While painting today, the painting I was working on fell off the easel and landed jelly side down. Bummer. Kind of knocked the wind out of my sails.

Thankfully I had a drop-cloth under my easel, well, a drop Twister mat. A Twister mat makes the perfect drop cloth. It’s plastic and it has remarkable paint splatter barrier abilities…I’m not THAT messy, usually it’s just a smidge of paint or once in a while I’ll drop a brush. But a whole painting….? Who does that!?

I called it a day.

…but I know why the term was coined; painting supplies are expensive. Yesterday, I went to Texas Art Supply and spent a huge amount of money on a few items. You have to know why this hurts so much. I am, to put it kindly, very thrifty. Loathe might be a good word to use to describe how I feel about shopping. It’s mostly because the thought of using money to pay for items that will be instantly consumed and/or immediately depreciate in value slightly sickens me. Because of this aversion to shopping, I have developed a few tricks on how to make parting with money less painful. For instance, I am not above “curbside recycling.” Quite a few items in our home have been acquired this way, most just need a thorough cleaning. I also frequent consignment shops, garage sales, estate sales, and re-sale shops. Thrifty.

Art supplies are not created equal. To get a professional quality end product, one must acknowledge that the artist will pay more for higher quality supplies. When I first started painting, Reese and I searched for the cheapest stuff we could buy. But as time has past, and art supplies have diminished, I started replacing my supplies with higher quality items. I noticed a tremendous difference in the experience of painting and the outcome of the work. Instead of a 1.25 ounce of oil paint costing $3, like when we first bought supplies, what I buy now costs $30. Big difference. And instead of being able to buy one get one free for canvases, I’ve fallen in love with painting on linen, for which no such deals exists. Don’t even get me started on the brushes….I still haven’t brought myself to totally go sable, which transcends painting to pure pleasure. The paint just glides on with a sable brush. I check the sale bin every time I go to Texas Art Supply hoping for a mis-marked or discontinued high dollar item. I’m holding out for those sable brushes.

So, though I’m clearly not starving, there has been a noticable shift in my budget. I’ve yet to find good art supplies at a garage sale or consignment shop. Not that I won’t keep looking….

Pepper Ann is a cartoon that we used to watch with our daughters when they were younger. In one episode, Pepper Ann was selected for the “brain” team because of her unusual grasp of modern day trivia. It was kind of like jeopardy, only for middle schoolers and there were teams instead of individual players. So she gets really into the competition, and starts memorizing all kinds of other facts (i.e., history, geography,etc.) for the good of the team. In the final showdown, there is one question about Pepper Ann’s favorite rock band, Flaming Snot. Pepper Ann has re-arranged the files in her brain to make room for geography, and imagines herself desperately searching all the files and boxes in her brain for any or all references to Flaming Snot. “Must–find—Flaming—Snot.”

This is exactly how my brain feels today. I’ve been stuffing it and stuffing it full of art files. But I’m not very organized, apparently in my life as well as my brain. Especially with all this new art knowledge…where can I find the right colors to mix (in my brain), so I don’t feel like I’m re-inventing the wheel every time I paint? Where is that file on proportions? How do I put in that shadow again? Which paintbrush did I use to get that effect?

Correct me if I’m wrong, but I bet people with organized houses and offices also have an organized file system in their brain. When they need a file, it’s right where it should be. I’ll bet people who plot charts and graphs THINK in charts and graphs *all the time.* I’ll venture to say that their closets and underwear drawers (so to speak) are neatly organized. Maybe even their cupboards are alphabetized.

Me, not so much. I have old cardboard boxes in my brain, full of bits and pieces of who knows what. When I need to retrieve new information, none of it has been put in a proper file cabinet and it’s difficult to rummage around the old musty attic. THINK. “Must—–find—glasses.”

“Chad said….
I love your title, by the way. It’s vague enough to mean anything, yet apt for describing views on painting, how to read paintings, or even how to create art. Nice work.”

