Time Flies...

...when you are on a break from the blogosphere.

Has it really been 6 weeks?

As with art, one needs some time off from blogging in order to come back with recharged batteries. Or something.

But the good news is that in fact, I've been painting - and quite a bit. A new scene from Portugal is in the making. And a portrait that made me put the Portugal scene aside for a while. And a small flower I made for a friend who was hospitalized. And another portrait of a man whose photo I took last Saturday in an Art & Wine festival and just had to paint him. And...

So, the studio is active and messy, new ideas keep popping up in my mind, I've had a sleepless night with the adrenaline rushing through my (hmm... what does adrenaline rush through? veins? capillaries? Arteries?) followed by a merry night of trying to put what I had in mind to paper - quite exciting, actually.

I will post those once they all reach a finished stage.

Today I can share the little flower I made. By now, you may know that I do not paint flowers. However - a friend from our critique group had a medical emergency. Needless to say, sending flowers came up, but then WebbieM suggested a clever alternative: that instead, we each paint a little flower, as that won't have any issue of potential allergies; plus - they will keep longer. MembieK (whose name should now be changed to EmeritiK) took it a step farther out, suggesting we make a book-thingy from all the painted flowers. FergieJ created one and brought it to critique, where we all glued our little masterpieces into it and wrote something for our friend (who - I am happy to report, is back at home and very well, thank you for asking). This little painted flowery bouquet turned out a real beauty.

Now, if you've been paying attention, you may have noticed that my own name was not among those who came up with great ideas. That's due to the simple fact that I was busy wallowing in sheer terror...

OK - have I mentioned that I do not paint flowers?

Indeed, I was positively terrified: how can I paint a flower? but then again, how can I not be a part of this project that's all about friendship and support?

So, Wednesday night, just before the critique meeting, I got into my studio at 10:30pm, and - - - well, I have to admit: I had fun!

Still claiming my basic right to complain, I informed WebbieM that if I am ever in a hospital, I would like each and every one in the critique group to paint a portrait, just so they go through the same fear I felt.

I know, I know; one should look at everything within the big scheme of things, have the right perspective on life and possess a healthy sense of proportion... And yet: a flower!!!

Anyway, here it is. My second painted flower ever (at least in my adult life). It's tiny: 2.5" x 3.5". But hey, it's a flower.

Portugal Through My Eyes: Évora #1

I am notorious for my obsessive photo-taking while on vacation (and any other time), and loyal to my fame I took dozens of photos in Portugal. OK, more like a dozen hundred of them, and then some. And maybe a bit more.

Don't give me this look! All those white washed houses, the laundry, the people sitting on benches, the tiles, the mosaic on the streets, the people, ahhhh the people! I had to document it, didn't I?

The down side of such an overwhelming amount of photos is that when I approach this stash in desire to paint from them, um... what do I paint first? So, since I was grounded at home wallowing in viruses and tea cups, I strolled through the photos trying to pick one.

Or two.

. . . Or ten.

Now, when it comes to painting Portugal, you cannot avoid painting some architectural elements, which I absolutely dread, to say the least. Y'see, I do figurative work; people, figures, faces, hands - all made of glorious curves and odd shapes and lost edges and beautiful flowing rounded surfaces. Architecture has straight lines. That is, linear, and as The JohnnyB would happily attest (with a deep, deep sigh) - I am not a linear person. So how can I paint linearly?

And yet, should one just stay in one's comfort zone forever and not travel at all to other domains, as challenging as may be?

I decided to start simple. My first candidate was a photo I took in Évora, a wonderful bustling town about 2 hours east of Lisbon. This town has an impressive main square (Praça do Giraldo) with a mighty church (Igreja de Santo Antão) and a 1570 Renaissance fountain (fonte Henriquina) with eight jets that represent the eight streets leading into the square (al uphill, as our sore muscles soon found out...). Hmm, now that I am shamelessly using Wikipedia to show off with all that knowledge I did not have while in Évora, I also see that this square has witnessed thousands of Auto de fes during the period of the Inquisition; 22.000 condemnations, it seems, in about 200 years.

OK then... maybe it's a good think I did not paint this square.

But I digress (told you I'm not linear!).

So, instead of all this glory, I chose to paint a humble mundane scene that I took on one of the streets while I was walking and getting hopelessly lost (Oh but what a town to get lost in).

I started it at 5pm yesterday (very early for me, as I usually begin painting when normal people go to sleep), and was done several hours later.

Being so different than what I usually paint, I was actually having a ball, until it reached the stage when it looked terrible.

But rather than give up, I remembered that while diamonds may be a girl's best friends, a girl who's a painter can find a true kinship with (watercolor police, please turn your heads away, just this time) white gesso and the magic sponge, which I used to cover some lame areas and add some texture to the whole thing.

Y'know?

Architecture is kinda fun to do!

But before I tackle it again, I feel a deep urge to do a portrait in order to relax in my comfort zone.

Acrylics Alert!

Haven't disappeared. Just took a break, turned 46, and - actually been painting.

The kind of painting that takes forever.

No, it's not the procrastinated commission (the deadline is June-ish, so of course I am doing everything I can to not do it yet...). Been working on a new painting that was marinating in my mind for a while; a new style, new medium, new support - and it's having countless iterations.

When I brought it to the two critique groups I belong to, there was a multi-shock effect by me working in acrylics (Nava? Acrylics?) on a relatively nice-sized (Nava?? Big??) canvas (Nava??? Canvas???) with relatively cheery colors (OK, you get the idea...).

There is something very freeing in trying somethign new. Plus, after almost 2 years of intentionally avoiding the use of purely line (I was forcing myself to learn more about shapes), it feels sooooooooooooo good to be back in my comfort zone and play with line like there's no tomorrow.

So - here it is, acrylic on canvas, 24"x24" (hey, stop snickering! To me, that IS big!). Not yet titled, still unfinished, yet to be reworked and metamorphose until I'm happy with it. You are more than likely to see it again in its next stage.

