Archive for September, 2009

“This is not a Stop Sign,” study

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Study for “This is not a Stop Sign,” 5″ x 7″, NFS

stop_sign_study

I took this picture of a really tall stop sign. I got right up underneath it and took a strong-angled pic of it.

I continue to learn. On this painting, I learned that stop signs aren’t really red at all. I didn’t believe myself at first, so I used the eyedropper tool in The GIMP (free, Photoshop-like app for Linux) and picked the colors. This stop sign is burnt sienna and pink, actually. My instinct was to reach for the cad red medium, but there’s no cad red medium in this sign.

I learned to trust myself with direct color-on-color, wet-on-wet painting with much of this painting. The pole came out beautifully, in fact, and it was done with only a few strokes of strong color.

I learned that the outer edges of the sign, the white border, is really, really hard to paint. And it’s not white, either – it’s light pink at the top and grayish pink at the bottom.

I learned how to apply a really, really thin line at the edge of the sign. I was worried I wouldn’t be able to do it, but I pulled it off and I’m proud of myself for it.

I didn’t do a drawing for this. I had the picture turned 180 degrees and I painted it that way, too. I’ve done the “upside-down drawings” bit before so this isn’t new to me. This is just a study so I figured I’d keep it loose and go with it, flaws and all.

Speaking of flaws, I learned that I should do lettering right-side-up. The lettering is positively awful in this piece but, again, it’s a study and I learned a lot there, too. I learned how to remove paint for the letters after the fact and I figured out a good way to get the paint on there without making a mess by dragging the existing paint around and muddying things up.

Above all, though, I love the way the bolts came out. Simple, easy, effective.

I set myself free on this painting and I’m happy with this study. I am going to do an 11″ x 14″ version of this painting at some point in the future and I think I’ve learned quite a bit by doing a study on it. I’ve never done a painted study for a painting before. Lemme tell ya, it’s valuable.

Ciao.

Frustration

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“Frustration,” 18″ x 24″, oil on canvas, $1250

frustration

Eventually, you do an exercise in an art class or workshop where you paint an emotion. That’s not really what I did here. This painting is how I see “frustration” and how I experience it, though I didn’t quite know until I painted it.

It was not an exercise in frustration. It was quite enjoyable to paint.

Some cool things about this painting:

  • it is entirely done in cyan, magenta, yellow, and white
  • the background is magenta (rose) with a little dab of cyan (cobalt blue)
    • To make the white lines pop, I added the slightest touch of yellow, careful not to overdo it
  • the boxes were done with a palette knife (very thickly)
  • there are some subtle details not visible in the photo
  • the boxes represent a massive frustration that I can’t shake

Now that I’ve painted it, hopefully it will leave me alone and let me move on to other paintings, stop occupying that little space that is set on “ad infinitum” and I can’t, for the life of me, figure out where the switch or dial is to change it up.

But it’s okay now. I think.

How does this painting make you feel?

Get out of my head!

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Sometimes an idea gets in my head and it will consume me until I unleash it. Until I feed it. Until I soothe the savage beast.

It’s me, of course.

I’ve got lots of ideas. I just don’t write them down. Today, I wrote them down. They’ve left me alone for a while so I think they’re basking in that sweet glow of satisfaction. But the test will be actually painting them. Yes, actually painting them, no matter how awful they come out, and posting the results right here. Shame, world. World, shame. Now that you’re introduced, here’s some prelims to set your peepers to:

This is Not a Stop Sign

This is Not a Stop Sign

Concept: oblique angle photo taken of a stop sign on a really sunny day at noon, with only blue sky showing. Sign is sun bleached and sort of washed out. The sky is vivid noon-day blue. The text and title of the piece is “This is Not a Stop Sign.” Because it isn’t. It’s a painting of a stop sign.

The writing will be white with some dark blue (maybe ivory black) shadowing, selectively, to highlight the letters against the background, as needed.

