Jet Blue Art

So, after the initial delay of our flight, came Tuesday night, and we are on a plane to the East Coast.
A red eye flight.

The plane is overheated. Way overheated. Like, way Way WAAAAAAAAY overheated.

And because we were transferred from a flight that got cancelled 2 days before, I find myself stuck in the middle of the 3-seat row, between two strangers. (The JohnnyB is stuck in the row in front of me, between two other strangers, only his strangers are nicer).

The guy on my left is eating a sandwich with his mouth full open, chewing for the whole world to share his pleasure, and then - just when I am certain my nerves are strung to the maximum with his gastronomical concert of wet masticating, he decides to treat everyone to a grand finale with a bag of potato chips. Yes, they are very crunchy. No, he is not closing his mouth while munching on them. Why should he? The other passengers may miss his joy.

To add to the joy, the stranger in the isle seat (to my right) is sleeping. Which is fine. Only she keeps yawning. Loudly. And, judging by the delightful scent, she hasn't brushed her teeth since she her first tooth has budded.

OK then, I put my sleeve up to my nose. The window seat dude is done with his chips and is now deep asleep; by some unfathomed miracle, he is not snoring. I try to sleep, as I am very tired. It's been a long day and it is, after all, a red-eye flight.

But - lo and behold - two rows behind, on the right, someone keeps sniffing.

And sniffing.

And sniffing.

And sniffing.

He's got a cold.

The concept of tissues has obviosuly escaped him. So, he sniffs.

I desperately try to sleep, despite the noises.

Aha - now the flight attendant is rustling with the bags of chips. Apparently, 1am is the perfect time to rearrange them.

My back is painfully stiff, as the Jet Blue seats, while allowing a lot of leg-room, only recline about 20 degrees or so. I dunno why.

There's a personal tiny TV screen in front of me, with an impressive selection of shows to watch. But apparently I am expected to bring my own head phones. They do not give nor sell them on the plane.

I can't sleep, I can't watch TV - by now I am too agitated to read, so I sketch the boring image that's frozen on my screen. Twice. Different styles. I've got time. Plenty of time.

The 4.5 hours of the flight finally come to an end, and my neighbors look very refreshed (with the exception of the mouth of the isle-seat gal).

The wait at the JFK airport is not as bad - Jet Blue has a new cool and hip section there, with colorful sofas (all full of passengers in various poses of being fast asleep) and fun food court and a jazz band(!) playing Christmas songs. And they are pretty good too.

The next flight boards pretty much on time, and The JohnnyB and I are - yet again - separately stuck between two strangers. And again, The JohnnyB's share of neighbors is far better than mine. Because, guess what: the guy sitting on my left is now sniffing. For the whole duration of the flight (he has loads of napkins that come with his drinks, but - needless to say - he is not using them to blow his damn nose once and for all).

And this flight has an additional twist to it: one row behind, on the left, a gal is chatting up a guy with one of those high-pitch voices. She asks him everything one needs to know, from which school he went to, to what his parents do. The guy is obviously charmed, as he answers all her questions obediently. And, to each answer she responds with a braying laughter. One of those phony yet very vocal laughs. Everything he says gets a laughter. EVERYTHING! I sneak a peek, and realize that the poor woman sitting to the left of the girl is close to tears, with head phones and a miserable face on. I send her a sympathetic look. I mean, I am sitting 2 rows ahead and am struggling with a passionate desire to get up and choke that brayer - what must she feel like?.

Again, I accept the no-chance-of-sleep-here-either verdict, and start to sketch the frozen image on the screen in front of me. Luckily, it's a different image, and is one of my favorite actors, Javier Bardem, who - despite his violent roles in movies (have you seen "No Land for Old Men"!?), has a very cute smile on his face.


So I sketch him, too.

Luckily, this flight only lasts less than an hour.

We get off the plane, many passengers are shooting murderous looks at the blond (yup, she is blond) bimbo (yup, she is) who garnished every minute of the flight with her nerve-wracking laugher.

The JohnnyB's mother and sister welcome us near the baggage claim carousel, commenting that I look very tired and somewhat stressed. and with very bloodshot eyes.

On the way out, The JohnnyB's mom has a golden opportunity to smash into the bimbo's car. Alas, she doesn't.

I don't think I'll fly red-eye in the near future, but - going for a cocktail of silver lining and half-full glass: a yield of 3 sketches is not so bad for my state of mind.

There's a Fine Line between Critique and Criticism...

...and today it was crossed.

Today was the last session of our figure class.

No models, no drawing, no mess - it was critique time!

Now, I've been through a lot of critique sessions since I dipped my little cotton socks (yeah, that's for you, Val!) in the deep water of art. Most classes and workshops involve critique, and I am very used to having my work reviewed by a critique group for the past 3 years (wow, has it really been 3 years already???).

And, I can take critique. I do not belong to those who seek the "WOW that is so amazing" response on each and every thing I do, as I don't believe in this kind of reaction. It's false, it's phony, and when you've done something that actually deserves it, how can you tell the difference?

But today - whew!