It seems to stir up some serious emotional responses - I wonder what's yours.

Acrylics (yes, me!) on Canvas (yes!!)

Need a Hand?

We had the figure drawing class today. Yes, the one with the talkative teacher, who's driving me nuts with his endless talking and taletelling, mostly since what he says doesn't always have much to do with art.

There are artists who manage to block everything out when they draw or paint. Not me, alas. I'm more the kind who needs the whole world to come to a halt in order to concentrate. And so, this drawing class used to send me home with a headache and murderous thoughts.

The JohnnyB kept telling me "why don't you take your iPod?".

Because.

I avoided this for weeks and months, but last week, after a session that was spent resisting a violent urge to go on a killing spree (and apparently I was not the only one with such aspirations...) I brought my iPod.

As did LimaB.

As did MembieK.

And for the last couple of sessions, the only injuries were the two birds I killed with one iPod: enjoying music while drawing - and blocking out the babbling and the background noise.

Works like magic.

Today we had a great model who showed up with a long dress and a big straw hat. As always, I started with the figure, but then got bored of doing the same thing. I decided to follow the teacher's recurring advice "don't show me what you know to do. Show me what you don't know!". (see - I hear the good stuff despite the earphones!).

Now, what do I not know to do?

A lot of things, But when it comes to the figure, the answer is simple: HANDS!

And our model was doing those graceful hand gestures, which intrigued me much more than the rest of her.

Yes, hands are tough, and I keep avoiding them, but if I never try, I'll go on doing the same thing over and over again and stay in my comfort zone forever.


Too easy, too comfy, and way too boring.

I gave it a go.

Yup, I have a lot more to learn and practice, but hey - it feels good to start facing your demons.

A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Woman?

These days, my sister is going through our parents apartment in Jerusalem. (No, not New Jerusalem, OH... the original Jerusalem. Like, the real one).

A long process of sorting through everything, keeping what needs to be cherished and saying goodbye to the rest.

It's highly emotional, and a big part of letting go.

Being here, I only participate over the phone and emails.

She tells me of things she found, making my memory work overtime trying to remember what they are and what they look like; the smell inside that gorgeous commode(*) where all the snow-white linen sheets were stored; that huge purple crystal bowl that was used only once. The dancing doll (whom I used to call Wilhelmina, for some peculiar reason) with the key in her back; that black and orange dress of my mom; the square bottle of ma'zahr (essence of orange blossom) that my father used when he made his incredible desserts . . . oh yes, nostalgia rules.

From time to time, my sister scans something she found and surprises me with it: old photos that suddenly bring everyone back, alive and well; a letter from my high school informing my parents that I have miserably failed the Chemistry test (that one gave her so much joy I was concerned for her health!).

And today, this awaited in my Inbox: a drawing by moi, from 37 years ago.

I was in third grade, and apparently very proud of this work, as I clearly state the date (Gregorian and Hebrew, and in mom's handwriting, the Roman way of writing it), the grade I was in and the fact that it was done at the lighting of the eighth candle of Hanukkah, at our neighbors place.

Oh yeah, and I have signed it.

Not sure whether it's a self-portrait, and who I am in this masterpiece: the beheaded curly one at the bottom-left? the one with the cute dimples at the top right? or perhaps the cheery hobbit next to my signature?? whatever the answer may be, it's quite apparent that I was into figurative art even as a budding artist. Mostly faces. With a big emphasis on eyelashes.

A note to (my 8.5-year-old) self: good combination of text and images, decent balance achieved by filling up the space. Nice edge variety, and intriguing cropping of the poor torso-less figure up above. Also, interesting overlap of the dimpled diva whose legs become the features of the face underneath. Need to pay more attention to design (I'm guessing it's grid composition here?), try some lost edges here and there, and consider a wider spectrum of expressions.

Bids, anyone?


(*) The JohnnyB insists that 'commode' in American English means toilet(!???). Well, here it's meant as a chest of drawers. I go with the British on this one!

iLaptop!!!

Some of you loyal readers who have been following this blog for the last year or so, have no doubt shed a tear (or two) when reading about our adventures with Dell and Microsoft.

From the dramatic demise of our old laptop that perished with a blow in my lap, to the quest for a new one, to the saga of the desktop who followed suit by committing suicide - - - and much, much more.

Yes, it's true that we got an almost-new laptop for free from Dell, but in the last couple of months, it started to show desire to join its brother in the laptop Heaven. Let's just say that staring at a frozen screen and having to reboot it several times a day has become an ordinary scene in our house. And, when this happens while reading email or browsing the internet (which, if I may say so myself, are relatively traditional ways to use a laptop), this can get to you. It sure was getting to my sense of humor.

And so, at the best of times, when economy is going for a forced landing, we found ourselves in need for a new laptop.

Several weekends ago, The JohnnyB mysteriously said, "do you trust me to buy a laptop?".

Now, y'all probably know by now that to know that The JohnnyB has many talents, but poker face is not one of them (in fact, he's almost as bad as LimaB - it's a tough call between these two). So it took me about 15 seconds to figure out he's going for real novelty this time.

And so, after many debates and considerations, after taking several weeks to decide whether we really want to make such a major step (with reboots galore along that time), I suddenly got an email from DiploK, about a special crazy deal on Apple laptops that are not the blow-your-socks-off-new-aluminum-unibody-multi-touch-glass-trackpad. As in, $400-$500 off.

OK, all we want is a good functioning laptop whose most useful button is not the reboot one. And because the evenings are getting cold, we don't necessarily want our socks knocked off. So this email came in the perfect timing.

Decision took place within 10 minutes.

We ordered on Sunday, and on Tuesday(!!!) afternoon, FedEx has knocked on the door and handed me this beauty: The Apple MacBook Pro! And it's gloriously silvery, not at all the white I was fearing.

