Glads

Tackled flowers again which are not my forté but in the learning curve with 

figures, I realized I was painting thinner and thinner. Also dismayed at how 

outlined and rigid I was making them. Learning to paint a figure in an accurate 

way while holding an idea of how compelling it "should" look was too taxing 

on my little brain. If I'm getting nowhere in a struggle, thought I should do 

something, anything, different, tackle another subject. So I photographed these 

coral glads against a coral wall. And lo! I was amazed that there were no 

boundaries in the photo—nothing to outline! Kept assuring myself that I shouldn't 

be able to see the blossoms up close, only from a distance. Just what I needed for 

a tectonic brain shift! But then, I don't know if anyone else can see them . . . 

Sunflowers

A post at last! Finally completed and delivered the three paintings
that will be included in a group show opening 9/29. I found it hard
to switch to small-scale while I was working on the larger canvases
and hope to improve on that. One thing I'm learning lately is to get
out of my own way . . .

Jazz Apples on Pink

I spent all day yesterday obsessed with painting this and wiped it
off three times, then gave up for the day. I notice I'm in an irritable mood
when paintings don't work out. I get anxious watching my tube of
permanent Alizarin get smaller and on the verge of psychosis as more
cad red goes onto the palette just to get scraped and wiped off the panel.
But I couldn't give up altogether. Part of the challenge of these variegated
apples is trying to keep value and color straight. Started fresh this morning
and told myself to slow down, step back with each stroke and assess. Because
I tend toward swashbuckling strokes, I often obliterate good strokes/values/colors
and end up with muck. My other weakness is that I don't notice quickly what
I've done well for the painting and compulsively paint over it. I'm learning
that I can wield the brush in different ways and it doesn't have to be rapid
to be loose. And, I am actually capable of putting a stroke down and leaving
it alone.

Cherries

Cherries are challenging . . . there were only two that were actually red.
Trying to figure out what colors the others were was a matter of trial
and error and much scraping and wiping. They really challenge any
notion of what you think you know color-wise.

The Bartletts

My first post in a long time . . . after the last batch, I just didn't seem
able to paint a thing! I have been painting every day, working on a
larger format and experimenting with heads, none of which are post-able.
I learn a lot (I think) but for all the movement forward, there are lots of
steps backwards.

At the Beach

I needed to see how my foray into working larger translated back to
a 6 x 6-inch. I've learned a lot lately and it seems I've got multiple
personalities driving the paint but essentially, they are all me. I read
a quote on someone's blog attributed to Agnes Martin that she worked
toward seeing herself in her canvas. Maybe art is psychology . . . or
at least a mirror. I still can't judge whether the work is good or bad but
the great thing is that I'm excited every moment I'm in the studio. Right
now, I'm so grateful for that but know that soon, I'll have to tackle more
complex subjects and compositions . . . (deep breath)

Joined

This is the closest I've come to making a painting that feels like my
outsides are beginning to match my insides . . .

Two Lemons

I'm actually thrilled with this little painting! I painted the lemons last,
mapped in their location hoping to keep my mind on making a painting
rather than on painting lemons. I thoroughly enjoyed making messy and
non-sensical strokes and blotches for everything non-lemon so when it
came time for the lemons, it felt easier to not over-think. I've been working
toward putting down marks, strokes, colors that would serve the picture
plane rather than the subject for quite awhile. It seems it's so much harder
to do when working figuratively. I've also been looking at "messy" painters
like Alex Kanevsky, Quang Ho, Robert Spooner, Kim English, Jordan
Wolfson, Thai Shan Schierenberg. This painting isn't much but it feels like
a milestone. It's another step . . . forward, I hope!

The Set-Up

An 8 x 8 panel seemed huge! Still not brave enough to go where I
think I should (haven't identified where that is) but it was fun to have
a larger surface . . . seemed to help in making me consider the whole
painting and not just the objects. I've been trying to be conscious enough
to have one specific intention before I begin a painting, like for this: to use
many grays and just a few areas of bright color. An intention works as an
anchor if and when I start mindlessly copying or get too obsessed with
individual elements, I can bring myself back to what I intended. I fall short
but am beginning to see glimmerings of stuff coalescing.

Why do I always see the flaws once the painting is on the computer screen?
I should probably work on it more before posting but there's that precarious
edge where I could ruin one small good thing.

Espresso 7

A many-layered "thing." This was painted, degraded, sanded, built
up, scraped, some areas layered with transparent paint and Liquin,
and some with layers of thick paint. The intention was to use transparent
layers to achieve grays and contrast textural areas on the same surface,
finding and re-finding edges, hoping to be surprised by color and the
interaction of paint. There were some very happy passages now buried
in there somewhere . . .

