Tag: oil painting

October 24, 2016

Building a Painting, Part 3: The Ravens Have Landed!

“Needless to say, urgings by ravens are ignored at one’s peril.”
James D. Doss

In Part One and Part Two of Building a Painting, I explained how the wooden surface was prepared and why using an imprimatura to begin the painting on a color ground is a good idea. Then I shared how my version of the Nordic forest was designed, transferred and painted in gray and yellow. Next the words Hugin, Minnin, and Munninn were added. Now the urge is on to get those ravens in the painting, and like James Doss said, “Urgings by ravens are ignored at one’s peril.”

FullSizeRender 24 — Background painted and ready to go!

I envisioned the background as a painted theater backdrop with the ravens on stage, forming a triad, the yellow band from the landscape to be in the middle. I drew each bird individually, to scale on tracing paper, moving them around until they made a pleasing composition. Like baby bear’s porridge, just right!

A second piece of paper was laid on top of the birds, and another tracing was made so that all the birds are on a single sheet of paper. I’m having so much fun that I decide to go all out with the drawing. Once done, I realize that, Holy Audubon, after all that effort I can’t trace over the top of this drawing. So, what the heck–I do one more tracing, this time leaving out details. I also add a suggestion of a ledge or cliffs and a downed tree.

Can’t stop drawing! The ravens are now drawn on a single sheet of tracing paper.

I flip the drawing over to prep the tracing paper. But before I begin, I get the impulse to see how this reversed composition might work in the painting. Much to my surprise, I find this composition more to my liking and decide to go with this view.

The line drawing after it was reversed, resulting in a more pleasing composition.

To make the transfer, I rubbed the reverse side with graphite and then used odorless mineral spirits to dissolve the graphite. Once that is dried, the drawing can be flipped right side up, placed on the board and the image traced.

img_3371-2 — Detail showing using graphite on the reverse side of the tracing paper.

Almost done with the initial shading with graphite.

Using odorless mineral spirit to dissolve the graphite, making a transfer surface.

The line drawing is evident with the graphite on the back. Once traced, the image will be transferred on the board.

With the image now transferred on to the board, I can begin putting the first layer of paint on the birds using a blue-black hue, thinned with medium.

img_3384-10 — The ravens are beginning to appear, like magic!

Cliffs, rocks and the fallen tree are in place and adjustments made to the background. Time to let things dry before the next layer is added.

img_3446-2 — Here’s the first layer with the birds, cliffs and fallen tree.

Next in Building a Painting: The work continues with redefining the subject matter and adding details and fine tuning.

This Week in the Studio

I’ve been working on, you guessed it, another raven painting! This time I will use the raven as a stand-in for the mad monk, Savonarola, best known as the force behind the “bonfires of the vanities”.

fullsizerender-45

And, of course, there’s been the grand run-around– dropping off artwork in Pontiac, going to Frankfort for an opening reception and the like. To find out where my work is on display, visit News and Views or to see in the real, stop by River’s Edge Gallery in Wyandotte.

July 29, 2016

Gone Fishing

Benny Andrews said: ”I take a lot of vacations. Little ones, a couple of days. It’s like coming up for air, when I’m preoccupied with my work.”

The Studio Journal is on a short summer hiatus and will be returning soon. In the meantime, I am working diligently in the studio and classroom, painting, teaching, creating and enjoying, now and again, our hot and beautiful Michigan summer.

FullSizeRender 34 — Progress on “Thought, Memory and Desire”.

I just want to share this image with you as I continue making progress on my latest work. These “rogues” keep caw-cawing me to step up my pace and get things done! Jeez, I’m flapping my wings as fast as I can!

Thank you to everyone who has come out to view artwork at my various exhibits this summer. Your support means the world to me!

June 27, 2016

Build a Painting, Part Two: All Hail the Imprimatura!

When making a painting, only one thing counts: what you do next.