Will this lead to a whole new saga?

- - - Will this bring The JohnnyB back to blogging after over a year of silence?

We shall see.

Marveling at Marbling

In between preparations for our next upcoming watercolor show (opens this Saturday!), I went to a demo on Monday, at the other organization I belong to. Not the watercolor-only, but one that's open for all media (and whose shows have been quite good to me :-)

They hold a montlhy meeting with a demonstrator (usually) or a speaker (rarely, as the attention span of artists is a bit... um... hey, look! blue car!).

This month, it was a talented and truly sweet artist, named Yoju . She was showing us the art of Suminagashi, translates to 'Spilled Ink', and is a Japanese the Italian marbling technique. Her English wasn't the best - but it didn't matter. At all. She started creating some cool patterns by dripping ink into water mixed with a gelling agent, played the inks with brushes and tooth picks and then laid a sheet of rice paper on top of the water, cleaned around the edges, pulled it up - and we all WOWed appreciatively at the result. The outcome was incredibly beautiful: a flowing pattern of blacks and white, sensuous lines, curvaceous shapes - we all chanted harmoniously with the known "Ohh, if I could do that!".

And as we were standing around with sheer admiration, she took that stuning masterpiece, crumpled the paper and tossed it to the garbage can, as nonchalant as can be.

A gasp passed across the room.

"Ah, this? this no good enough. This just demo" she said joyously and proceeded to create another not-good-enough pattern. Only this time, well prepared protests from a couple of women have prevented her from destroying that second piece. She gave us a "whatever" look and agreed to put it on the table rather that get rid of it.

And then came the best part of the evening!

See, Yoju didn't just show us what she can do. She came bearing a lot materials for us to play with, set four little bathtubs filled with the magic solution, and motioned that it's time for us to have a go at it. Inks, brushes, rice paper - it was all ours to experiment with.

And experiment we did! Ever seen a bunch of kindergarten kids doing finger painting?

Well, that's not as half the fun that went on there...

I did one piece, then waited garciouly for the lines to dwindle and went for a second. VallieM just kept going - I think she stopped at three just because Yoju had to go home... "It's fun!" she announced to LimaB and me who were thoroughly enjoying watching her.

I returned home extatic, burst through the door and showed The JohnnyB my breathtakingly straight-to-The-New-York-MOMA pieces of art.

"Amazing, no?", I hinted the need for feedback.

"Nope", was the answer.

Did I mention the Minnesotan ultra-honest breed he's coming from?

Back, Kinda.

Back from a vacation in British Columbia, which was bitter-sweet.

We spent 10 days in Vancouver and then Vancouver Island (mostly Victoria).

Being a vacation I anticipated for 10 years (long story), you can imagine my expectations were at their peak. And, as happens with high expectations, reality does not always stand up to them. So, we saw some great views, had wonderful food, had some miserable weather, made some wrong choices as for where to go and what to see, got stuck for some hours on the flight back - It was one of those vacations that actually made us happy to go back home. You live, you learn, you blog.

And now we're back. The JohnnyB to his work, and me to my new freedom.

No longer the president of our watercolor society, I am still involved in a more behind-the-scenes sort of way, and helping maintain the website and organize exhibits, but I've pretty much got my life back.

Which allows me to start painting up a storm, right?

Thing is, after months of not really painting seriously, it's not easy to get back to it. There's this fear that I forgot how to paint, and I know the only thing that can put me back on track is just jump into it and start painting, gain some brush mileage, waste some paint, ruin some paper.

I started doing it at the figure drawing class, but the summer session has ended, and the next one begins only in September.

Which is actually a good thing, as I cannot cling to the straw of a class. I have to paint at home, on my own - the best way to advance and do my own thing, find my own voice again.

So, in the past couple of days, I've been bozzettoing my way back up. I'm in a couch potato Blues mood these days, and - loyal to this, I spend a lot of time in front of the TV.

Rather than fight this, I decided to set a tiny "studio" there - a lap desk, brushes, some paint, bunch of papers and water. And, just as I did when I was stressed in time, whenever I see an image that appeals to me, I pause the TV and make a little painting of it.

No commitment to create a masterpiece, no pressure, no fear of the world coming to an end if it's not successful - it's all about getting my muscles back in shape, about learning to see and choose what's important to render and what's best left out, about combining colors and shapes, about where to put lines.

These two images are my first attempts, done with watercolor on smooth Bristol paper. No preliminary drawing - just the brush.

Not sure the brush mileage I gain this way will get me an around-the-world free ticket, but at least I can eventually upgrade to getting back to business.

Going Emeritus

Ahhh, that sounds so good.

Yup - June 30th was my very last day as the president of our watercolor society. I announced my stepping down several months ago, and since nobody agreed to take the baton from my hand (like Taltul in his time), I had to cope with a lot of requests, pleas and emotional blackmail, all aimed at making me change my mind and stay put. I spent hours, days, weeks contemplating, consumed all the assertiveness I had in me in order to stick with my decision - and the day has come.

Oh say can you see the air going out?

. . . Can you spot my dropped shoulders straightening a bit?

. . . . . . Can you hear the large rock falling off my weary chest?

. . . . . . . . . . Can you trace this wrinkled forehead getting a bit looser, with less line work and texture?

Let's have a moment of quiet here, if I may. Zen, almost:

P H E E E E E E E E E E E E E W ! ! !

My sister, who during her visit witnessed me in action as president several times, both at an all-member meeting as well as at home, asked me if I won't be missing all the action and responsibility and fire extinguishing and crisis solving and peace making and never-ending phone calls and emails and the adrenaline rush and the status (the WHAT!?).

Yup, she is smart.

And she knows me well.

And yes, to be honest, I was somewhat afraid of having mixed feelings, of a sense of regret, a void even.

