rediscovering painting
painting
Bent
0929 days
“Bent,” 9″ x 12″, oil on canvas board, $300
“Sometimes you have to break the toy.”
He said that as he was smashing something of his that he really liked. He wasn’t talking to me, he was talking to my friend, Derek, the same guy whose wife blew his head clean off with a shotgun. Different story. Anyway, Derek laughed and I didn’t really get it at the time. I wonder if Derek was laughing because the guy was crazy or if he thought it was really funny.
The moral still holds true: sometimes you have to break the toy. I get it now.
I got this idea for a painting while watching Helvetica and I sketched out a thumbnail over the weekend: a painting split at the Fibonacci point with the top half blue, tainted/dulled with a wee dab of orange, and orange on the bottom, turned rusty/dirty with a wee spot of blue. The word, “Bent,” HAD to appear across the horizontal line and HAD to stretch off the edges. Sometimes I don’t know why they come to me, these ideas just DO. Okay?
Today, as I was prepping to continue my last 2 paintings in the self-portrait series, I flipped over a canvas board and found this really old self-portrait I had begun YEARS ago. The drawing was good in a technical sense but lacked emotion. Vivacity. So I thought to myself, “Self, why not do that blue and rust thing right over this old self-portrait?”
Then, devilishly, I continued, “BREAK THE TOY.”
Bwa ha ha ha!
I broke it. I borked it. I smashed it into little bits. I covered it up in thick paint then rubbed it back out again and left the canvas raw and the paint rough and the strokes mish-mashy and every which way, and I threw in a thought that I couldn’t dismiss as I was painting: “My, you’re a dirty little boy, aren’t you?” Mmm, yes, deliciously dirty.
I Reject This, WIP
0930 days
“I Reject This,” 11″ x 14″, oil on canvas board, WIP
There’s a powerful moment when I ride my motorcycle, when the man-machine connection swells up and washes it all away, when I am. When I just fucking am. I arrive and put on the mask. I reject this.
There’s a part of me that does it because I must. There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to. There’s a part of you that I see and I think as I narrow my eyes at you, “Liar.” There’s an inner monologue that just won’t quit. There’s a little bit of it that I wish I could just turn off. The nag chooses me and I begin to melt into the mould. I reject this.
I look across and see the danger and the white triangle consumes my thoughts. I push it down. I reject it. I reject this.
I see what you’re doing. I hear it in your voice but I go on like I didn’t notice. I see the sacred path unfolding. I hear the “musts” and “shouldn’ts” and I hear you whisper, “Conform.” I reject this.
Falling, WIP
0931 days
“Falling,” 11″ x 14″, oil on canvas board, WIP
The fire burns cleanly when it’s hot. But looks can be deceiving. That’s why, just when you think you’ve got your shit figured out, that god-forsaken deck of cards comes tumbling down around you.
Only thing is, most of the time, for all your stalwart appearances, nobody notices. You quietly control the countenance. Just enough so you’re allowed to be alone in your inner fire. Just enough so it’s only you that knows you’re falling.
Hotel Window
1939 days
“Hotel Window,” 5″ x 7″, $100
My second official (but fourth, actually) Different Strokes from Different Folks picture. I was actually more than a little reluctant to do this one and waited a bit on it. In the end, though, I’m glad I did it. As always, I learned quite a bit from it.
I painted over a few parts because those muddy yellows and distant bluish colors were challenging to get just right. I thought about tossing all realism out the window and going for a completely abstract piece, as many others have done, but I wanted to try a few challenges.
First, I switched Burnt Sienna for Burnt Umber. I’m glad I did – I think I got some better grays and I think it interacted better with yellow. My palette is now down to Titanium White, Yellow Lemon, Alizarin Crimson, French Ultramarine, and Burnt Umber. Just 5 colors (well, technically 4 colors + white). I can get a lot of mileage out of that palette, I think.
Second, I wanted to go a little thinner on the paint, so I did.
Third, my underpainting was a heavily diluted yellow that I then blotted up with a paper towel. It was dry just about immediately. I did my drawing directly in super thinned Burnt Umber, closing one eye and using the paintbrush to measure it out. Burnt Umber, unlike Burnt Sienna, dried really quickly.
I’m very pleased with this painting. Again, not something I’d normally paint, but that’s half the point of doing the DSDF, right?!
“Becoming,” self-portrait #3
0949 days
“Becoming,” 14″ x 18″, oil on canvas board, $700
Third in the series of 5 self-portraits. The series is about me, exploring me, exploring what it takes to become an artist after all these years of denying myself and trying many, many things instead. I’m trying to let the pictures paint themselves as much as possible. Myself the idle passenger, the casual observer changing the results of the experiment simply because I’m observing it.