Chad left this comment on this blog’s May 9th entry. “Finding My Glasses” is the title of my solo exhibit in November. My daughter, Anna, helped come up with the name. It really signifies this new vision I’m discovering through painting, this new way of looking at life. I hope that people will enjoy my “view” through what I put on canvas and that this vision stays unique. (remember, you’re unique just like everybody else) It is a new perspective for me. I’m transforming from one phase of my life (stay at home mom, mostly) to a new phase of being a professional artist. I’m “finding my glasses.”

But that’s not really why Anna suggested the title.

“Sarah said….(my response to Chad)
Also, I spend an inordinate amount of time looking for my glasses. They get in the way, or are uncomfortable, and I take them off and forget where I’ve put them. One day I found them in the refrigerator.”

Just this past week, I “found” my glasses (1) on top of the dryer in the garage (2) in the parking lot at the Museum of Fine Arts Houston (3) on the front lawn of our house at 10 o’clock at night. I had been looking for hours.

Maybe this is just par for the course. All artists have their eccentricities, right?

Before

After

Things I’ve observed while painting today:

1. It’s harder than it looks.

2. I forget that it’s a bit hard.

3. I move around a lot, and walk backwards away from my painting and trip on stuff.

4. I get messy, and have to clean my hands and fingers because…..

5. I use my fingers to paint sometimes.

6. A beer helps me relax and get in the groove.

7. I hate the minutia of details.

8. It’s good to not have distractions.

9. It’s great to be back in my studio.

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It’s been 18 days since my last paint session.”

I know it’s not a sin not to paint, but I feel like this today. That it’s almost somehow wrong for me to have waited so long between painting.

May I be ever faithful in service to the King, whatever He puts before me. Soli Deo Gloria.

Myths are powerful. For instance, it is a myth that Van Gogh never sold a painting in his lifetime….probably perpetuated by starving artists consoling themselves when their work doesn’t sell. Van Gogh did sell work during his lifetime. His brother Theo represented him in Paris and sold several of his paintings.

A few months ago we were in Gremillion Gallery, and for the first time saw works by a wonderful artist, Lionel Kalish. The gallery who-ha we were talking to at the time said that he was an 80 year old man who painted with a magnifying glass because his eyes were so bad. Last night, we went to an opening reception for Lionel Kalish at Gremillion Gallery. Delightfully I got to visit at length with him. He’s not 80, but he is 75. He gave an extensive explanation of his style, technique, his feeling that his art should inspire an emotional response in the viewer…it was awesome. He graciously answered all my questions.

He asked me and my friend, Debra what we did after a while. I replied that I was a new, fledgling artist, at which he immediately replied, “Oh, I’m sorry.” He then asked me to describe my work. This is a toughy for me. How do I describe it? I started with, “It’s nothing like yours. It’s not detailed (his is very detailed), it’s a little messy (his is very neat), representational (his is all from his imagination), sometimes fuzzy (his is focused, for lack of a better word), colorful (his, though colorful, is much more muted than mine), painted in bold strokes (his is very precise). I also mentioned my upcoming solo exhibit. Then an amazing thing happened. He asked me if I would send him an invitation! I couldn’t believe it! I didn’t want to leave to find a pen because it seemed so surreal. When no one in our group had a pen, he himself went over to the guestbook with me following him like a little puppy dog. He found a pen, and carefully wrote his address on a piece of paper for me. And said again, “Please send me an invitation to your exhibit.”

We sat down together for another little visit, and I asked, “So, do you use a magnifying glass when you paint?” Right then and there he said with a sigh, “No, I don’t know why they perpetuate that myth. Thankfully, my eyes still work, and I don’t need a magnifying glass.”

Reese and I had been so amazed at the original telling of this 80 year old man using a magnifying glass to paint, that we had repeated it several times. I came home and told Reese what Lionel had said, that it was a myth, and Reese said that he heard the same gallery who-ha telling someone the same story she told us that same night, not five feet from the truth.