But, y'know, on the morning of June 30th we had the last board meeting arranged by me. As I did in the year of being the president (and actually, in many a month before I became one...), I arranged-the-meeting-called-for-committee-reports-sent-them-to-the-board-members-ran-the-meeting-assigned-tasks-took-minutes-and-distributed-those-to-the-board. (and the monthly board meeting, mind you, is only one part of what kept me occupied full-time during this year).

And now that it's all said and done, reverting to dude-language: I am like, "Cool!".

Man, was this a busy year!!!

To quote a fellow president (well...), I sometimes feel that during this whole year, "I did not inhale". Only exhaled.

Looking at the blogpost I wrote when I just started, I smile at that young enthusiastic girl, who was so full of energy and excitement and goodwill and plans to change the world (or at least the organization) and I think, "Ah, duckie(*), if you only knew..."

And yet... of the feedback that I hear, I did achieve some things.

We are now on the road to becoming an incorporated non-profit organization (yup, after over 40 years of existing!!! about time, don't you think!? and it was not a trivial thing to pass to some of our members who are not too keen on changes); I drove some other novel ideas in several domains, and I guess I did have an impact.

Oh, also, despite all I've been told, I did not manage to make a certain member hate my guts, as he did with many former presidents. On the contrary - when I announced my stepping down, he came and spoke to me, and actually had tears in his eyes. (and yes, so did I).

And yes, I have gained a lot. A turbo speed steep learning curve from almost zero to nearly 100% has granted me a vast and invaluable knowledge of so many aspects of being in the art world, as well as what makes such a big organization tick. I won some friends, I made a couple of enemies (but hey, one of Mother Theresa’s Paradoxical Commandments says, “If you are successful you may win false friends and true enemies. Succeed anyway"... and who am I to argue with that remarkable woman?). And, I got acquainted to so many people, from fellow volunteers to art museum directors, that this may have been the biggest advantage of all; being a relatively newcomer to this country, it's not easy to have your foreign-hard-to-pronounce-name be known. And now it is.

So, what are a bunch of white hairs, a few sleepless nights, a collection of (well documented!) emails that caused serious palpitations, and some showers of tears (oh yes....) comparing to all this?

I was lucky to work with a board that has some truly incredible women (and one great guy) on it, which made it easier, as I did not really need to know everything. I also got a very helpful hand (and sometimes ear), from a couple of former leaders, whose wise advice was like a CPR and kept me going. And - The JohnnyB was beyond supportive the whole time. He provided some priceless ideas (for which I got the credit, alas) and insights, suffered through going over the monthly Leader's Notes to help me polish them for the newsletter, helped me phrase some responses to some ultra-bitching emails (yeah, those were fun) - I am pretty sure he is also relieved that these days are over. Yup, he is a keeper.

In hindsight, I would have done it again.

But now it's time for becoming Leader Emeritus (that is music to my ears!), and thinking about moi for a change. Yes, I am still volunteering, of course. I'm stayin' as a working bee on our exhibits committee and the website committee (coz those are fun!), and will also be busy supporting our board in leading the organization, and initiating our incoming leader (yup - someone has finally agreed to do it starting January!) - but still, I feel like I am getting my life back.

Did I mention Pheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew?

(*) Courtesy of Val, who warms my heart each time she calls me that.

.

And Now for Something Completely Different...

Our critique group is having an exhibit at a hi-tech company. The opportunity presented itself when someone from that company was at the gym with BearGal, they got into a conversation while being bored to death on the Stairmaster - - - and so the idea was born.

At first, I wasn't very keen on painting anything for that show, to say the least. Y'see, I used to work for that company, and, well... let's not dwell upon the past.

Then, a week ago, WebbieM emailed me about her needing to paint for that show. After I replied to her with a lengthy explanation that I am NOT going to do anything special for that place, and that the maximum I am willing to do is dig some artworks and toss it at their general direction, I thought to myself... like... we are showing at a hi-tech company... The JohnnyB is working for a hi-tech company... well - wouldn't it be fun to make a homage for his stressful time and create a piece of him in that context?

It would.

Spent hours downloading all kinds of chip-design related stuff and images (Google is a wonderful thing!), spent gallons of ink printing them, and was very happy with the pile of material I had to work with.

Then I got stuck. An essential stage in the artistic process.

On Tuesday night, came the muse. at 10pm, I chose an image of The JohnnyB which I have already done for his personal calendar, drew it on a canvas (a first! I always work on paper or matboard for collages), and started to collage, using pieces from the printed material.

My sister watched me, following the process from the start, through the stage of what-the-hell-do-I-do-now, and then went to bed.

By 2am, I was done.

Of course, it had to pass a preliminary review by The JohnnyB in the morning (as, after all, he is featured in it). He gave it a lukewarm look, filed an official complaint about his arm being too big (that's called foreshortening...) and claimed it is still unfinished. Yup, I married him for the ego boost.
I added some finishing touches with a brush, and rushed to the house of BearGal to deposit it in her trusty hands, and see if it would make it into the preview display they were about to hang that day, featuring some selected works.

And lo and behold - - - It made it in!

I guess it is finished, then.

Masked Fun

I am not painting these days. Haven't painted for several weeks before we went on the trip to Utah and Arizona, haven't really painted since we came back.

I'm busy and distracted. My one and only sister is coming to visit us for a month (she's landed in New York today for 5 days on the East Coast, and will arrive to our house on Monday), and it got us in a frenzy of house improvement, or at least converting the house from a pigsty (lot of neglect in the past year) to a welcoming cozy home - not just for her, but mainly for us.

And yet - I do have the urge to dip a brush into some paint and go for it. And am in the eternal catch 22: I have so many images I want to work on that I cannot choose any of them. Plus, after not painting for a while, you kinda get into regression, and need to start two steps behind (at least two, that is). Armed with all these lame excuses - no wonder I haven't visited my studio for quite a while.

