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California Poppies & Summer Sunshine

I recently went wild re-organizing my studio. During the pandemic my studio has also served as my office (as is the case with many artists, I have a “regular” job to keep things steady), and working from home has turned out so splendidly that it’s become a professional preference and a lifestyle. I was overdue to put real thought and permanence into how my working space is arranged. With that done, I have also found myself feeling more inspired. Feels good. I’m hoping to make a more regular practice of posting here, new work as it comes, and also getting some of the older work uploaded and made available for sale.

Yesterday I spent time painting and thinking about my “workflow” in my studio. I finished one small piece and started a couple others. It feels good to be back in the studio. The feeling of joy and creative energy hit the canvas as “California Poppies & Summer Sunshine”, a small 6″x6″ acrylic on canvas, with glitter and glow. I’ll photograph this piece again with other light sources once it has completed dried (there is a lot of glow on this one).

Small piece, small picture. “California Poppies & Summer Sunshine”, 2022

This small piece is intentionally playful. It’s been a lovely summer, and feels worth a little celebration. That’s what this piece has in mind. The smaller image above is intended to provide a perspective a bit more like walking past it (hanging in a corridor, perhaps). If you’d like a closer look…

Closer image showing glitter details. “California Poppies & Summer Sunshine” 2022

I’ll update this post with the glow-in-the-dark charged up, later this week.

Incomplete, Unfinished, Work-in-Progress

I’m in the studio working on unfinished projects and new work, on this last day of 2021. Seems a good way to mark the end of one year, the transition to the next, as much as anything is. It’s rare for me to hold on to unfinished work long – most pieces are finished within a few days, at most. One or two, over some 40 years as a painter, have lingered months (even years) before finally being finished. Complex work, sometimes, other times it’s been more about a change of context, circumstance, or emotion, that stalls the work and then, more rarely, it becomes lost in the noise of a busy life, forgotten until discovered some time later.

Ending the year in the studio.

Currently, I have 14 unfinished canvases, in various stages of completion, and the oldest of these is a piece I began back in 2015 (a self-portrait). 6 years later, and I am still not ready to finish it (I may have missed my moment on that one). The rest of them are a mixed bag of lost inspiration, technical challenges I haven’t solved yet, and “what the fuck-ery” (where the piece somehow just isn’t coming together as I envisioned, and I haven’t sorted out what to do to recover the piece in some other way).

I hope to end this year here in the studio, in some productive fashion. I hope to begin the new year also here in the studio, productively, looking ahead with new vision. I don’t really do “resolutions” to celebrate the new year. This next year I do hope to post more of my work here, make more of it more easily available, and give a little more time and attention to the craft of the business of art.

I cue the next track on this playlist and get to work.

Stormy Weather

Time spent in the studio, painting, seems to pass quite differently than any other time. New work drying on my work table, on counters, on bookshelves, and as they dry, joining the stacks of other pieces, completed, not yet sold. Very satisfying.

One recent work (Hints of Autumn) sold almost before it had completely dried, to a friend who has collected several pieces over the years. Also very satisfying – although even after so many years, I often find selling my work rather difficult; it means letting the sold pieces go. Somehow that’s still hard for me – they’re part of who I am. They speak for me when my own words are not enough.

One new piece continues to fascinate me, and each time I see it in new light… I “see it in new light” figuratively, as well as literally.

“Stormy Weather” 8″ x 10″, acrylic on canvas, 2020
Same piece, different light source. This is a painting that will do well in a location where the light varies throughout the day.

This particular canvas was painted around the same time as “Ship of Dreams” and “Nalla Was Here”, earlier this year, on a moody weekend fraught with romantic stress, during a pandemic. The physical experience of painting, for me, is often one of very soothing motions, allowing the act of painting itself to become a sort of meditation. “Feeling the strokes” as I work is one reliable way for me to “get out of my head” and back into my body, and to be more present in my experience. This particular work was supported by bass-heavy EDM tracks (mostly trap and house music), and was painted with Arteza acrylics (a departure from my long-time Liquitex and Pebeo selections). I’m enjoying the texture of these acrylics, which have a consistency of room temperature butter on a warm day – not quite molten, almost liquid. (I generally use heavy body paints, which is particularly useful for the sort of 3D mixed media pieces I often create, so the flow of the Arteza paint is quite a change!) I’m not held back by brand loyalty with regard to paint; I use what works for the piece I have in mind, or create based on the materials available. πŸ™‚

From Summer into Autumn

I’ve been getting more time in the studio, but spending less on the computer. New work is piling up, unshared!