You Mustn't Say It

You Mustn't Say It

“You Mustn’t Say It” is one of those “why the hell did you take a picture of THAT?” pictures I took a while ago. Found it the other day and thought the vibrant colors on this Fisher Price toy would make a great painting against a white, possibly slightly faded background. Why do I take pictures like this? I could tell you, but I mustn’t say it.

I Thought It Was Me

I Thought It Was Me

I was watching some of David Lynch’s early works, most notably Alphabet when I was struck with this image in my head. The drawing doesn’t do it justice, but I had to get it down before the inspiration left. So here it is. There will be a broken outline of a skull in white on a solid red background, with me from a photo of me that I’m thinking of, where my arm is around my wife. Only my arm won’t be around my wife and my face will be half black and half white, on a vertical center.

Frustration

Frustration

“Frustration” is a piece I’ve been laboring over in my mind for a few days now. An experiment in Cyan/Magenta/Yellow and a little graphic design bit. I want this to be the largest canvas I have (probably a 24″ x 30″ canvas board). I might even go out to JoAnn Fabrics and use a 50% off coupon this weekend so I can paint this on a stretched canvas. I’m excited about this one.

The background will be a vivid red, mixed from Cobalt Blue (Cyan) and Rose Madder (Magenta). The stripes will be white. The stripes will have a left-side drop shadow done in pure magenta pigment. I’m considering coloring in the interstitial shapes but, as I went over the painting in my head (I’ve already painted it in my head, you see), I decided that might distract and detract. I’m waffling and it’s oil paint, so I have room to experiment and scrape accordingly.

The lower right-hand blocks will be a play on a corporate logo, abstracted sufficiently. It will also invoke the test pattern you see printed on most commercially printed items (like potato chip bags).

These Are Days
I haven’t abandoned “These Are Days,” I’m just letting it dry a bit more. I don’t want the dark blue/purple mixing with the orange too much or I’ll get a lot of mud. I also want to be able to lay on the lights really thickly, and I’ve found that if the underpainting is a little too wet that I end up wasting a lot of paint. Not a problem on the smaller, 5″ x 7″ paintings, but an issue as I work on larger canvases.

Taking a couple days off
I’m trying to keep up the painting as much as possible (or at least the preliminary work for paintings), and I’m shooting for 3 days/week minimum, preferably 4, no more than 5. I have other commitments and I have other things I’m doing (like documentaries and movies that inspire me – like the David Lynch short films, and books that inspire – I’m reading Octavia Butler’s Fledgling, which is pretty good).

“I’m Not Chasing You”

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“I’m Not Chasing You,” 5″ x 7″ on gallery wrap canvas, $100

not_chasing_you

Lucy’s a nice dog. She has three legs. To compensate, she has massive muscles on her opposite leg. I mean MASSIVE.

Lucy is also very hyperactive. She needs a lot of attention.

This painting of Lucy isn’t really a painting of Lucy at all. You see, I sat down with one of my better canvases, the real kind that’s stretched over a wooden frame, and told Lucy, “No, Lucy, I’m not chasing you. So just sit there and be painted. The paint will fall where it may, and that’s that. I’m going to paint a warm background, and that’s that. I’m going to paint you without an underdrawing, and that’s that. I’m going to paint your pink skin and your blue eyes over a purple wash and that’s that. And I don’t care how you’re going to turn out. And that’s that.”

Lucy is 200 miles away, but I’m sure she heard me and howled into the warm California night. As is her wont. I told her I wasn’t chasing her, I told the painting I was in no mood. And I was true to my word.

I really enjoyed this painting. I had fun painting it. You see, I’m starting to believe. Like Neo, I didn’t believe it at first, but now I’m beginning to believe.

I take pictures. I take pictures that make people ask, “Why did you take a picture of THAT?”

“Because I like it. And it struck my fancy. That’s why.”

And I’m beginning to trust myself to paint. And I’m beginning to see that I can use my pictures as inspiration. I’m beginning to allow a style to form. I’m beginning. I’m becoming.

And that’s that.

These Are Days, darks

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Background / wash
I managed to work in a background wash using a mixture of Burnt Sienna and Ivory Black thinned down with turp. I blocked in the hair using the same mixture.

