Squint

Pansy in Simon Teabowl 2 and 1

Attempt 2 at trying to marry everything I think I've learned
lately. Attempt 1 is below. I tried a second take because I
thought I was still too cautious with the first one.

Abandoned—Sold

Lonely building between the freeway and train tracks.

House on Madison

This may not be finished yet but I stopped to escape that "tidying up"
compulsion that grips me toward the end. The earth reds from the
underpainting may need to be toned down a bit, and the contrast
overall. I wanted to work on thick and thin paint, also to not describe
and define everything. I don't always "see" clearly what I've put on
canvas or I superimpose what I want to see on what's actually there.
It will take some time of living with this to get some distance and
notice whether I see it differently. Don't want to rush in and "fix" stuff
without a clear intention.

Towne Place

Same street as a previous painting, different reference photo . . .

Turning

One of my goals lately is to work towards an interesting surface quality which 

hadn't yet appeared on my radar. I've been switching subjects as an exercise 

that forces me to think differently depending on the subject, then try to apply 

what I've learned to the next different subject. It's helpful for someone like me 

who tends to approach things the same way when what I wish to do is change 

or see transformation. Since switching from the way I used to work to more 

representational subjects, I long for the freedom that used to come naturally.  

There's a balancing act to work towards and it's good to identify it, because 
it's not always clear what my goal is. I'm working on a nude now, hoping to 
apply what I've learned to the figure but am still too tight—still fixated too 
much on getting it "right" which my brain tends to translate as "rigid." I may 
just have to accept that until something starts to shift on its own. 

Downtown Sunday

I really enjoy painting these city scenes because they offer
so many variables and compositional relationships to consider.
With so much to look at, I'm forced to simplify and use a kind
of "shorthand" to convey the scene. I find it hard at times to
not spell everything out and these are great practice to enable
that mind shift. Hope to take more liberties and get braver
with the paint.

Downtown Bridge 2

I painted two other street scenes before trying this one again.
I wanted to simplify and orient towards achieving a sense of light
and abstraction. I left the trees out this time because I liked the
variety of color in the wall at right and didn't want to cover it up.
The things I admire in other painters' work, like different colors/shades
over a flat surface, I usually don't allow myself to do or I do it, then
smooth it out in the end. There's something about being faced with
a literal subject that makes me forget I don't want to treat it literally.
My perspective is off which is an easy fix but tackling this scene again
was a good learning experience overall.

Downtown Bridge

I was in my usual Sunday morning stupor when I realized that parking meters
downtown are free. Grabbed my camera, found a parking spot and walked
and took pictures until the battery died, 19 pictures later. Downtown San
Antonio is tiny and charming and needs to be walked to see the little courtyards
and pedestrian bridges. It took a lot of time to draw this and try to get the
perspective which kept my left brain so focused that my right brain just wanted
to scream "just throw some paint on it!" Well, that's good—maybe I can get them
to play nice together by letting them each have their way. I confess I was tempted
to paint in every vertical line carefully until I woke up and realized my aim is to
be messy. Long way to go but a day with even a little progress is enough these days.

Camp Street

Surrounding my small Victorian neighborhood are a lot of derelict industrial
buildings that are being revitalized or gentrified into fancy pants lofts. Not
sure why I hadn't been enamored of them before but suddenly they're very
rich subjects. And subjects that lend themselves to a lot of interpretation.
While painting heads I really feel the push/pull tug of trying to be somewhat
faithful while intending to not be and then I forget my aim is to make a
painting. The right brain/left brain thing. At the same time, I'm committed to
becoming somewhat proficient. So maybe alternating subjects is a way to
move forward? I felt no need to put in every window so maybe in the future,
I could leave out an eye or nose or a body part in a figure? Before signing off,
I just want to thank everyone who visits my blog and takes the time to comment.
 

TV Head 3

I'm finding it helpful to not worry about likeness because it
helps to forget I'm painting a head and remember that it's
really about painting planes, values and making color resonate.
And light, of course, but I haven't yet tackled that aspect with
any real focus. There's so much to learn.

TV Head 2

This looks nothing like the person I was painting but I was pleased that
I was able to lay the paint down without blending or massaging. That's
taking precedence over getting a likeness right now. My temperature
transitions may be too exaggerated but it was satisfying to see colors
and paint strokes stay fresh.

TV Head 1

I had mentioned on my last post that I'd been struggling with a
portrait to give as a gift (this isn't it) so I've been practicing
painting heads I photograph from the TV. I was too attached to
getting a likeness with the portrait and realized it was creating a
barrier to learning about skin tones and temperature not to mention
making my blood pressure rise. With the TV heads, I'm not
attached to a likeness so feel freer to play around, make mistakes.
It takes practice to shoot them so there's no moiré pattern in the
photo reference but they're usually beautifully lit, speaking or
otherwise emoting. This is the first one that feels finished, painted
in three layers, using zinc white for its transparency in the top layer.
No struggle with this and I'm hoping to get back to the portrait soon.