In the last couple of days I've been browsing through Rhonda Carpenter's Watercolor and Words art blog, and was inspired by her recent work, of going nuts with masking fluid, letting it dry, and then pouring watercolor all over. I decided this might be a good way to loosen up and get over the well known fear of a white paper staring you in the eyes. Plus - I am on a quest for new ways to get away from tight realism, and this process has really appealed to me. Nothing frees you up like making a mess and then creating a painting from it. (Thanks, Rhonda, for the inspiration!!)

I took 3 different color triads, and played with five pieces of paper this way. Without thinking of the subject, I simply tried to create interesting shapes with the masking fluid, smearing it with a scrap piece of foamcore and using spray bottle to move it around a bit (hmm... still need to work on that). Waited for it to completely dry (which wasn't hard, as we're having a heat wave as I write. 94 degrees tomorrow!), and then poured the paint. It was pure fun to see the colors intermingle and become acquaintances without the interruption of the brush. When this dried out too, I removed the mask (which is a very annoying stage - I hate doing that!), and was rewarded with five pieces of paper with interesting colors and patterns.

OK... now what?

I can see things in some of these, but nothing really screams at me yet.

Because it's so much fun to make these, I think I'll just start a pool of poured papers, and use them when the right mood and subject strikes. Some will serve as backgrounds, some as under-paintings, and some will sit in the dark closet until their day comes to be torn and reincarnate as pieces for collage.

Still, they look really cool even as they are now. So, I played with them a bit on my "Picture It!" program (the poor cousin of Photoshop), and - lo and behold, just juxtaposing them together came out as a cool abstract piece! (The JohnnyB claims he likes it more than most pieces of nonobejctive work he's seen).

Sometimes, art can be just for fun - I need to remember this more often.

Lose That Edge!

No, I have not disappeared.

Been busy.

Busy planning an upcoming trip of The JohnnyB and me, busy preparing for an upcoming (and a very long awaited) visit to us, busy with contemplating some art competitions, and busy with some ongoing mood swings that seem to follow the weather.

And, in between, I've managed to paint.

LimaB told me recently, "Looks like you are on to something - keep going". Indeed, I seem to be on a new path now, style-wise. I am not quite sure where I am heading, but the journey sure is fun.

This image just called for some lost edges, interesting shapes and ambiguity, and I decided to try and keep working with it for a while and find new ways to express it, until I find this 'something'.

As WackieM reminded us all in her blog, "you keep changing the image, you do the same thing but change the image. If you keep the image, you do something different each time". That's the great idea behind Mike Bailey's Beyond The Obvious class, and it's good to be reminded of it once in a while.

So, here are the first two versions of Jethro.

Both on Tyvek (a surface I am falling in love with more and more).

The first one done in watercolor, with a limited palette. The second done in walnut ink (I love this stuff!!!) - and an even more limited palette. (click to see the bigger version).

More to come.

The Quest for the Perfect Shape

It's been almost a year since the last time I took a workshop.

Interesting thing, workshops. Some artists attend every workshop available, some hardly ever take any. I am closer to the second kind. In my short time as an artist, I have found that technique-related workshops confuse the hell out of me. I guess I am a self-taught kinda gal, as I learn best from my own experience, exploring what appeals to me at the time.

I also learned to stay away from instructors who teach their technique and style, rather than help you grow. Which is why am limiting myself to those who are more about providing you with the infrastructure of design, composition and color. Those are hard to come by, but they do exist. One exquisite example is Mike Bailey's Watercolor Beyond The Obvious class (yup, the one in which you paint 20 paintings of the same thing and curse the day you started...). That is, by far, the best thing an artist can go through, as it changes forever the way you approach painting! Another one is WackieM's class, where she pushes you to explore and experiment without trying to make you paint like her (Ha! if I only could!!!).

And this week, I am taking what seems like another such workshop, with John Salminen - an incredible artist whose work I admire. He does a lot of urban scapes and some figurative work, and as he attests, he is somewhere in between obsessive compulsive and anal retentive painter. Y'see, you don't just look at his paintings - you get mesmerized by them, as they are a wealth of interesting tiny shapes and little surprises and colors that pop up unexpectedly for your eyes to feast on. You just wanna to stand there and savor it forever.

His paintings have such strong design to them, that I decided I just have to take this workshop and bask in his greatness. Maybe some of that would rub off. There's always hope, eh?

At the very beginning of the workshop, he said is going to have us do only one painting during the first 3 days, and I thought it would be neat to post the stages and share the wisdom I am getting, so you see how something that starts from what-the-hell-is-that gradually becomes a masterpiece - or a complete disaster: we'll know in 3 days.

The process he is taking us through is as far as can be from the way I paint, and I keep fighting my inclination to rebel against it with all my might - which is a good sign, as it means I'm gonna learn a lot. Today was the first day. He gave a short talk (while I kept taking photos of him - he has a great face!) and then had us begin the labor. First, we did simple drawings of four objects he that chose:
1. Empty paper bag
2. Head of a spray bottle
3. Tape dispenser
4. Piece of plastic with a clip.

Yeah, I know... v-e-r-y inspiring.

Then, we took a tracing paper, and started tracing the four drawings on top of each other, so the objects got totally lost and became one big random jumble of shapes. Oh yeah, it looked like a terrible mess!

Next thing was to transfer this grand drawing to a full-sheet of watercolor paper. Aghast, we looked at each other and at him... I mean, this is one complicated arbitrary drawing! But, with a blue-eyed smile, he suggested that we fold the tracing paper to get 16 rectangles, then draw 16 rectangles on the sheet of watercolor paper, and transfer the bits of that jigsaw puzzle, one rectangle at a time. Well, that was perhaps the most boring thing I did since I started painting. Excruciating would be an understatement...

