Having come a tad late to the painting party my process and palette have evolved from a rather spotty beginning. Well over two decades passed between those mid-70’s intro to color classes in college and the decision to paint full time at the beginning of this century.
Today I use a pile of disposable waxy palette sheets tucked into an old plastic watercolor box. It thoroughly offends my aesthetic senses but it does the job nicely when it comes to the daily rituals of setup and cleanup.
I have six drawers full of oil paint tubes. Most of them are Old Holland colors but along the way I have tried many others and if it gets reordered once…it’s a favorite. The main players change depending on the subject matter but for the most part the palette is arranged chromographically (a word ?) by hue.
The medium I use is Fine Detail Liquin and I use so little of it that even the smallest caviar jar dries out before it is emptied. (Notice how I dropped that fancy culinary delectable in there ?)
That tiny jar along with two former artichoke jars half full of odorless turp sit next to the palette and the brushes…well they surround.
A while back I took some progressive shots of the palette as I worked through a painting for the Granary Gallery show this summer. I typically use one palette for the entire painting unless I’m working on a mammoth panel and then I go through many palette changes. For this painting, I kept the same one going and you will be able to see subtle changes from day to day. I also took photos of the panel at the end of each day for comparison.
Celebrating the season of long winter nights and welcomingly fragrant evergreens, a grateful return to my seat at the easel, the twinkling of colored lights, newsletters from loved ones, the trail of cookie crumbs from studio to cabin…and back, and the sparkle in the eyes of our sweet lapdog Finnegan who is thoroughly enjoying the frosty morning walks with her buddy.
Wishing you all manner of love and laughter and light…
We’ve been home for over a week now and the re-entry hubub has settled down and I am back at the easel in earnest. And back in the garden as well but not so earnestly as the summer heat wave continues. But this is all good because I am getting my garden fix early in the cooler morning hours and then the rest of the day spent at the air-conditioned studio easel feels like a spa.
Time then to post some photos from the Granary show. The opening was wonderful…a sea of art lovers with many new faces and lots of kind words of support. I took some photos after the crowds had cleared to show you blog readers the installation.
And not to be left out… a few snaps from this morning’s raid of one of the potato bags.
I’m in the mood for some vichysoisse and decided to dig around for some spuds. A task which I approach like an archeological expedition… gently brushing aside layers of dirt to reveal the brightly colored treasures. It’s just magical. Though I’m not too impressed with the yield so far. I welcome any advice from all my master gardener pals on how to improve next year’s crop.
In the coming weeks I’m going to look back and show a couple “paintings in progress” photos I took while working this spring. And I’ve got a slew of panels ready for a series of smaller paintings which will be headed out to Denver for the Gallery 1261 small works show in November/December.
Meanwhile I finished this piece the other day…(here’s an unvarnished studio shot)
It’s title is “Aren’t We Aging Well”…from the title of that wonderful Dar Williams song. I’ve carried just the title forward through several sketch books and when I decided on a visual interpretation it was originally supposed to be an anonymous couple, though always two women. But after Pat and I posed together in the studio yard…I used the remote shutter release on the camera to sneak some shots from behind the chairs…and I looked at the pictures, I realized that we were in no way anonymous. And then it became so deeply personal that I took it out of the Granary roster and put it aside to work on after the show.
I’m so glad now to have it finished …and have cleared some wall space in the studio to hang it after it dries, is varnished and photographed…just for us.
It has been years since I allowed myself to do a painting that wasn’t destined for a gallery or show. It’s good, as the song says, to “steal out with my paints and my brushes”…and paint as if nobody is watching.
But now…I’ve got to be getting on with the current still life. A few of the familiar props are making another appearance like the red stiletto, the silk camisole, and is that one of Polly’s cigarettes ? Really ?
Patience dear reader…all will be revealed…in good time.
I almost forgot to post today’s painting in the midst of all this packing. We have one more day to get all this together and I’m suddenly WAY behind schedule…
So, without further ado here ya go…
#15 – The Canoe Trip 24 x 36
Another look at James Pond
but this time from Gulliver’s perspective.
She was a wonderful dog.
Shy around some, she chose her humans carefully.
As Saren will tell you,
if you were lucky enough to have Gulliver trust you,
it was a rare gift of grace.
And Gully was loyal.
Beyond measure or equal.
So that when her best buddy Pat,
and pack members Jon and Tonya,
decided to take a sunset canoe trip on the pond…
those loyalties were surely tested.
Paddle alongside them to make sure their passage was safe…
or stay on shore guarding me,
the one who is mostly unsure of the water
and boats
and a reluctant swimmer.
You can see
that she chose to wait and watch
and I will forever be grateful to her
for that gift.
She watches over us all now and is ringing her chimes as I write.
