A Merry Time

This acrylic painting of the center of a poinsettia resides over my mantel this time of year. It was a painting I did purely for my own enjoyment. This was a completely foreign idea for me up to now. I've always been working towards a goal. So for once my goal was to make art for my own enjoyment. Need I say it- purely for decoration? ( Eeeeek !!! ) Each leaf of the poinsettia is the result of many sheer layers of color. While doing them I was tossing about ideas for the background. I was painting on a 30" square panel with a 2" cradle which was looking more and more like a box to me. In fact, it reminded me of a Christmas present. That's what I'll do with the background, wrap it in gold leaf ! Having never done leafing before, on any scale, it sounded just the thing. Read all the instructions, laid out my materials, and began. Now there's a window of opportunity when the glue is just right. It lasts about 45 minutes to an hour. Three quarters of the way through the process, I run out of gold leafing squares. That's when my husband found me going through the phone book like a crazed squirrel. I had found more leaf, but it was in the part of town where you can't ever find parking. It was 5:15 and they closed at 6:00. With a John Wayne retort he said, "I drive." As I raced into the art supply store, my wheel man circled the block. Once home I laid on the final metal leaf sheets. I had abandoned the directions and was rubbing the sheets down with my thumbs while bits of gold floated through the air. I have never had more fun. Just looking at this painting makes me smile remembering that crazy, wonderful afternoon. It is good to enjoy one's art. Have a merry one !

Cup of Kindness

This was the art I used for last year's Christmas card. Originally, this colored pencil drawing was the cover of a yearbook I designed. Yes, it's the same pewter teapot as "Arrangement in Red". It is true that a thing of beauty is a joy forever, not to mention a great prop. Painting the same object with different media always stretches the artist. It's a new puzzle to be solved.

Arrangement In Red

November is such a lovely month. The air is crisp and scented with burnt leaves and the first wood fires of the season. Winter coats are being dug out of the closest along with gloves, scarves and hats. Everything about November reminds me of jewel toned velvet. It is a time of year that also reminds me to have an attitude of gratitude. I do have so much to be grateful for. Arrangement in Red is a still life painting of some of my favorite objects. The red walls are of my kitchen and the cream and red toile that graces the table for special occasions. The pewter teapot the remnant of a Spring day I spent with one of my daughters. The serving spoons were a wedding gift from dear friends. The sweet red onion and little potatoes are ingredients in so many meals shared with others. My home is graced by family and friends. My table is set with blessings.

Another Day, Another Sketch

Sundays at our house have a special texture to them. After church, it's Prairie Home Companion on the radio. Sometimes we go out for brunch, other times we have big Sunday dinner in the afternoon. It is always social. In the evening it is curling up in a favorite wing back chair to watch Masterpiece on PBS. This night I had my sketchbook in hand as I watched a mystery. Couldn't help but think that sketching a scene is like solving a detective's puzzle. Each line or shape is a clue that leads you to the next clue until you have the full picture.

( Sketchbook copy reads: The two yellow chairs in my breakfast room are my homage to Monet's yellow dining room at Giverny. These chairs were castoffs that I found languishing next to a garbage can. Originally they were in my daughter's room. After she left home they made their way to the breakfast table after a fresh coat of paint. The seats are covered in a cream and black toile. Curled up in napping position is my dog, Cassatt. It is Sunday evening. I am sketching while watching a mystery. )

Kerrytown Sketchbook

The copy in the Moleskine reads as follows: Kerrytown is a Market place in the old section of Ann Arbor, Michigan. Fresh fish, wine, breads, vegetables & fruit are being sold in the stalls of the indoor market. It is Saturday so the Farmers' Market is in full swing just beyond the windows. I have found a table with enough space for a latte & my sketchbook. I am looking into a sea of red. Apples- all of which are perfumed by their freshness. I spend this rainy afternoon drawing & painting the scene.

In Praise of Moleskine

If I had to rush out of a burning building, I would be clutching my Moleskine sketchbook. It goes everywhere with me. Then there's the Moleskine notebook that I use for my journaling. Moleskines are nothing new, they've been around for a couple hundred years. A favorite of artists and writers, because they are relatively cheap. They are ever so portable, coming in a myriad of sizes, shapes, some with lines, squares or even blank. In the recent past the last of the Moleskine makers closed their doors, but like the Phoenix rising from its ashes, they are being manufactured again. The little black notebooks are easy to find. I buy mine at one of the large booksellers. After all, when you have an idea, you need a place to keep it.

