Lone Survivor

 Lone Survivor

4 x 6",   oil on canvas panel

The clean up of an oil palette in preparation for a new painting evolved into this painting with a palette knife.

Its similar to Abandoned in the Garden, with a few new colours introduced into it.  The hot yellow and green give a different feel to it.  The last survivor in the garden, screaming for attention from a bee to ensure its legacy.  The colours are very saturated in this piece and that is part of the appeal.  Pure and strong without being muted. 

You can purchase this little survivor on Daily Paintworks.

Tragedy of Commons

 The Tragedy of Commons

5 x 7", oil, canvas panel

2012 is the 20th anniversary of the cod moratorium in Newfoundland and Labrador.  The impact on culture and life has been dramatic in the province with the withdrawal of what was once a livelihood for many people who worked on the ocean.  The moratorium in 1992 marked the largest industrial closure in Canadian history. Overnight 35,000 people became unemployed.

The tragedy of commons  is a dilemma arising from the situation in which multiple individuals, acting independently and rationally consulting their own self-interest, will ultimately deplete a shared limited resource, even when it is clear that it is not in anyone's long-term interest for this to happen.  This was very much the case with the fishery in the province.  What is in the individual's best interest is not always in the best interest of a society at whole.

Wikipedia sums it up:

In the case of Newfoundland and the Northern Cod fishery this meant that from the perspective of the individual participating in the fishing industry, maximizing their catch was in their best interest; however when the government failed to intervene – due largely to the highly sensitive nature of the political discourse created by the expansive group of stakeholders – the ecosystem was brought past its threshold and collapsed, leaving everyone worse-off.  When the government was finally galvanized to action, it was too late. The 1992 moratorium was initially meant to last two years, with the hopes that the Northern Cod population would recover, and along with it, the fishery. Unfortunately, the damage done to Newfoundland’s coastal ecosystem was indelible, and even after sixteen years, the Northern Cod population has failed to rebound and the Cod Fishery remains closed.

During the summer of 2011, a study was announced to show that recovery of East Coast cod stocks around Nova Scotia showed promises of recovery, despite earlier thoughts of complete collapse. It was found that initial stages of recovery began around 2005, though more time and studies were needed to study the long-term stability of the stock increase. In addition in 2010 a study by the Northwest Atlantic Fisheries Organization found that stocks near Newfoundland & Labrador had recovered by 69% though that number only compared to 10% of the original size.

I started playing around with some paint left on my palette and this little cod swam out of the red water, a worried expression on his face. And well he should be worried, his existence is in danger.

Revising the artist statement

I'm reworking my artist statement to reflect what has evolved in my work over the last couple of years.  Artist statements, while a necessary evil, are usually the last thing an artist wants to create.  They have a reputation for being useless pieces of fiction, written only for galleries and collectors who don't understand them, but want the writing on the wall, quite literally, to become part of the aura of the artist.

My artist statement tries to be factual, brief and written in terminology that helps the viewer have a better understanding of why I paint what I paint.  Its never easy to put into words something emotional and often something that even I, as the artist, don't  have a firm grasp on the 'why' of.  

As I drove home today, I glanced at a bank high above me on the highway.  It was early spring dulled brown with just the lip of dried grass poking over the cliff edge and a fallen tree lying across the summit.  In my mind,  a sepia drawing flooded in along with detail of the rough grass, strewn rock and dead tree.  To most people passing by, it was boring, and not worth a second glance.  The artist statement challenge is getting across to the viewer, my vision of how something such as that dull piece of land can turn into art and why it inspires me.

Back to my artist statement.  Its swerved from being tightly focused then broader, then more focused and now back to broadening once more.  I think this is quite normal, as for each exhibition and focus a new statement needs to accompany the art to help the viewer see the artist's vision.   Now my focus, while broader than gyotaku and even water has a common denominator of reflections.   I analysed why I was drawn to the fish and the water and marbles, glass, etc.  Its the play of light back from a surface.  Its reflections.  Coming to that realization was  through an brain storming exercise where I wrote down everything that I liked about subjects, other paintings that drew me in, colour, landscape...almost like a storyboard of images, colour and ideas that helped me focus and drill down to what I was really thinking about in my art.   Now to put it into words.

A little pre-used canvas, a little left over paint on the palette and ideas of reflections in my head  created this 5 x 7 in oil of a marble.   Simple and without overthinking, this took about 30 minutes.

Secret Formulas

Between bouts with a large painting, my break becomes smaller pieces. And with an exhibition looming in May I wanted to create a few newer paintings.  This piece also serves as good practice for an upcoming workshop that I'll be delivering next weekend on painting water.