Walter Darby Bannard

In Part One on how to “Build a Painting”, I began where most building projects begin, at the ground level. I described my intention and motivation to complete a painting based on Odin’s Ravens, exploring notions of memory, thought and desire. Then I shared the techniques and materials that I used to transform a wood panel into a ready-to-use paint surface.

Using a short-napped roller to give an even texture. — Adding the ground to the sealed panel.

Now that the panel has dried to a bright white, and the surface has a subtle texture from using the roller, it’s time to paint the imprimatura, the first paint layer. This very thin underpainting is applied to the white canvas, almost like a stain. It provides a middle tone that helps establish value relationships from dark to light and it also provides a layer for light to enter the painting and refract back out. Traditionally, earth colors like sienna, umber and ochre are used. However, in many of my landscape paintings, I use a cadmium red as the imprimatura; the warm orangy-red hue adds a complement to the greens of the land and the blue of the sky, making the painting luminous.

The cadmium red imprimatura imparts a glow in this older work, “Michigan Skyscape: Emmet County, Summer”.

In the current painting, I hope to capture a similar glow. So onward with the cadmium red, thinned with Gamsol Solvent. This is only a thin layer; don’t be fooled by its intensity. (Oftentimes, I take a cloth to wipe off some of the paint.) There is something very visceral in covering the surface with RED and I always feel gleeful at this step!

In my mind, I can envision the black birds against a background of yellow sky in a soft misty gray Nordic forest. Before I paint the background, I sketch the forest so that I know approximately where to paint the various hues.

The drawing on tracing paper to determine the background composition.

For this layer, I mix a string of grays, cadmium yellow, a touch of cobalt blue and white paint. In order to build a painting that is stable it is necessary to work the paint layers “fat over lean”, so I modified the paint with Gamsol and a small amount of linseed oil. And away I go!

Yellow and grey, with a smidge of cobalt blue at the top.

Still visible is that cadmium red peeking through. Can you see it there, particularly at the bottom? At this point, I am enamored of the painting; it reminds me of one of the Great Lakes. I toy with the idea of completing another version of this as an abstracted lake-scape painting, even going so far as fetching another canvas from my storeroom. In the end, I remind myself to stay on track! Still, it haunts me.

Remember my idea to incorporate the words, Minnin, Hugin and Munin in the background? Using clear contact paper, I cut out the letters to use them as a mask and place them on the dried paint surface. I’m almost ready for the next layer.

The words are cut from clear contact paper to serve as a mask.

Next Up: Painting the forest and punching up the yellow in the background.

This Week in the Studio

A gift comes my way in the form of this fantastic fish bone, complete with the tail still intact. I can already imagine how I am going to use it in one of my mixed media pieces. Thank you Leah for knowing I would want this treasure!

I attended the opening of the Michigan Fine Arts Competition at the Birmingham-Bloomfield Hills Art Center on Friday and was floored to discover that I had garnered the President’s Award. The funny thing is that in the past I had entered this particular piece of work in the annual exhibit and had the same artwork REJECTED! Go figure!

June 12, 2016

Build a Painting, Part 1: “Ground Level”

Well begun is half done.

Aristotle

I’ve heard you out there in WWW-land asking, “Hey, Martine, what does it really take to build a painting?” I’m glad you asked! I want to invite you to see my process, start to finish, mistakes and all. I’ll explain my intention for the work as well as technical aspects, as I take my traditional landscape painting in a new direction. Andiamo, let’s go.

The Intention

My goal: a painting based on the idea of memory, thought and desire. Central to the painting will be Odin’s ravens Hugin and Munin, (Thought and Desire). Every morning they leave the Norse god’s side and return at the end of the day, recounting all they have seen in the world while on their sojourn. I’ve added a third raven, basing his name on the Norse word for Memory: Minni or Minnin. Memory, Thought, Desire- a pretty powerful trio.