"The Gibbes"

As an artist, I take a lot of pictures. Most of these pictures make little sense to anyone else. I think of them as reference photos. I was in Charleston, South Carolina and my aesthetic radar was having a wonderful time. Reacting to the architecture of a large white Victorian era building, I began taking pictures. Instead of taking one picture of a place, I like to take a series and then piece them together. The perspective is often a bit wonky, but the end result has a kind of energy to it. The resulting image always seems truer to how I experienced the place or subject. "The Gibbes" is one of those photo collages. This time I printed the images on aluminum foil. I juxtaposed elements of vintage elegance against the building blocks of creating art: color, line and shape. The resulting piece is intentionally whimsical and recalls for me that sultry Spring afternoon.

The Mad Scientist Struggles On

Ah, struggle, it is said to be beneficial to the human condition. I continue to be the recipient of these benefits. "Flora", a painting done in 1640, haunts my progress. Although, I did myself a big favor when I printed "Flora" this time, I made four copies. Thought I'd give myself four times the wiggle room. Oh and do I ever need it. Now printing an image on foil is pretty easy. Manipulating the resulting image into a collage or painting is an entirely different thing. I am just blowing through my "extras". But I do struggle on never knowing what's going to happen. This is both the blessing and the curse of working with an experimental media or technique. I'm in the grumbling, stumbling dogged pursuit phase. For every step forward, it seems like I'm taking two steps back. Even when I don't get the results that I want, I discover techniques that may prove useful in the future. That's if I can reproduce the effect. I'm not sure why something works one time and not necessarily another time. Is it humidity? Or is it dependant on the phases of the moon or a magic incantation that I've yet to learn? Maybe it's serendipity. Doesn't matter because I'm in this to the finish. So I'm going to put on my lucky socks and mumble an incantation or two. Wish me luck.

Failure = Success

I have already confessed to being overly fond of things that sparkle, glint or shine. So it was a given I would just have to try printing images on foil. Besides, it's pretty easy to do and ever so affordable. I use generic aluminum foil from the grocery store and coat it with Golden's Digital Ground Clear (Gloss). Cut it to fit on a piece of computer paper, taping it on two sides with blue painter's tape. Most important is taping the leading edge, keeping everything as smooth as possible. Less critical is the taping of one of the long sides. Now I'd like to say- just pop it into the printer and click on print, but there is this moment of sanity when you ask yourself why you're putting this in your new printer while remembering just how much it cost. So it was with sweaty palms and whispered prayer that I gently placed my prepped foil into the feed slot. I stood there listening to the most frightening crunching, crinkling sounds, but out it came in fine shape. I actually did five that day. One hung up at the very end without damaging the image, one had a skip in an interesting place, two were perfect and the last one, well...was a minor disaster. It hung up at the beginning and was munched up by the printer. It was the last one and by then I had relaxed and exhaled. My super duper printer disengages when you cut the power and has doors to reach through and lift out whatever gets stuck. I reprinted that image and it, too, was perfect. The images have a tin type look to them, but in full color.

The mad scientist in me started looking around for other applications for my new found skill set. I've been working on a piece that has a tulip as it's focal point, but it is actually about the great tulip investment bubble. In my research I stumbled across a painting done at the time, FLORA. (Note the two faced woman on the right.) Since the image was in public domain, I downloaded and sized the image to suit my composition. I had prepared and fixed it making it ready to be incorporated into my painting. But first I thought I'd use a rubber stamp buttered with acrylic paint over top of it. When I lifted the stamp it pulled away part of the image. Oh how I fussed. I felt like a child whose lollipop had just been snatched out of her sticky fingers. About an hour later, when the wailing and gnashing of teeth abated, I realized that if I had glued it to the painting and then it failed that would be far worse. Decided to go to the coffee shop. On the way out the door, I grabbed my journal and a folder full of Golden product information. While sipping my consolation latte, I found that I needed to use a spray varnish to fix the image and not the workable fix that I had used. Alleluia!!! Okay, this will work for me! I kept reading and saw another technique... baked skins.( Future post ) Needless to say I'm seeing yet more opportunities. All of which should be tested out before affixing to anything. Although it started out being a disaster it ended up being like Christmas.

One is silver and the other gold

A lifetime ago when I was a Brownie Scout we would form a circle at the end of each meeting and sing the following song. "Make new friends, but keep the old. For one is silver and the other gold." Being only seven or eight years old I found the lyrics puzzling. I asked my mother if it meant one group of friends was better than the others? On the contrary, she said it meant that both our old friends and our new friends were equally precious. It still seems that when someone or something new comes into my life I can be dazzled and distracted from all that's come before. I rather think it's a momentary illusion and soon things sift down into a harmonious perspective of celebrating the new while valueing the old.

