More thoughts on light.
If you want to know a little story about this unassuming scene, click here.
More thoughts on light.
If you want to know a little story about this unassuming scene, click here.
Finished up the last of my summer paintings yesterday. Here’s one of them. A shame you can’t hear the soft symphony of bug & birdsong found here.
When you’re young, there are things in life you take as a given. Because, what reason would you have to second guess them? As I’ve grown, the one thing I long for with an ache that feels like a part of me is missing, is a garden. (Happily, in my current place we’ve worked hard to set up a mini one, but I still dream of acreage.)
This scene is of the first garden in my life, and I’ll always think of who tended to it, what it taught & provided, and how special it is to have a garden.
Sometimes the ocean really is that purple.
& now I’m enamored with light filtering up through tree lined streets.
An exercise in letting go. Broke my brain a bit, but for the better (I think).
At the point of quick studies and planning paintings with sketches.
A recent one from Balboa Park, I was chased out by a thunderstorm - the thrills of plein air.
Literally. Finally got out to plein air with my new, lightweight set up yesterday. Could’ve done without the sand wasps about my ankles.
There’s something distinctly sensual about working with paint. I think it has a lot to do with its lush fluidity. To be a painter, it is my opinion, you're usually some shade of hedonistic. Or an automasochist. Some days it seems a fine line. (Especially ones where you spend a whole day trying to materialize a flower in oils only to be beat back at every try until a last effort where you swear you've lost your touch / eye for it).
But I digress. This post is about hedonism, mostly, as there's near nothing - for me - more pleasurable than a flower rendered in oils in luxurious strokes. I like to paint my flowers in one pass rather than layered with drying time in between - linseed oil added for that extra gloss and movement. For me it creates a more energetic feel when swipes of paint slide through one another, catch and meld to bring out a subtle color blend, and in the wake leaves the high relief and impression of my brush's intentional path. It's definitely trickier to prevent colors from muddling in this approach, but the reward is that of a painted flower vibrating a bit more on the canvas. Though more punishing in practice, I love a little chaotic, purposeful energy distilled into pigment, worked through to figured petal and leaf.
Opehlia - a woman who went insane because of the irrationality of man. Honestly - I get it.
Been back in California a few months but I feel like I've just gotten here as I'm only now finding time to create. Finally being able to get this painting onto canvas after thinking about it for a year and a half has been a relief.
Back to this. More coming this winter as I force myself into hibernation (my preferred state of being, to be honest.)
Sketchbook experimentation leads to new things. Rolling with it.
Another plein air piece from the Norfolk Botanical Gardens in preparation for an upcoming spring show. This one was a serious challenge with the composition and the tricky lighting that was changing so rapidly as I painted, but it was well worth the effort. (Frozen solid hands and all.)
I can't remember the last time I was so excited for a new year! I've got a lot in the works, and one of the projects I started nearly at the stroke of midnight on the 31st of 2015 is this:
If I could realize this dream in large scale it would be that of a long wall stretching out of sight with carefully arranged canvases telling the small stories that a sprawling meadow keeps to itself.
Needed a break from all the holiday work to create for myself. Out came this little guy. I don't know why, but recently I'm very interested in revisiting my time spent in Venice. I guess I just miss that lovely, lively water.
When the images you see in front of you flatten against your reality, you find yourself in unexpected places.