As I paint, I go through steps in my head to be able to explain how it is created.  Its never as simple to explain in words  how paintings come out at the end of a brush than it is to actually paint them.  And doing so while painting sets up a battle between right and left brain functions.  One side always loses or at least gets lost for awhile and its usually the left side.

Artists who teach are often expected to have secret formulas that provide others with all the ingredients of a successful painting.  And individuals believe that by purchasing the same paint, brushes, canvas, etc., etc. that becomes part of the formula for success. I wish it were that simple.  All I can provide is technical information in getting paint onto a surface and tips on learning how to observe.  The rest is down to the desire of the individual to practice, to learn to observe what is really there and to ensure they develop their own style, not a copy of mine.

For those still interested in knowing what my watery combinations are in oils, I can share that with you, but you'll have to do your homework and paint many gallons of water.   I use a mix of paint from different manufacturers from Daniel Smith, Richeson, Old Holland, LeFranc and Winsor & Newton.  I have a couple of favourite colours that turn up on each water-related palette as standards.   Richeson The Shiva Series Ice Blue; Old Holland, Caribbean Blue;  Daniel Smith Indigo, Cobalt Teal Blue, and Manganese Blue,  Maimeri Classico, Cerulean Blue.  Titianium white is a standard and I usually have Winsor & Newton large tubes on hand as they're available locally.  A new paint I've introduced is from Kama Pigments, Cold Grey Deep, perfect for the north Atlantic.

I use varying colour mixes from these and other colours that I introduce, depending on the water and the setting, reflections, etc. The turquoise so commonly seen I create from Cobalt Teal blue or use a combination of Cerulean Blue, Cadmium Yellow light and a touch of white.  Either work well for light shining through water in certain wave conditions.

For acrylics, its a similar palette that I'll share in another post.

Dull as ditchwater

I have a fondness for ditches.  There, I've said it.  Its out in the open.

I can't resist peeping into ditches as I walk down the road and, of course, living in the country, they're not a rarity.  Usually filled with water, plant life, water beetles, frogs and sometimes the odd little fish, they're endlessly interesting.

Then there's the light as it filters through the trees and bushes that hang over the ditches, forming patterns and casting shadows.

This is the inspiration for this rather abstract painting.  The water runs off the land, through the ditch on its way to the sea and depending on the time of year and depth of water, the earth gives an amber/golden colour to it as the sun shines through the trees into the water.

This is a 6 x 12 study for what will be a large painting  that I'll be setting up tomorrow.  And of course, a glimpse at the delicious isoindolinone yellow.  Isn't it just so vibrant in all its varying stages from pure to tint?

From the archives

So I'm digging through the archives to find a little treat as I haven't much new and wonderful to show you right now.  I came across photo of one of the Embden geese having a bath in a puddle in early spring.  With still snow on the ground you'd think the water would be too icy for bathing, but they never seemed to care, treating any bit of water like their own personal pond.  Even though the geese and I weren't the best of friends, I loved the look of them and their grace of movement.

I've been run over by a steamroller this week.  The cold from hell has captured me at gunpoint and won't let me go.  Ok, enough dramatics, suffice to say, I feel blah, but today is the first day I've had a glimmer of hope and not felt like curling up on the office floor at work with the heat on full blast. 

Why I am at working if I'm sick, you ask?  Well, welcome to the world of non-profits where nothing is average and everything is different. I truely can't remember the last time I had a sick day.  They're more a luxury than a norm and usually involve hospital or doctor visits.

So not much has been done with art this week.  I've pushed a little paint around halfheartedly then stopped again. But I have been reading and looking at other art sites and considering ideas for new pieces, one of which I'm starting tonight. 

My treat of tubes of new handmade paints arrived this week and only tonight have I squeezed some out and found a new colour to fall in love with.  Isoindolinone Yellow - I can't even pronounce it! But it is beautiful.  A true golden yellow, strong, but transparent.  Its like orange juice married a lemon and they had butter children. Ok, ok, blame it on the cold meds.  But this colour is heavenly.  You HAVE to try it.

Aquatic trio

I finally painted the third in this aquatic trio, a mussel shell.  I'd had a mussel shell that was perfect, put it somewhere for safe keeping and, of course, couldn't find it again.  So a local restaurant, unknown to them, provided the prop.  I may put a few more touches to the mussel, that mother of pearl inside shell is difficult to reproduce well and more difficult to reproduce in a photograph of a painting.

