Yet more images...

I finally got to my camera, the cable and a computer all at once. Actually, Chris loaded them for me, but I'm making an effort here, so work with me, ok?

These are a few more photos from last Thursday and from my studio this week...

In the true Guillebeau tradition, here's a picture of someone taking a picture of me. This is Yuriko, another artist (and friend) from the Fat Tiger Show.



My recent work... An old Chatter Phone, mailed from my mom. (Thanks, Mom!) The colors are more accurate here, but the glare is terrible.



Here there's no glare, but the colors are terrible. You see the dilemma.



This (what do you call this thing?) is a toy I loved as a kid. Except I could never get the shapes out once I put them in. And that made me mad. Now they've made it easier to open, or my arms are stronger, because I can get the shapes out pretty easily.



I found it at the Ballard Goodwill for $1.49. I love that. And it has all the pieces.


Ok, I'm off. The next pictures you'll see here will be of sunny skies and ocean views. Meanwhile, have a Merry Christmas and eat a candy cane for me.

Letting Go.

I learned something really important this week. It's about Painting and Life. Hopefully I can explain it without confusion.

For the first two years I painted, I struggled with building a good foundation to my painting. I was so intimidated by the act of painting that I never really bothered to set my paintings up well, I just tried to get the canvas covered. I felt twitchy until all the white space was filled in with color. That meant that I just slapped things down without worrying about angles or measurements or composition. Sometimes I got lucky and it worked. Other times, well-- let's just say I have a large collection of wonky looking canvases hiding in the hall closet. It took me a while to get comfortable with the idea of empty space while I worked out the potential problems of each piece.

But, at some point I realized the importance of setting things up well. I realized that if I got the angle right on the first try, then I wouldn't spend hours repainting in frustration. And since we were running out of space in the hall closet, I started planning and drawing things in a little more carefully before I threw the paint on the canvas. Instantly, I saw my work move up a level. More paintings were successful, fewer were banished to a dark room.

Things went along nicely for awhile. But I was still dissatisfied. Other people liked my work, and I wasn't hiding it anymore, but it still fell short somehow. Again, sometimes I'd get lucky, but overall I still felt like it wasn't quite finished--even though I'd planned well and followed all the rules. (Don't ask me what the rules are, I haven't really figured that out yet. I just know when it's right.) My work looked fine, but I wanted it to look like this, or this, or even this. (Have I mentioned my lack of patience already?)

So this week, I figured something out. Painting is like life. I need to plan well and give myself as much information as possible in the early stages of a project. But once I've committed to the right direction then I have to let go of the original plan. See, once I started planning and drawing in detail, I found it hard to move past the drawing. For example, if I got the angle right on Mr. Potato Head's arm, then I would paint all around it, but I'd be afraid to really paint it, because I might lose the part that's working. The problem with this is that it makes for nice drawings, but only mediocre paintings.

See, paintings are all about edges. This is something I've known in my head for awhile-- the eye perceives things and takes in information based almost completely on edges. It's how you can tell the difference between a golf ball and a ping-pong ball. Or a tennis ball and a lemon. But knowing it in my head and knowing it in my paintbrush are two different things. I wasn't happy with my painting because I was afraid of losing the drawing, so I ignored the edges.I might as well have been using a coloring book.

I was holding on to the original plan so tightly, that I couldn't move past it.

Someone told me this week to let go of the drawing. And I realized-- I'd gotten the drawing right the first time, so if I lost it, I could probably get it back. I also realized, that if I didn't paint over the drawing, I'd never have a good painting.

So while I'm still a long way from Chardin, I think my work is about to move to a new level again. Because I'm letting go. And maybe one day, we'll have room for coats in our hall closet.

Hey! Look!

It's me! Did you forget me? I hope not.

I know I last posted 4 weeks ago, but there's a good reason, I promise!(Really!)

Ok, first good excuse-- no, I mean REASON. Chris took the camera with him. Then when he brought it back, it wouldn't zoom. or unzoom. It wouldn't cooperate at all. And I was tired of whining about it, so I decided not to post until I actually did something about the camera situation. This called for immediate action, so I stopped eating. Well, I stopped eating out. Normally, everyday that I work, I go to Piroshkis on Madison. Dmitri knows me well enough that when I walk in the door, he puts a Spinach Mushroom and Cheese Piroshki in the oven for me. It costs $4.86. I give him a five and put the 15 cents in the tip jar.

So, I started packing my lunch. That saved $20 each week. That, plus a couple of sales on etsy gave me enough money to buy a camera on sale at Target today.