Summer very much felt worth celebrating, and there were some stunning moments that seemed to sparkle with joy.

“Summer View” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas w/glow & glitter, 2021

The time slipped away so quickly… and just this past weekend, I found myself noticing hints of Autumn here and there, on my walks, and as I ran my errands. Time spent in the studio hints at those hints.

“Hints of Autumn” 10″ x 14″ acrylic on canvas w/glow, 2021

Happily, time in the studio is increasing as I become more settled in my work and home routines in this new place. More to come!

Dreams and Memories

New work and work in progress. The new studio space suits me. As the holidays approached, I thought a lot about dreams, and memories. Two new pieces developed rather spontaneously from those thoughts, and the delightful new Rosemary & Co brushes, and new paints, that I got as a holiday gift this year.

I consider this first one to be the “proper” first piece to come out of the new studio. “Nalla Was Here” was painted from a perspective of thinking over long-remembered places I haven’t seen or visited in many years, and the way time sort of “smooths over” some of the details. A friend I shared it with exclaimed when she saw it, taken by a similar sense of familiarity and remembrance. (This piece is not for sale.)

“Nalla Was Here”, 8″ x 10″, acrylic on canvas (photographed using flash).

A modest shift in lighting begets a very difference experience of color. (Gotta say, I’m enjoying these paints quite a lot.)

“Nalla Was Here” photographed in indirect natural light, no flash.

I started two other canvases that day, but finished neither of those. I’m okay with it. The luxury of having dedicated space for creative work allows me to slow things down and really take some time. So much so that I’ve been re-exploring watercolor recently (the miniatures I did in September were in watercolor), and this next piece, which I painted this week (Monday?), was an opportunity to give new gouache paints a try. “Ship of Dreams” is another 8″ x 10″ piece, and is inspired by contemplation of dreams and dreaming.

“Ship of Dreams” 8″ x 10″, gouache on canvas (photographed with flash)

This is another piece that changes quite a lot depending on the light source. In indirect natural light, it has a dreamy dawn-scape look.

“Ship of Dreams” in natural light (no flash)

I’ve been fairly dreadful about keeping up with this blog – missed all of 2019, I think, (which was a relatively creative year) and most 2020. I’ll make a point to reflect on work created in that time frame sometime… soon…ish? πŸ˜‰

Time

I could say “my how time flies” and it would be an appropriate observation, if a bit trite and worn out. It’s true, though, whether painting or not painting, living busily or staying home during a pandemic, the time since I last posted has been full. Since my last post (two years ago), I’ve moved (again), and have a(nother) new studio to work in. I just got moved in, actually, and I’m facing my first creative project since the move.

For tedious real-life practical reasons to do with dry wall, flooring, and contractors still needing to get work done, I’ve been finding myself a bit stalled…

My big easel stands tucked back out of the way, waiting for other days, other creative impulses.

This new place inspires me and I feel moved to paint, regularly. It’s not yet time to haul out all the supplies for larger acrylic or mixed media work, and I found myself frustrated – until my stepson dropped in for a visit. He and his father are spending time together in my partner’s woodworking shop, and while I was hanging out chatting, watching, and handling various bits of scrap wood, admiring the various textures and grains, a more specific inspiration struck me – one that allows for us to work together, collaboratively, as a family.

Tiny wood “canvases” waiting for color.

We discussed the wee pieces of oak, and the vague images suggested by the grain of the wood, and the texture of some ragged edges, the result of being a bit aggressive with a plane (new skills take practice). My stepson built the tiny stand up easel. My partner shaped the pieces to make them square, and added a stand to one of them. Now it is my turn to complete the process of bringing these tiny souvenirs of my stepson’s stay to life as miniature art. It’s time for color. πŸ™‚

It’s not a serious change of artistic direction, or any sort of large project or new series, just a sweet diversion as summer becomes autumn, a way of settling into the new studio gently, and a moment to connect creatively with my partner and his son. It gets me back into the studio following the move. A fun little celebration of the real joy to be had in creative work, too.

There’s been plenty of new work to document here. I’ve been slack about it. Better habits ahead, perhaps. πŸ™‚