...an hour or so later, when we all looked 10 years older, we were then sent on a quest to find "one big white shape" in our drawing. Not just a shape, mind you, but a good one. What's a good shape? Ah - it should be irregular, unpredictable, oblique, connected - and touch the edges of the paper (at least 3 times). And it needs to occupy a third of the space. How do we find it? by connecting lines from the shapes galore on our paper. Oh, and make sure it has a dominance of either geometric or curvilinear lines.

We each worked on finding our big white shape and went to get it critiqued by him (I got mine approved without any corrections - yay!). I went for a curvalinear dominance (not a big surprise for a figurative painter) and proceeded to the next step: surround my shape by painting a light value in the negative spaces around it.

Finally - color gets in the picture!!! we get to use our brushes!! But wait - we have to consider temperature dominance: do we want the painting to be cool or warm?

And right then and there I stopped whining, as I saw where he was going with this torture. Y'see, it's one thing for an instructor to lecture about design and have the students sit and nod with glazy eyes. But - when the students are forced to work hard and incorporate all the design considerations into the process, in a way that is laborious and annoying, well, that makes sure it will stick! A similar method to Mike Bailey with his 20 paintings: they make you suffer and curse and bitch and moan - and from that comes greater art, as MembieK told me (would have been more convincing if she was not so totally gloating about the fact that I am the one taking this workshop and not her!).

From that also comes significant exhaustion, especially after a week of last-minute arrangements for our annual party and the grand event on Saturday, which has left me highly adrenalized but tired beyond belief.

Time to get some sleep - another workshop day awaits tomorrow!

Evolution of a Painting

While the wounds from the periprastically-given harsh critique of Knox on my art are not even close to forming a scar - - - I am still painting!!

Santa Claus was very nice to me this Christmas, did his research on my beloved Daniel Smith site, and got me this glorious 3 Hematite Color Set. Great choice, The JohnnyB! (Uhm, I mean, Santa).

Having said that - a couple of days before Christmas I felt the urge to add some color to my art. I mean, everyone around me is painting with cheery colors and vibrant intense hues, and I keep blending all those gorgeous colors and toning them down to create varying shades of neutrals.

Am I chromophobic?

As a first step towards salvation, I decided to detach a bit from the Sikh man (who kinda calls for muted colors) and go on a new departure.

About 1.5 years ago, I took Mike's superlative Beyond The Obvious class for the second time. (It's the class in which you paint 2 full-sheets a week, creating 20 versions of the same subject). In that second class, my subject was the kneeling figure of Christina, a lovely model very well known among artists in this area for her repertoire of poetic poses. While some of the paintings from that class turned out nice (Global Warming being one of them), some were real bad. Took me a long time to get the courage, but last spring, I cropped one of those full-sheet paintings to create a quarter-sheet for a show.

It's always fun to get into a failed painting and alter it, as if you succeed - the results are always surprising, while if you fail - hey, it started off as a failure anyway, right?

Since that painting had some very nice colors and gorgeous textures (courtesy of Kleenex which I glued onto the watercolor paper), I kept the part that was not included in the new painting on my studio wall. I would glance at it from time to time, knowing that one day I'll know what to do with it.

That day finally arrived on Christmas! I looked at that piece of paper, and suddenly saw the image of a tall slim woman in a flowing dress, dancing around (no, we did NOT have funny mushrooms for dinner!). Since the original painting was done with Manganese Blue Hue, Permanent Orange and Winsor Violet, it even meets WackieM's 3-color challenge (no lottery, though). Working with the same colors, I tried to bring out the image that I saw in my mind's eye.

- - - easy to say!

After 30 minutes of frustrating labor, I decided to take a break to document the stages, and get away from the painting that started to annoy me.

The resulting photo on the screen of LumiB was turned 90 degrees clockwise - and looking at it, I saw a head in profile...

Now we're talking!

Cheerfully retreating to my comfort zone, I decided to give up on the dancing lass, and go for a portrait. I painted along, blocking the shapes, sculpting the features, but I was having a lot of trouble with the hair. The JohnnyB who came in to see what keeps his lovely wife busy and gives him some peace and quiet, commented "something is weird with her hair - looks like she's wearing a hat or somethin'".

Ahhh - what a revelation - looks like she's wearing a hat? OK then, a hat it is!!

I worked on this one for quite a while, stopping to photo the evolution of it. It was fun to go on such a journey of revealing what was hiding in that beautiful bluish chaos, epsecially when the paint was very liftable thanks to the acrylic medium I used to glue down the tissue paper 18 months ago.

Since it's the new cool thing to do in art blogs, I created a slideshow of the stages:

The resulted painting is mostly done from my imagination, but since I am not yet experienced enough with the face to just make one up, I kept glancing at the Cactus Flower painting for reference. So, I guess this one counts as the fourth version of MistyN, with a hat and sans the hands.

"Out of the Blue", Watercolor and tissue paper on W/N CP Paper, 13" x 9"

And I even managed to not gray all the colors! Well, not completely...

Displaced

Except for the cheery snowmen, I haven't painted in over 2 weeks. There is no better cure for being down than taking a pen or a brush and letting it go on the paper, but the catch is that sometimes, when you are in such a mood, even that seemingly tiny amount of energy is too much.

So, I didn't paint.

I no longer fight it or force myself, as for me, art cannot come on demand. As simple as that.

On Monday, the plumber came to save the irrigation on our front lawn from its gloomy status. And he was one cool plumber! with incredible face, dreadlocks and a cap; when his wife joined him, with her own super-long dreadlocks and a hair band - I could not contain myself. The JohnnyB understood immediately, and gallantly went on a photo-documentary quest of "the work", trying to capture them, with little success. After all, how DO you take shots of people working on the pipes without looking like some freak?

"Why don't you ask them for permission?".

Aha! 'cause once you do, they start posing or being very self-aware of how they look and act, and the magic is gone. Since I am after the essence of people rather than what they look like, photos taken with permission are not quite painting material. It's gotta be sneaky.