The teacher overdid himself. He made sure to give positive critique on at least one piece that everyone put on the wall, but then he went on a bloody merciless quest, aimed at helping us move forward, as he saw it.

Oh, so it's examples you want?

OK, here's one: "The eyes in this face look like he is blind. Or like someone poked it."

Or, "The drawing is very good, but the color... you know, it reminds me of the time we were kids and we were painting by numbers."

Or, "Looking at these two drawings, you can really see the contrast - because this one is so good... and the other one, well (chuckle), the good one just makes me not want to go back to the other one".

Or, "You overstated the creases in the dress. It's enough if you say something one time, you don't need to say it over and over again three hundred times".

Or, "This is supposed to be a self-portrait... well, I didn't know your mother, but I bet you she looked like that".

Or, "OK, you've shown us what you can do. Now - move on! show us what you cannot do."

And on.

- - - And on.

And, mind you, I didn't even get the harshest critique! My share was the highly ecouraging comment about saying something 300 times... and it was said about the little sketch of the crossed legs I did here , which I happen to like quite a bit. Some of the students looked at me with anticipation, but I remained calm. Well, except my eyes that were shooting arrows.

At some point, at he was roasting Al's work, he said "Mind you, everyone has an opinion, so even if I say something about a certain drawing, it doesn't necessarily mean that I am the gospel".

"No, you are not", said a little voice.

And soon enough, I ouched with pain as MembieM kicked my leg and frantically shushed me. "Oh, did I actually say that out loud?" I asked her, and her uncontrolled laughter proved to me that indeed, that little voice was mine.

But then, oh sweet revenge... MembieM wanted to share an incredible monoprint she did at a new exciting class she is taking. A wonderful portrait, truly impressive, absolutely expressive. She showed it to the appreciative class, and the teacher said "Oh, a monoprint. Let me tell you about monoprint... it's this process in which you smear ink on glass - "

"Actually, it's Plexiglas", said MembieM.

"OK, whatever - Plexiglas, and then you take some of the ink off, and transfer it to paper using a brayer - - "

"Um, we use a press", corrected MembieM.

"A what!?", grunted the teacher (he does not like to be interrupted nor contradicted - yeah, he's a man!).

"A press", replied MembieM with her sweetest smile.

"Yeah... anyhow", he proceeded to educate us, "then you make the print. Technically, it's not really a print, as you can only get one print out of it, so - - - "

"As a matter of fact, you can get two!", cheered MembieM and - like a magician pulling a bunny out of the hat - presented us with a second print of that very same image, or what's called 'the ghost'.

At that point, the teacher seemed quite miffed, and I was thoroughly enjoying myself. Sure, it may be small and petty, but looking around, I wasn't the only one giggling.

"Oh well, I guess so...", he surrendered. But, having to have the last word, he added "...and as you can all see, the ghost print is better!".

"Hmm... I disagree. The original print is MUCH better! it's got more mood!!!" - that was Val, who's just had enough.

"No, it's scary", snickered the teacher.

"Yeah, well, I did say mood", insisted Val.

While all that was going on, I kept myself from bursting out by delving into sketching. I captured Al and CrystieG as they were watching in disbelief the teacher slaughtering yet another painting.

So, that was a good exercise in ego-survival, and more than that: it showed me that I've become pretty immune to criticizing. Judging art is so subjective, different people will always have different opinions about different paintings, and nobody is the gospel when it comes to art. Some people can give their opinion in a nice way, and some, well... I won't share The JohnnyB's definition, as this blog is rated PG (at least it was, the last time I checked).

I just can't help pondering: what's the reason for this tendency of the teacher to put everything and everyone down, and antagonize the class? Is that what he considers to be tough love?

And you know what's the funniest thing? I'm gonna take this class again next semester.

I can see your jaw dropping with sheer astonishment: why in the world would I wanna do that!?

It's a combination of wanting to paint from life, liking the atmosphere in class and the fact that there are no Prima Donnas in it (which is very refreshing). Plus, there's also that simple primeval instinct to survive, as LimaB is taking it next semester, and I promised her that I would too...

More Gazing

This is becoming frightfully repetitive, those models who pierce the classroom space with their bored eyes.

I am not complaining. Not really. Not sure what I'd do if I had to sit in the same pose for 3 hours, but for us class takers it kills inspiration, again and again.

Or does it?

Last week, at figure class, it was portrait time again. This time we had Paul, a guy with quite an ordinary face and a beret-like hat. Nothing exciting.

And yes, he just sat there. Gazing, as you'd expect.

We had 3 hours, and I was bored out of my mind to begin with, so I started off with just rendering his features, slouching in my chair and waiting for the time to pass. I just did them nonchalantly, holding my eyes wide open with my fingers in a desperate attempt to not fall asleep. What I felt towards this model was also reflected in the colors I chose. Did I mention sheer lack of excitement?

Another look at the clock - but I could swear someone has used Superglue on its hands. Time froze, the earth thawed, glaciers melted, penguins gently simmered in the hot-tub-like water - and Paul sat there, gazing.

To add to it all, he looked so much like someone I really, Really, REALLY loathe. I mentioned it to MembieM and CrystieG and they nodded in pity.