These are tiny (for me) 3" x 5" oil paintings on panels.  I will have them framed together if possible as they seem to be heading that way.  Its tempting to do a few more small pieces in a similar vein, but the best laid plans and all that...

This cold is wiping me and some OTC drugs are keeping me going during the day that at least take the edge off the worst of it so I can work and paint. Wouldn't we all be a miserable bunch if we couldn't rely on some temporary relief from discomfort?  I musn't complain (yes I know I already did) as others have a much worse lot in life. 

Revealed - complete

 Revealed

10" x 10"

oil on canvas panel 

Inbetween napping and toasting myself by the fire today, I put in a little time in the studio to see if I could get this clementine finished.  And I think I did.  I'll let it sit and dry and see if any additions are needed, then its good to go.

I've been doing some research on support to paint on with oils.  The types on offer vary considerably from manufacturer to manufacturer.  I've used a number of brands, from Winsor & Newton to Fredrix mostly, as they are available here, but I'm in the market for some new ones and think I'll give RayMar panels a try.  They have a range of cotton and linen canvasses and offer sample packages for sale which will make choosing much easier.  I wish all manufacturers offered samples, I'm quite willing to pay for them and not looking for handouts.  As long as the panels are professional quality, I'll be happy.

I tend to like panels more than stretched canvas, although I do use gallery canvas to get around the framing issues at times.  The panels provide a sturdy surface that's not as prone to damage.

What supports do you use for oil paint?  Panels or stretched canvas?  Do you have a favourite brand?

Revealing - update

I've done a little more work on this clementine.  Its a fine line to keep the light in the fruit and make it believable.  Citrus has such a high water content, light shining through it is almost the same as water, making it translucent and reflect colours.

This image was taken earlier this afternoon and I've added more detail to the piece since.  However, I find it really difficult, even with good lighting to get true colours of this painting.  Some colours just don't seem to photograph well under certain light conditions.

This afternoon the symptoms of a cold suddenly arrived out of the blue.  I hope it moves past quickly, as colds can sometimes knock the desire to paint right out of me.

Revealing - in progress

As usual, and likely the same as many painters, I have several paintings happening at once.  While one dries, I do some more work on another.  Its the necessary evil of oil paints, but also helps increase productivity. There are times that I want to rush things and am itching to put some glazing blues over the Calmer Waters piece, but I have to wait and let nature and oxidization take its course.

So I've started another clementine painting.  I took some photos of clementines I had around Christmas.  The season of them is fleeting usually and I wanted to make sure I had some extras at hand.  I was experimenting with the shapes of the peel and how much could be unwrapped without the peel dropping off.  That and strong directional light helps make a composition have more strength.

Here is about an hour's worth of paint in oil on a 10 x 10 inch canvas.

Calmer Waters

I'm letting the little boat sit in a corner and consider its transgressions for a few days before tackling it again.  Its often good to put something to one side if its not working for me then come back with fresh eyes at a later date.

Meanwhile I pulled out this piece that I had started previously of a fairly calm water surface.  The nuances in a body of water are one of the things that draw me to it. Perhaps the challenge in getting the shapes and values just right satisfies the detail freak in me.  It becomes a meditation of sorts and I can easily lose track of time while I create swirls and gentle curves on the water surface. This painting is in oils, 11" x 14".

My entry into the gallery world once more is off to a good start, with two paintings being sold today that had only just been put on the wall.  That will go towards my late birthday present to me of a load of Kama oil paints. I'm justifying the purchase as necessary art tools.   Besides traditional tubes of paint, I ordered a few oil sticks as well.  I haven't used oil sticks before.  I'm presuming they're similar but perhaps softer than oil pastels, but should be interesting for making marks.  I'll have to experiment a bit.  Tips are welcome if others have experience with them.

Boat woes

I've fought with this little boat for three days and still its not doing as I want.  The colours are ok, the shape isn't and I'm about to wipe it for the umpteenth time. 

Its likely because I'm tired and stressed from work and general busyness.  Daylight savings time play havoc with my body clock and it takes me a week or more to get over it, rather like jet lag.  I wish they'd just leave it all alone, it serves no purpose to me - and many others by the sounds of it.

So when all the factors combine, the construction of art seems to suffer.  I don't know if I'll continue to beat this piece to death or admit defeat while I'm ahead.  Its looking more like the latter right now, but you never know what a new day will bring. 