Because memory, thought, and desire often seem to be hidden from us mere mortals, I want to embed those words into the background. This will mark a departure from my usual style; I don’t usually use text in image based works. In addition, I like the idea of using metal leafing on the finished artwork, so I will need to paint on board rather than canvas. With all this in mind, I buy a cradled maple wood board from the local art store and set about preparing it for oil paint, choosing 24 x 36 inches as good size. Like Baby Bear’s rocking chair, neither too small nor too big.

Preparing the Panel, aka The Substrate

Using Gamblin PVA (think of it as a thin glue), I apply several coats to the panel, front and back, in order to seal the wood. A not-to-be missed step, this protects the painting from wood discoloration and protects the panels from the linseed oil and moisture changes which may warp the wood. The 1″ sides are covered with painter’s tape that will be removed after the painting is complete.

Gamblin PVA is used to seal the wood panels.

Once the layers have dried the panels are coated with Gamblin Oil Painting Ground, thinned with a small amount of Gamblin Gambol Odorless Mineral Spirits. The ground will serve as a primer for the oil paint. For this step, I start in the center of the panel and use a rubber trowel to evenly and thinly apply the ground over the boards.

Spreading the ground with a rubber trowel.

After spreading the ground with the trowel, a short-napped roller is used to even things out and to give it a nice texture. I love this part!

I lightly sand the now dry boards and apply an additional coat of ground. (Gamblin advises letting the final layer dry for about a week). Time to give them one more sanding, then I can admire my handiwork. I must say, there is a certain satisfaction in all of this preparation that is missing when you buy ready made off the shelf!

Sanding the board between layers of ground.

Note: for a great tutorial on the process visit How to Prime Ampersand Wood Panels. Or if you prefer video, here’s one from Gamblin describing the process.

Next Up: Part 2: Applying the imprimatura and working on the drawing for the background.

This Week in the Studio

I am about as done with these Mondrian inspired works as I’m going to be– or so I think! Can’t wait for them to be dried to the touch so I can oil them out and send them on their way to be photographed.

I continued to add paint to the bee rondo–slow going but I am determined to see this multilayered project through to completion!

In other news, two new exhibits are up and running and I got the notification that one of my favorite 3-D pieces, Of What Sappho Sings, was selected from 600 entries for the Michigan Fine Arts Competition at the BBAC. Details for all the shows can be read on my webpage Views and News.

June 5, 2016

Write On! Life Lessons at the Tip of a Pen

Calligraphy is a kind of music not for the ears, but for the eyes.
V. Lazursky

Once upon a time, most of my artistic output was as a calligrapher, using the medium to create both fine art and in practical applications. Now, once upon a year, I return to the Land of Calligraphy, on the Isle of Italic, surrounded by the Sea of Ink. There I complete Certificates of Completion for the special needs adults at a school where my husband teaches. This year, as I bent to my task, it occurred to me that lessons learned from the end of the nib have parallels in other parts of life. Here are five life lessons that came to mind:

Things Take More Time Than You Think

There were only 11 certificates to complete, first and last names. I was certain that the task would be accomplished quickly. Still it took me a good three-four hours to finish. Howsacome? as Dad likes to say. Because the task was not only about the actual writing but also included the gathering of supplies, setting up the work station (the importance explained in a previous post, Everybody, Let’s Mise-en-Place!), doing the rough drafts, double checking the final product, and so on.

It seems to me that every project, in and out of the studio, always takes more time than first envisioned. When I am honest about that, I can give myself enough time (read: DO NOT WAIT UNTIL THE LAST MINUTE), so as not to feel frantic and rushed. So let’s do ourselves a favor and be realistic about the time needed, and then double it. After all, I don’t remember ever saying, “Whoa, I have way too much time for this project!”

Be in the Present Moment

When you are in the Zen of scribing, your attention is on the letter you are writing, the word you are composing, the stroke, the spring to the serif, the pressure of the pen on paper, the ink that rests on the nib. I have found that the only additional input that I can negotiate is listening to classical music. In fact, once when I was listening to an audio book I started transcribing the story I was listening to rather than the text I was copying. Oy vey!

