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.