Tonight, in a moment of weakness, I ordered a dozen tubes of handmade oil paints and some oil sticks from Kama Pigments in Montreal.  Like all artists in moments of despair, I believe that the tools will be the saviour or the destruction of me.  Either way, quality pigments made traditionally cannot be a bad thing, can they?

Flight Path completed

The funny puffin coming in for a landing is complete and on his way to the gallery tomorrow. 

I quite enjoyed painting this bird and perhaps will try another seabird in the near future.  A gull maybe if I can get the right composition and light, not that there's any shortage of gulls around here!  They're brazen and would snatch food right out of your hand given half a chance.  It always amazes me at how large the gulls are, mostly herring gulls that I see here, but there are other varieties around.  I'm just not up on them.

But for now, this little clown will head out into the world.  Its 24" x 30" in oil on gallery canvas. Gary Jones has kindly provided the reference image for this piece.

Blues

I use the walls in my studio to hang paintings on nails to dry.  As I put up last night's blue donut on the wall with other pieces I noticed a trend emerging.  Everything is blue to varying degrees.  Some more prominently than others.  Yes there are other colour elements in the pieces but there seems to be an underlying blue connecting most pieces. 

I know I paint water which often does have blue tones, but haven't really noticed this before.  Tonight as I started a new piece and stepped back to look at the form, it too is blue.  Of course it is a blue boat to start with so there's no escaping that.

Blue is likely one of the most universally favoured colours and I'm no different.  Also as a child, I always was dressed in blue and still love to wear blue .  Maybe its engrained, maybe all my paintings will always be blue!

Do you notice a colourway seeping into your work every time you paint?

Something blue

I've never eaten (or even seen) a doughnut with blue icing on it before.  But this was one of the subjects on a challenge and instead of fiddling with a cat study as I have for the last couple of nights, I thought it was time to move on, so here's a little 5 x 7 in oil of one of life's sinful pleasures.

I've been working on water using acrylics and the switchback tends to be a bit frustrating after using oils for the last few months.  Each medium has its own quirks and it takes awhile to get back into the swing of it again.  But I had to admit that I enjoy oils more than acrylics.  Its the paint feel I believe.  Yes, it too has challenges, but I am more familiar with how to get around those now and enjoy the process.

The Spurrell Gallery in St. John's will be representing my work and currently have have several of my original works.  I'll be bringing in a few more pieces in next week, a couple of them being gyotaku prints to see how they fare in the open market.  Today the Gallery have my information and pieces on their website and I look forward to working with them into the future.

Backwash

 I've spent more time defining this wave to add some realism to it.  All those little fiddly details are what I love to work on, but there's a fine line between detail and overkill.  With water, its easy to go on forever adding light and darker values to the water surface, foam and spray. 

Close analysis of water reveals its complexities.  Its not simple  shapes or solid colours as so often depicted, especially by beginning artists. Creating a transparent, moving mass takes time and so often I see pieces discarded in frustration when another couple of hours of work would push them into a new direction.

I rarely work from a printed photo, as it never provides enough detail of the water surface and values.  I keep the image on the computer screen so I can enlarge and reduce it as required to really observe well.

This piece is a sample for a workshop and measures 8 x 16 on canvas panel in acrylics.

Making waves

Quite literally.   I'm trying out a demo piece for a workshop on painting water in acrylics that I'll be teaching later this month.  I've rather immersed myself in oil these last few months and need to get back into the feel for acrylic paint and how it performs again.

Its much easier for me to show than explain technique just as its easier for people to learn by seeing then doing.  I thought I'd test a video clip and see how it turned out.  I still need to get lighting better and have a tighter crop on the image.  However, this being an 8 x 16 canvas, its difficult to get closer without losing some of the image.  I used a Flip video cam to shoot this and have no control over focus only to zoom in and out a bit.  For the next video I'll try the Canon camera that has the video function on it and see what the difference is.  It should be much better as the resolution is so much higher.

For now, this is about 25 minutes of painting condensed into 3 minutes and is at about the halfway point of the painting.

The Medium War

There is an endless debate in art circles over which medium is the favoured one for producing art.  The purists say oil but I never hear a sound enough argument for the preference.  There is the argument that the 'masters' used it.  Well they did mostly because they had no alternative beside watercolour, both having to be created by hand in many instances, not a quick fix at a local art supply store.  In some areas of life, we cling to the past as if it shows us the way forward, instead of forging out own paths.

The collectors have their preferences also, again societal followings lead towards oil too, but without strong argument for the choice.  Are we programmed to presume oil is a higher quality medium to paint with?  And, if so, what drives that thought?