To be in the present moment, at the easel, in the studio, home with kith and kin, elevates the ordinary to the sacramental. Sure it’s not an easy task, especially for those of us operating under the illusion that we can multitask. Still, as we scribe, so we thrive. At least that’s the official word.

Ink Happens

Plan, plan and plan some more–mix the ink to the right consistency, clean the pen, rule the paper, practice the font. Still, in spite of all, sometimes ink happens and the inkwell spills, usually when you are almost done, and then, gasp, the moment of horror when your realize all is naught, zip, zero, nada.

Oh jeez, is that not a metaphor for those times in our life, artistic or otherwise, when the Muse, in a fit of mischief, places us in such a state. We are then presented with the challenge: give up or go on. You know how we are my friend; we sigh, cry, clean up and solider on. So, hand me a clean piece of paper. Let’s make this happen!

There Ain’t No Eraser, Baby

You might find that your letter forms are not spot on and the lines of text are not entirely straight. The materials used in calligraphy are often indelible, and cannot be removed, or in some cases, even covered up. In other words, not every undertaking will be perfect and you are going need to deal with unerasable mistakes. Sometimes you can rethink a splotch (“Does this look like a bird? A little bird picture would be good here, right?”), adapt a misplaced mark (“That letter “p” just needs an extra curly-q to make it look okay.”), or worst case, you may need to start over (“Oops, I just wrote “Bib” instead of “Bob”! Do you think Bob will really mind if I change his name?”).

It is glorious when everything clickety-clacks along, but when things happen that can’t be undone, on the page or in life, identify what can be fixed, or figure how you can adapt the mistake, or recognize the need to discard and begin anew.

Above all, don’t be concerned about getting it all perfect; that’s never going to happen. Trust me, you can relax and let that worry go.

Find the Rhythm in the Black and White

There is beautiful rhythm that occurs when the white space between and within the letters are in balance with the black shapes of the letter form. A tilt in either direction throws things off-balance. Think in terms of black/white, yin/yang, light/shadow, you need the balance of both for wholeness. Balance is my biggest challenge in life, balancing my studio practice with the business portion of art; walking the middle way of commitments to family and friends and the need to create; maintaining the poise between work and recreation. In other words, finding equilibrium and harmony and a sense of centeredness in the daily dealings of life.

So that’s it, my lessons learned this week, found at the end of the pen nib. Maybe later I’ll share the lessons learned while running a race, just as soon as I clean up this ink spill.

This Week in the Studio

A great week in the studio, feeling productive.

I have begun a new painting, 20 x 30 inches, oil on board, title TBD. This is a new direction and it will be interesting to watch where this takes me. Here is the background with the words Minnin, Munin and Hugin (Thought, Memory, Desire):

I also was able to oil-out one of the self portraits, one of my favorite steps in painting, and I am pleased with the results. Once dry, I’ll deliver it to the photographer for it’s “official” photograph and share it with you then.

Speaking of self portraits, I’m back to the Mondrian pair, repainted the red rectangles (already repainted the other colors). Next will be to touch up the black grid, let them dry and then oil out the canvas.

Finally, I got another rondo, the ammonite (spiral shell), fairly completed.

Whew.

May 7, 2016

To Be or Not to Be (an Artist), That is the Question

“An artist cannot fail; it is a success to be one.”

Charles Horton Cooley

My name is Martine and I am an artist.

“Hello, Martine”

Yep, that’s me alright; I admit it freely. And I ain’t sorry. However, there are times when I do wonder, as any reasonable person might, why.

Why be an artist when the financial rewards are so slim?

Why be an artist when you must decline invitations and limit social gatherings because you need the time to create?

Why be an artist when you must forego the friendship of certain people because their demands, craziness and drama, however exciting, detract and drain you from art making?

