Eve on a Plate Sold

Depending on the angle, these apples have a Mae West "bosom" 
which seem impossible and they're very hard to paint. Something in 
me is still resisting exaggerating it enough to capture its true personality. 
I was going to abandon apples for a bit and paint something like glass 
which I have no preconceived notions about and no experience with . . . 
I would have to really look at shapes and values. My compulsiveness, 
however, continues to be drawn to apples. Sometimes that tenacity is 
good and sometimes it's good to take a hiatus and return with fresh eyes. 

Eve 1

I don't think I've captured Eve's likeness here . . . I tend to idealize things: 
people & objects into my idea of them rather than how they are. I'm working 
on that but it does bring to mind all the other things in other facets of my 
life that I probably endowed with qualities that weren't really there. Can 
I even be a judge of what is really "there?" As a painter or any kind of artist, 
are we creating or observing? More than likely, both, but I've listened to 
instructors say "paint what you see." I believe they're being honest but 
suspect they "see" with more than just their eyes. They've developed a 
faculty that the rest of us are just beginning to comprehend. I heard a piece 
on NPR about the deaf . . . that they "hear" through vibrations in their bones 
and even cells, that hearing isn't just a matter of functioning ears. Laurie 
Anderson experimented with this in the eighties.


As a junior in college, I volunteered to shepherd a freshman art student who 
was blind. She wanted to paint and I wanted her to sculpt, where I thought I 
could actually help in developing her artistic abilities. She insisted on painting 
which I thought was a waste of her time and mine. I think of her often---Naomi. 
I wish I had a clue then about "seeing" without eyes. I might have done a better 
job at helping her visualize the marks and colors she made on the canvas and 
helped her to organize them in her own realm of visualization. She was blind from 
birth, and it strikes me now that Naomi could "see" in her mind. Her 
stubbornness about painting had a wisdom I couldn't understand at the time.

Eve 2 Sold

Back to basics . . . wish I could take credit for this title but it's actually 
an apple from New Zealand called "Eve." I have two other paintings 
that I'll photograph in the morning . . . all the same apple on different 
grounds, color backgrounds. Realizing the importance of temperature 
and the need for green and other cool colors to make red be red.

Apple Gathering

I keep thinking I'm working really hard at this . . . then realize I put 
down a mindless stroke without even looking at the setup. Today, 
I decided I needed discipline . . . just kept bringing myself back to 
the task at hand---to look, squint, pay attention to relative values. 
I set this up to be fairly monochromatic to intentionally limit myself. 
There are things I've done well, but overall, I'm not seeing the surface 
as organized as I intended. The dominant value thing---how much of 
the surface is dark, light or medium---it ended up being mostly medium 
with dark and light contending. I may be value-dominant-dyslexic. 
I think I think too much.

Skating

I don't yet know how I feel about this painting because I'm still in the 
grip of the "Big Doubt." I wanted to post it, however, because I managed 
to turn my ocean-liner of a brain around and painted differently from my 
usual. Instead of painting apples, I tried to lay in shapes in dark, medium 
and light. The canvas looked more like a map than a recognizable collection 
of objects for a good bit of the time. When I worked abstractly, the thing 
I loved most was to make the surface "sing." Want a purple next to that 
orange? No prob. I find it much more difficult to impose that on this loose 
facsimile of reality. I don't have an answer to why I limit myself while working 
in this realm, but I do. I could do anything I wanted, create my own reality 
but so far, I don't. I did put that turquoise next to red and carried it through 
the apple! And I didn't disguise it or blend it. There's hope.

Hop On

Tried apples again this weekend and this was the better of the two. The 

"idea" was to get back to basics: use fewer strokes, choose complementaries 

for the set-up (red/green(turquoise) and yellow/purple) This has more 

life and vibrancy than the past two apple paintings. I think. I was torn 

between continuing work in a series or moving onto different subject matter. 

My problem with apples is that I believe I know what they look like so I stop 

really looking. I do see and put in the cool reflective shadows in lavendar and 

green, then my brain tells me "that's impossible" so I blend them into the 

warm colors. This time, I tried to leave them alone. What I need to focus on 

next is figuring out the value dominance thing Carol Marine talks about. While, 

of course, committing to fewer strokes and remembering to trust the colors 

that appear to be impossible. I'm also going to work on just "suggesting" objects 

instead of rendering them . . . something I always start out doing and realize 

in progress, that I've reverted back to being too literal and rendering.

Three Apples 2

Here I am working in the afore-mentioned series to compare one 
painting to another to try to determine the merits (or not). When I'm in 
this debilitating state of doubting my judgment, I'm hyper-aware that 
I could be starry-eyed like watching my little daughter in a tutu on stage 
for the first time and oblivious to the obvious. 