So without further ado: pictures of everything I've been working on for the last month.



See no evil. You've seen this one already.



Hear no evil. You saw the beginning of this, but he's progressed nicely since then.




Speak no evil. Started two weeks ago. Finished? Not yet, but soon.

Don't worry, more to come! I have a camera now.

Painting update

Chris and the camera are in Pakistan at the moment, but I managed to get these pictures just before he left.



This is the blank canvas that you saw last week. I've pretty much finished this one. My idea was a key, but no door. Kind of a "Here's the answer, what's the question?" thought. I found these keys at the Frye museum store, and I thought they were pretty.


As you can see, I've started the second in the Mr. Potato Head series. This one is "Hear no evil." I'm still early in, so I haven't thought as much about the ideas behind this painting. The small square painting gives me an idea of the finished product, while I started the larger painting with a value sketch.


The lines around the painting help me with placement and proportions. I have little pieces of plexiglass with these lines scratched into them, so that I can look at my setup in the same way. It helps with composition and drawing, in ways I never really expected. I also like the idea that I'm using a system that some of my favorite artists implemented as well.

A new painting...

I don't know if I've mentioned this yet, but I love my new studio. It's quiet and cool on warm days. It's private and most of all-- it's mine! Having my own studio was one of the dreams I wrote down a few years ago as a Mondo Beyondo dream. And now, it's real. Wow.

And though I miss my studio mates, I must admit-- I'm getting so much done. Last Tuesday, I ran some errands, then painted for awhile, then took a break for lunch and wrote in my journal before I settled back in around 2:00 for an afternoon of painting. I figured I'd paint until around 5pm, then run to the grocery store and go home and play with the cat. I picked up my brush and... just a few minutes later, realized it was 6:15. I had been painting for four hours! I thought it was only 30 minutes.

So this is what I started today:

I know, it's a blank canvas, but not really. I worked for awhile to get the light to move across the background. You'll see why later in the week.



Here's what I'm looking at (though the color is wrong and it's a little out of focus):

See no evil

My newest painting.


Mr. Potato Head. This is the first of a series. I'm going to paint him next without ears, and then again without a mouth. I'm really having fun with this. It evokes a lot of questions. Is he blind by choice? He seems pretty happy without his eyes. Or does he appear to be trying to find them with his hands waving around searching? How did he lose them in the first place?

Someone suggested that I title this "The Bush Administration," and that brings up a whole new set of questions. Is Mr. Potato Head a symbol or our president, or does he represent the American people looking the other way?

I also like the idea of "Our Fearless Leader." It's less political, and open to a wider interpretation. And the idea of "the blind leading the blind" is something that everyone can relate to.

Regardless of the title, it's a painting that opened several doors in my head. I have lots of ideas for new paintings to keep me busy for awhile. Stay tuned...

I know, I know...

I'm behind on posting. But I've been painting. See?



A whole new painting to look at. This is a collection of souvenirs from Chris's adventures recently. There's a painted tile from Tunisia, a terracotta box from somewhere (maybe Syria?), a small carved figurine from Easter Island and a bottle filled with sand from Jordan. The blue bowl is from the far off distant land of Anthropologie, but I wanted something blue-green and round, sort of as a symbol of the world. And looking inside the paper bag was my idea of exploring new places from a different angle. Also, it was pretty. Here's a view of my set-up.



I haven't yet painted the red handles and they're an important part of the composition. I still have a lot to do before that though. The color inside the bag is really important. I want it to glow, so that your eye is really drawn in to the bag. I'm trying to get everything else nailed down nicely before I really work on the bag.

Several people lately have told me that they can see how much progress I'm making. I've been doubtful, but I can see changes in my approach with this painting. I'm much more deliberate about things when I have a problem now. It's exciting to finally push past a plateau.



Also, you have no idea how satisfying it is that I can't see the difference between my painting and the wall in the top photo. I worked so very very hard to get that wall color right!

At long last, an image!

This is the painting you saw a few weeks ago. It's now finished and hanging in a group show at Gage. Hooray for a camera and for friends! More details this week, when I'm at the studio.

How did it get to be Wednesday already?

Really? Wednesday?
And I haven't posted yet? Well, I better get on that.

So this week...

Well, I made the Rainbow Jello that I linked to last week. Here's what I learned. It's really pretty, but it's a lot of work for something that still just tastes like Jello. I don't really like Jello.