I have been painting in acrylics since about 1975. In that time I have probably used every product labeled "acrylic". The mainstay of my studio has long been Liquitex which comes in two formulas. The tube formula has a creamy peanut butter consistency. The soft body formula comes in plastic bottles and has a heavy cream consistency. Both stand up well to being thinned with water, retaining its durability. I also love the wealth of information that's easily discernible on the label. Not only is it user friendly but it has proven its long term durability to me, which is no small thing. Until recently there were these great debates over the permanence of acrylics as a fine art medium.

In 2006, I was a participating artist with the OFF THE WALL project. Artists painted themed art on banners that were displayed on lamp posts in the gallery district. The banners provided were much like vinyl window shades with a rod pocket at the top and another on the bottom. They would be installed in November and stay up through the harshest of the Winter weather. I cringed.(Part 1 of 3)

One is silver...(continued)

You see if there is one thing that acrylic painters are warned about, it is cold. It seems acrylics can become brittle. I emailed Liquitex for their input. Their representative reiterated the extreme cold concerns and cautioned against the flexible support that would surely exasperate the problem. I had only one choice. Throw caution to the wind and go for it. I lightly sanded the soft vinyl to give it a bit of tooth and then primed it with Liquitex gesso. I used Gloss Medium along with water to thin the paints since I was doing sheer layers of transparent colors. I went several times that winter to see how the banner was fairing. It was just fine, however other banners began to crack and peel over time. The banner went on to another venue after that. It has survived vertualy unscathed. It's experiences like that one that insure brand loyalty. (Part 2 of 3)

...and the other gold (continued)

No matter how loyal a customer you are, when you go through as much paint as I do, you tend to pick up a tube of this and a jar or bottle of that. The beauty is that they are all compatible and they tend to "keep" well, especially if you remember to put their lids back on immediately. The only thing that was getting stale was this artist which is why I decided to attend the Golden acrylics workshop in the first place. ( Golden Opportunity ) I can't speak for anyone else but I am easily distracted by shiny objects. And there I was playing with paint that sparkled and shown. Soon found myself in an interference induced coma. Up until now Liquitex had been my meat and potatoes and here I was faced with Quinacridone Crimson cherries jubilee- flaming! I'll be honest, the Golden line is sexy. From the descriptive names and variety grounds to the digitalizing liquids, Golden whispered in my artist's ear of techniques yet to be explored.

I know the feel of Liquitex in my brush the way I know the likes and dislikes of my best friend. Golden has a different feel, especially the Open series. I would think oil painters in particular must like this. I noticed that with watering a color to the extreme Golden is more fragile a bond than what I'm use to with Liquitex. ( I know, you're not supposed to do that but I'm spoiled.) During the workshop an artist expressed her dilemma over not being able to purchase a particular color anymore. This worried me. I fear getting too fond of a color and in the future being told it's no longer available. All this said, Golden makes a gorgeous and exciting line. One that is refreshing a veteran painter's horizons. With Liquitex and Golden I join another circle and dream of the possibilities of what is yet to be. Make new friends, but keep the old. For one is silver and the other gold. (Part 3 of 3)

The Deathless Masterpiece

I first heard the term "deathless masterpiece" as an art student. In fact the instructor who introduced the term to us, would routinely say that what we were working on wasn't a deathless masterpiece. He was giving us permission to lighten up. There we were with our little fledgling artistic egos trying, ever so hard, to impress. What we really were there to learn was how long we were going to be bad at what we were doing. We had yet to make our mistakes so we could learn from them. It's the only way to make a technique or media your own.

For the past three years I've been working in pastels. Edged out of my studio by renovations, I'd hit the road with my field kit. At this point when I pick up a certain color, I know before it touches the surface of the paper what I can make it do. Each media is like a language. To become fluent, you have to immerse yourself in it, sound funny, be giggled at & corrected. But there comes the day that you converse & express yourself gracefully. Before pastels, I was working in acrylic and before that watercolors. There was a point at which I was floating watercolor in acrylic gloss medium and glazing over acrylic in paintings. Although it's probably apt to be fugitive, the technique does give an "old Masters'" glow to a sunset. One day a reporter came to my studio to interview me and noticed reference photos on my drawing board. She kept looking over at them and then asked who took them. This seemed like a trick question, too easy- I did. She commented that they were good. I knew that, but that was the last thing I needed- another media!

