Peeking into the painting studio and eavesdropping on conversations

Um, would you paint something  just for me?

You betcha! I’d be happy to paint something for you! What did you have in mind?

How about a pomegranate?

How about 3 of them? Then you can decide which one you like best.

Would you ever be willing to paint a sequoia in the snow, say, 8×10″?

Would you be willing to buy it when it was finished? If yes, then yes.

What about doing an 18×24″ oil painting from your pencil drawing of  “Redwood & Dogwood“?

I’d love to do that for you! What a great idea, you brilliant patron of the arts!

If you finish that 6×18″ painting of poppies, I’ll buy it.

Really? I knew that one was a great idea. (Thanks to my mailman for bringing me the photo!)

 

If you were to commission me to paint something for you, what would you request?

Painting the Primary Books Alla Prima

I added “alla prima” to the title today because yesterday we learned what it meant. A little review is good for the memory.

This style of painting has never appealed to me unless it is just WHAMO briliant.

Want to know why I don’t like this style of painting? Good question – glad you asked. It is because I’ve spent my entire life with myopic vision. That means if it isn’t a few inches from my face, it is blurry. Alla prima painting is BLURRY! The detail is fuzzed out, the edges tend to be indefinite, and personally, I’m sick of seeing the world that way.

Anyway, I digress.

After getting the yellow book painted,  I thought it looked plain. Boring. Lacking in detail. Fuzzy edged. Well, duh, it is alla prima’d up – that’s the way it is.

Nope, not in my studio, it ain’t! I put down the short square stiff brush (called a “bright” in Artspeak) and picked up a smaller brush that could be used for better edges. Not my best brush, because I was trying to stick to the program of being an alla prima painter. My best brushes squish to a nice point so I can try to draw with them as with a pencil. (Drawing with a paintbrush is considered a crime in ArtWorld. As I said yesterday, I am trying to be a law-abiding citizen of that place.)

What do you expect from a pencil artist of 30+ years? (time spent drawing, not my age, which does exceed 30 but by more than a single plus sign)

Sorry. Still digressing. Have a look at the finished painting. All the edges were wet so I had to hang it up and then the shadow from the bars of the window crossed it. (What do you expect when I am so darn rushed with this alla prima method??)

Then I went outside for a cigarette.

Just kidding! But if I was a smoker, that would have been a good time to smoke. I wasn’t able to do any therapeutic knitting because there was oil paint on my hands and I didn’t want to get it on my sweater in progress. So, I took it out on the blog.

Are you still wondering what the titles are? Any guesses?

Painting the Primary Books

After that last post I decided to paint the books. I carried them out to the workshop, photographed them in 29 different arrangements (yes, I counted), then decided to just see if I could slam out a small painting in one sitting (standing, actually).

Could I apply the paint thick enough? Could I make it look accurate in just one pass over the canvas? “Everybody else is doing it” – many of my painting friends, many of the artists whose work is selling on daily painting sites, many many artists paint “alla prima”, which means all in one session, wet-on-wet, single application with bold brush strokes. (that is not a literal translation – I don’t know Italian or Latin or whatever that is)

Here is the painting, step by step.

First, I mixed the colors (but didn’t photograph that step).

Then I drew it on the canvas.

I painted the background with the mixed color that passes for black. It is against the law in ArtWorld to use black. I try to be law-abiding. (But I want to know why it is manufactured if you aren’t supposed to use it??)

The common wisdom in painting is to go from back to front. That is why the background came first. The blue book is second because it is underneath (behind?) the other 2 books.

The red book sat upon the blue book.

And then it was the yellow book’s turn to get painted.

Nope, not finished yet. To be continued tomorrow. . .

Anyone wondering what the books’ titles are?

 

Repaint, refresh, restore

I painted a yellow pear and used a reddish background. It didn’t sell when other pear paintings did. I did some honest re-evaluating.

Here is the Before and the After.

Before.

After.

If you prefer the Before, please don’t tell me. I am not mature enough to handle it. Thanks.

Sincerely,

The immature California Artist

Reuse, Recycle

California artist recycles redwood trees into poppies.

I had a 5×7 oil painting of redwood trees in snow that I used to like. The longer it hung around and wasn’t sold, the less I liked it.

No problem. I have a paintbrush and I’m not afraid to use it!

Look at this weirdness:

Fear not. I have a plan.

But wait! There’s more!

Shocking, isn’t it? It will improve. I will show you. You will be pleased. (If you like poppies, that is.)

You Know You’re A California Artist When. . .

(with thanks to Jennifer at Jottings by Jennifer for the idea)

1. Your fruit paintings are done from just-picked, not grocery store fruit.

Plum II, oil on wrapped canvas, $40

2. You’ve painted oranges at least 102 times.

Oranges 83, 14×11″, oil on board, framed in black wood, $250

3. You’ve painted poppies so many times that you’ve lost track.

California Poppy, oil on wrapped canvas, $40

4. You’ve painted Giant Sequoias so many times that you almost don’t need to look at photos of them anymore.

Sunny Sequoias VIII, 18 x 24, $450

5. It is too hot to knit, so you paint your yarn instead.

6. You get so excited about red leaves in the fall that you have to paint them.

Turning Leaf II, 8×10, $80

    Your turn! “You know you are a _____________ when. . .”

    7 Warning Signs That You Might be a Color Junkie

    Blushing Pear, 4×6 oil on board, with easel, $40

    1. You notice that all the cars at a stoplight are the same color.
    2. You ask your husband to pull over so you can see if that wildflower you just passed is the same color as your sweater.
    3. You notice that 25% of the people in the room are wearing the same color.
    4. You ask the yarn shop employee if you can rearrange the clearance bins by color.
    5. You grit your teeth to keep from telling someone he is wearing the wrong color of green because he needs one with less yellow because he is probably a “Summer”. (Ever had your colors done??)
    6. You dig down in the stack of baskets at the grocery store to get the teal one because it matches your skirt.
    7. You reorganize the shirt rack by color at the local thrift shop.

    Anyone else have the courage to admit you are a color junkie??

    Maybe it is because I am an artist, or maybe because I am a California artist. Is it just me?? Help me out here, people!

    Colors, a post event list of thoughts

    1. What a confusing weather day. It was frosty out when I loaded the car, and I was just sure I’d shiver all day long.
    2. I set up in the direct sunshine on Wendy’s porch and was just sure I’d hot to death.
    3. Notice the spacious spacing on the display panels. What do you think?
    4. It was weird to weed through my paintings and figure out which to show and which to leave out.
    5. Many friends showed up!
    6. I met some new folks.
    7. Despite the counsel to drop pencil and focus on oil painting (from Those In The Know About Such Things), more pencil items sold than oil paintings.
    8. The pencil things cost less; is there a correlation between price and sales?
    9. Does Mickey Mouse have ears?
    10. Colors is a beautiful store/gallery/happening place, and this California artist is grateful to be in such a fine artsy place as Three Rivers!

    Mineral King Bridge Painting, Done!

    (Happy Birthday, Deb! Or was it yesterday??)

    When I was a child, my sisters and I had to say “May I be excused?” before leaving the dinner table. This was to signal many things:  we were finished eating; to give our parents an opportunity to review our plates; to teach us how to be civilized;  to consider other people;  to become accustomed to decent manners.

    So, now I say to my customer, “Please may I be excused?” This is because I believe the oil painting is finished, because I am civilized, and because I am never finished until the customer is happy!