Chicken or Egg Question

We’ve all heard the question: Which came first, the chicken or the egg? (ever notice the chicken always comes first in the question?)

Last week, I painted some of Ethan’s chickens (the same Ethan of Ethan’s Eggs). Shiny, wet, unsigned, still sitting on the easel.

Just before this, I showed you some egg paintings. This might cause you to think the egg came first.

Ethan’s Eggs, 8×8″, oil on wrapped canvas, $100

But wait! A few years ago, I painted one of Marilyn’s chickens. This might cause you to decide the chicken came first.

Alas, you would be wrong about the chicken coming first because 10 or 15 years ago, I drew some eggs in pencil. Bummer, it was before digital photography or scanners or computers had become part of my business. I gave the drawing to my friend Annie, because she was always sharing eggs from her birds with me.

In my art life, the eggs came before the chickens. Guess you’ll just have to trust me on this.

Good grief. You people are so boring.

These paintings and more chicken and egg paintings will be available at the upcoming Redbud Festival in Three Rivers, Mother’s Day weekend at the Memorial Building.

 

Speaking of Painting

Who was speaking of painting?

I was, in yesterday’s post, when I told you about the man who said, “You draw better than you paint.”

Indeed, the paintings begin very very roughly, thin paint, general shapes, although I drew the bridge first in pencil, so it isn’t as rough as it sometimes is when I begin.

I didn’t take many intermediate photos of the 10×10″ bridge. After a few layers, I pulled out the 24×30″ painting, dusted it off and dove back in.Getting there on the 10×10″, wondering how much to perfect things. It took a long time to figure out how to interpret the cliffs and the shrubs. By the time I was finished for the day, the light for photography was poor. The bridge itself needs more refining, especially those miniature spaces around the railing. 

As always, I have two main thoughts about my beloved Oak Grove Bridge:

  1. A bridge picture is the perfect blend of architecture and landscape.
  2. This is sort of too hard for me, in spite of it being about the 26th time I’ve painted it. I may not live long enough to paint as well as I draw.

Oil Painting Progress Report

Last week on a very good painting day, I scanned and varnished 5 finished paintings, finished 4 with their details, and signed 3 that were almost dry. That leaves 7 unfinished.

Have a look at the 5 finished paintings:

Ethan’s Eggs, 8×8″, oil on wrapped canvas, $100
Poppy #50, oil on wrapped canvas, 6×6″, $60
Iris VIII, 6×6″, oil on wrapped canvas, $60
Iris IX, 6×6″, oil on wrapped canvas, $60
Farewell Gap XXVI, 8×8″, oil on wrapped canvas, $100

Once again, I forgot how hard the Oak Grove bridge is to paint. Will it ever get any easier? Am I a case of arrested development?

Don’t answer that, please.

Below: The top two and bottom one are drying, the snow scene is inching forward (feels giant at 11×14″ after all the 6×6 oil paintings), the lanterns are low priority (just doing it for the purposes of learning–can you tell that the 4 lanterns on the left are further along than the 3 on the right?). Carla’s Sunflower (on Samson’s window shelf) has been finished since I took this photo.

Painting Mineral King, Continued

Remember this stage of all these Mineral King oil paintings, as seen last week?
Here is the next phase – skies done. Sort of an assembly line method of painting, but I can’t think of a better way to finish 11 paintings in a short amount of time. (Remember, I have a show coming this weekend called Gray Matter? Gotta hang the show, and then who knows how long it will take to figure out what to wear and how to make my hair behave!)

Kind of scary looking to see them all in this stage of semi-completion. Not as bad as sausage, I’ve heard. And once these are finished and scanned, we will all be pleased with the outcomes. I’m confident of this.

I also dabbled a bit more on the lanterns. They are too small for this much detail, but I’ll keep on keeping on.

Because of the lanterns and the recently painted iris and sunflower, my palette is pretty these days. Often it is nothing but browns, grays and greens, so this is more fun.

More Iris Oil Paintings

In thinking about painting Dutch iris, I got curious about the previous oil paintings of my favorite flower.

So, let’s have a look. A couple of these might be Japanese iris instead of Dutch. And the colors always photograph a bit bluer than the beautiful blue violet of real life flowers and paintings.

I like this last one best, but think my current two are better. 

YEA! GROWTH AND PROGRESS!

Maybe. Taste is an individual matter, or in Latin de gustibus non est disbutandem. My dad liked saying that, and it made me smile, so I learned it too. I think it translates as “is it useless to argue about matters of taste”.