We hooked up the trailer early and headed up to the photographers’…John Corcoran, my digital magician. Check out his website for some amazing examples of his work.
He and Pat always have a yuck yuck…even while helping me to load massive paintings into the trailer…
It’s the middle of the afternoon now and all the paintings are safely home in the studio and together for the first time in months. I mean ALL the paintings…and ALL the frames. There is barely enough room for me to walk let alone frame but that’s what needs to be done so I’m winging it. They say the effects of this kind of a heat wave are cumulative and I have been feeling it today but we are among the lucky ones who have power and cool air inside.
So a break here to chill down and let you see today’s addition to the Granary Show lineup…
#9 – Skillet Apple Pie 24 x 29.5
Yes, another in the apple series paintings…and this year’s Recipe Series entry. You can read more including the original recipe in the Painter’s Notes.
No more goofing off for me…it’s back to the framing.
This one goes a little deeper…
and as the Painter’s Notes reveal even deeper than I thought.
The Trinity
I’m listening to Paul Winter as I write this.
His song, Belly of the Whale from his Earth Music Album.
If you were here and we were both sitting in front of this painting listening to it together… I wonder if it would expand your thoughts about it, the painting that is, too.
His saxophone is tilting in a graceful arc above the water while a clear soulful whale song bubbles up from the ocean deep. They meet a hair’s breath below the surface in a gentle but haunting cello solo…and dance.
There is darkness and pain which flows into a brilliant blue tenderness. A compassion that makes me weep, and one or two notes that are all I need of joy.
I never would have chosen any of those words to describe this painting. I’m not sure why I’m including them now. But I do know that this painting was a mystery from day one. It does not appear in any form in any sketchbook I’ve kept. The objects are as far apart from each other in the studio as it is possible to be.
I remember picking up the clarinet in order to adjust the string that was holding it askew on the wall. Then taking the painting of Ted, which hangs facing the easel, off the wall so I could hang it there. Seeing the yellow of the whale oil strainer from across the room… and then noticing the morning light catch the tip of the seagull feather in the driftwood. How I got them all to stay like that on the wall and how that window got there I don’t know.
During the weeks I painted this Pat was away caring for a critically ill Uncle and his wife. We weren’t expecting it and the separation was disconcerting. I suppose the muses knew I needed a meaningful distraction. And so they brought me to the edge of this latest in the spirit vessel series.
And I suppose they are at it again…
choosing tonight, as I write, to have Paul Winter’s Saxophone to fill the studio, my heart, and my spirit
This year’s show at the Granary Gallery will mark 10 years of representation there for me. I can still remember walking out of the gallery after Chris had said, “Yes, we’ll take all the paintings you’ve got.”…and being shell shocked and unable to speak until we got to the Black Dog and sat down and my heart stopped pounding.
It has been a dream come true of a decade and I am grateful every single day for the chance they took on this wannabe artist. Because they are so good at doing their jobs…I get to paint for my living and that still takes my breath away.
Though I have grown comfortable walking through the red barn doors and being welcomed by hugs of friendship, it is not because I am one in their stable of artists… this is the way that they treat everyone. It’s a gift and it flows from the top down which I attribute to Chris and Shiela Morse’s spirit of character and community. It’s a family affair and we are honored to be a small part.
The show is now a little over two weeks away, opening is July 15th, and I thought I’d do something different this year by rolling out the new paintings one at a time. This year there are 18 which will be making their debuts in the annual summer show so that will take us right up until the day we pack the trailer and haul them up the eastern coast…island bound.
I’ve continued the “theme” idea begun last year and there are a few overlapping ones this year… Apples is the big one, Seagulls get to play politics, Garden Graces make an appearance, and the first of many planned paintings of a special and seldom glimpsed corner of the Vineyard, James Pond, make the scene.
I hope it will be fun to follow along and see what each new day has to offer as I work in the background getting the frames put together and the painter’s notes written…in between harvesting and weeding the burgeoning garden !
So here we go…
#1 – All this and More… 28″ x 36″
This painting was inspired by a quote from NC Wyeth, “I have all this and more, yet how I would like to relax; to be content with a wheelbarrow, a rake, an apple basket, a pipe.” From his letters, September 19, 1910.
I’ll be picking up the wood for the frame tomorrow and I’m going to carve that quote around it. And yes, I’ll be content with my carving knife, a pile of shavings…and maybe even a slice of apple.
Yesterday was one of those days when absolutely NOTHING worked as planned. I had at least fifteen meltdowns and that was before noon. The stalled storm front which dumped steady rain for three days was causing my vertigo to flare up, and watching the creek steadily rising in the background was like having one of those CNN crawls constantly going across the screen inside my eyeballs screaming flood warning. But even with all this anxiety raging there was absolutely NOTHING going on that was worthy of the whining energy I was giving my angst. At the end of the day, with a glass of wine in hand sitting on the porch swing, Pat was able to talk me down off the ledge and that, and a good night’s sleep, has this day dawning a whole lot brighter.