I've read David Leffel and Greg Kreutz's books and understand the 
importance of an idea in painting but I think my understanding of the 
word "idea" may be missing their point. Like in art class a thousand 
years ago, I equated "fat" paint with thick paint, not paint laden with oil. 
I don't know what my "idea" for these apple paintings is. Leffel and Kreutz 
write about a decision to paint in complementary colors or chiaroscuro. 
I haven't equated anything remotely that pedestrian with "idea" or concept. 
Idea and Concept are lofty words to me . . . like Soul---that mysterious infusion 
of feeling a good painting conveys. Of course, both Leffel and Kreutz do that 
very well while I still struggle. "Idea" was easier to grasp as an abstract painter. 
As a graphic designer, I listened for years to marketing people discuss 
"concept." They were talking about stats and demographics. Poor things, 
I thought, they don't know what the word means. It's apparent that words 
evoke pictures and the pictures I associated with their words didn't necessarily 
coincide with their pictures or their meaning. Well. In the end, it comes down to 
me . . . time to get down from my loft and try to figure out those words right 
here on earth and apply them to the task at hand. I want my real pictures 
to communicate.


If anyone is willing, I'd appreciate your take on this one compared to the apples 
2 posts ago . . . Everyone is so nice or kind when commenting on this blog . . . 
I truly am asking for feedback or constructive criticism . . . I hope for a dialog. 
I can take it. 

Surrounded

I think I actually like this one. For a surface of 6 x 6, the space seemed 
huge . . . 

Three Apples

I had a truly dreadful week of painting and scraping and wiping due to 
doubting how I see my own work. Not being able to assess what you're 
seeing could really drive a person crazy. Jean Townsend assured me it 
happens and gave some practical advice: work in a series, keep them, 
however bad you think they are, then compare to see which you prefer.  
The next step, I guess, would be to figure out what it is you like about 
the one you prefer and trust that as you go forward. 


I'm periodically aware that I often work with a conflicted mind: still have 
visions of painting like my heroes (the San Francisco Bay Area painters) 
and forget that I am not them. The goal, of course, is to find a way to 
paint that is intrinsic to me. It sounds so simple, but after years of looking 
at art, years of working in different ways and in different creative fields, 
I've got a lot of clutter in here.

Lemon Migration

I think I had a breakthrough! Although . . . I'm often initially 
enamored when I start working in a new way, then the inevitable 
doubt sets in. This morning, I took to heart the quote I posted yesterday 
and figured out a goal for this little guy . . . I wanted the yellows to sort 
of cascade and create movement. I prepared my tools like a zen calligrapher, 
cleared my mind of everything else, took a deep breath and tried to 
channel my inner Carol Marine. :-) I used loads of paint, laid down a stroke 
and wasn't even tempted to massage it or blend it. It felt soooo good. 
The title strikes me as inspired but if I accidentally stole it . . . :-( 

Diner Mug + Apple

Diner mugs have always held a certain poignancy for me. They evoke 
images of night owls, people who prefer a too-brightly lit space in the 
company of other solitary coffee drinkers over going home. Edward 
Hopper's paintings come to mind and his ability to portray loneliness. 
Also this artist who's drawings and sculpture I discovered in the 80s.
http://www.irvintepper.com/sculpt/sculpture


I lifted a passage from sixtyminuteartist.blogspot.com that I'm going 
to tape to my easel:
"Really work through your motivation for starting a painting—before you start 
mixing colors and drawing on the canvas—and stick with this idea throughout. 
Try to get that idea onto the canvas. When you step back from the canvas, 
ask yourself not if looks like the subject matter—but if it feels like it. Not if 
the drawing is good, but if the sensation is good."


I'd been assuming that if I handled the rendering, color, brushwork etc. the 
piece would somehow magically be infused with feeling. 

Whispers

An attempt to stretch a bit. And to animate the inanimate. I've learned  

a lot about space and volume, feel myself moving away from painting 

one object, moving on to the next, then finally, paying attention to the 

background or negative space. Instead, it's beginning to feel more normal 

to make marks over the entire surface and allow the objects to assemble 

themselves. That means laying in negative areas as I go. I painted this 

panel black and let it dry. The sensation of putting down light paint on a 

dark ground was a thrill--made me paint less carefully. I need to throw 

myself some curve balls--start with a different surface, ground color, or 

some outrageous mark and then respond to it.

Grape Snack

Another true alla prima! It's getting easier to not want to attack this again 
and repaint some areas. It's like getting over an addiction. The truth is 
I'm not sure what I could do to make it better, although hard-wired in my 
brain is the certainty, that if given another chance, I could do better. 
There's a stack of panels in my studio half as tall as I that are evidence 
that maybe I can't . . . not today, not from where I am at the moment. 
For right now, I will let this painting live as it is, focus on a new one and
hope it's a step in re-wiring. 
You alla prima painters already know this . . . it's still a process for me.

Stacked Cups + Apple 3

I keep coming back to the same objects and compositions 
because there are infinite ways to paint them. I marvel that 
the same medium and tools in different hands yield entirely
different results. With each piece, I try to be aware and 
conscious that I need to begin differently, be aware of each 
stroke and be attentive to how that stroke relates to others, 
whether in color, value or texture, but I always backslide,  
forget and revert back to old habits. Then the struggle begins. 
As an 8 x 6, this panel seemed huge! 