Why be an artist when there are hundreds, no thousands, of other artists out there, making art more accomplished and innovative than yours?

Why be an artist when you can find programs and websites and technologies that will produce “original” artwork for pennies on the dollar?

Well, as we say in Italian class: Perchè? Perchè! Why? Because!

True, most of us aren’t making enough money selling our work to support a flea. If we are lucky we find jobs in art related fields, or otherwise we work at something to pay bills. We may occasionally sell a piece or two. So if we set aside financial reward as the mark of success and look to the success of a task well done, to the best of our abilities, then why not be an artist?

Instead of thinking of all the times we say “no” to social invitations, perhaps we should see that those “no-s” are the times we say “yes” to our creative spirit. When we are so fortunate as to be able to say yes to spending time with our Muse, that gracious being, then why not be an artist?

There will be relationships that impede our artistic undertaking. We then wish those individual peace and Godspeed, leaving space to open our artist arms to those who feed our souls, encourage our undertakings and provide us with needed emotional support. With such folks in our corner, why not be an artist?

Out in the great big world there are artists more accomplished in technique, salesmanship, and luck than you. If you know that you are doing your best work, find joy in the process, and create something that resonates with another human being, then why not be an artist?

Technology and some markets provide cheap labor, producing an inexpensive product that looks like original art. Accept that it is not your job to try to undersell either them or yourself, and somewhere there is someone who can’t live without your work. With such knowledge, then why not make art?

How fortunate as artists to be given both the creative hunger and the means to satisfy that desire! You will always find plenty of reasons why you can’t or shouldn’t be an artist. Like a newly found shiny penny, flip the excuse over and see the answer to the question: why be an artist? The answer: why not? Why not indeed!

This Week in the Studio

Slow week in the studio as we wrapped up the Spring semester and began plans for the Summer sessions. Still–made progress on the Mondrian inspired self-portrait, and worked on the honey comb and pineapple rondel.

April 30, 2016

If At First You Don’t Succeed, Fail, Fail, and Fail Again

“Would you like a formula for success? It’s quite simple, really. Double your rate of failure.”

Thomas J. Watson

The curtain rises on the studio space, skylights above, drop cloths below. The maestro begins the lesson with a gentle but stern lecture on the years it will take to master the tools and techniques of the craft. You, overcome with genius, passion, and an innate talent that will be ruined by academic guidance, touch the brush to the canvas and the magic pours out. Wait, what is that sound? Could it be the choir of Muses, singing your praises? Is it the maestro, weeping to have been so fortunate to have been at the birth of such genius? And not just that painting, but success each and every time at the easel! Bravo, kudos, roses!

Sigh. If only the road to mastery was so easy and the one to success so consistent.

My advice this week, is this: if you really want to make something worthwhile, plan on failing, quite a bit. This truth can be hardtack for some artists to digest. A class or workshop under the old belt and, if the experience was positive, success is expected on a regular basis. If the experience was not up to expectations, then one might as well throw in the paint brush because the art fairy must have skipped town on the day talent was dispensed.

But struggle– not the sort that wears and tears and defeats, but the struggle that results in gaining real understanding– is critical for artistic growth. If every creative encounter results in success, you aren’t reaching high enough; it is the stumbling that builds strength and endurance.

And you need to commit to the time needed to fail, evaluate, relearn, try again and repeat as necessary. Just ask my friend and colleague, Patricia Barnes, whom I have the great pleasure of working with in our Open Print Studio. It took Pat about two years to get comfortable and consistent with screen printing, with many fits and starts along the way. Finally, and proudly, Pat submitted her screen print and collage for the Student Show, an entry that was met with oohs, ahs and “how-do-you-do-that?”. Well done, indeed!

This Week in the Studio

This week, I experienced moments of pure happiness while painting; happy with cadmium yellow and making the perfect shade of green, happy pushing paint, happy having time for lose and find myself. Happy. Here’s this week’s progress:

Painted the next layer on the Matisse background in the yellow, orange, green and the black squares and black on the sleeves. Next up: the blue and red in the background, and modify the hands.