Skill in handling is often cited as a factor.  But that can be said of any tool used to produce art.  If you cannot handle the medium well and know how it performs, you set yourself up to fail.  Oil painting, like painting in any other medium takes practice, many hours of practice to become competent in it.

I was told today by a gallery owner that buyers currently look for oil paintings and that works under glass are out of favour.  Whims? Trends?  Who or what is the catalyst that pushes the end user to decide which medium should be the chosen one?  Is it the same trend that dictates what colour we should wear each year or paint the walls of our sitting rooms?

What about the image itself?  Where does composition, competence in technique and eye appeal fall down in terms of mediums?  A beautifully drawn piece can be as stunning as a beautifully painted piece in any medium.  I believe that if the view has a connection with the image, the medium in which it is executed has little role to play in whether it has appeal or not.

There's an eternal circle that exists of one medium chasing or being chased by another, one claiming superiority over the previous til it runs full circle back to its origins again.  And then there is the snob appeal of materials within some artist circles.  Its another version of  "Whoever dies with the most expensive toys wins." concept.   Some individuals slavish purchase outrageously priced materials in the hopes that the the higher the price and/or quality, it will magically turn their mediocre paintings into gold.....'oh, yes, that Sheep's Hoof Brown, its only $120 an ounce and made from the elusive Tattamangoula male sheep in Outer Mongolia, but its just divine to paint with darling and XWY uses it in alllllllllll his paintings and you know how much *they* go for...'  I know, over the top, but you've all heard something similar somewhere before, right? ;)

My conclusion?  Paint what you like, in whatever medium you like.  If you are competent in technique and composition, your work will find its own level.

Mine has leveled  today with a local gallery representing my work.  Stay tuned for more details soon.

Familiarity

 Watercolour, 200lb paper

Does this image look familiar?  Yes, its the Merry Christmas Hares piece that I painted and which sold at the Comfort & Joy exhibition just before Christmas. 

However, this isn't the original painting, its a replica that I'm currently producing.  The gallery rang me to ask if I could recreate the painting as the collector had an 'unfortunate accident' with the original.  I have painted the same object twice or more, but not the same painting, so took on the challenge.

This is were record keeping comes into play.   I usually scan or take photos of pieces at varying stages of production and the original hares drawing was scanned into the computer, as well the final painting was there too.  This helped speed up the process immensely as I could transfer the original drawing then just paint it.  Of course, it won't be the exact same piece, but close enough I think.  In fact, I'm liking this version more than the original.   Its nearing completion once I finish the hares and add some snow, then off to the framer again!

So record your paintings and progresses carefully, you never know when you'll need them again.

The Edge of the World

 
A rocky coastline provides constant inspiration with endless changes of light and wave states.  Like many people, I love seeing the ocean at its wildest.  Those large crashing waves hitting the rocks, sending salt spray into the air. And the sound.  I think the sound of a huge surf clattering the pebbles as it drags them back down into the sea is so wonderful.

When I lived in Pouch Cove, I had a house at the edge of the sea.  This is where the inspiration for this painting arose.  At night during wild storms, I could  feel the rhythmic 'thud' over and over vibrating the house as the waves made contact with the shore.  To some it was frightening.  To me, comforting.  It felt like being alive, being part of the sea at the edge of the world.

This pastel is 6 x9 on sanded paper.  And a little clip of the ocean in Middle Cove after a storm.

Weekend study

Between sleeplessness, followed by long naps, and the usual weekend chores, I've had some time in the studio and have pretty much finished the puffin piece. Waiting for it to dry, in off days I dabble with little studies for other paintings.  This is another view of the red boat that I painted earlier this year. 

Finishing up the palette is a good excuse to do a study and practice never goes astray.  I'm working out ideas and thumbnail sketches for new paintings, as well still finishing up pieces that have been left to sit for awhile.

More puffin

I've literally snatched time this week to work on the puffin painting.  A few minutes in the early morning, a few more in the evening.  I hope to have more time this weekend to put in some serious painting and make inroads into this piece and maybe get the drawing underway for the next piece.

I want to keep the painting a bit looser instead of the tight control that I had in the gannet in the Vertigo painting a few months back.  Its always a fine line with which way to go.  I love high realism detail but also love loose impressionistic pieces too.  The looser pieces feel truer to me somehow and I like the paint to point the direction.


I'm working on adding more shape to the bird and getting the subtle changes in colour of the the body and wings just right.  Too much yellow in the body right now, but I'll get there. Of course night time and artificial lights, yada yada yada.  You know the rest.  Tomorrow a better image under natural light I hope.

