A case of the uglies.

Not only did my work take a little shift early this year, but my way of working did also.  Gone are the days of being quite so deadline dependant.  I used to work on the final piece, pushing it through and finishing it up just in time to load it into the van and head off to a show.  The downside to this was not only that I'd leave for a show physically exhausted, but I would also return home to a messy studio, with nothing but blank canvases to look at.

Now when I return home I find a handful of paintings in mid stream, ready to be be picked up and carried through to completion.  This is more comfortable for me because I am not trying to start from scratch, trying to find the magic right out of the gate.  I am inspired by what is in front of me, and can build on it.  When I walked into the studio for the first time in a week, this is what greeted me...

Yes, "Chatterbox" has miles and miles to go, but it has good bones.  And I was glad it was there, not only to jump start my painting, but as a bit of relief to it's sister in the studio.  "Surly Girl" is also in progress, and is currently living up to her namesake.  As much as "Chatterbox" is inspiring, "Surly Girl" is not.  "Surly" is in fact going through a eye gouging ugly stage.  The uglies are not always a bad thing, in fact they are practically expected, much like awkward teenage pimples.  Sometimes I court the uglies, building on them on purpose.  The uglies can be used to balance out a painting that has become too saccharine sweet, or you can surround a nice bit with something muddy, or squishy, and the contrast makes it shine. 

But right now "Surly" is just ugly, muddy, patchy, and just difficult in general.  And a sure fire way to be sure she stays that way is to sit here and continue to write about it.  So off I go, let's see if I can get her back on the rails.  If I do, I'll post about her, if I don't...well, try to forget I ever mentioned her.

Studio Slice #17

Collaged background on a new piece, I love this part.

Attagirl

It's been a while since I've done an "attagirl." An "attagirl" from my Dad was the best thing ever. They were few and far between, you knew you deserved it when one came. While working on this piece I was thinking about two possibilities; a little girl brave enough to climb a tree, or the encouragement needed to learn to fly.

The tree branches are full of life, washes of color from mauve to yellows. Cut into with a semi opaque sky. "Attagirl is stitched through the canvas, right next to the yellow Pine Warbler.

24" square.

My Sketchbook

It was my first art teacher, in the eighth grade, who preached the importance of having a sketchbook. As a place to work on your drawing skills, and to work out ideas. And I have always had one, sometimes used every day, and sometimes not for months. But I always had one around somewhere. The only thing that has changed, is how I use it.

At first, as a teen, I would pour over every drawing in there, I couldn't stand to show my work to anybody if the whole book wasn't perfect. And of course it was never perfect. Blind and partially blind contour drawings were my favorite things to do. Watercolor or ink sketches wrinkled up the pages. But I always thought of my sketchbook had to be a series of finished works.

Not now.

Now I rarely sketch, the most I ever do is a reasonably accurate line drawing of how I envision a commission to come together for a client. Now my sketchbook is there mostly just to take visual notes. These quick little 3" or so square squiggles in ballpoint pen map out the little thoughts about how to put a painting together. Scrawled notes with arrows poke into the drawing with instructions that aren't apparent in the sketch..."soft warm gray background." Just to jog my memory. My sketchbook is full of these little blocks, often working out ideas for a painting over and over again in different forms. And eventually, as I flip through all the ideas looking for one to basically blossom, boom, there it is! That idea, and this one a few pages back, all of a sudden just fit together.

And the sketch usually gets me about 3/4 of the way through a painting, the last 1/4 is the hard part though. The discussions and negotiations with the painting directly in front of you. But that's another story.

My favorite thing about my sketchbook now is how it serves as a journal. I don't think about it at all when I'm drawing in it, or making a list of whatever. But when I occasionally come across an old sketchbook, from last year or the last decade, my memory is taken on a bit of a ride, without having specific references to the outside world. Try it, put what you want in it, and don't think you have to show it to anybody!

And just as a note, the two lino blocks peeking in at the top of the page are elements from a commission I am working on. "Queen Bee" I think she'll come together just fine!

