Full/Empty

This is my painting for Jean Townsend's zen challenge
for STALP this month. What could be more full and
empty than oneself? It looks just like me. :-) I had fun
and may have stumbled on a way to handle paint that feels
natural to me. Must continue to work at it, but possibly not
too hard.

Teabowl and Apple

I laid down really thick paint on the objects and kept them small
to continue practice in eliminating detail. One needs to get really
good at value relationships to lay the paint down and leave it alone . . .

Apple Studies

These were done very quickly. The first (top left) is the free-est. It
appears I got tighter as I went.

Teabowl with Fruit

It's kind of ironic that after my big push to be more experimental,
this painting seems so traditional! Who's in charge here? This is
another handmade pot by Michael Simon.

Triangle

As I was photographing this and even now as I post it, I feel an
underlying itch to "tidy" it up. Every morning I spend about 30
minutes looking at artists whose work I like and they are definitely
not tidy painters. I'm thinking that part of developing one's own
vision is to trust what you respond to in others' work and become
accustomed to valuing it when you do it as well as you can. I need
to keep it around and get used to it until the urge to tidy goes away.
I do see my work as more lively overall: there's less concern with outlines
and boundaries and more focus on making color resonate and how it
relates to the entire surface. The cup is actually a strong gray-blue
but it seemed dull to me so I tried a lavender which perked things up
a bit. I feel progress---less fear in trying things that are not actually
"there" if they contribute to the painting, and more confidence in the
way I judge what I've done.

For anyone on a budget, I'm working on Canson mat board that I seal
with two coats of Liquitex matte medium. The paint glides on, there's
a canvas-like texture and it's archival. And, no need to mount it on a
more rigid surface for framing.

Apple, Cup, Orange

This really isn't what I intended for this painting at all but it was
coming together in a way that I was liking so I decided to forget the
"plan" and just go where it was leading me.

Little Lady 2

I've been working on archival paper sealed with matte medium so
I can have 2 or 3 starts of the same set-up to work on. Leap-frogging
from one to another makes getting a result less important and offers
more chances for exploration. Setting them aside at various stages
provides a delay and an opportunity to see each one fresh before going
on with them again.

Little Lady 1

One of my main concerns over the past couple of months is in
assessing my own reaction to what I see developing on my canvases.
It's sort of a schizophrenic exercise: look hard at the set-up, try to find
the elements of it that excite and serve to anchor a conscious intention
which will then inform the paint. That kind of intentional looking has to
be maintained throughout the process. But, then, so does looking critically
at the canvas to see if the marks you're making reflect your intention.
Not to work towards getting it accurate but to find something in the canvas
that makes me react to my own work the way I do when looking at the
work of the painters I love.

Looking in both directions should be all of a piece, united in one goal,
but it's so easy to go unconscious and veer off course.

Lady Apples

Nice to take a break from cups . . .

Cup

Still trying to get over my tendency to describe and illustrate. The
quest continues . . .

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.

Green-Rimmed Cup 2

Another go . . . I'm painting very slowly . . . I don't have  a
problem with being too tight or detailed: I like swashbuckling
strokes, stray pieces of color, painting outside of the lines.
But I am beginning to understand Kehoe's comment that it takes
a long time for her to see how something really looks. The
shadow side of the cup, for instance, looked like a gray-green
to me so I painted it as I saw it. But the canvas looked odd with a
greenish shadow on the same canvas as the cup handle which had
almost blazing red reflected lights and shadows cast by the red table-top.
It probably could have worked if I got the "right" gray-green and
the right color for the cast shadow so they would resonate, but I elected
to "purple-up" the shadow side thinking it must also be influenced by
the red table-top. Not sure if I'm seeing what's there accurately or if
I'm being tricked by all the vibrating color? With practice, I hope it'll
become more intuitive and go a little quicker.

Green-Rimmed Cup

I've been reading Ken Kewley on Color on Kehoe's Powers of
Observation site and he said one should begin with a color that
excites. I picked prussian blue which hadn't left the drawer in a
couple of years, and then tried to key the rest of the painting to
work with it. Also practiced mixing many colors of the same value
to get variety in the whites, variety in mid-tones and darks. I'm
trying to cure myself of abrupt value and rampant color changes
and learn to mix interesting grays so purer colors are more effective
interacting with them.

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 . . .

Espresso 6

Exploring warm grays/attempting to get a handle on "light." Almost
had a nervous breakdown dealing with the red reflected light on
the shadow side . . .

Espresso 5

Still experimenting, trying to find different ways to handle paint . . .
I had read a long time ago that part of exploration was to find and
re-find the edges and then recently, on a college student's blog, read
her account of taking a workshop with Ovanes. He had stressed to
keep the painting a wash for as long as you can---so contrary to my
habit of laying down thick paint as soon as I can. So, I'm practicing
both by not sketching the boundaries of the object and laying in washes
of values in the general area of where an edge might be. It's helping to
not commit too soon, to not get attached to getting something right while
freeing up a part of my brain to assess whether I like what is developing
on the canvas.