Taking Sides

I so seldom set up objects below eye-level but it's a useful way 
to circumvent that part of one's brain that thinks it already knows 
what it's seeing. I often robotically make the same strokes 
without really being aware that I'm not painting what I see. 
Altering the perspective forces me to really look. Changing 
subject matter to landscape or figures would probably serve 
the same function. Hmmm . . .

Stacked Cups + Apple 2

A retry of the same subject but using more paint and stronger color. 
Cast shadows have so much more color than I've noticed before. Also 
reflected light from surrounding areas in the object. I seem to be trying 
to marry my "swashbuckling" paint-handling to material objects. As I 
continue to work this out, my observation skills keep improving, not 
only of the objects in the set-up but the photographed piece on the 
monitor. It's really helpful to see it from this perspective. 

Stacked Cups + Apple

Well. Here it is finally---my first genuine alla prima painting! It took lots 
of scraping and wiping to make the cast shadow and the shadow on 
the bottom cup. I tried to slow down and work judiciously, mix the 
value right before applying it, scrape it off if it wasn't. The top cup 
painted itself . . . forced myself to make a stroke and leave it alone. 
Also had to resist my tendency to say "I can fix it later." The apple 
was a struggle . . . a week from now, I may have to renig on the first 
line of this post. :-)

Surprise!

Painting flowers, glass and cast shadows turned into quite a challenge! 
All the colors and value changes within the vase and the shadow. The 
cast shadow required a lot of scraping/wiping and re-evaluating and redoing. 
The set-up had a deep red backdrop but I was hopeless in making the 
transparency in the shadow relate to it while keeping the background pushed 
back. The apple came easily without my usual tendency to massage and 
describe and the area above it to the right was so much fun---massive amounts 
of dark green paint brushed one stroke at a time on top of already thick light 
paint. In the end, out of frustration with the background, I turned away from 
the setup and tried to concentrate on what the painting needed to organize the 
space. Is that cheating?

At the Dance Sold

Up til now, my intention had been to paint alla prima but without 
success. Some flaw always glared at me until I just had to rework it. 
With this painting, the initial intention was to apply layers after the first 
coat had dried. I painted the cherries in dark values and the background 
with mottled grayed reds, then painted the bright reds on top of the 
cherries and used zinc white (transparent) over the background for a 
veiled effect. So here's yet another thing to consider---the strategy 
involved in making a painting. I like traditional methods: glazing and 
scumbling and want to get better at those. And, I'm still determined in 
my quest to do a genuine, all-at-once alla prima painting. Will all the things 
one needs to consider, and when to consider them, eventually all become 
second nature? 

Salt Piper

I think I stole this title from Carol Marine. I thought it was original, 
but in looking at her older posts recently, there it was. As a graphic 
designer, I had to have copyright infringement insurance in case I 
inadvertently lifted someone else's idea. 

Sweet and Sour

This is a gesso panel that I so disliked, so I coated it with Liquitex 
gloss medium before painting on it. The paint glided on which I loved 
but I also realized that I should use more paint. Up until then, I had this 
mantra I'd learned in college about fat over lean. To me that meant 
thinned-with-turp paint in the first-go, less turp next, but it didn't occur 
to me that "thin" paint could be straight out of the tube. I've wasted a lot 
of panels using oils like watercolor.

Linked

In my so-far short foray into the arena of still-life painting, I had never 
considered texture. Duh. Here, I wanted to make tomatoes look shiny 
and translucent. I had always focused on the texture of the medium---
the paint, the ink, the pastel . . . hadn't linked it to the texture of any 
object I wanted to portray. There are so many elements to juggle: color, 
value, texture, dimension, space, making an object look like the object, 
making it occupy space, making multiple objects take their place in a 
composition: almost too many to hold equally all at the same time. For 
months, I was obsessed with Jacob Collins' and Abbey Ryan's work 
(I so admire their ability) but it's not my nature to work that realistically. 
It made me insane. :-)

Soul-mates

Just playing with color and edges and subtle shifts in values while 
trying to maintain dimension. At this point, I should confess that 
I still haven't done a bonafied "daily painting" as in alla prima. 
It takes me a few days to actually "see" what I've laid down. My 
guess is that since taking on the challenge of painting "reality" I'm 
too concerned with capturing individual objects/elements no matter
how hard I try to fight it. In my previous painting experience where 
everything was made up or invented, I would let the current mark/
stroke/color suggest what mark to make next until the whole 
surface started making sense to me. Now I set up real objects 
and light them and try to know them as I paint. Before, the whole 
point was about not knowing. I know the same mystery exists in 
this way of working and I'm determined to find it. Karin Jurick has 
a quote on her blog from Andrew Wyeth---"it's what you carry to an 
object that counts."

Tea-time

This painting, I think, shows the right-brain/left-brain struggle I seem 
to be constantly engaged in. I was pleased with the paint-handling in 
the yellow cup but got tight with the other cup and lemons. Somewhere, 
embedded in my psyche is the knowledge that I'm not painting objects, 
but rather, making a painting. Coaxing that knowledge to the forefront 
of my brain as I work is still so difficult! But I guess that's why we 
practice.