Flight Path in progress

I'm about a third into this painting of a puffin coming in for landing.  I was of two minds about showing it at this stage, as it really is the ugly duckling stage, with colours blocked in and nothing refined.  However, people keep telling me that they like to see how a piece progresses and the stages that it passes through to reach the swan stage, so here it is, raw and uncensored on the easel.

It does make me a cringe a little to see it at this unfinished stage and I know this stage is often the undoing of less experienced artists who see the raw state and can't push it aside to see the finished piece in their head.  Or who get bored once the initial blocks of colour are in and the detail work and colour choices become more important. However, we've all been there too and know the only way to the other side is through the dark tunnel.

Puffins, while so cute, are not graceful birds.  They beat their little wings frantically trying to stay up in the air and landings are a lot less elegant. They're known locally as 'sea potatoes', their round little oblong bodies and stocky frame making it always a wonder they can fly at all.  When I go on whale watching tours, the boats go to the breeding grounds of the puffins and you can see them in their hundreds on the sea and on the island that is littered with the burrows they nest in.

This little fellow is on the flight path, wheels down, ready to hit land or water.  I like the awkwardness of the moment and the glow of colour in the feet against the sky.  This is in oil on 24 x 30" gallery canvas.

Amended whelk

Because I second guess myself all the time, the more I looked at the original whelk shell done in oil, the more I felt it needed adjusting.  The benefit a few days and a bit of distance as it sits on a shelf across the studio are often useful in provided sober second thought.

So this is the adjusted shell.  More colour, less colour, more shadow, less shadow.  Its an age old dance in the art of creating art

Whelk Shell II

 I couldn't resist another version of the whelk shell hat I painted this weekend, but this time in watercolour.

I haven't used watercolours for awhile and enjoy how the colour merge under the right conditions.  Its always a surprise when they do as I hope they will.  And its always a surprise when they do what I don't expect.

This is about 3 x 6 on 9 x 12 watercolour pad from my newly cleared out stash.  Everytime I clear out cupboards I find little gems tucked away that I have forgetten that I had.  I should have a Stash & Swap Week where artists can find homes for things they no longer want and get new things they'd like to experiment with.  It might work if people don't mind paying for postage, that's always the killer, unless they are local.  Its my dream to stumble upon a garage sale or flea market that has a heaping table full of artist quality supplies going for a song.  I did say it was a dream...

Whelk shell

I like testing my ability to work small sometimes and I have three tiny canvas panels that I want to use.  A sea creature theme seems to be emerging for them.  First the jellyfish and now this whelk shell.  Any suggestions for number three?

I cannot resist beaches and everything that I find on them.  Photographing little shells and the colour contained in them is something I enjoy.  We so often think of exotic shells when we consider seashells. Big colourful conch or abalone shells are traditional fodder for painting and they are beautiful.

On the shores of the north Atlantic the shells are more traditionally whelks or  mussels and they can rival any tropical shell for colour and form.  I collected quite a few large whelk shells from St. Mary's beach and stained them with watercolour, creating beautiful ornaments out of them.  I still have one little bag of three left if anyone's interested in them.  And a few more in a Coastal Steamer box.

Meanwhile, this 3 x 5" oil painting is the second of a mini series of mini paintings

Jumping off a cliff

I started this painting of the Cliffs of Moher a few months ago, then put it aside.  I pulled it out the other night to see if it is salvageable and added a few more layers of glazing to it.  Its 30 x 40 on a stretched canvas using oil paint.  The problem is that the canvas is old, not fabulous quality and when painted, the crossbars are showing through as seen here.  Getting an image of the painting has proven to be more difficult than the canvas.  Size, lack of daylight, etc., etc.  But you get the idea.

Can it be saved?

My thought is taking it off the current stretcher bars, buying some new, better quality bars and restretching it.  I haven't tried this before, so I don't know if it will work, or if the marks of the crossbars on the painting are permenent and won't be eliminated with stretching.

Or should I simply chalk it up to experience and let it become fodder for a bonfire in the field.  Perhaps it could give birth to some new charcoal.  The more I look at it, the more I think it is destined to be classed as an experience and left to live out its days in the utility room or lining a wall in the barn.

I try  not to become frustrated with paintings or tools, but this one does frustrate.  Maybe that's a sign to leave well enough alone.

Jellyfish finale and winners

  The Drifter

3" x 5" oil

canvas panel

I spent a little more time on the jellyfish tonight to finish it up and set it free to float downstream. As always, it looks completely different in life and has an inner glow which is what I was hoping to achieve.  The tentacles are whispers of lines for the eye to put in.  Too much and it detracts from the airy feeling and gives it a grounding which I don't want.