Espresso 4

Another step closer. For anyone wondering what my problem is:
I have a vision or a feeling about how I "should" paint. I want to capture
the essence of things without copying them. I've been on a path to
learn how to paint from life and finally decided I'm committed to it, but I
have an abstract sensibility. And, even though I haven't come anywhere
close to mastering the skill of painting from life, I have nagging thoughts
that striving for it isn't IT for me. But what is? How to reconcile the conflict?
If anyone should have a clue as to what my inner vision is, it certainly should
be me. Except it isn't. All I do know is that what I see on my canvases hasn't
been IT. I questioned the "paint what you see" mantra and found it was
absolutely true thanks to Claire Christinel and her very articulate translation
of what it means. It uncoupled some chain in my head, made me realize
that adhering to what I "see" doesn't have to have any limitations. I had
cursed my literalness but it was only me propelling myself into one narrow
tunnel. I've found that I can look closely and observe and simultaneously
invent.

In the scheme of things, this little painting may be nothing but it was pure joy in
the making. Not sure if I can capture the same feeling tomorrow but now I
know it exists.

Espresso 3

Another small step . . . which may be noticeable only to me. It may
get worse before it gets better. I had some nice effects about 30 minutes
before I called this finished but foolishly thought I could improve on it.
Among the repertoire of things to be conscious of, there's also
recognizing when something is fresh and know to leave it alone.
I feel so close to crawling my way towards a different way of working
but it still escapes me. The good thing is that I can't wait to try another!

Espresso 2

There are several others but this is the second I'm willing to post. There's
a lot to learn by focusing on one subject, one is that I've been too abrupt
in value jumps so am now mixing colors on my palette differently, each
value slightly overlapping the previous---it helps in not being tempted
to blend between values. Also trying to be conscious of varying the
thickness of the paint. I'm painting very slowly, pausing between strokes
and considering where I want to put my next one. Seeing this on the
screen, it's clear my color shifts are too abrupt as well. I still have a long
way to go but, with each panel, it's becoming more pleasurable to apply paint.

I heard on npr this afternoon that Jaspar Johns was awarded the medal
of freedom for his art. Johns was quoted as saying that he had to work as
he did, even if each piece was a failure, and accepted that he would likely
have a life of failure. That's a brave artist!

M Simon's Espresso

I've been painting this cup over and over and find it a very challenging
object. I'm not yet brave enough or can't quite get the right values for
the cool colors that are clearly in it or making the lit side bright enough.
Focusing on one object in space has helped me notice how much gray
there is in life! And, the need to be inventive in applying paint on the rest
of the surface. When I worked abstractly, I was paying attention to the
entire canvas so it was easy to see areas that needed a mark or stroke for
the sake of composition and I could do whatever I wanted, but working
from life, I need to respect the integrity between the object and the space it
occupies. This is the best of the series so far but there are more in the works.

Michael Simon Cups

In my ongoing quest to see differently, apply paint differently, it seemed
a good idea to use Georgia potter, Michael Simon's salt-fired cups as subject
matter. They are so unique with his hand and personality, I really wanted
to do them justice. So I looked and squinted and tortured this poor panel
with multiple scrapings and obliterations, but in that process, realized that
"paint what you see" is very different from "copy what you see." I still
don't have a clear path but there were moments and I want to go wherever
they're leading me.

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.
 

Winter Wicker

This is my offering for the monthly challenge for
Some Texas Artists Like to Paint. I wrote my commentary/
excuses there . . .

Tipping

Feeling a shift in the way I approach a painting now . . . no longer
concerned with details or outlines. It may be time to tackle some
larger canvases and see if I can carry what I've learned toward work
that's more concepted/intentional/realized? (I don't know). And, of
course, continue with small pieces as well, but possibly, see them from
a different perspective (which will also take a brain shift).

Happy Holidays everyone!

Heart to Heart

This is an older painting I'd done a few months ago but it was too literal 
to live. I saw it out of the corner of my eye on Saturday and thought 
what if I messed it up or just messed with it? I had already deemed it 
a lost cause so I wasn't attached . . . Sometimes it seems that playing 
a psychological mind game with myself is the solution, but I've been 
doing this now long enough to know that tomorrow, it won't be. I had 
done another like this earlier in the year and called it "Rescue" and 
wonder now if the title has evolved from a noun then to a verb now?

Gossip 4

And yet another panel that endured much scraping and wiping. 

The mush that was left from wiping turned out to be helpful --- 

suddenly I saw the painting as not 3 distinct pears, saw what 

should disappear into darkness, what could just be hinted at and that 

the pear on the right needed to dissolve into the background. I'm trying 

to "be b-b-b-brave," as Susan Nally says on her blog and work differently 

than I normally do. The goal was to lay in color and value without delineating 

and see if I could make the forms recognizable.

 

Claire Christinel wrote some bullet points on her site from a workshop 

she took, one of which was to turn away from the setup periodically. 

I used to feel like I was cheating when I did, but if I don't, I tend to be 

too literal and not notice what's happening on the canvas, the flow of 

light and dark, color relationships, where I want to direct the eye, ie.,

the "art" part. I learn so much from visiting fellow bloggers' sites . . . 

you give me so much more to think about and practice.

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. :-)

Broken Poinsettia

I've had such a hard time painting after doing the last two tangerines. 
I always seem to start out well, then somewhere along the way, I 
find myself spelling everything out.  Tried to avoid that here but may 
have gone overboard. I'm not sure anyone would know what this is 
without the title.