As WackieM, the famous face hunter, says, "Well, accept there will be photos you'll never take, and be grateful for the ones you do get".

I gave up, and drove to Trader Joe's to get groceries. Stuck behind a long line of cars at a red light, I saw a man at the end of the block, waiting to cross the road. An old man, with a walking cane and a bag in his other hand, wearing a coat. He had a very long white beard that enjoyed a life of its own, dancing in the cold wind, and a white turban. He looked so out of place, that in my current mood of displacement, I couldn't help wondering how he is feeling, an undoubtedly traditional man, living in the midst of hi-tech.

Other people would just go on wondering and move on. Not me - I snatched LumiB (blessing the long red light), zoomed in with the 12.5X power and took a shot. Too far, damn it! He started crossing the road, getting nearer, but the light turned green, the cars started to move - - - consumed by the frustration over the plumber's face, I was determined to get this one! and so, driving with my left hand, I snapped another shot. Not having time to zoom in, his face ended up occupying only about 1% of the photo, needless to say no details of his features, hardly any notion of light and shadow on his face, except his beard and his turban, that from that distance, seem to have melted into one shape.

Not an easy call, as I am not yet a wiz in making up the details.

I let it sit for 2 days, and yesterday decided to go for it, using WackieM 3-color-lottery challenge again. This time, the dice had an interesting combination for me: Perylene Maroon (a gorgeous rich dark red color that I love), Ultramarine Violet (OK...) and Phthalo Yellow Green (an almost acidic color, that soooooooooooo doesn't go...).

I decided to use the Tyvek paper that I got from WackieM 2 weeks ago. Yes - Tyvek, as in what is used for mail envelopes, water intrusion barriers on houses and coveralls for workers. Yes, you can paint on it! Hated it to bits in the first 5 minutes, as it behaves very differently than traditional watercolor paper, but as I got used to it, I was in love! Not only does this paper has an incredible feathery texture that adds interest, it is also very forgiving, as you can lift paint and go back to almost white (or a ghost hue of the lifted color).

OK then... what do we have here: an indecipherable face, a non-trivial color combination, and a new kind of paper. Is it wise to tackle all these at the same time? Of course not, but - as The JohnnyB would be more than happy to assure you: logic was never part of the deal.

FoodieP emailed me, "Be it sooner or later I’ll be eager to see your post of the bearded man". Ok then, here are my first 2 attempts. Both done with the same set of colors mentioned above, plus black to achieve darks, on Tyvek paper. Click to enlarge.

Studies for "Displaced", Watercolor on Tyvek, 9" x 6"

.

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From Thanksgiving to Hanukka

...and I continue skipping between Sam and MistyN.

WackieM has come up with a new challenge for this month: paint any subject, using only 3 colors. Interesting - but wait! you don't get to choose the colors, but actually let fate make the decision. As she put it, "Any subject, any style but you are limited to 3 colors plus black and white. The way you select the three colors is the fun part. On separate slips of paper, write down each of your watercolor tubes of paint and put them in a jar. Shake it all up and then pull out 3 slips of paper. Those are your colors to work with."

Now... I shamefully admit that I have over 100 watercolor tubes (and that is without the 50 crappy ones I got when I just started painting and a smart store owner managed to sell them to me, promising "They are second to none". Yeah, right...). So, with the suggested method, I would never get to the actual painting!

The JohnnyB heard my outcry, and suggested to use dice. Apparently, the man has a 12-sided dice and an 8-sided one, which makes it easier. Since my paints are kinda sorted by hue (the blues live together in one drawer, the reds reside in a another - and so on), I went through some complicated mathematical calculations, throwing one dice to choose the drawer, and then another toss to select the color. Took some left-brain thinking - and these muscles are now sore.

This challenge came just in time, as I was trying to figure out which colors to use for painting MistyN.

Voila - no need to think anymore. The dice has spoken: Cobalt Blue, Ultramarine Violet and Organic Vermilion (which is an orangey red, highly toxic; I shall not lick my brush this time).

I went for the first attempt, using these three colors, plus black to create some darks. Both Cobalt Blue and Ultramarine Violet are wimpy when it comes to getting dark values, and the black helped create some very cool darks for the background and shadows.

Thing is - there was nothing really exciting about the colors, as these are colors I may have normally used for a portrait anyway! WackieM kept getting wacky colors for her challenges, as did LimaB, which forced them to push the envelope - and all I had was this usual combo.

Which made the painting a bit too ordinary. Yes, nice light pattern, almost a candle-lit mood, but - I wasn't thrilled about it.

I almost decided to give up on the subject. Painting young beautiful women is always a challenge - their faces are too precious to mess up with. Plus, I usually go for lines or texture in my paintings - and young faces do not have either. I was about to sadly depart from the gorgeous photo I took at the Thankgiving dinner and move on to another subject.

But then, The JohnnyB came to the rescue, and got a lot of credit points!

"What do you expect?", he asked, "This is your first attempt at painting her! Of course you are being cautious and just trying to copy what you see".

With this alibi in mind, and with WackieM's encouragement to explore this further and maybe try different surfaces to work on, I suddenly remembered the gold gesso I bought a couple of years ago, and used it only once, with disastrous results.

I decided to give it another go. I smeared the gesso over watercolor paper, created some texture with the brush and with some stamping, and let it dry.

"I'll paint on it tomorrow", I promised myself.

"Maybe", sneered my procrastinating self.

Then I went to look for Hanukka candles, as we only have 4 left from last years. Couldn't find any, anywhere!!

Later that evening, The JohnnyB lit the candles (improvised ones, that actually look quite cool!!) in his charming desecrating manner. I went into my studio, looked at the gessoed paper - - -

- - - and 4 hours later, I was gazing at an almost finished painting. I just could not resist the urge.

Ahhh, what fun! Not only did the gesso create a very forgiving surface that enabled lifting and correcting, it also lent itself to creating wonderful textures.