Busy Bird

Introducing "Busy Bird"

Steps forward in the life of a painter seem to be few and far between. As much as I know my work is improving over time, the tiny shreds of evidence are not always easy to find. What seems to me like an overwhelming epiphany in the moment, may result in little more than a shrug in the real world.

But this piece had one, perhaps a tiny one, but still it is a small step forward. Rather than use a rubber stamp from my collection to make the background, the lines of x & o's, I carved a small lino block. Not a huge task, those who have known me for many years know how familiar I am with linoleum block prints as they were my medium of choice. I've pulled dozens of multiple color reductive lino prints, never with a press, as I've never had that kind of dough, but with a wooden spoon.

But I don't think I can tell you how much I enjoyed carving that little block, the smell of linseed oil, the carving knife went through like butter. I thought it had been 3 or 4 years since I had carved a block, but I have just surprised myself. I just checked the date on the last lino I remember carving, it says 2001, time flies. Anyhow, this little change, has opened up a bunch of new possibilities, carving any patterns, or text into a block, and treating it like a stamp. Much more original than using store bought stamps, and endless possibilities.

Now back to Little Bird, the star of the show. The dress itself was a little sweater dress. I have never used a sweater dress before, and as I was soaking it in the goo, I really wasn't sure it was going to work, I expected it to stretch into some unidentifiable blob. But it went down very nicely. The key coming out of the top is silver leaf, with an acrylic transfer of a photo of this crazy little wind up bird I have. The bird is also repeated along the hem of the dress. Busy Bird is stitched into a halo shape where the head would be.

I must say this is a bit of a self portrait, it was the last piece painted in a marathon painting push after a really great show, as I was trying to get ready for the next. If you sat me down and asked me my mother's maiden name about the time I finished this, I'm not so sure I could have told you. But it is at times like that when the grand, or even puny ideas seem to come out of nowhere.

Wallflower

Wallflower is fresh off the easel. It has quite a different look from most if it's "sisters," partly because the dress is more from the 70's era rather than the 40's and 50's. The pattern is a loose interpretation of what was actually on the dress, enlarged to bigger than wallpaper size. What I love about this piece is the contrast or "push-pull" between the transparent color and the opaque ground. I added a bit of a shadow behind the dress just to make it pop a bit, but I already know there will be many, many people who will breeze by this piece and never even know there is a dress under the paint. Most of my paintings hold some sort of surprise for those who are really looking! You will have to look closely though to see her name, "wallflower" is stitched along the bottom hem of the dress in black floss. This piece will show for the first time in Ann Arbor, Michigan at the "Original" show, here is a link to their site http://www.artfair.org/

Wallflower is 24" square.

Ideas

A question I hear over and over at art shows is "how do you come up with all these ideas?" It always sort of takes my by surprise, because I guess I never think I have enough. I am always building piles of new ideas, in my head, in my sketchbook, on scraps of paper beside the bed. They come in the form of photographs, scribbled notes, random sketches.

Walking the familiar route from studio to kitchen this past winter the buds on my dogwood tree caught my eye.



The contrast is what caught me, they tell you in art school that the human eye registers contrast between light and dark faster than any other aspect, even bright colors.

So I went in to grab the camera and made a few shots. All the while little birds were out fluttering in the chilly air. So here I was out shivering in the cold, while they were out doing whatever little birds do. And, well, I can't carry on with this thought much further without sounding like a complete nut. Suffice it to say I must have been heavily influenced by Disney's Dr. Doolittle as a child, I wish from the bottom of my heart that I could talk to these little creatures. In fact I do talk to them, all forms of animals, lizards, dogs, frogs, birds, even bugs on occasion, so I guess what I really wish is that they could understand, or even talk back!

So as I watched the birds, it dawned on me one was gathering bits for a nest. And I was simply cheering her on, "attagirl" as my father would say.

This is the second I've done like this, the earlier one can be seen a page or so back in this blog. The bird is a pine warbler, not the same as the little brown bird that was building it's nest, but a later visitor. And who knows, this may be a male, being such a bright yellow, but I'm still going with "attagirl." And if you need to see it, I have my artistic licence in my wallet somewhere!

Attagirl is 24" square and has sold!