For the rondos: Made progress on the pineapple, rabbits, fossil and roughed-in the bees. Next up: refine the bees and honeycomb, finishing touches to the other 3 and begin tackling the romanesque.

Worked on repainting–again–the black grid in the Mondrian background. Added more to the hair, adjusted some of the skin tone. Next up: redefining the background shapes, particularly adding a layer to the blue.

March 11, 2016

The Sometimes Long and Winding Road

“Art results when there is nothing that can be added, but when there is nothing that can be taken away.”

James O. Collins

“Professor MacDonald, how long will this painting take me to do?” Now and then one of my students will ask the “how long” question. I know they are hoping that the answer is going to be “oh, not too long at all!” Instead I tell them about the time, when I was in school for my formal art training, I worked on a drawing assignment that took 16 whole hours to finish. Man, oh man, did I think I was something! Little did I know that was nothing compared to the amount of time I would spend on later work.

That was especially true when I was working in colored pencil, a medium that practically lays down and rolls over for the obsessive artist. I once calculated that I could tear through a colored pencil work at the speedy rate of one inch an hour! Work like Time Traveler, seen here, might take several months to a year to complete, with the finished size measured in inches rather than feet.

In fact the slow methodology of colored pencil made me feel that I couldn’t get my ideas out fast enough and I eventually turned to painting. If I thought I could just hurdle some paint on the canvas and call it a winner, I soon learned otherwise. Most of my paintings still take several months to complete, only now I obsess on a larger scale. Sometimes, there are those magical paintings that take just a day or two, such as Promise, seen here, a 3′ x 4′ landscape of a Texas field. But then, to keep me humble, I’ll go ahead and do something like Bone Breakers, a piece I wrote about in an earlier blog. This painting wonder, 2′ x 3′ in size, took about six months or so to complete.

And what have I learned from all of this? That the creative process, like household renovations, always takes more time than the optimistic artist thinks they will. That the final size of the work really doesn’t matter; small paintings can take just as long as larger ones. That you can’t go against your fabric and if you work slow, then slow is how it is going to go. And of course the most obvious lesson of all, the one I give to my curious student, is that it takes exactly as long as it takes. As artists we work until arriving at that point when neither adding more, nor presenting less, makes a better picture. Sometimes that process is measured in minutes and hours, sometimes in months and years; but we get there in the end, we surely do!

This week in the studio

Continuing to work on a new piece, and hope that by the end of next week I will have something of interest to share. Until then, keeping it a little bit under wraps.

As far as the self-portraits go, I finally figured out why the black paint wasn’t drying. It seems that the masking tape I used to block out the grid actually left behind a gummy residue that when combined with the paint resulted in a non-drying medium. I had to carefully scrape away the grid and am at the repainting stage. In my perfect world I may be almost finished by the end of next week.

Oh seriously, who am I kidding. It will take as long as it takes. In any case, pictures next week!

March 5, 2016

Watch the Birdy!

“Beep, beep.”

The Roadrunner

When I was pulling together the Mixed Media Gallery, I was surprised by the number of times, and the diverse ways, that I have used a particular subject matter. Among the many instances is this mono print, and a three-in-one colored pencil drawing:

Plus, there is this gallery installation, and then this guy shows up in a mixed media piece, and here’s a fellow incised in stone.

Oh, there’s more, lots more. All I can say is, great balls of feathers, I think I’m going to the birds! While I haven’t deliberately set out to be a bird illustrator, (that I will leave to those who follow in the wingspan of John James Audubon), it appears that I have come down with an avian attachment of sorts.

Artists commonly produce multiple works of the same subject matter. Think of the magnificent Georgia O’Keeffe, repeatedly using flowers and bones as subject matter, playing with composition, color and scale, series nested within series. Still, why do artists perseverate on a theme when there’s an infinite number of subjects to tackle, notching each completed image as a tick on a bucket list?