Determined Self-Portrait

I decided I needed to attempt a different subject if I was going to begin
to answer my own questions. There are many portraits underneath this
one . . . all disappointing. In a moment of frustration, I loaded up a brush
with a milky color, liquin and Gamsol and washed over areas and suddenly
started seeing what I wanted to see on the canvas! It was so freeing to
obliterate all the hard work and not mind all the time spent on previous
versions. It was a way to let go of control and add that element of
surprise that I valued so much in printmaking. This is just another step
but one that opens new ways of applying paint. It brings me back to the
"search" part of painting which had faded while I was so focused on
a "good" result. Claire Christinel wrote a very articulate "translation" of
"paint what you see" in the comments link on my previous post.

Terms of Endearment 2

Almost the same setup and same intention to layer. Here I wanted to
position all items in the center so there'd be more space around them,
so less attention would be paid to the objects and more to the painting
as a whole. As I painted, the objects grew larger and again became the
focal point! Aargh!!!

I've spent what time I could looking at and reading about artists online and
realized that I am committed to working representationally but I'm not sure
if I want to paint exactly what I see. I'm wondering if "paint what you see" is
some kind of code? In looking at Stuart Shils' work, there are photos of him
painting outdoors with his rural or urban landscape in front of him. What
could he possibly be seeing that would miraculously translate into his
beautiful paintings? Stanley Bielen, too, transforms what he sees.
Catherine Kehoe, in an interview, stresses painting what one sees, and says
it takes her a long time to assess what something really looks like. And then,
looking at her work (which is wonderful), I wondered if she has some powerful
psychedelics we should get our hands on? Obviously, these artists have some
inner vision, an aesthetic sensibility that informs and transforms what they see.
In spite of my questioning, they must have started in the same humble way---
with simple observation. Just keep working, right?

Thanks to Susan Nally for pointing me to Bielen and Kehoe. And many many
thanks to everybody who checks in with this blog and comments!

Terms of Endearment 1

First attempt after what feels like a long absence from the studio . . . 
My intention was to work differently so I thought I'd try working in 
thin washes and let them dry before adding new layers. My hope 
was to leave some initial wash areas visible but ended up pretty 
much covering the entire surface, anyway. Trying to do things 
differently will require more restraint.  

Green & Yellow

The slight jump in size to 8 x 10 gave me the opportunity
to include more stuff but challenged every brain cell. It
was a good exercise to choose which elements would fade
and which would dominate. I wanted to paint great glass
but there was so much going on in the bottle it competed
with everything else. The bottle's shadow: those first few
strokes on virgin canvas were heartbreakingly beautiful,
but in the end, had to be sacrificed. Even when I figured
out what needed to be done, it was still hard to do it effectively.
 

Liaison Sold

This little painting was scraped off four times, each time because it 
was getting too precious. The goal was to be conscious about 
"coloring outside of the lines." With each scraping, I felt the point 
was no longer to get a decent painting to post, but to just keep 
practicing. I stopped with this attempt because it seemed . . .
decent enough to post. :-)

Tangerine 2

I painted again at the crack of dawn. It took a lot of fortitude to 
neglect household stuff yet another day but I held my ground. My 
mother is horrified by all that I leave undone. I realized a couple of 
months ago that she loves folding laundry and that she's agitated 
when she has nothing to do. So now, when there isn't a new load, 
I unfold what she has so carefully folded and bring her the same 
clothes, sheets and towels and she's happy for awhile . . . long 
enough for me to be in the studio for a few hours. It's ironic, our 
personal relationships with time: some of us have too little and some, 
too much. 


I can see that I've used brush and paint differently again . . . the way I 
painted yesterday and today are not necessarily what I envisioned 
or aspired to, but they document where I was yesterday and today.

Green Onions

No self-torment or suffering went into making this painting . . . I actually 
had fun! I got lost in the concentration, that meditative experience I recall 
from the past that has eluded me in the last couple of years. When I set 
it up, it seemed so complicated that I did a full value study in burnt 
umber over a transparent red oxide ground to paint over. It forced me to 
compare values from the start without color complicating the process. 
The only moments of angst were when I "came to" and thought, "oh please, 
don't let me screw this up." I photographed it and slapped it up here before 
I could start picking it apart. I feel like I'm on the right road. Thanks every-
body for your encouraging comments . . . the answer, as you said, is 
simple: just keep on painting . . .