In a previous phase of my life, I was a competitive runner. With running, or at least competitive running, it helps to have a good coach. A good coach takes a no-talent, and by the end of the season, with drills, time, and encouragement has produced a real athlete. I thrived with good coaching. Even after I had my fourth daughter, with a good coach, I was able to run my best college times. (not anymore)

My favorite art coach is Miss Joan. Miss Joan was our family art teacher when we homeschooled our two youngest daughters 5 years back. She invited anyone in the family to join this class geared toward supplementing our education efforts. She was always cheerful and quick to praise. We worked on everything from paper mache to wire art to that mosaic I told you about before.

But seasons of life evolved, and family art lessons went by the wayside. So when Joan called me and told me about this oil painting class she was taking, I said,

“You take the class, and then come here and teach us what you learned.”

This of course was in keeping with how we operated—her teaching the family, and us reveling in her praise. She insisted that I join her.

“I don’t have any paints, or paint brushes…no, you take the class and then come teach us.”

She said that she would loan me everything I needed if I would just come take this one class. How could I resist?

We made arrangements to meet at the class. She said that would let me borrow all her supplies and she promised to stand beside me. But she was late. The teacher, Bruce Williamson, motioned for me to come inside….Which I did. He said to get my palette ready as class was about to begin. But I didn’t have anything. He was in the process of loaning me his supplies Joan arrived. Alleluia!

What they do in class is set up a still life, all the artists gather in a semi-circle, the teacher does a little demonstration, and then says, “Paint.”

Are you kidding me? What?! Art speak is a different language. I had no idea what he was saying. All I heard was, blah blah blahblahblah….(or in Arrested Development, Bob Lob Law) I kept saying, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

That’s not all. At the end of the class guess what happens? Everyone lines up their paintings in the front of the class and the art teacher critiques them!

Talk about nervous. I tried to beg off saying it was just my first painting, and I didn’t want to put it up front. I didn’t want to know what he thought….especially if it was negative. I didn’t want anyone else to see it.

But up front it went. Along with the others in class… When you are at the starting line in a race, you sort of look around and size up the competition. And then you stop, turn inward, and just focus on your own race. Everything else sort of blurs as you concentrate on running your best race. That’s what happened to me that day. First, I looked at all the other paintings in the class, and sized them up, if you will. Then all that blurred as I looked at what I had painted and tried to focus of what I needed to hear about this “race.” Bruce was amazed that I had never painted before. He was not overly effusive in praise, but he definately had no criticism. The other artists in the class were murmuring approval. Joan was grinning, standing in encouragement beside me all the way.

I was near tears when I got home from all the nervous excitement. My adrenaline must have been pumping overtime. Reese saw the painting and about flipped. We went out the next day and he bought all the supplies for me to take the next week’s class, the next starting line in a new race. And who did we “run” into at the art store? Miss Joan, my favorite art coach.

There’s a quote that I thought was attributed to William Turner, the British landscape painter. But I can’t find a source to verify my story anywhere. Whether or not he said it, I have embraced this quote as part of my art doctrine.

“A painting isn’t truly finished until the artist has abandoned it.”

The story I heard, (again I have no proof of this other than a foggy memory) is that William Turner was often not satisfied with his completed paintings. The story goes that he would sneak into the British Museum, paints in hand, and start touching up his own paintings. The British Museum! Can you imagine? A little old man with paints, pallete, and brushes painting right there in the gallery? The guards had to chase him out! (That’s how I heard it)

“Please! No! Wait!…Just a touch of cobalt blue by that tree!”

Did the guards expect him every Friday? Did he wear a disguise? How did he conceal his supplies?

For me it’s not a far stretch. Sometimes I have to live with one of my paintings for a while before I notice something that I am compelled to “tweak.” I’ve dreamed about my paintings….before, during, and after painting them. For the most part, what you see, the photos of the paintings on the website, (or in person) is what I imagined it to look like as a completed painting.

All that said, the painting I worked on last week is finished. However, “Magnolia” has not been abandoned.