“Becoming” had a few inspirations. First was the idea that I read somewhere that you should paint the human face with a yellowish upper, reddish middle, and bluish lower. While I understand the reasoning, my personal opinion is that you should describe the face you see, HOW you see it. How YOU see it. So, being the impish little prick I am, I exaggerated that statement in a pseudo-mockery of it. Because I reject things dictated to me by self-proclaimed experts.
I also wanted to do a painting without any white at all. And I succeeded in that – probably for the first time ever.
Burnt Umber has been my nemesis. It always turns to mud. So I re-introduced it here in the underpainting and let a bunch of it show. Look, mama, burnt umber and no mud!
“Becoming” is about edges, mostly. The paint is becoming something because I drew in the outline in my colorful black (or my hand-mixed Payne’s Gray, if you please), intentionally losing edges and intentionally bleeding color without abandon. I put some straight black on one side to push some contrast, but I wanted to keep the painting dark. I’m becoming, but I’m not there yet. I may never be what I am to become, but I am in the process, emerging from the darkness, pushing your fucking rules aside, rejecting what you’re telling me, letting me be me.
Which is all at once intensely simple while simultaneously eluding me at every turn.
Shadows of me
0950 days
So, first, I realized I’m only on my third self-portrait in the series of 5. And I’m not quite sure how to pull together tonight’s painting – I’m going to let it lead me in our subtle dance. I have documented some loose ideas for the other 2 – one’s an old post here and one’s on the nifty voice recorder on my cell phone. Though I’m struggling with one idea. I might pitch it to the bin. The circular file. Yes, the inimitable shitcan. Well, it’s actually a virtual shitcan, but you get the idea.
I was looking at Linda Apple’s bicycle shadow paintings yesterday and my brain did a lightning cross-check of stuff I’ve done, and I had a minor epiphany. Just minor, nothing big. Okay, more like a “duh” moment. I often take pictures of my own shadow. Yes, I’m a dork. So my wife tells me. And she’s probably right. But what just came together was a menage a trois of inspiration (bicycle shadows + my taking pictures of my own shadows + self-portrait series) – series 2, another 5 self-portraits, this time with my shadow lying across various objects, or showing me doing things. I’ve got some tungsten lamps in the garage that will make some nice shadows if the sun doesn’t cooperate.
I can also use this as a platform to get a little more detailed in my paintings. I can burn through 5 of my smaller canvases, toying with detail that way. I can play with contrast, exaggerating colors and values. I can play with various techniques for massing large areas. Hmm, perhaps some additional limited palette exercises.
(as an aside, I accidentally created Burnt Sienna last night from my Payne’s Gray mixture (“colorful black”) and cad red medium – these are things you’ve just got to experience by slapping down some paint on the palette and sloshing it around and asking yourself, “Self, what happens if I do *this*?”)
Eventually, I’ll get to the point where even my bad days are great pieces. For now, though, soldier on and learn, learn, learn by continuing to paint, paint, paint.
Did you ever notice how paintings are somehow disappointing when you get close up? It’s like you expect to see MORE detail when you get closer, but you just see how the artist deftly fooled your eye. I end up feeling a little let down but at the same time I get inspired because I see the mystery unravel before me. And I realize that I can do that, too. And I will. Soon. By exploring some Shadows of Me.
“But Still I Persist”
0950 days
“But Still I Persist,” 11″ x 14″, $450
Once again, spent a lot of time, more than I expected. Once again, I need to learn to use my camera properly.
Overall, though, I’m happy with this. The colors, the words, the pose, the title.
I also got a chance to prep a canvas for tomorrow night’s portrait, which I’ve got drawn and ready to go. Just need to paint it, and I’m intending a very loose painting for my fourth self-portrait (it’s a 5-image series), so I might be able to finish tomorrow night. That would be good because I’m getting antsy to start on the current DSFDF.
A few words on this piece.
Just when you think you’ve got it made, wham! life slams you with a zinger. You think you’re a good artist and then you see so much better. But still you persist. You try to paint more but life gets in the way. But still you persist. You have hopes of a sale and it falls through. But still you persist. Your last painting just doesn’t live up to what’s in your head. But still you persist.
A million lifetimes pass and you’re floating along in the cosmic void and you still don’t think you’ve quite got things figured out. But still, you persist.
The drudgery of another day rears its ugly head and you have a hard time getting out of bed. You’d rather be painting. But still you persist.