Laying in darks
I came back through a few minutes later (the background dries quickly when it’s thinned out with lots of turp) and darkened with an Ultramarine / Alizarin mixture. With the background slightly damp, the Sienna mixture mixed with the shadow color right on the canvas.

Pulling out the lights
Finally, I cleaned my brush and, while it still had some thinner in it, pulled out the highlights. In a few places, I used a paper towel to pull off even more paint. I was going for the strong contrast of the lightest lights against the darkest darks.

Goals
I’m pushing contrast in this piece. And I’m simplifying, though it’s hard, man, it’s really hard to stay simple and not paint what I see. But it’s art, not Xerox.

(the shadow at the top is the upper clamp on my easel)

these_are_days_rough_sienna

these_are_days_pulled_highlights

Still plenty to do.

These are days, charcoal sketch

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I’m doing a bit of a complicated piece. Three kids together with lots of bright lights and shadows around them. When I do something more complex – especially with subjects I actually know – I like to sketch it out in charcoal. I do like to do a grid, but all I do is lay in guides in GIMP (free, Photoshop-like app for Linux) at the vertical and horizontal halves. Then I roughly guesstimate the lines on the canvas. No measuring. Then, using that rough guide, I draw.

Drawing skills are extremely important. Tracing does not develop your drawing ability. Only your tracing ability. If you want to draw better, then draw. I personally would like to paint better, but I already know how to draw. So I DO draw, then I paint. Sometimes I draw directly in paint. Well, usually I do; this is the second of these 7 paintings to have a charcoal drawing (“Summers End” was the other one). Take a look – all of the other drawings were done in paint, directly on canvas.

In case you didn’t know, oil paints don’t cover up graphite all that well. I’m going to spray fixative on the charcoal under-drawing and let it dry for a day so I can begin laying in paint tomorrow.

However, let it be said that this is still an experiment. I’ve been toying with a more limited palette. I think this is painting #7. I’ve got 93 to go before I’ve burned my first 100 “bad paintings.” Maybe then I can stop impersonating an artist and actually claim to be one? I don’t know. This, as with so many other things, becomes such a rabbit hole that I sometimes wonder what in the high holy hell I’m doing.

My typical palette:

  • Titanium white (tried flake white but it’s REALLY stiff)
  • Cad yellow light
  • Alizarin crimson
  • Ultramarine blue
  • Burnt sienna
  • Ivory black

So that’s about it. I will sometimes pull in Cad Yellow Medium, Cad Red Medium, pthalo blue, Payne’s gray, or yellow ochre. This gives me a full “split complement” palette plus a bit more in the earth colors. I’ve been staying away from the umbers because I ALWAYS end up making mud with them. They’ll probably be the subject of a future experiment.

“These Are Days,” or maybe “What They Don’t Know.” 9″ x 12″ on canvas board. Charcoal preparation for an oil painting. (I’ve made slight changes since I took this picture, but you’ll see that as I lay in painting). The torsos are all a little long but I like that. I see this painting as the end of a day of play, three friends bathed in partial but strong evening sun, long days giving way to winter, soon. By extension, the carefree days of their youth seem long and infinite to them, knowing nothing about what life has in store for them.

what_they_don't_know

these are days_small

Big brush

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“Big Brush,” 9″ x 12″, oil on canvas board, NFS

big_brush

Ref image:

0915091359

Today’s piece was an experiment. First, I wanted to force myself to use ONLY a big brush. Probably a number 6 (but it says 3/4″ on it). It was exceedingly huge compared to my normal number 2 and number 4.

I also wanted to leave a lot of the underpainting showing through, to have thin darks/shadows, and let the piece have an abstract look to it. I was also going for some bright colors.

