Painting in the relative darkness of an overcast and rainy day limits my ability to mix colors well or see detail. This is fine when I am a cog in the gears of my painting factory. Figuratively speaking, not literally speaking, and not speaking, but writing.
Never mind.
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Oops. I wasn’t paying attention to where the hanging hardware was on that one canvas. The redwood paintings are in the painting workshop because I keep thinking there must be a way to make them better. I haven’t figured out that way yet, and don’t want to mess them up while painting in relative darkness.
Two palettes at once, but primarily mixing and painting skies on canvases, and then laying them back on the table to dry because the peg board was full.
Shove over, redwoods, because the skies need your places.
I wonder what these will look like when the sun comes out. Probably will have poor coverage and need recoating.
Time to move on. All the skies I can cover for the day are covered. This citrus painting has been collecting dust and nagging me for 2 months, and it is time to address it.
Hello, Mr. Incomplete Citrus Painting (How is that for addressing a painting?)
The sizes and placements weren’t right. They still might not be the best. The detail will have to wait until I have this settled. That will require a sunlit day.
The beginning of painting a new series is a very boring factory-type assembly line of assigning inventory numbers, choosing titles, and attaching hanging hardware. Then all the canvases have to be primed, or “toned” in Art Speak. I just use whatever blend of colors I find in the bottom of my turpentine jar for this task.
Actually, before I begin the boring part, there is a brain-stretching exercise. It involves looking through previous years’ sales, seeing which subjects and sizes have been the most popular, looking through my existing inventory, and then making educated guesses about subjects, sizes, and quantities of each. Then I review my extensive photo files and make more guesses about what to paint.
These on the floor have already been primed from a previous ambitious painting session.
It was too loud in the workshop for Tucker. He’s kind of sensitive.
At least Scout and Trail Guy were in the workshop with me. Trail Guy was working on a project, talking to himself and to the radio and sometimes to me. Scout was napping in the sunshine in the window.
I ran out of hardware and out of room, so I walked home.
A little unfinished business here on The Blog: finished pieces you haven’t yet seen in their official photographic documented form.
This little 8×8″ oil painting is titled “My Geraniums”, because it is my geraniums, although they are actually pelargoniums, (but I’m guessing no one cares). Anyway, this is hanging in my kitchen. Ever listen to Bruce Williams on the radio? He used to say, “Everything is for sale if the price is right”, and I guess if you really really like this, you may offer a high price which I may consider. Otherwise, it remains mine.
This is a commissioned pencil drawing of a Silver City cabin, a Christmas surprise which I could only tell you about but not show you. Christmas 2018 is now history, and this drawing was given and received. Hence, you get to see it now. (“Hence”? Who uses that word? The Central California blogging artist, that’s who, but only while blogging.)
Sometimes I draw simply because I can, want to, and love to draw. Besides, it is always good to keep up the practice and to keep up my inventory. This is 9×12″, unframed. It could be for sale. . . And yes, it is the Honeymoon Cabin, a little one room museum in Mineral King.
Normally it takes about 10 minutes for me to decorate for Christmas. This year it took several days, because oil paint dries very slowly. This little 8×8″painting was begun to demonstrate some techniques for the secret oil painting workshop; I brought it home and finished it because I realized my decorating efforts could use a boost. I could have photographed it in the entryway of my house, but that feels like a fakey Instagram sort of thing to do. Fakey isn’t my style, as you may have discerned (although occasionally my vocabulary gets a little stuffy).
This finally feels finished. It was dry enough to photograph on a sunny day. Still mulling over a good title – Citrus Queue, perhaps? It is 18×6″, $175.
The poinsettia as an oil painting subject was challenging. One of my students requested that I demonstrate rather than just explain. That was a big “duh” moment for me. I should have thought of that myself!
I’ve been in workshops before where it seemed as if the demonstration was a waste of time. This is because the demonstrator/teacher/artist didn’t say why he was doing each thing. He would forget to explain, so I’d watch with no idea of how to make my own decisions. I did my best to explain how I mixed each color and why I added how much of which primary or white.
My demo painting is lying on the table on the left, with just a corner painted. It was enough help for this painter to approach her painting with more confidence than the previous session.
Good progress made, color mixing learned, shapes refined, blending techniques successfully used.
The color got corrected on 2 petals to a more satisfactory match to the photo. Matching the photo wasn’t necessary for believability, but it is great practice.
Great progress made on this one – petal shapes refined, color mixing and blending learned a bit more.
This one is closest to being finished, but knowing the painter, she’ll probably want to keep layering and perfecting. (She is the most experienced painter in the group and a quick study.) It looks a little pale because it is wet and shiny.
Maybe next year we’ll just finish all the incomplete paintings from previous years’ workshops.
Sometimes, in spite of feeling highly unqualified, I show a few of my drawing students what I know about oil painting. I’ve been oil painting since March 8, 2006, and yet I feel green as grass.
But, they want to learn and practice, and I want to share what I know.
This year they all worked on a poinsettia. I provided a stack of different photos, and every participant chose the same photo. What??
The flower shape was a bit confounding, although mostly forgivable. After all, who cares exactly how many petals (which are actually leaves, but who cares about that either?) are on a poinsettia?