After I'd done 4 portraits of this guy, and as always happens when you paint the same subject several times and get to a point when you just wonder why - - - madness took place. I got angry. I got tired of this fancy faced model who sat there basking in the light of the lamp, looking so, so... beige.

My patience came to an end. I pulled out a set of vibrant watercolor brush pens that are probably non-archival and unprofessional - but I couldn't care less at that stage.

I lost all control, and started to have fun for the first time in that session.

Those who sat next to me got all excited at the fun colors (yeah, by now you may have guessed that everyone was reaching for the browns, not just me).

The teacher was doing his walks amongst us, complimenting everybody and raving about their work in extreme superlatives. When he saw mine - he came to a screeching halt, and then proceeded to the others. He was horrified, to say the least, which amused me a lot.

And then, after that got out of my system, I could move on to a more peaceful piece. After all, it wasn't the model's fault that he resembles someone I dislike, right?

This last one was sheer joy. Using one of those fun multicolored pencils, I let it do its own thing, used line to define shapes and kept restating rather than fixing or erasing, which added a sense of energy. The teacher? Ah, he was almost in tears... finally I came up with something that he absolutely loved. He couldn't take his eyes (and hands) off the drawing, and declared "This is your best drawing in this class".

I am not sure I agree with him, but I do like it.

Another Gaze

Figure class again.

One endless pose, yet again, like last week.

This time, the teacher wanted us to go for the portrait rather than the whole figure. Yes, I know what y'all are thinking. Indeed, I've been doing mostly portraits the whole time, but that was just me and a couple of others in class. Needless to say, because he told us to do a portrait, MembieM (who always, ALWAYS does stunning portraits) cheerfully went for a full-figure. I filed a complaint to her that being the rebel has always been my job, but she just laughed joyously and proceeded to capture the whole model - 'coz MembieM is a free spirit. Ain't nobody tellin' her what to paint.

Now, as much as I wanted to do the figure (and thus keep my rebellious reputation), I simply couldn't. The model (whose name, so I was told, was Paula) was wearing a beige sweatshirt and jeans, which is as boring as it gets. To add to it, she sat a chair and acted like... like... her portrait is being drawn or somethin'.

You know those formal portraits you see in galleries, of uberly blank-gazing people? Yup - that was the expression.

But - it is, after all, class. And we came there to render, so renderin' I went.

I sat next to MembieM and gave it a try. I did one on smooth Bristol surface, and then another one on watercolor paper. The second one actually turned out quite nice (but that's shall be shown in the sequel of this post, sometime next week).

Towards the the end, I couldn't take it anymore. I had to loosen up and get some fresh air into my soul, so I went for some (very) quick sketches of the artists around me. I managed to capture Val and Al at work. Now, THAT was fun! The model looked at me kinda nasty, but hey - she's had 2.5 hours of my undivided attention. That's more than enough, I'd say.

I no longer have these two sketches in my possession, as I gave them to their unsuspecting subjects(*). It was the fair thing to do. Glad I took photos, though.

(*) I'm guessing it would have looked much more professional to write "these two sketches are no longer in my possession, as they are collected". Ah well. Next time.

Short Poses

When a model keeps the same pose for an hour or more, it gives enough time to fully capture the pose, fully render it, fully work on it and overwork it and get back into it and mess up the freshness and spontaneity.

Whereas short poses - ahhhh, I love them so! you look, you put on paper what it really is about the pose that makes you wanna capture it, and then the model changes to the next one.

Until a year ago or so, I used to regularly take a truly great class, in which we had models pose for periods of 30 seconds to 2 minutes. All you could really capture was the gesture; no time for eye lashes, hardly any time for the arms and legs. At the end of class, we were all dead tired, each of us with over 40 sketches, most of them quite crappy, but the point was that we learned to look, to see. And we learned that 2 minutes are a very long time. And the teacher was actually teaching, a different body part each session, tips about drawing of clothes and how to deal with the clothed figure - one of the best classes, which really changed the way I draw. Writing this, I realize how much I miss that class; maybe it's time to take it again.

Anyway, Thursday was the figure drawing class, and we had a wonderful full-figured young woman, incredibly graceful, with a flowing dress and a nice little hat. Highly professional, she delighted us with a great repertoire of inspiring short poses (10 minutes each), and the time flew by. Alas, she is the very first model in this class who said she prefers to not have her photo taken. Ah well, yet again I need to face the fact that I can't have the photos of everyone I want to paint.

I like quite a few of the quick sketches I made in class. So did the teacher, who kept chanting "less is more" and other favorite clichés.

Next class, he promised, it will be one single pose for the whole 3 hours!!!

I am so very tempted to play hookey...

Fun with a 99 cent Pencil

Thursday again. Figure drawing class begins in less than an hour, and I am - yet again - amazed by how fast the week has gone. Been busy putting the house back in a civilized state of being, so obviously, I didn't paint this week. Nor sketched. Nothin'.

But before I rush to class, I might as well post the fruits of the last one.

I almost didn't go last week. I was so demoralized by the previous one, that all desire to go through it again became extinct.