 

Iris Oil Paintings in 3 Layers

Layer #1 on these iris oil paintings is rough but recognizable. If I painted with a palette knife, using thick paint and finishing it all in one pass (“alla prima”), then the finished version of these would be similar to this. 

Sorry to disappoint . . . that’s not my style, although it might be fun to try.

Layer #2 is better.

And layer #3 brings them to completion. I love that contrast of light against dark, those crisp edges, that precise detail. And the colors are better in person than on screen here.

Why two paintings that are so similar to one another?

Because Dutch iris are my favorite flower, because it is makes sense to paint multiples, because I am 57 and I can do whatever I want.

Fall down laughing. . .

. . . if I had more sense, I’d be painting multiples of poppies, because those are more popular than Dutch Iris.

Oh yeah?

 

More Oil Paintings in Progress

Lest you think I only paint eggs these days, here is a look at other oil paintings in progress. The way I keep myself glued to the easel is by audio books – The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls was captivating and pushed me through many paintings last week.

Poppies, always need poppy paintings. And I love Dutch iris but haven’t painted any for several years. The lake painting? It’s been in this state for several months. I had another painting of this view for several years before it sold, so I’m not sure that this is a subject that is in demand. 

Those lanterns are definitely too hard for me. So, I dab away, adding one layer at a time, working from back to front and dark to light, wondering if I am learning anything or just reinforcing bad habits. That ignorance is one of the set-backs of being self-taught and working alone.

Decision time. First, the lake. If it took several years for a buyer, why am I painting this again?

Forget it. Bye-bye lake, hello Farewell Gap.

And more Farewell Gap – summer’s coming, and the Silver City Store will want paintings to sell. Here are 2 in progress.

One more layer ought to do the trick on the poppy. Seventeen more attempts on the blue and white plate under the egg might do the trick.

Special delivery!

Artists’ Words

Once of the most dreaded tasks of an artist is having to write a biography. However, this is a piece of cake compared to an “Artist’s Statement”. I have no idea what this actually is, in spite of having read about them numerous times and having tried to wade through such things as written by other artists.

Look at the type of Artspeak that fills up Artists’ Statements.

I’m constructing a framework which functions as a kind of syntactical grid of shifting equivalences.

Or try to digest this one:

Imagine the possibility that painting might take root and find a place to press forward into fertile new terrain.

In reading a blog by artist Lori Woodward recently, I came across this sentence with which I agree completely. I have had this thought this many times:

Representational works need no explanation – they either resonate with the viewer’s life experience, or they don’t.

Here is a piece of art that I hope just speaks for itself:

Sunny Sequoias IXXX, 8×10, oil on wrapped canvas, $125

And here is the link to Lori’s post: Lori Woodward

 

Painting at Home

Happy Birthday, Ruthie! (Or is it on the 25th? Will I ask this question the rest of our lives?)

Isn’t “Painting at Home” a weird title for someone with a home-based studio?

My painting studio is cold and dark on a rainy day. Sometimes I paint there anyway, using an Ott light and a propane heater. It isn’t ideal, but it is what I have. I can color-correct things when the sun shows up. I am not and never will complain about the gift of precipitation!

Last Thursday and Friday I just couldn’t make myself want to be in the studio. There was a fire in the wood stove in the living room (that’s the way we heat our house), Michael was in the house listening to something interesting on the radio, and Samson was also in the house, behaving himself for a change.

So, I decided to paint in the house on the dining table. Suddenly, Samson was no longer content to sleep in my chair in the living room.

Why yes, yes indeedy I do have a couple of original Vermeer paintings in my dining area. How very observant you must be!

It wasn’t ideal, but it worked. On the 2nd day of painting in the house, I rotated everything around to the other end of the table. It wasn’t ideal either, but it certainly beat being alone in the relative dark and cold of the painting workshop.

By working upside down, I can get my shapes a bit more accurate. It is the photo and canvas that are upside down, not me. Never have figured out how to paint while standing on my head.

This last painting is my current Little-Bit-Too-Hard-For-Me piece. I have a theory that if I am always working on something a little bit too hard that maybe my painting will improve. It is the same idea as lifting weights that are almost too heavy to build muscle. (This is not real advice about physical activity. . . I was a PE disaster and know nothing.)

The other paintings are of Mineral King, because I always need to have that subject matter in my inventory.