.  There they were in all their glory...feathers, strings, fishing line, small bits of paper and even some Chinese money plants woven in.  They are an art form unto themselves.  The challenge was to create an entire composition around the nest....where the dark brownness of the nest did not overwhelm value-wise to create a "hole" in the picture.  We had some amazing results!  Each one different.  Each beguiling.  The results were as glorious as the nests themselves.