And yet - I know very well that this is the best mood to go to class with - zero expectations. I decided I'll go and see who the model is, and then make up my mind.

I arrived late, went into the room, sans my drawing board and paper, and one look at the model made me rush out to get the rest of the stuff. For once - someone who dressed for the occasion! She had a black fancy hat on, with a feminine figure and carried herself in a great way.

Only... this class was about 10-minute poses, and by the time I arrived, she went through the more interesting ones, so it seems. Or maybe she never had any.

I didn't feel like messing around with charcoal this time. So I took fun kids pencil I got a while ago (Michael's. 99 cents..), the one whose nib is made of endless colors and any line you make comes out very rainbowy.

A 10 minute pose is tricky. It doesn't allow enough time for a drawing, but it's too long for a sketch. I tried to keep it short - spent time examining the model, deciding what it is about her pose that makes me want to capture it, and then took the pencil in my hand.

That impressed the hell out of the teacher, who announced to the class "I want you to follow what this lady is doing" (lady? moi!?).

"You see", he carried on, "how she sits and first looks at the model, deciding WHAT it is she wants to paint? That's what I would like you all to do. Don't just jump at the paper - LOOK first. OBSERVE".

Being the sweet soul that I am, I did not share with him the fact that some poses were so uninspiring, that in some of them I spent the whole time observing without doing anything... especially when the model threw a shapeless sweater on, as she was getting bit cold. All that did not prevent her from repeatedly annoucning to us - and to the world in general - what a good model she is, and how she's been modeling for her mom (who's an artist) her whole life.

At the end of the day, I had 3 sketches that I like. I worked on losing edges, keeping it simple - putting in only what's necessary. All in all, I'm glad I went.



OK then - time to run to the next class.

Lapworking

One of my favorite art sites, "The Painter's Keys", who's originator (Robert Genn) sends a bi-weekly email, has finally addressed the mood I am in recently, of more casual art, or as he calls it: "Lapworking".

Among other things, he says "You might find that the 'hobby-horse' feel of lapwork generates the languid ease that helps get you into the "zone." While it appears nonconforming and casual, ideas and motifs flow remarkably well. Further, when the work is already in your hand, it becomes easier to put it down and pick up another. In lapwork there's a feeling of embrace as you move lovingly here and there, following whims".

Exactly!

Great minds, eh?

And why am I so joyous about this?

'cause I am still clinging to the convenient excuse of my studio being too messy to actually paint in it, and am trying to find validation for this mood. Plus, when one is recovering from a long stressful period, and is getting ready for vacation, it's hard to start something serious.

Ah, if only I was as good in painting as in making excuses...

But hey, at least I am keeping my hand going, and my brush wet. Sketching from TV is fun, and I keep pausing whenever I see a compelling image. Obviously, being me, most of the images are faces.

This time I was glued to the British movie "Breaking The Waves" - a very unique, emotional and quite bleak movie. I watched and paused and sketched and paused again.

I have to say that this way, parts of the movie really stay with you. Especailly those that you drew.

Rather than using a pen, pencil or marker, I limited myself to drawing with a brush. It's somehow more committing, but also providing a big spectrum of strokes, so I can play with edges and shapes rather than use lines only.

Pushed by my figure drawing teacher comments, I am working on getting out of my comfort zone, That means using line as an accent and a final touch rather than as the underlying structure. I decided to give this a try for a while, and see where it takes me.

These sketches are done on smooth surface Bristol paper (which shows every brush stroke you make), using the Daniel Smith's Graphite Gray watercolor paint. While this paint doesn't always go well in a wateroclor painting, it's perfect for drawing, allowing for great control of the value while keeping the graphite hue, which I like.

Oh, and if you think the mood of these sketches is a bit on the dark side, well, watch the movie.

Sketch Therapy

It's hot today.

Too hot to do anything.

I have grand plans to tidy up and organize my studio, so I can start painting there, but it's just so damn hot!

With no air condition in our house, couch-potatoing with a wet towel around my neck and a big bunch of grapes, is the only way to go.

And yet, I have those pangs of conscience that I am yet again reverting to the status of I-am-painting-in-class-hence-I-don't-need-to-paint-at-home; a known place many of us tend to get stuck in when we participate in an art class, be it a figure drawing class or a full-blown watercolor workshop.

It's an easy and convenient self-deception excuse, but very, very wrong.

While watching TV, there was a phone call. LimaB, telling me that in between remodeling going on in her house and her husband staying home, doing contractor-sitting, she actually managed to sketch and draw. Hmm... well then, who am I to just sit around?

Went back to the paused Aussie film, and realized that the frozen face on the screen had an interesting expression. So, I went to the studio, dug in the skyscrapers of stuff piled all over the place, and found my new vis-a-vis marker (just had to try it after WackieM's recommendation!). My excavations also revealed the smooth surface Bristol drawing pad, and - armed with those, I went back to the TV (with a detour to the fridge for a refill of grapes), where I sat watching and pausing and drawing images that spoke to me.