Those that are successful are those that are tenacious, that persist. I do this because I must. I must persist. The world will try to get me down, but still I persist. *I* will try to get me down, but still I persist. I will try to be my own saboteur. But still I persist.
“But Still I Persist,” stage 2
0953 days
Okay, got it this far tonight, it’s after midnight and I need to go to bed now…
Boy howdy, this self-portrait has been difficult. Not sure how to quantify or classify that statement, but I think it’s because I’m going for bold colors (the red background is right out of the tube) and I’m going for a VERY flat texture (as opposed to my typical impasto), and because this one has a lot of details.
I still need to do a bit on this one and it’ll probably take all of tomorrow night’s painting time:
- outline with black lines (my colorful black, which is ultramarine and burnt sienna)
- put in some detail on the star – I think I’m going to trace along the inside with red
- put in the curlyque
- lettering, lettering, lettering. This will take most of the time. And lettering in oil over wet oil isn’t exactly easy. Maybe it’ll be tacky enough tomorrow that I’ll not have any issues
Self-portraits are curious things. My wife asked me why I don’t just be honest and stamp “I am awesome” across the top, as if the self-portrait is an homage to myself. I told her, jokingly, that she doesn’t understand my art. She replied, seriously, that I’m right, she doesn’t.
But I’m okay with that. Because my art is for me. I love to share it but, even if it doesn’t sell (and right now, it doesn’t, because I’ve just started), I’ll keep doing it. Always have, always will.
Nope, do it *this* way
0956 days
“Nobody Ever Said It Was Going To Be Easy,” 14″ x 11″, oil on canvas, $450
So I was all set to do just a couple of colors, thinly laid in, with a mostly solid background (perhaps a vivid background, though). But the painting wouldn’t let me. It whispered dirty little things to me as I painted, things I’ll not repeat here. It teased me. It was the good girl then it was the bad girl. Then it told me to break it, anyway.
What can I say? I had to paint the painting how it wanted to be painted, not how I wanted to paint it.
Though I think I STILL suck at taking pictures of my artwork, especially when I do those terrifically messy and thick white brushstrokes – the white balance goes nuts and I have to tweak in The GIMP.
I mostly stuck with a limited palette. Except when I didn’t.
I mostly stuck to my original vision. Except when I didn’t.
I mostly thought I could get away with it. Except when I didn’t.
Then, rudely, the painting told me to get over myself. Self-portraits are such prima donnas sometimes.
Thinking about ditching ivory black
0960 days
Since doing my last painting in Burnt Sienna, Yellow Ochre, Ivory Black, and Titanium White, I’ve been giving thought to the limitations of that palette – both good and bad.
First, I felt my colors were really low key. But that forced me to focus on values more than color, which I definitely need. But I wanted a little more variety, more options in what I’m mixing. So I started to dig.
I Googled my palette on Google Image Search and came up with several examples of people using this palette, but also some people using additional colors. So I peered down the rabbit hole and continued my search through the maze. Slowly, the maze started to simplify and I came to some conclusions.
Mostly, I need to switch blacks. Ivory black was good but very dull. “These Are Days” has a couple of dull spots where I came back in to fix the value with Ivory Black vs. my original mixture of Alizarin Crimson and Ultramarine (“colorful black”). The colorful black was nice and shiny and didn’t dry as purple as it looked when it was wet.
I discovered that Payne’s Gray is (essentially) Burnt Sienna and Ultramarine. And it has a slightly purplish tone to it when you mix in white. That would have done wonders for the girl’s sweater (which, you can see, was actually a light purple, not yellow, but I couldn’t mix purple without blue, and Ivory Black insisted on making a neutral gray).
Then I wondered to myself, “Self, what about green?” Hmm, without blue, it seemed I was in a pickle. Then my rabbit hole ended on a thread about copying Velasquez – a limited palette of Titanium White, Ultramarine Blue, and Burnt Sienna. That’s it. You mix your black from Ultramarine and Burnt Sienna. You mix your greens my washing blue over the underpainting – done in Yellow Ochre.
A ha! There’s that sneaky little devil. I knew I’d find you, green!
Seems that ditching black altogether and mixing Payne’s Gray for myself from Ultramarine and Sienna is the way to go. Very simple, very clean, and might do wonders for me. Still won’t do orange very well (Burnt Sienna and Yellow Ochre don’t mix to a very orangey orange), but that’s okay. I don’t need it right now. And I’ll be able to do some good stuff for my next painting, concentrating more on values and less on color.
So long, Ivory Black, and thanks for the fish.