What didn’t work:

  • I don’t think pavement works as blue, though, having done that twice now
  • The pavement would have been better without so much brushwork. I wanted the focal point to be the speed bump but it got drowned out
  • Green not used anywhere but at the top

What did work:

  • The sky/trees/cars came out very well. I almost think I could cut the canvas and keep the top 6″
  • I did stay with the big brush
  • The background does show through quite a bit
  • I was able to keep the cars very, very simple but still recognizable
  • I learned a LOT

If you have to do 100 paintings (some say 1000, some say 120) before you get good, I’m well on my way. This is my 6th painting, I believe, and I’m already more comfortable with the paint; I’ve made about 80% less mud. I’ve overcome the fear of the canvas. I’m pushing myself to overcome the fear of “what if this isn’t a good painting?”

You know what? Nobody cares.

This picture is just me taking a picture of a shadow I saw over a speed bump in a parking lot. I wanted this particular photo to be a reference for this learning painting precisely because it’s a speed bump, both literally and figuratively. Speed bumps are meant to slow you down, and you do slow, sometimes, and then go a little bit faster after passing over it just to spite the damned thing.

Pearls and girls

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I did this drawing several years ago. I can get pretty good when I’m in practice. Makes me want to kick myself in the ass more often and get on with it.

3color-stage1-charcoal3color-stage3-midtones3color-stage5-finished

This is just on a sketch pad – as you can tell by the spiral at the edge of the scan.

Just after this, I delivered a double portrait to my wife’s friend. This double portrait took me about 28 hours and is about 10″ x 14″, I believe. Sorry about the angled picture. I could have straightened it in Photoshop but didn’t want it distorted at all. I have a straight-on picture but it came out all yellow. I really need to learn how to manually control the white balance on my Digital Rebel.

phillips_kids_angled

Autumn Comes Early

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“Autumn Comes Early,” 5″ x 7″, oil on canvas board, $100

source photo:

autumn_source

my painting:

"Autumn Comes Early," 5" x 7", oil on canvas board, $100

"Autumn Comes Early," 5" x 7", oil on canvas board, $100

Autumn comes early this year
I lie in repose
Cold concrete, barren and gray

Autumn comes early for me
Dead leaves by the curb
Brown, orange, and sienna

Autumn forever
Dry brush drags on the canvas
Sing that song again

I used a #4 brush for the entire painting. Nothing but a #4. The canvas was toned in Cad Yellow Medium and Cad Red Medium (orange) and lots of thinner.

This time of year, Northern California is still in summer, really. Today however, there were some fallen leaves by the curb. Has autumn come early? Have I missed the blaze of the New England autumn spectacle? Yes, but only just.

My goal was to hint. To suggest. And to contrast the orange with the blue of the light sidewalk and the blue of the road. Sienna brings this piece together. I’m happy with the result (thought the photo doesn’t do it justice… I need to get better at photographing my artwork).

Sunlight and Solitude

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“Solitude and Sunlight,” 9″ x 12″, oil on canvas board, $300

Sometimes you have to push yourself. You have to push your style. So I pushed up to a larger canvas, a 9″ x 12″. I also tried a thin under-painting first. Finally, I went with a really, really dark background that I prepared about a week ago instead of freshly prepared. Oh, wait, one more thing – I wanted to use as little linseed oil as possible and go with turp instead.

Here’s the source image. It’s an older one from the “Different Strokes from Different Folks” biweekly challenge blog. I’m just getting back into painting and I need to explore, so this works great for me.

sitting_man_ref

Here’s my painting (still on the easel, drying):

"Solitude and Sunlight," 9" x 12", oil on canvas board

"Solitude and Sunlight," 9" x 12", oil on canvas board

So how did I do? Well, I did do the larger canvas. I did the under-painting with turp and no linseed oil. I did find that the thicker paint that I like to use to show my brush strokes didn’t work well with thin paint or paint straight out of the tube. So I got out the linseed oil and used it for the thick, top layer.

I don’t know what this man is waiting for, but he was a challenge. I struggled at first until I put away the number 2 brush and whipped out the larger brush and forced myself to stick with it the rest of the painting. I’m getting better at thick-over-thick where I need it. And I’m growing exceedingly fond of an impasto style for the lightest lights.

They say that tomorrow never comes. If it does, I’ll paint another and this time, maybe, just maybe, I’ll take pictures along the way to show my blunders, reworks, sticking points, and breakthroughs.

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