I went for quick sketching, capturing the movement and main lines, softening some of the edges with a we brush, letting the vis-a-vis ink run and separate to blue and orange, and - as I was getting more into it - I allowed myself to add some touches of color with watercolor crayons.



That was fun!!

Can't think of a better way to spend a hot afternoon (actually, a cool swimming pool does come to mind, but it would be a bit hard to sketch in there, right?).

Freddie, Art Critic

Among other activities, our watercolor organization arranges weekly paint outs (or, to be fancy, plein-air painting outings). I usually do not participate in them, as they collide with our critique group meetings, and I am not quite a landscape painter.

But today was an afternoon session. Plus it was held in a Japanese garden. Plus the organizer, PleinieJ, is a wonderful fiber artist (in addition to being a great plein air painter), so my sister - also a fiber artist - wanted to look at PleinieJ's work and show off with her own (after impressing the critique group with them this morning. Hey, one of the works had gallstones - which she incorporated into the piece after undergoing a gall bladder surgery).

So we went.

It's a lovely place, as Japanese gardens tend to be: the token wooden bridge, a pond filled with koi fish, ducks, sculpted little trees, background rocks - and I am sure somewhere in the garden was hiding the inevitable bamboo thingy with water dripping through. Y'know, the thingy that makes this noise without which a Japanese garden is just not it. Painters with their easels were spread all around the garden, rendering the beauty with their brushes; my sister was taking photos as she's never seen a Japanese garden before (well, she hasn't, actually); and I - I looked for something to sketch.

I tried drawing the ducks... the plants... almost attempted the koi - all with no success.

And suddenly - an adorable chubby little kid, accompanied by his mom and aunt approached the pond. He stood there fascinated, admiring the ducks and fish and water and little tadpoles and whatnot. The other painters frowned, as he blocked their view - but I was beaming, as I have found my subject!!

I skecthed his gesture quickly, as - being a little kid, he moved quite a bit, but I recalled what our incredible sketching teacher, Jim Smyth, used to tell us: "Little kids and athletes have a very limited repertoire of poses - if you sketch them, and they move, just wait till they get back to that pose again". As always, he was right.

So, I sketched the little guy, trying to capture his nonchalant yet curious pose. One minute - that's all I had, before he abandoned the ducks and came to see what I was doing. I showed him the sketch. He was utterly unimpressed, informed me his name was Freddie, and went back to the pond. They left, and I sat there, adding some colors and the surroundings. Then they came back. Freddie was very keen on feeding the ducks (by that time, my camera was ready!). While he was becoming popular with the ducks, his aunt approached me, and after a lot of hesitation asked if she could take a photo of my sketch.

"Sure", I replied graciously.

But then, I gave it another thought, and said "actually... let ME take a photo, and I'll give you the original".

She was quite surprised by the offer, and after I made sure she indeed likes it (and won't just toss it in the nearest garbage can), I insisted.

I took a photo, signed the sketch, and carefully tore the page out of my sketchbook. Again, Freddie came to see what the commotion is about. Again, he couldn't cares less, showed me the bag of marshmallows he took out of his mom's basket, and exclaimed "Mine!".

His mom offered me one - and he tried to hide his anxiety. I politely said "No" (you don't want to upset the model!) but she insisted, so I carefully took one piece. By the time my sister was offered a marshmallow, Freddie's wide open eyes were showing increasing signs of distress. As tempted as it was, we rejected a second piece. After all, that would have been like taking candy from a baby...

We parted as friends, and after a while, I admit had some pangs of regret that I gave the sketch away, as I liked it quite a bit. But hey - a random act of kindness. Plus, I took so many photos of Freddie, that he might become a series one day.

Obviously, Freddie's own opinion was that a piece of marshmallow was way too high a price to pay for a sketch...

An Attempt At Plein Air

Time really flies in the blogosphere... I haven't published an art-related post for just over 3 weeks - and it seems like forever.

Haven't been painting recently - partly because we went on a 10-day vacation to Utah and Arizona, for some glorious views and time-out.

I still have the sights carved on the inside of my eyelids: the majestic rocks of Zion, the awesome hoodoos of Bryce against the snowy background (yup, there's still snow on the slopes), the sensual spirals of Antelope Slot Canyon and the overall sublime vastness of the desert. And all those textures, shapes, lines, colors - a true feast for the eyes, especially when the eyes belong to an artist. Mother Nature sure has an incredible exhibit out there!

I am documenting it all on my other blog. I took hundreds of photos, and yes, I did take my sketching kit, but it turned out into one of these trips that were too hectic to sketch.

And yet - on the very last afternoon in Zion, while The JohnnyB took his nap, I sat in the garden of the incredible B&B (Harvest House - highly recommended!!!), thoroughly enjoying the tranquility of the sorroundings, and tried to transfer to paper the feeling of having The Watchman cliff facing me eye to eye.

I reached for my sketchbook, but then saw the watercolor postcards pack that I carry with me on every trip, but never used them.

"OK then - postcard it is!", I decided. I'll make one for my sister and send it to her.

Ambitious? Of course!

And... probably not the sharpest idea to try and capture such a sight on a 4"x6" piece of paper!