I also made oven-dried tomatoes. That was easy and satisfying. I am all about things that are easy and satisfying.

And I painted. I still can't show you what I've done, but I think I've cleared a new hurdle with my work. I've talked before about how I seem to hit a wall, when I'm ninety percent finished with a painting. Last week, Gary offered a cumulative critique of my work from the year. As we talked about my work as a whole, I was able to see the consistent weaknesses and, more importantly, how I could fix them. So since then, I've been working on details. Straightening edges, smoothing transitions, sharpening perspective lines, adjusting value shapes... it makes for a better painting, but boring blogging--especially without a camera. Sorry.

Monumental Still life project

A new painting... the idea here is that you paint the still life objects with perspective that makes them look much larger in scale. So rather than having objects look like normal cream and sugar bowls, they look as if they are the size of buildings. A bit disconcerting and not my usual thing, but I decided to be daring. What do you think?

Now showing...part two

And a few more...

Now showing...

Here are a few photos of my show-- most of these paintings will be familiar to you if you follow the blog, but it's nice to see them on the wall.

The Twilight Zone...

Which one is my reality?

Obviously, I'm having fun with this. Though I am starting to wonder how many times I'm going to paint that sunset. It was originally a sketch based on a photo from the ship. I painted it last summer to commemorate a year of life on land. (You can see the sketch on the wall behind the easel.) Then, I thought it would be the perfect background for this still life painting-- I just added the sand to make it a beach scene. Now, I'm painting a painting of the same painting. Oy.

A stack of small paintings

A stack of paintings that I did while I was sick-- it was too much effort to start a big new project.

Each of these are 5x5 inches square and they are small landscapes from memory. Each is the view from my bedroom window in various houses that I lived in as a kid.

This is the view (as I remember it) from my window at 508 Owens Drive. I lived there from 1984-1985.

This is from 5620 Jackson Trail (1985-1988)


And this is 450 Frank Patterson Road. I switched bedrooms with my sisters, so the view changed, but this is the one I remember most. (1988-1992)


And finally an exaggerated view from my window at 1107 Mulberry Road. (1992-1995)



I decided not to paint any buildings in these paintings, but otherwise this is what it looked like to me. I made a list and I've lived in 17 houses in my 30 years, so this series might take awhile!

A new painting

So this is my studio today...

and this is my painting of my studio. I love beginnings!

A lovely day...

The past couple of days I've had a bit of a studio "holiday." Because I was here last Friday and again on Sunday, then I've taken half days yesterday and I'm going to again today. The weather is nice and it's just too pretty to be inside painting.

A view of my studio at the moment:


You'll notice the sunset has moved to the wall-- I want to just look at it for a few days. So I switched gears a bit and decided to paint something more neutral. Janette was giving these away at 20 Things last week, and I thought they were beautiful. My camera has gone fuzzy again, but so far I'm happy with this.

Today's progress.

Meet Cousin It.



Creepy, eh? On Friday, we spent several hours making plaster casts of our hands and face. (We also made an enormous mess.) Here's a particularly unattractive picture of my face. Chris calls it "Dead Jolie".




I'm not exactly sure how I'm going to use them, but I had fun making them nonetheless.

As for painting, more details and fiddling with the sky. I don't feel finished with this painting yet, but I also feel by continuing to paint I'm smothering all the small things that made me so happy with it... a dilemma.

Oops.

My palette-- a mess today, but that's not the "oops".



I forgot to post pictures yesterday as promised. It's a busy week here in the studio, so please forgive my forgetfulness. Here are pictures of yesterday's work and today's as well. I think I'll be done this week.

Yesterday I continued fiddling with the wine bottle and glass. I know, they don't look much different, but I feel better about them.





and today I gave the sunglasses my full attention and I turned the water blue.

See? They're much smaller now.


Tomorrow-- a bit of work on the sky and a first coat of varnish!

Off to the museum.

Just a quick update before I leave the studio for the week.

It's a good day. Mitt Romney dropped out of the presidential race, I had a really wonderful piroshki for lunch and I made much progress on my painting.

Look, a glass!

And here's the whole painting-- I think it's coming together.

So today in the studio we talked about books rather than Art History and therefore, I'm going to do the same thing. First, another influential artist--Thomas Buechner. His book, How I Paint, is out of print now, but I still use it constantly. He approaches landscape, still life and portraits with common sense and without pretention. It's one of those books that I learn from every time I open it. Honestly, I know very little about him as a person. But his work really speaks to me. If you can get a copy of his book, it's well worth the read.