So from the tiny to the large, another boat painting will go up on the easel tonight.  Or at least the bones of the drawing of it. 

And now, the winners of my little heart give away for tonight.  Tracy Urban from my Facebook artist page and Carol Lee Beckx who both commented on the post and/or joined my FB Artist page.  Congratulations to both of you, your hearts will head your way as soon as you provide me with your mailing details.

The littlest things

I paint and draw in a variety of sizes, usually dictated by the subject, but sometimes not and more the mood or the medium.  One thing I haven't done a lot of of is very small paintings or miniatures.  Tonight, I didn't have much time for painting and started doodling with a jellyfish on a 3" x 5" canvas panel.

What always amazes me is that it takes virtually the same amount of time to create a small piece as it does a larger piece.  And I always run out of space on a small piece.  I never seem to gage it correctly and the cut off point comes sooner than anticipated.

This little jellyfish isn't complete but another session should finish it.  Oil again.  These remind me of visits to the seashore when the children were small.  Scouring rock pools in Lyme Regis or Seaton, the girls with bucket and spade in hand and always hauling home some sea creature, rock, shell or pile of sand.  Vicky, the sea anenome.  That's a whole other story for another day.

Fogbank

Living on the ocean, fog is a very common occurance.   When the sun is up it seems to force it back to the edge of the horizon where it lurks like a murky blanket, waiting to slide in over the water and land.

At dusk, it starts to creep forward and lose its rolled form, flattening out to fill every nook and cranny with cool, moist air. 

This piece is in oils, 12" x 12" on canvas panel. I'm not sure if its finished yet or not.  It was produced fairly quickly with a large brush.  Sometimes that works, and I don't second guess.  This time I am wondering if there is enough contrast in the piece.  A few days to let it sit will usually tell me what to do.

Today I joined Daily Paintworks to use their auction format for a few test paintings. You can find the link to my gallery here or on the right side at the top of this blog. I find eBay has become very expensive to auction items on and I mostly use Etsy.  Of course with the numbers of artists out there all selling something, its difficult to be seen individually sometimes, so worthwhile to try a few new options for selling work online. 

Lucie Rose sails!

Lucie Rose

12" x 24", oil on stretched canvas

available for purchase

I stopped procrastinating and put the final glazes and touches on the Lucie Rose and now its ready to sail out into the world.  This one of several paintings in a boat series.  The shapes of boats and the little details that make them unique making interesting subject matter.  And of course, the water.

I have one last 15 x 30 panel that will host another boat painting.  I will draw it out this weekend and make a start on the underpainting. 

I love the technique and detail, but at times I am seduced by loose, free paintings that let me put down colour and form and not think of detail.   Where does my style fit in?  What is my style? Is style defined by technique or by subject matter, or both?  I wish I could make a firm decision on the path I want to travel and stick with it.

Roller - finished

Here's the final (I think) image of Roller.  I have fought with this image and its still not correct.  I can't get the focus or colour correct on it, no matter how hard I try under artificial light.  I will try for daylight, but in the meantime here it is.  I may give a glaze of transparent oxide brown over the board when this layer is dry to complete it and give some warmth to the wood, but aside from that, there should not be much tweaking to do.

Its sitting on the top of my old file cabinet to dry along with an eclectic mix of other paintings, props and tools.  the little wooden manikin of a cat I bought a few years ago, but haven't used it yet.  There are endless manikins of various animals and body parts available.  I have a classic human female manikin, about 16 inches tall, which makes for interesting drawing when I have time.  I should take the wooden cat manikin for a test draw too soon.  Perhaps on my Buddha board which finally arrived today.  More on that tomorrow.

Apple - part II

I finished an oil painting last Friday of an apple, a challenge that was thrown out by one of the members of my local art group.

I wanted to play around with other mediums for it and started the next version in pastel.  Pastel is not in my comfort zone, but I enjoy using it.  I started laying down colour in broad strokes but don't like the final result.  Too bright, too red, too.....I don't know. 

So I wiped out most of the colour, or more like spread it over the paper so there's almost a ghost image instead of the contrast of the blue paper and I like this version more. I'll see what I can do with it, still wanting to keep it more subdued.

This is done on St. Armand paper, made in Montreal.  Its a denim rag paper with a soft tooth.

Roller in progress

I should be painting water, but instead I'm caught up in marbles.  Why?  I have no idea, except that they're so appealing and so....round!