I made two attempts, of which I am bravely posting the least disastrous one. It was fun - but it makes me think the world would be a better place if I stuck with painting people...

Is Art Your Life - Or Your Livelihood?

Went to a demo on Sunday - by a serious watercolor master: Cheng Khee Chee. A real sweet, fun and funny guy, with a lot of wisdom to share and a masterful hand with the brush. He is giving a workshop here this week - which I am not taking, and I quite envy those who do, as the short lecture he gave before his demo was very inspiring. It was wonderful to listen to someone who spoke of his philosophy of painting rather than showing his technique. he spoke of the Tao of paint, of Yin and Yang - but did it in a way that was not pretentious or annoyingly vague.

Oh yes, some of the attendees gave him this "shut up and paint already!" look, but I was fascinated as I have not been in a long time. I loved his emphasis on the emotional contact with the subject and painting what your heart desires, and thoroughly enjoyed his message that although we do need our right brain to create, the left brain also plays a very important part. After meeting so many artists who seem to have given up on their left brain, well... 'nough said.

You can read more about his ideas here.

Anyway - while Cheng Khee Chee was talking, I kept snapping photos of him, as he has a great expressive face. Once I was done capturing him in every possible pose, I let go of the camera in favor of a quick skecth of the master (top left), then chose my next victim: this guy in the audience who was kept falling asleep... I guess Sunday afternoon is not exactly the time when artists are at the peak of their wakefulness. It was fun sketching him, even if I had to change the position of his eyelids once or twice...

Oh yes, I do have some real paintings to show, but I've been way too preoccupied and stressed about with our upcoming vacation (that got very close to being cancelled), so more on those when I get back.

Stepping Away from The Madonna

I love the gold gesso version of MistyN I did last week. I really do. And yet, I kinda felt it had a religious feel to it. To prove my suspicion, JimmyB commented, "For me, it evokes a Madonna-esque quality". WebbieM even congratulated me on entering my "religious period".

OUCH!

That is exactly what I did not want. I have nothing against such paintings, but it was not my intention. I wanted to capture the moment, the expression, the light... I agree the pose lends itself to Madonna-ish associations, but I want to take a road less traveled.

So, loyal to WackieM's challenge, I tossed the dice again. Came up with a yellow (Cadmium Yellow Deep), a red (Permanent Red) and a blue (Cerulean Blue). Ahhhh - an obvious color triad, AGAIN!!

"Oh no!", I exclaimed to The JohnnyB who tried to point out that I am cheating by not going with what the dice had in store for me. "No way!".

Accompanied by his look of disdain, I threw the dice again, praying for a weird color combination. . .

. . . beware what you wish for!

There it was:
- Permanent Green #1
- Cobalt Violet Light
- Douchrome Cactus Flower!!! (yup, I have such a paint tube; in my defense - for the horrified artists among you - I bought it at a moment of weakness; it looked gorgeous on the supplier's website! I am only human!!).

Oh.

- - - My.

- - - - - - God.

The JohnnyB, seeing my expression, snickered "Happy now?", and went to gloat in the living room.

Well, I did say I want a wacky combo, right? so now it was time to pick up the gauntlet and the hideous combination of paints. Again, I couldn't resist the urge, and started a painting at 10:30pm, totally at loss as for what do I do with such colors!

And then I realized that when you get kicked out of your comfort zone, you just have to activate your brain, get creative, go beyond, push the envelope and other clichés.

I did.

"Cactus Flower", Watercolor W/N CP Paper, 11" x 10"

Thanksgiving

This year, Thanksgiving was not only a wonderful get-together with good friends and great food. It also gave me a chance to take some truly wonderful photos and enrich my stash of references for potential future paintings.

After a couple hours of fun chatting and snacking on great appetizers, dinner was served. All the kids sat around the table, with steamy plates in front of them. They started giving their thanks (characterized by a wide spectrum that went all the way from family and friends to Wii...), as us grown-ups watching with gurgling stomachs.

I, as always, was on the hunt with my camera, working it like a machine gun.

The best photo was of MistyN. She was leaning her head on her hands ever so gracefully, listening to the others, and looking both pensive and amused. The light on her face and hands was perfect, her hands were just in the right pose - an irresistible sight.

I used to wait with new photos, thinking I am obliged to paint from ones taken earlier. However, WackieM told me that when she takes a photo she's really excited about, she goes for it right away, while it's still fresh in her mind. Makes much more sense, and I decided to follow the master's advice.

Here are the first two attempts - small (5"x8") drawings, done with Tombow water-based ink pen and light washes.

There's a lot to improve (ahhhhh, hands are so hard to deal with!), but I do like the mood.

I am looking forward to give it a go with watercolor! Time to get back to some real painting.

The definition of an idiot...

...is doing something the same way over and over again yet expecting a different outcome.

Ah, I am such a procrastinating chicken!

Big busy times are over for now. I can paint for real, and stop escaping to these little sketches in front of the TV. no more excuses. On Friday, stretched 8 half-sheets of watercolor paper, all ready to go - - - and there I am, yet again, sketching from a photo I found in a magazine.

"It's only an exercise", I tell myself.