It was with great trepidation that I went to the Golden Workshop. (Golden Opportunity 3/23/09) Coming out of the workshop I thought, well that was fun but none of this fits with what I'm doing now. There was this one sample board..., and I just wanted to see what I could do with it..., and well yes..., I was off to the races. (Mixed Media Merriment 4/6/09) I was placing my order for dimensional paste, crackle medium and digital ground. Suddenly I was creating texture to be glazed with acrylics and overlaying them with pastel to enhance every ridge and bump. Like a mad scientist, I made acrylic skin and fed it through my ink jet printer. Those images are then collaged into the piece. I am miles from my comfort zone. This is the dark side of the moon. I keep thinking as I work, next time I'll do this or that differently. There is no image with this post because I haven't produced the "deathless masterpiece". I have to be bad at this for awhile, but sometimes it's good to be bad.

Plein Air Season

I am packing my supplies to go plein air painting tomorrow. It will be "opening day" for the season. Artists from all over the region will converge on a particularly beautiful site. Like bears leaving our winter dens we blink at the sunlight and sniff the air. Plein air is a multi-sensory situation. It is also a very social exercise for artists that spend most of their working life in isolation. We will be at the same place where I did "Summer Residents" which is a pastel painting. That day I was working alone... or at least I thought I was alone. Several geese came up on the bank and stood around me as I painted. I found it amusing how close they came to me and how still they were as if to not disturb my work. The ducks on the other hand were a study in frenetic activity. The geese slyly showed their disapproval of the unruly neighbors. This is how we spent a lovely Summer's afternoon together, my feathered friends and I. You see that's the thing about working plein air. There's always a story that goes with the image.

May Flowers

Rain and flowers just seem to go together just as wonder and enchantment does. This acrylic painting began one rainy Spring day when my oldest daughter was seven. She loved walking in the rain and picking wild violets that dotted the lawn. As she climbed the steps a look swept over her face. It spoke of childhood whimsie and enchantment. I knew that one day I would paint this scene. "Phoebe and the Rainy Day Violets" is dedicated to all of us that have retained some part of the wonder of childhood. Those of us who know that somewhere out there, under a leaf, lies a treasure if only we look for it.

Hot Time In The City

This week was our second annual "...magical, mystery tour" to Chicago. Five of us boarded the train early Monday morning having packed our enthusiasm along with our sack lunches. We look forward to this day each Spring. This year was the Edvard Munch Show. I was eager to see the return of the Impressionists and scope out their new gallery. Oh, and Georgia Keefe's "Sky Above Clouds IV" is back. Since construction continues, the Chagall windows haven't been reinstalled. These artists' works have been so much of my life that they feel like family.(Part 1 of 3)

Hot Time In The City (continued)

On the second floor under the sky light of the Grand Staircase are architectural elements taken from significant buildings before they were demolished. My grandfather was a talented carpenter and cabinet maker who worked on buildings from White City (1893) to St. Peters Church in the 1950's. I always wonder if any of the carved elements on the wall where done by him.
I see the worn areas on the marble steps and remember walking them with my parents. Today my youngest daughter has met me at the museum and we walk down those same steps together. (Part 2 0f 3)

Hot Time In The City (continued)

At the end of the day I took this picture at the entrance looking out into the city. I remembered as an Art student scrambling out to catch the commuter bus after classes. I must admit to becoming teary eyed thinking about that young woman with her dreams and wishes.
The "Ya-Ya Sisterhood" boarded the train for the return trip. We become the party car, mingling and making friends along the way. That's when I knew what happened to my young dreams and wishes. I'm living them! I'm living them out among these bright, warm, wonderful women that I'm lucky enough to call friends. (Part 3 of 3)

My Favorite Cafe

There is a wonderful place in town. It's family owned and aptly named My Favorite Cafe. The place swims with ambiance from it's exposed brick walls to the gleam of the 19th century floor boards. I am always welcomed by one of Laura's smiles and Brian asking if I want "... the usual?" The aromas are amazing with scones baking and panini toasting on the grill. I refer to it as "the office". Since my studio is attached to my home there are times I need to find another four walls to be in. Over the years I've done several sketches there while swilling my expertly made lattes. This mixed media sketch was one done of the refrigerated show cases and their gooey wonderful contents. Talk about eye candy!

This piece has been donated for auction to the Circle of Art sponsored by The Picture Frame Company. Proceeds from the auction go to Food Gatherers to feed the hungry. To go to their online auction link for more information, go to www.salinepictureframe.com. then go to the Shop By Category box on the left. Click on 2009 Circle of Art. I believe this piece is on page 13 under the title, "My Favorite Cafe". All this talk about the cafe has made me thirsty. Time to go get... "the usual".