I'm trying to create some pieces for a May exhibition of small works, and this may become one of them.  There's still work to be done on the marble shape. It looks a little compressed to me right now. Funny how you see these things when you step back from them for awhile.   The surface the marble is on is an old wooden board.  I'm still considering how that will be depicted effectively.

This is in oils on 4" x 12" gallery canvas and still in progress, but I'll get there.  There are just too many ideas in my head right now.

Giving away my heart

Well two hearts in fact.

I've been turning a mistake into something different.  I printed a couple of photos the other day, but accidentally put the paper in the machine the wrong way.  As a result, it printed on the wrong side of the glossy paper.  This leaves a blurred mass of colour that is unusable as an image.  However, the glossy photo paper is very similar to the surface of yupo paper, so I decided to play around with layering some paint and see what happened.


Like yupo, the surface is not absorbent so water based media stays on the surface and dries, lending itself well to marbling.  I used watercolour and some freestyle hearts.  The background seemed to create the guide for colour and works well being muted and blurred. With very wet colours applied one on top of the other I let colours mix and bleed and these are the results.

I've decided to provide them as giveaways on Valentine's Day.  So how do you enter your name to win one of them?  You can subscribe to my Artist Page on Facebook, (see link on top right of my blog) comment or share the post there.  Or comment on this blog post or send me an email.  On the 14th, I'll draw for two names to send a heart.  Everyone needs a little heart now and then...

Red reflection

Available for purchase from my website

A friend in our local art group threw out a little challenge to paint one of her photos this month. A beautifully red apple. The colour in it is irresistable.

I started out with a sedate little painting last night then looked at tonight and it was just..blah, so I grabbed a palette knife and laid in some brighter colours and loose application.

I'm getting to quite like this palette knife painting. Its a great warm up for a more concentrated piece.

This finishes off my oil palette and now I can start afresh tomorrow.

On the rocks

The sea is on my doorstep and I can take it for granted, being so close. I see it every day, but more as a marker for weather than the body of every changing water that it is. As I drive past the ocean, I always look towards it and note the colour of the water reflecting the sky, the movement of the waves and if there are any ships on the horizon. But it isn't an indepth look.

When I go closer, to the edge of the water, is when detail becomes apparent and I take note of other, perhaps more painterly, things. The colours in the water as it shifts, reflecting sky and revealing the hidden depths and the rocks, always present, that surround the shore. The colours and shapes carved by thousands and millions of years of ocean and weather and glaciers become sculptures of the sea.

This 8" x 8" oil is on a gessoed wood panel of the view over the edge of the cliff at Pouch Cove. It wasn't high and I was far back from the edge. The height shows the ocean's movement and how it changes colour as it is close to shore. It can look almost tropical at times, this wild Atlantic.

Yellowtail flounder

This is a gyotaku print of yellowtail flounder before it has been mounted to another sheet of paper.

Mounting gyotaku is rather like stretching watercolour paper but with rice or wheat paste adhering the 'sandwich' of the two sheets. Most gyotaku prints are mounted as the paper the fish is printed on is fairly fragile and needs the stability of another sheet.

The process is always a little daunting to me as I put paste all over the back of the print and layer and smooth it carefully onto another sheet. I don't know if I even breathe sometimes! I have a large plastic topped table that I paste on and tape the edges so as it dries it becomes taut and eliminates most wrinkles. Not everything is perfect always and that's just how it goes. Unlike watercolour, you've already done your creative piece before stretching, so it becomes a bit stressful. Even if things don't go quite as planned, results are usually good and of course practice makes perfect. Or at least acceptable.

Marbles in progress

Time is really limited lately for painting, so I've been getting up early, sometimes too early, to fit in some painting. The challenges of juggling a full time job as well as an art career all comes down to planning and discipline of 'butt in chair'. I do find that very early morning works well in that respect as there are no interruptions, no phone calls, no meals pending, etc.

For those saying they can't find time, means they don't want to find time or are not serious enough about wanting to reach their goal. That may sound harsh, but if you can find time to watch television or spend hours online, but still say you don't have time to paint, you may like to rethink how you lay out your time. For everything in life, if you want it badly enough, you'll create the time.

So this morning gave me a couple of hours to work on this marble trio. I had taken some reference images at the weekend using good light and great old wooden surface of a antique paper cutter. I'm working on getting the marbles to a degree of finish as well as the reflections, while working on the background which is more a play of light than detail.

It is in oils on an 8 x 16 panel.