"Just for practicing", I assure me.

"It's not gonna come out good anyway", I plead to the little voice in me that keeps saying 'Stop it!'.

And it's not like I do not have enough photos of my own. Noooooooooooooo... I have plenty of those, taken with LumiB and her predecessors, and I keep taking more and more. And some of them are good! REALLY good!

So, why do I keep reverting to TV and magazines? I will never be able to show them at an exhibit or sell them, as they are actually someone else's art that I based mine on. So, does that fact make me feel less committed, thus more free, when I sketch or paint? Two of my favorite - and most successful - paintings were done from a photo I found online, or in a magazine. They both turned out incredible! Those who see them gasp "Ah, you just HAVE to enter these in a show!!!". And yet, alas, both can only be hung on our own walls.

With that in mind, why do I keep doing the same mistake over and over again? Am I just a repetitive idiot? (that is a rhetorical questiion. No need to answer it, thankyouverymuch).

OK then. I hereby decide, pledge and make a pact: from now on, I shall paint from my own photos only. No more wading in the shallow water comprising the comfort zone of uncommitment.

And may the reprimanding gaze of disdain by the girl in this little sketch be my reminder.

TV Inspired, TiVo Enabled

Busy times call for lack of painting. The couple of months have been crazy, and last week I decided that in order to keep my ability to ever paint again, I have to keep exercise my eye, hand and brush, just so to not lose it altogether.

WackieM's blog keeps me going, big time. I try to find the time to follow the drawing and painting challenges she comes up with, and they then yield new fun ideas, opening new doors and setting me off on new journeys. Very short journeys, for now, but one day...

Recently, I found that I can no longer sit still and watch TV. Whenever a great face, a compelling expression or a wonderful light pattern appears on the screen, I grab whatever I have in hand, and start drawing/sketching it. Just can't resist the urge. Poor The JohnnyB, he is getting used to coming home and then gaze for an hour at a frozen picture on the screen. So, to be fair to him, I do try to do it mostly during the day, in between the trillion things that need to be done. 10 minutes here, and hour there - and I actually manage to produce some art. On a small scale, not at the quality of an actual painting done when you have the time and mental bandwidth to really do it, but - it helps to get the stress away.

Well, most of the time...

Yesterday I was trying to use the Elegant Writer pen, that has ink that gorgeously separates when you touch a wet brush to it. At least when WackieM touches it. I took my highest quality sketchbook, took one of these pens, and did a loose drawing, intending to dissolve some of the lines. I then took a brush, wetted it, touched the drawing, and waited for the magic to happen.

Nothin'.

"Must be the color. I'll try the black, which is more responsive", I heartened myself.

Again - nothing.

The lines stood still, as if they are Californians during an earthquake that has not proven yet to be serious. The drawing stared at me, crude and coarse-lined.

Needless to say, I was not at all relaxed.

I called WackieM with wrath, and made an S.O.S. plea. She was surprised, and advised me to try it on different papers. Nothing worked, until I remembered a Bristol Smooth Surface drawing block that I once bought at the art store, not quite sure why.

I decided to give it one more try...

(click to enlarge)

...and then proceeded to a couple of hours of pure fun. I love it!!!

These are done from paused scenes of the British movie "Enchanted April", which offered a wealth of great faces and expressions. And no, the one in the middle is not a broken-nosed female wrestler. I just did not have the time to go back and fix it...

On a different note, I was watching the Van Gogh episode of Simon Schama's Power of Art.

The actor playing Van Gogh was very convincing (two ears, though...), and one scene had the most irresistible light pattern, which yielded a very long TiVo pause, and four bozzettos. I took the artistic license to not show the fourth one, which turned out pathetic! (Hey, it's my blog - I can cheat...).

The JohnnyB claims the color scheme I chose is weird and haunting. Duh! color is one way to convey mood. "weird and haunting", Eh? Well, so was Van Gogh.

And so, on this cheery note:

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

Fast-Food Art

"So, am I really not going to draw or paint for the next 3 weeks?", I whined.

Our annual show reception is coming up on Sunday, then a board meeting, then our Annual Meeting - - - Whoa!!

When you are a painter, and do not have the proper time to do it, or your head is too busy with other stuff, it starts to get to you at some point. You really Really REALLY want to paint, but you simply can't dedicate the appropriate bandwidth for it.

In that case, to relieve the urge, you grab whatever you have nearby, do a quick drawing, sketch or doodle. It's a bit like going for fast-food when you are extremely hungry but don't have time for a decent meal.

Luckily, WackieM had yet another challenge on her blog: Phonebook drawing. You take an old phonebook, and draw with ink on its pages. As she says. "This is such a liberating surface because you really aren't worried about messing up an expensive piece of paper...and...look how many pages you have to work with! "

To be honest, I wasn't thrilled about it at all, as I thought it's just like drawing on any paper, so what's the big deal about it?

Still, today I got so sick and tired of doing all the stuff for the reception, that I decided to put everything aside for an hour or two. After dealing with an endless ToDo list that seems to keep getting longer, I wanted to just do careless drawing, not work on a future painting or anything that will feel like yet another commitment. Y'know, some artistic fast-food.