Melancholia

A change of pace. I've been working on a portrait to give as a gift
and it's been a painstaking process to get a likeness and still have the
paint look fresh so I switched gears and indulged in thick paint!

Morning Pansies

Pansies are so accommodating and such forgiving models. I can
worry less about accuracy and more about color relationships.

At Sunrise

I shot this at sunrise and the background was very dark—dramatic
photo with brilliant flowers but I had a hard time painting the background
as dark as it was—too much color in the black or the wrong temperature.
I've had to do a lot of trial and error lately with backgrounds to set off
colors in the foreground. It would be so nice to just "know" which value
and temperature would work. The plastic container also looked jet black
but when I mixed an interesting cool black, it looked dead and cold.
It'll be fun to have a few more tries with this and vary the composition
and colors.

In the Window

I paint everyday but not posting it all. I've learned so much from 

observation, but find myself obstinately wanting to over-ride what 

I observe in order to be more creative. My head is filled with so many 

possibilities of what a painting can be it's hard to see what's best to do 

at any given moment. The great thing is that I've become observant of 

everything around me—even when I'm not painting—people, things, 

the way the light falls—it's mesmerizing. 

When I'm painting, I try to be faithful and get it all down and end up 

with "right" but dull so I've changed my routine. I now start a few 

small paintings and a few larger ones so I always have something in 

some state of becoming so I'm not compulsive or desperate to finish 

anything. I'm no longer faced with having "completed" something then 

faced with the blankness of starting something new. My studio is too 

small to keep a lot of set-ups so once I get the bones down, the set-up 

goes down (or it dies or rots). And then I feel free to rely on memory or 

imagination or whatever the surface asks to be. I have 4 or 5 surfaces 

in the wings, so if I reach an impasse on one or lose focus, I can switch, 

hopefully applying something I've learned to another. It's oblique, like 

coming to a solution sideways, and so non-direct, but it aligns with the 

way my brain works. I still have frustrating days but think: so what? 

I'd rather spend my day doing this than anything else.

Big 'Choke

Still painting everyday . . .

Eggs and Glass

I've been spending more time looking at a painting, living with it
for a few days—trying to make decisions more thoughtfully. I painted
the rim of the glass the brown and yellow it was, originally, then
realized that it could be the liveliest part and wake the painting up a bit.

Flowers with Book

More practice with "less is more" . . .

Rambunctious

These were the most uncooperative models! I had started
this painting with another arrangement only to find they
had completely shifted overnight. I painted the rearrangement
on top of what was already there and focused on their unruly
personalities. It was an opportunity to practice leaving stuff out.
By the time I got to the flower on the right, it felt right to mix
the grays, then use a few bright strokes and decide it was enough.

Apples and Oranges

Trying to work on getting a more subdued overall tone . . . I think I
forgot the highlights. I toned the surface with yellow ochre, then used
viridian to block in the shapes and wiped out for the lights—trying to
get away from filling in outlines.

Cluster

Very thick paint and a mindset to leave out detail and not "pretty
things up."

I love Stanley Bielen's work and visit his galleries' sites often but
have never seen this one before:

Rose/Carmine

or this:

Yellow/Red Ranunculus

Bloomin'

Flowers have become easier since I stopped worrying about whether
they can be identified as the kind of flower they are. Then I could focus
more on color, paint, texture and composition.

Colored Bottles

Practicing coloring outside the lines . . .

Rose and Bud

Flowers are complicated but they're an opportunity to learn to simplify and
think in a different way. Painting them is also slowly showing me the

elements that have been missing in most of my work.

Couple

When I woke up yesterday, I didn't feel my usual drive to paint. 

But then the alternative would have been to clean house and there 

was no drive to do that! I needed a shot in the arm and had read about 

painting on mylar so thought I'd give it a try. The surface isn't that 

different from gesso but for some reason, it gave me permission to 

focus more on the paint than the subject—experiment rather than produce. 

When I look at this, it feels like I didn't paint it. Which might be a good 

thing to clear out old preconceptions about how my paintings "should" look. 

Thinking I'll use PVA glue to mount this to a gessoed panel . . . if anyone 

has experience mounting mylar, please let me know what works best.

Stripe

This was a fun challenge—because there are so many items and the
abrupt shaft of light, I could think more abstractly and not fuss too much
with individual objects.

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 . . . 

Tulips 2

Another go at tulips . . .

Tulips

I had set these tulips up outdoors to photograph because I feared they'd
die under the lights if I tried to paint them from life. I also seem to judge
lighting conditions outdoors with a camera better than I can with lights
and a light-box.