Mixed Media Merriment

Two weeks ago I blogged enthusiastically about the Golden Acrylic workshop. In the photo that accompanied it were some sample boards that had been provided for that day. On the right in the background, notice the blue panel. Well this is what has become of it. It started off as crackle paste over a red background. I added the Phthalo Blue (Green Shade). During the time since the workshop I have added bits of metal leaf, sanded, glazed and pressed light molding paste through lettering stencils. I've been having a merry old time all the while dreaming of other pieces I will do with these techniques.

After Millet

I was perusing the December 2007 issue of "The Pastel Journal" when I came across the picture of "Narcissus and Violets" by Jean-Francoise Millet (1814-1875). Being rather new to the medium of pastel at the time I was fascinated by the strokes of color and began to ponder how he did this, which lead to the idea that I should copy the work and learn from it. Copying is a time honored teaching tool in the visual arts. The ideal would be to be face to face with the original while working on the copy, but the magazine image would do nicely. I cut a piece of clear Mylar and with my trusty Sharpie I drew a grid. When I was finished I placed the grid over the picture. I then made a corresponding grid with pencil on a piece of cold press watercolor paper. I decided to do an 8" X 10" copy instead of a full sized 16" X 20" drawing. From the start the experience was both challenging and exhilarating. At more than one point I was thinking of giving up on the project. I struggled on. When I did come to the finish I realized I learned so much from the doing of it. Standing in the masters footsteps so to speak. Recently I found a frame that will suit this little piece. On this Spring day as I hang my framed study on the wall, I can't help but think that what Millet saw that Spring day in 1867 is somehow reflected into my life- my art . Mercie, Monsieur Millet.

Golden Opportunity

This weekend I had the opportunity to attend a Golden Acrylics Workshop given by Valerie Allen. It was held in the Art department space of a local high school. That in itself was nostalgic for those of us who have spent a good deal of our lives balancing on a stool at long shared tables. At each place, like presents under a Christmas tree, were samples, color charts and product information. Valerie had prepared several boards and images for us to experiment with different techniques. Artists, by nature, seem to be people with generous spirits who love to communicate. Soon the interaction began, "...Wow, how'd you get that effect?...Really? When you water it down is does that?..." I was initially surprised at how many people had been to this workshop before, but now I know why. I'll be at the next one. Think I'll bring a friend. If there's a Golden Acrylics Workshop happening near you, don't miss what is indeed a golden opportunity.

I never saw a cloud I didn't like

What probably began as that childhood game of finding shapes in fleeting cloud formations has led to an ongoing love and the desire to paint them. I've been challenged by each media I tried to capture them in. With watercolor it was the sheer layering and with acrylic it's the speed at which one blends before the surface goes all sticky like marshmallow fluff. I have an entire file devoted to photos I've taken of clouds. One day it occurred to me why it is that my photo references never come close to the real thing. Clouds are- A I R ! The entire sky for that matter is telling us of the atmospheric drama that is being played out at differing altitudes. They are not things that can be touched, only perceived. That was probably the day I got my artist's psyche around the idea of what a cloud is. Now I paint clouds with pastel, an opaque medium which presents an entire new set of challenges. Oh, but it's worth it because now I do touch the sky. And what else is the sky and it's lovely dancing clouds but the under side of Heaven?

At the Conservatory

It's no longer Winter, but it isn't quite Spring. It's raining, not snowing. In the air there's that hint that warmer days are almost here. Almost. My eyes long for green lushness. The perfect time to go to the conservatory at the botanical gardens. This pastel sketch was done under the cocoa tree while the hydrangeas were blooming. The other under plantings are ivy, rosemary and a bit of blooming cyclamen. Oh, yes it will be Spring soon. For now this will do.

Happy Birthday Reverie

As I enter my studio each morning, almost the first thing my eyes land on are my pastels. They are neatly arranged by softness and purpose. I truly love each and every brightly colored stick. Today, I take a box that is kept on a shelf and smile remembering that other morning. It was my 12th birthday and this box was sitting on the table next to the orange juice where my cereal bowl should have been. It was the gift from my parents. Opening the well worn lid I read, M. Grumbacher, Set No. 34, General Assortment, 40 Soft Pastels. This box and it's contents filled the best of my young years. It went off to college with me and was eternally off limits to my hop-scotch playing children. It's still in amazingly good shape, all things considered. Most of the original pastels have worn away with use and been replaced. Looking at them now I can't but wonder if there aren't a few specks of the original inhabitants that greeted me that morning half a century ago. The sight of them had spoke to me of dreams and wishes, beauty and endless possibilities. They still do.

My neck of the woods

This is a recent Pastel, "Winter Parlour" which is 9"x12". During the time that it is too cold to paint outside, I do interior "landscapes". This one is of my favorite south facing corner. The view from the window says all there is to say about February in a northern border state.