I tried to stick with the challenge colors, but then figured that by using gold gesso, I am already introducing a fourth color, and thus am not sticking to the rules anyway. So I changed the red to a different one, and later used more intense blue and violet to add some darks.

And so, with no further ado, here is my second attempt:

"Thankgiving", Watercolor and Gold Gesso on W/N HP Paper, 14" x 10"

It's looking very good next to the Hanukka candles - almost as if they are the source of light!

SOLD!!!

I wanted to paint.

I really did.

Honestly.

I even had the time.

But I didn't. Instead, I spent some quality time with my mat cutter, on the quest of cutting a double mat for a little bozzetto that I like a lot. A personal favorite, which I consider a breakthrough.

I measured twice - and once more for luck, while cursing the imperial system and its evil eighths and sixteenths of an inch that were lurking in every corner. (Are you ever gonna convert to the sane, metric system, people?!?). Using all my fingers, my tongue stuck out and my self confidence sliding down, I finally managed to cope with the calculations, feeling as incompatible as I ever did.

When I got to the cutting itself, I took special care to make the cuts flawless and clean.

I really wanted it to look perfect.

After all, it is not every day that I mat the very first painting I've ever sold!!!

Who'd have thought that this little painting would intrigue so many people, causing them to try and guess what's the story behind it? It was truly fascinating to witness all the interpretations, that went from nocturnal strangulation(!) through saving from drowning to a woman taking off her mask as she goes to sleep, no longer having to pretend.

Only one of my blog readers actually got what I really painted. A week later, she informed me she wants to buy it - and tomorrow it will be FedExing its way to her.

She claims she is very excited about this. Well, not as much as I am. It's a huge compliment when a person wants to own an artwork of yours. HUGE!

It's so encouraging, so rewarding to know that what you put on paper has touched someone to that extent - and at the same time, it's quite hard to part from it.

Which is why I am so glad it's going to a good home - - - Blogauthor and Wheeler, hope you enjoy it!

I believe I can now be considered a professional artist. And I wonder - can I say I have a patron? :-)

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.

My Main Man, Sam

As you can see from the accumulating art-related posts, I am celebrating my new relative freedom from organizing and preparing for annual events and rehearsing speeches and solving crises and attending to last-minute issues.

Some people may do that by enjoying a nice glass of wine or a cold mug of beer. Some will go on a shopping spree. I am doing what I have missed the most during all these weeks (months, even!) - tidying up my studio, delving into my art supplies, and using them.

Following my decision to stop using other people's images as a reference, I have started to browse through the vast treasure of the long forgotten photos I took on my own; each and every one of them tells a story, invoking a memory from another place and time.

And so, I'd like to introduce you to Sam.

We met Sam on the little island of 'Atiu, in the Cook Islands. A fascinating island, composed of bush and petrified coral, with its own culture and lifestyle. As opposed to the neighboring islands, 'Atiu's stormy shores prevent it from being a turquoise haven for laid-back swimming and snorkeling vacation, no fancy resorts or restaurants. Obviously, it does not get that much traffic; during the 2 days we spent there, the number of tourists on the island was a record: all 13 of us!

Such a tiny island, with so much to do! During our short time there, we visited the 'Atiu Fibre Arts Studio (and brought home 3 stunning works of fiber art), went on a traumatic hike to see birds that live in a cave (why traumatic? 'cause walking on that petrified coral was like walking on many, many knife blades), enjoyed a tour to a coffee plantation, danced with the local kids at an island night, and - went to a tumunu ceremony hosted by Sam and The Boys. In a small hut, hidden in the bush, we were offered beer brewed from oranges left to ferment in a big wooden barrel made of a coconut trunk. We all sat in a circle, and one wrinkled man, whom we shall call the barrel keeper, was dipping a coconut shell in the barrel and handing it to each of us. The coconut shell circled around once or twice (very few of us went for a third round - needless to say, The JohnnyB being one of them), the beer was warm, with a faint taste of oranges, and very strong. To the horrified dainty ones amongst you - yes, there was a lot of double-dipping going on.

While the others were enjoying the dizzying beer and listening to the music played by "the boys", I was ogling the leader of the gang, named Sam. He sat there, introvert, watching it all with the indifferent eyes of a man who has seen far more interesting views than a bunch of tourists at a paid ceremony. He looked tired. And sick. And sad. And so vulnerable. He made me want to cry. He had a face that was just asking to be commemorated - one of those faces that grant an award to the lucky National Geographic photographer who gets the perfect shot.

Being the touristy event that it was, everyone took photos of each other, the hut, the scenery, the beer - and I snatched a close-up of Sam. An amazing photo. So amazing, it is a huge challenge to paint, and quite intimidating to capture with my brush. There is not much I can do to improve it, and it's so precious I'm scared to mess it. Alex Powers, in his book "Painting People with Watercolor" (a serious candidate to be the best book about portrait painting), says "When a subject for a painting is extremely exciting... it inhibits changes and consequently curbs creativity."

Yup - I am now facing exactly this.

And yet, how can I resist?

Our visit to 'Atiu was 4 years ago - and Sam's photo kept haunting me all that time, waiting for me to get good enough to dare painting him.

Well, I don't know if I have reached that desired state of being, or whether I ever will. But - yesterday I made the first attempt.

A failed attempt, in my humble opinion. And yet, just like when making crepes, the first one is always sacrificed, as it comes out burnt, overworked and soggy. Once I got the first rendering of Sam out of my system, I was free to get more creative and daring.

This second one was done 'just for fun' on bristol paper, with the Elegant Writer and some layers of light watercolor washes. I think it managed to capture the expression.

My third attempt was done following WackieM's weekly drawing challenge: a shape drawing. An excruciatingly hard thing for the line painter that I am.

Still, as the word challenge is blurted into the air, the Aries in me starts galloping towards the gauntlet...




...and now I am seriously considering converting to shapes.