Sometimes the subject is one that resonates on a symbolic level with the artist. So the moon becomes a stand-in for the Feminine Divine and the painter explores several versions of what that might mean. For another, form has a strong pull on the artist’s sensibilities, therefore she completes several drawings on the mutable of clouds to fulfill that urge. Or it can be something more indefinable, such as the quickening “oh my” when encountering the beauty seen in the structure of trees, and there is hunger to capture that time and again.

Keeping that one constant, the repeated image, allows freedom to explore, and the subject, like a music motif, dances, changes, circles back around, spins off into new directions. And so I’ll keep flying with birds, symbols of strength and delicacy, seeing where they take me as I venture into new places in 2016.

Meanwhile, this week in the studio:

I felt very productive as I finished preparing cradled boards for upcoming projects, going so far as to actually apply a cadmium red ground on them. Oh, joy! Oh, red!

As for the self-portraits, they continue to vex as the painted grids remain wet, preventing cleaning up the interior of each rectangle. Perhaps it’s a combination of Mars black with too much oil medium and the cool studio air temps. I’ve decided to set them aside and let time take care of the curing process. But the hats are done! Huzzah for small victories!

February 26, 2016

I, the Juror

Remember that all is opinion.

Marcus Aurelius

Next week I take off my artist beret and replace it with my juror’s cap, as I once again adjudicate the spring exhibit for the Downriver Arts and Craft Guild. I will speak to the assembled membership, offer a quick critique for each of the pieces submitted, (a modest number easily covered in the time span allowed), and select a winner. Over the years, the event has trans-morphed in the Marty Arty Award, no prize money but bragging rights for the year. It’s a fun evening of repartee and storytelling and I enjoy the event immensely.

That’s not normally how things work when serving as a juror, especially when prize money is on the line! As the artist entering the competition has guidelines, oftentimes so does the juror. Sometimes the host organization will request that everyone has at least one piece selected, or cap the number of pieces chosen because of the size of the venue, or limited the number of awards one artist can receive.

Once the parameters are known, selecting the work can begin. I’ve heard it said that picking the strongest and eliminating the weakest is the easy part, and I have found that to be true, more or less. It’s the work that falls into “good” art category that offers the challenge. Among the many things I look for, here are 3 to consider:

Original and creative interpretations of the subject matter, without falling back on gimmicks. When I was member of the Colored Pencil Society of America, one juror summed it up this way: When everyone else is doing cats, you paint the rhino! And please, only use glitter if it is integral to the work.
In one word: Presentation, presentation, presentation. It hard to look at the work if the frame is askew or the picture has fallen down behind the mat. As an artist I’ve done the wham, bam, thank you ma’am approach and more often than not I end up more sorry than pleased. In a related note, I am always appreciative of mastery of media.
I experience a visceral reaction to the work. When work engages me on an emotional level, one that I keep going back to over and over again, I know that’s a keeper. Then I set aside my subjective reaction and concentrate on analyzing which of the principles and elements of design went into the work to make is successful.

Keep this in mind as well. Don’t think too much of whether or not a juror accepts your work; last time I checked we are only imperfect people passing judgment on other imperfect people. Seriously, don’t take any of this too seriously!

Now back on with the artist beret and an update for this week in the studio:

Will this painting never end?? Only 12″ x 12″, this self-portrait, and its companion piece, feels like it is taking FOREVER to complete. Yet, I think I see a light at the end of the paint tunnel and if the Muse is agreeable, I hope to begin the final act: cleaning up the Mondrian inspired background and redefining the hat and shadows therein. Finally, an oiling-out and then off to the photographer for documentation. See, almost done!

Going forward: I am in the process of prepping cradled wood panels for the next painting project, a multi-step procedure that begins with sealing the wood before adding the ground. Since it takes a couple of drying/curing days between every step, this will take a week and a half easily to complete. Stay tuned!