Funny title for a painting, I suppose. It has a backstory. Perhaps I’ll share that with a buyer one day. Perhaps not. This 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas piece has details that include glow-in-the-dark pigments and glitter. It was inspired by a brightly glowing luminous round full moon and the shimmering waves beneath it one mild October night in 2022.
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.
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.
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.
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. 🙂
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.
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.
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!
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.)
A modest shift in lighting begets a very difference experience of color. (Gotta say, I’m enjoying these paints quite a lot.)
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.
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.
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? 😉
“Kuwaiti Oil Fires” 48″ x 20″ oil on stretched silk, 1991 was one of the last paintings I ever painted in oil. Soon after, I gave up oil painting in favor of acrylic.
I served on active duty in the United States Army. I deployed for Desert Shield. I participated in the ground war during Desert Storm. I will never forget the sight of the fires on the horizon, during the night, as we convoyed through a minefield during the start of the ground war, at the end of February, 1991. The terrible destruction, the ferocity of it, even at a distance – there’s no forgetting it. This painting hangs in my home, a part of my permanent collection, a reminder of what human beings make themselves capable of, and at what terrible cost it comes.
If we measure the worth of art by the weight of it’s meaning to the artist who creates it, this is one of my most precious works. It is certainly one that is heavy with the weight of its meaning to me, personally. I stretched the canvas for it myself, with the help of my partner-at-the-time. I used silk, in order to stretch it very tight, and for the exceedingly fine grain of the fabric. I prepared the canvas myself. I made use of unusual pigments, caput mortuum, asphaltic emulsion, and others now lost not only from the sales catalog, but also from my recollection. I painted it hoping, somehow, to communicate a moment, and an experience, to share the unshareable. It is a favorite piece with visitors to my home, and it struck me strangely, this morning, that I hadn’t written about it.
It’s very different than more recent work. It remains quite dear to me, and a painful reminder that there are no “do-overs” for some of the choices we make.
My recent burst of inspiration resulted in some fun work in glow, mostly pretty light-hearted. It was a gray rainy day, too, and the filtered light and overcast skies resulted in creating some sunshine on canvas.
“Irises” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas w/glow
This one results in a bright “moonlight” silhouette when charged.
“Irises” charged and glowing.
Spring flowers haven’t bloomed in the garden quite yet, but they bloom in my studio. 🙂
I haven’t been as artistically productive this year as I had hoped to be, but when inspiration struck I was ready, and that made quite a lot of difference for artistic ease and general quality of life. I’m glad you stuck around! There’s more to come…
“Gypsy Drums” 5″ x 7″ watercolor on paper 1996
Like it’s companion piece, “Gypsy Dancer”, “Gypsy Drums” is a small watercolor on paper that was painted on a weekend at a local renaissance fair, in 1996. This small piece was inspired by the dancing of an associate of that time, named Margrit, an exotic and passionate Armenian woman of great beauty. Shortly after these pieces were painted, I changed artistic direction and began to work almost exclusively in acrylic on canvas, in the abstract, and exploring mixed-media work. I have often found that between big changes in style or focus, I return to small watercolors, or pen & ink sketches to ‘get by on’ creatively.
“Gypsy Dancer” 5″ x 7″ watercolor on paper 1996
“Gypsy Dancer” is a small watercolor on paper that was painted on a weekend at a local renaissance fair, in 1996. I had made a major life change, and my artistic focus and direction often also change as a result. This is one of a handful of pieces of small relaxed watercolor sketches I did just before I dropped everything to work in bolder, larger acrylics in the abstract. This small piece, and the companion piece “Gypsy Drums” were inspired by the dancing of an associate of that time, named Margrit, an exotic and passionate Armenian woman of great beauty.
The Art of M. Elisabeth Howell 