I turned the TV on, and chose a British crime drama ("Waking The Dead" - GREAT series, by the way!) that features some incredible faces. Grabbed a phonebook, different kinds of ink, some bamboo brushes and twigs, and set myself in front of the TV in the living room (yes, The JohnnyB, of course I laid a protective sheet over the new laminate floor - what do you take me for?). Whenever I saw an interesting and expressive face, I paused and drew it (TiVo is a wonderful thing!).

And then I understood.

IT IS SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO COOL!!!

I think it really does have a lot to do with the fact I was not working on precious drawing paper.

Like, pfffffffffrrrrrrrrr, it's a phonebook, who cares? If it doesn't come out right, just toss it, and do another, get very loose and experimental. Of course, I cannot just follow instructions - I have to explore what's beyond... so I also used some of The JohnnyB's old beer-brewing magazines, which have this neat sleek paper that makes a very fun surface to work on.

I experimented with Sumi Ink, Shellac-Based Ink and my all-time favorite: Walnut Ink, alternating between bamboo brushes, twigs (yes, twigs), and the eye-dropper-like lid of the shellac ink jar.

I'll probably do more and more such sketches, but I am posting these now, before the week gets even busier.

(Click to enlarge)

ArtPact #11

(Originally published on February 23, 2007).


Since I hardly had time for painting before we went to Grenada, and couldn't really paint while there, I turned to sketching.
It's a fun activity, very elating, the best way to pass time, and very, VERY asocial, as the person you are with gets totally bored.
And yet, 5 minuets here, 15 minutes there - and you get your daily exercise for the hand, the eyes and the right side of the brain.

Obviously, most impressions - and sketching time - were while on the beach.

Here is one from our brief visit to the pretty beach of Lance Aux Epines:
These two highly energetic toddlers kept the sand, the waves - and mostly their parents - very, very busy.

And, at the same beach, some older local kids, who were hanging out, jumping into and out of the water, pulling their boat, exercising like crazy and pretty much having a great time and looking very, very dude-ish.



A couple of days later we took a ferry to the little island of Carriacou.
The trip there was great, as you get to see the whole west shore of Grenada in quite a slow motion, then the ride gets bumpy - as you go over the infamous Kick 'Em Jenny - and when you get to Carriacou after the 90-minute trip, you have an interesting color, something between sickly-green and tan...

So, here is an obligatory sketch of boats anchored in turquoise Caribbean water. I skecthed it while we were waiting for the ferry to take us back to Grenada.
It just started to rain, so this one is sketched with ink, watercolor pencil and a couple of raindrops. Oh, and maybe a spot of two of coconut ice-cream. (they didn't have the nutmeg ice-cream there!).

And - just before the ferry has arrive, that one is of a local Carriacou man talking to some tourists. (who obviously weren't interesting enough to sketch...).

A day or two later, back in Grenada, The JohnnyB and I have finally succumbed to what an island vacation is really all about: hanging out on the beach, having a lazy lunch, reading a book, falling asleep on the beach-chairs, and getting the ultimate sunburn. (that part was reserved for The JohnnyB, that is. I was good, and used sun-screen!).

We chose the beautiful and quite-secluded beach of La Sagesse for that day, and while the JohnnyB was being roasted, I sketched the people, one of them a very sweet elderly tourist, who would giggle all the way to the water, and then start screaming like a teenager, as the water were a bit cool.
She did it each and every time she went in the water, to the merriment of us all.

ArtPact #3

(Originally published on December 8, 2006).


OK, OK...

I admit: I've been stalling until now.

I've had all the good reasons: It's been a crazy week, I was sick, sleepless, over-stressed and busy.
And yet - a pact is a pact.

I actually started the second painting of Nitzku, and it's now reached that depressing stage of being beyond the start (so I can no longer cling to the convenient excuse of "Oh, it's just the first layer"), but not even close to be finished (and I have no idea how to continue).
If you are a painter yourself, you know this stage very well.
It's when you are sure you've lost every hope of ever painting well again.

That shall pass, but not today.

And yet, since I made a pact, I need to post something.
And, since I have nothing else from this week, I am reverting to the sketches I did yesterday at the Presentation Center paint-out.
While the rest of the group was capturing the wonderful landscape, I didn't even try.

You see, I'm one of them peoples that when I see an incredible landscape, I absorb it through my eyes (and the eye of LumiB), then I take a deep breath, and then I look around for people, so I can paint or sketch them.

That's me.

It's a gift

And a curse.

(and if you have no idea what I am talking about - go watch Monk.
.You'll thank me later.
.Wipe!!).


Anyway - at the Presentation Center, BlaineyC told me that four Master Gardeners of California were working in the little golf course that was turned into a garden, so I cheerfully went there, asked their permission to sketch them, and spent 2 great hours with the group of four hilarious gardeners.

I did not produce many sketches (as they were way too fun, plus my favorite sketching pens decided to die on me), but these are the first two sketches I did .

Both sketches done on location, both watercolor and ink on paper.
And some footprints of a stray ant.