I thought this would be an easy-ish subject because we worked mostly in shades of red. Because, who cares if the color is exactly the same as the photo or if it is a red that the painter finds more pleasing?
Nothing is easy when you are new to painting (or drawing or knitting or driving or playing golf or playing a flute . . .)
Wow. That session went quickly. Tune in tomorrow to see the process and the results of day 2.
I took three photos of these paintings so you could see the improvement, or was it so I could have something to say on the blog today?
The former. I always have something to say. (Have you noticed this?)
There was a problem on the far left. Sometimes this happens when I just blindly copy my photos. See how those 2 oranges merge into a somewhat visually confusing lump? After studying it for a weekend while it dried above the wood stove, I figured out how to repair it.
Decision made – change this into one large orange. And while repairing things, I straightened the line of the table. Used a yardstick – is it cheating to use tools in the Art World? Not in my little art world.
Almost finished. needs a couple more layers on some of the do-over parts, a signature, and a much better photograph.
I thought this would take much longer, but these colors are fun and there is a real freedom in painting what I choose instead of what might sell. Not complaining about the business of art, just enjoying some yippee-skippee time at the easels with these happy colors.
The colors are truer when I photograph it outside.
This might be finished. It is now signed, but while it is drying, I might find aspects that could be improved.
And since I am outside, let us enjoy the yellow leaves. I am so thankful we didn’t follow through on our first impulse when we moved here 20 years ago to get rid of the mulberry tree with its ugly knobby over-pruned knuckles. Instead, on the advice of the very experienced Gene Castro’s Tree Service of Three Rivers, (not a paid ad, just a statement of fact) we allowed the tree to gradually grow a large enough trunk to support its limbs through some judicious pruning.
It is the purview of the middle-aged to think that walks and leaves are great. (Don’t worry Little Grasshopper, one day you too will be able to enjoy these lovely and healthful freebies in life and be able to correctly use words like “purview”.)
As a pencil artist, with drawing as my first artistic love, a fun day at the easels for me is when I finally get to the stage where I am able to “draw” with my paintbrushes. This is considered a bad thing in the Art World; all I can think of to respond to that is that the Art World is missing out. So there.
But I am not missing out. If I persist, persevere and nevah nevah nevah* give up, I finally get to draw with my paintbrushes so that my paintings look like MY paintings and not something I picked up from an internet video.
This one still needs work, but now I can work on it without gritting my teeth and clenching my jaw.
SHHH, REMEMBER THIS ONE IS A SURPRISE.
What does this need (besides better photos with more visual information)?
Gotta** see those angles correctly, not drag my hand through the wet paint, and be able to see the tip of my brush in order to draw well.
Closing in on it. . . one more session ought to do the trick.
Tucker is a bit indifferent to paintings but would like to know if there will be treats soon.
Finally, I am pulling out all the stops with this one, painting it because I want to, not because it is a commission or because there might be a market for it. If is sells, fine, but if not, it will be exactly at home in my kitchen. There is no deadline, but I have to be careful to not lose momentum, lose heart and then lose interest. These are some of the risks to working alone at home, away from the Art World, but risks I’m willing to take.
Just living on the edge. . .
*This is something that Winston Churchill is reported to have said. He meant “never”, but being a Brit, he pronounced it “nevah”, just like Anthony Hopkins.
**”Gotta” is a word like “prolly” and “liberry” – fun to say, funny to write, and perhaps a teensy bit worrisome to the reader about the validity and authority of the writer.
I’ve shown you all twelve paintings at Anne Lang’s Emporium; if you want one and don’t want to drive to Three Rivers, let me know and we can work out the details (such as Paypal or a check in the mail, the Postal Service to you. . .)
“Creeping incrementalism” sounds like the frog in the frying pan. In the case of this Central California artist, it is the way I am currently approaching paintings. Maybe if I just paint in increments, telling myself along the way that I can just do a little and quit any time, then at least a bit of progress will happen.
Whattsa matta??
Sometimes I don’t want to paint. I’d rather be in the house knitting or in the studio drawing or in the yard raking leaves. If I approach work with the attitude of Just Do A Little For Now, then maybe I’ll get involved and forget that I don’t want to be there.
Why don’t I want to paint? This might be a question for a licensed therapist, or a life coach, or a sympathetic friend to figure out. Never mind for now. Let’s have a look at paintings that are improving in small creeping increments. (Creeping? Why this word??)
The Cabin Scene (shhhh, it is a surprise!) a commissioned oil painting
The sky has been retouched, the mountains and distant forests too. (The colors are a lot different due to the lighting on an overcast day.)
With a new photo of the cabin, even though the shutters were closed and there is snow on the ground, I was able to determine the placement of details.
The Citrus Row, which obviously needs a better name.
The background goes in first.
You can see that I am not locked in by the photo. And maybe you can see that maybe I should be locked in by the photo. Maybe just locked in. Or locked up?
Geraniums, because I like this
It has been so long since I began this that I forgot about the actual physical photos and instead was painting off my computer screen.
The power went out once, it was sort of too dark to see when it came back on, and I just started making things up. Prolly time to put away the brushes for the day, eh?
Today’s featured painting at Anne Lang’s Emporium (and these look much much better in person than on screen):
Sunny Sequoias #35, oil on wrapped canvas, 6×6″, $60