With the countdown looming for the summer show at the Granary, I decided to have some fun painting smaller pieces inspired by my gardens. And this week it’s all about the roses.
Don’t look at the weeding in progress beyond the foreground…but this is the view from my easel window. I have Gulliver’s windchime hanging just over my shoulder so she can keep an eye on me and the first summer after she died this rose bush began to bloom. It now climbs up the chime’s support and reaches out of the dark corner into her light. I noticed this morning that another branch is peeking up over the window sill. Leave it to Gully to know how to cheer me up.
Yesterday I brought this beach rose in and played all day with a still life set up. (Responsible for about half of the meltdowns it was.) This morning that flower is flat out and the studio smells wonderful.
And here’s the first pass which was done last night. With roses behind me and roses before me I am ready to face whatever this day has to offer.
With the promise of a bit of Shiraz and Herself waiting for me at the other end…I can manage anything !
The painting that keeps reminding me what a small world this is…
As I mentioned in a blog post way back in January of 2011, many members of the original Circus Kirk have contacted me after learning of this painting to share stories of their time in that circus, indeed on that very truck.
This week two more people wrote asking about the availability of prints, Ellie who went on to be a teacher and photographer and remembers the “hectic” schedule traveling with the circus, and Terry who actually painted the name on this very truck.
I wanted to update the information here that yes, the original of this painting has sold and YES, I do have prints available. They are discounted for Circus Alumnae and are $125 – printed on archival paper that is 17″ x 22″ and shipping is FREE. Please send a check or money order to my address (listed on the contact page of the website) and include the address to which it should be sent and off it will go.
A rare snowy day this winter and I find myself at sixes and sevens bumbling around the studio…eager to get the next painting up on the easel but there are gremlins about. I have a stable full of panels that are prepped but stand awaiting their final coat of gesso…the good stuff. This means that, once I decide what I’m going to paint and find the appropriate sized panel, put that gesso on and let it dry, then do the final smoothing wetsand… I have at least a day if all goes well before I can start the next painting.
Today, there was little cooperation from the muses. After telling myself not to try to do this without a drop cloth, I dumped a full quart of gesso on my favorite handmade rug…after I told myself to put on a smock…there went the shirt and pants…etc. Even when it did dry and I started the wetsand there were troubling areas that seemed to wipe completely down to the canvas so I had to re-apply and wait for that to dry and then sand again…twice !
So, while I practice patience and wait for that hopefully last coat to dry… it’s time to get back into the blog world. Last week my friend Peter Follansbee had an entry on his blog about the painting he is doing on his groovy new toolchest.
I noticed that he was using a mahl stick..
The simplest of painting tools it is basically a stick used to rest your hand on to steady it and the brush. It’s especially helpful for fine detail.
The one I’ve been using for decades I made from a twisty branch I brought back from Tucson. I sharpened the end, put a superball on it and wrapped that with a piece of soft leather. Wrapped this way the ball provides a soft pivot point that won’t marr the painted surface as you rest that end on the panel.
This one is about two feet long but has it’s limitations.
Then I watched a video that Bob Jackson has out now in anticipation of his newly published book,
Click on his painting above, The Feast, to view it’s creation. It’s a crazy slideshow look into his work process and along the way I saw him using his mahl stick. Couldn’t really tell because of the speed of the video but it looked to be somehow attached or anchored at the top of the panel or on his easel. This gave him a nice pivot point which seemed sturdier than my floating version.
So…I looked around the studio and found… The Niblick.
It’s an old wooden golf club that was used as a prop in the painting, Tea Time…
and now it is reincarnated as painting tool. It has just the right flexibility from the thin wooden shaft, and the iron head provides a nice weight, and the hook of the wedge is perfect for catching the top of the panel, or cross pieces on my easel. Because that edge is sharp and hard, I softened it by tying a piece of leather on and also wrapped the handle with a chamois for extra comfort there.
It’s just the thing for those tiniest details…
The painting I just finished yesterday was quite a bit larger than the one featured above and when the stick was hooked over the top of that panel it did not reach low enough for me to work on the bottom half of the painting. So… I dug around in the golf bag and came up with a 5 Iron. Not as asthetically pleasing with it’s metal shaft but the sturdiness of the metal seems to be needed for the extra length. I do have to close the curtains when the sun rakes in though…it shines off the silver and casts wierd light onto the panel surface.
Well the sunset came on quickly and the snow covered branches are blue against the darkening sky. I’m going to go see if that panel is dry enough to sand and then work on tuning up the sketch. Then it’s home to the fireside with Herself and Finn…and the snowy walk home will make it all the warmer.
