In order to pose next to “Reese and Hilary in Galveston” (painted by none other than yours truly) at the opening of the Good Gulf exhibit at the Art Car Museum, the Amazing Reese and I had to get a little creative. Thankfully, artist friends were in abundance at the opening, and Jeanne graciously agreed to take our photo, which turned out great, thank you, Jeanne.

About an hour later, the Art Car Museum folks had us reprise the pose. We were flattered, and crazy enough to oblige.

My friend, Joanne came over to paint with me yesterday. She has painted with acrylics many times, but wanted to brush up on her oil painting skills and asked for a bit of advice. She actually wanted a lesson but I thought that it would be more fun if we panted side by side, and I could give pointers and tips as I remembered them.

Since she’s a former art major, she already know many of the basics of drawing, color, and composition. Apparently painting with acrylics is very different than oils. Much of what I was telling her about the oil painting process was in contrast to how she normally paints.

With oil painting, it’s advisable to start with the darkest color shade first and build toward the lightest color. I tried to emphasize painting color planes versus painting the actual image, though I’m not sure that I explained it well. Except for her signature, Joanne’s finished painting is in the photo below. I’m really proud of the work she did.

Before she came over, I had communicated that we would paint a non fussy still life. We both laughed several times while painting, because the still life absolutely refused to be non fussy. Good grief. Flowers are complicated to paint. Sorry about that, Joanne.

For whatever reason, I was exhausted when she left, and my own painting was as yet unfinished. After a substantial amount of ingested food and an insufficient amount of rest, I got back to work — a full days worth. The last paintbrush was cleaned just before 7pm last night.

This morning, I took a photo of my finished painting and the set up for the still life. (It’s a 16″ x 20″ oil on linen — really quality canvas — I enjoyed painting on this brand. Will go buy some more.) Notice that the lamp (to control the light source) is propped up on four thick art books. See little Skipper resting in his bed. He’s always happiest when he’s close to me.

In other news, the Amazing Reese and I have been married for 26 years today. Happy anniversary, Reese.

Also, this Friday night (October 22nd) is Lawndale Art Center’s retablo exhibit. (See my work here.) And Saturday night (October 23rd) is the opening for the Art Car Museum‘s Good Gulf exhibit. I have a piece in both, plus hope to have something in HCAA’s Greater Houston Open Show — also opening Saturday night. I won’t find out until the last minute on the HCAA show….

After days of languishing in the studio, arranging and re-arranging still lifes, sketching and erasing images, in addition to various other painting related forms of trial and error, I painted The Yellow Plate.

It’s nice to actually accomplish something after lots of nothings.

It’s 12″ x 12″, painted on a cotton canvas.

In preparation for this super busy fall, (between now and the end of November I have 16 different art due dates and events,) I spent the day cleaning and organizing the art studio closet and desk….which wasn’t on today’s list, but as I was moving things around trying to look for something, I bumped into the turpentine which spilled all over some unused canvases and the floor in the closet, and as I was trying to scoot the canvases around to clean the floor, I bumped something else which spilled, and by then it was easier to just take everything out and re-organize and clean the whole closet. I even fixed a broken closet shelf with some epoxy (instead of screws and nails) and consequently got a little loopy from all the fumes, being in an unventilated closet and all. Duh.

Then I spent some time toning a canvas for a particular project that is due in less than two weeks. Toning is when one mixes oil paint and turpentine to paint a thin layer of color on the canvas, (instead of always starting a painting on a white canvas surface.) I used to never do this, and now I almost exclusively do it. It’s a great way to use leftover paint and for whatever reason, psychologically, it’s easier to begin a painting on a toned surface versus the typical white canvas.

Maybe it’s the fumes, because even though I’ve made a dated list of when everything is due and taped it to the mirror in the studio, I’m still a little confused as to what exactly is due when…. What am I forgetting?

For the fourth year in a row, I’m participating in Lawndale Art Center‘s Retablo exhibit. A retablo is a small devotional painting often painted on rectangular sheets of tin. The first year I participated, my offering was specific to the idea of honoring a dead loved one, my gramma Mills. For purely sentimental reasons, it’s probably the only piece of work I’ve done that I really want to buy back. Is it right for the artist to admit this? Probably not.

Basically since last year, I’ve been thinking about how to incorporate the sheet metal that Lawndale provides for the artists’ use in this year’s retablo piece. The work evolved up until the last possible minute, with the photo showing the finished result. Good grief, I spent hours working on this, first painting the portrait, thinking, cutting the sheet metal, sanding the sheet metal, sealing the sheet metal, thinking some more, placing and affixing the heart necklace, painting the edge black, attaching the eye hooks and wire on the back, photographing it, more thinking, and finally naming the piece and delivering it to Lawndale.

Almost as soon as I got home, I thought of another, possibly better name for the piece, and am half tempted to go back to Lawndale and try to re-name it, only as Hilary pointed out, I wrote it on the back in Sharpie. But the look in her eyes does bring to mind Botticelli’s Birth of Venus (aka Aphrodite), gentle, serene, and lovely.

Of august gold-wreathed and beautiful
Aphrodite I shall sing to whose domain
belong the battlements of all sea-loved
Cyprus where, blown by the moist breath
of Zephyros, she was carried over the
waves of the resounding sea on soft foam.
The gold-filleted Horae happily welcomed
her and clothed her with heavenly raiment.

The Amazing Reese came into the art studio yesterday and exclaimed, “Wow. Those are some big @ss scissors!” He promptly went to find the camera to document the work. The scissors have to be big and sturdy. I’m using them to cut through steel sheet metal preparing for Lawndale Art Center‘s Annual Retablo Exhibit and Gala. The due date for the finished work is this Thursday so guess what I’ll be working on all week?

Some of you will remember this Diva Hair painting from a few months back. It’s painted on panel and was specifically cut for the retablo exhibit which specifies a maximum finished work size of 12″ x 14″. Since then, I’ve been thinking and thinking of how to incorporate the metal retablo into the work.

This years retablo offering is still evolving. Quite by accident, I’ve ended up with more than a few tiny steel hearts because of trying to make one perfect heart, which, as we all know, is not possible. One heart led to another, and before I knew it, there were hearts out the wazoo. (not really)

Seeking sympathy for suffering for art’s sake, what I was trying to show in the photo was the bruise on my hand from using those big @ss scissors, though it’s virtually impossible to tell. Looking at the photo now, the old Shakers’ saying comes to mind, “hands to work, hearts to God” — always a good thing to remember, and practice.

When I started working on this portrait commission four or five months ago, it became quickly apparent that whatever I was doing at the time wasn’t working. So, the painting got put aside. Occasionally, I would put the unfinished portrait back on the easel and work on it to no avail. In the meantime, I had started work on a second canvas with similar lackluster results.

In order to give the patron the absolute best service, I began work on a third pose and third portrait. After the third try was successful, and with confidence somewhat restored, I re-started work on the first two attempts at painting this sweet little girl. To my delight, all three paintings are now finished to my satisfaction, this one being the first one started and the last one finished.

My intent all along was to give the patron my very best talent and ability. I never expected this result (three paintings) and hope that this little girl’s grandmother will regard it as part of my artistic expression and creativity combined with diligent hard work. To be fair, the patron is free to choose from all three portraits which one she would like as per our original contract. She is under no obligation to buy all three, though of course, she may, if she so chooses.

In 1892, Renoir was commissioned by the French government to produce a painting for the newly established “Museum of Living Artists” at the Luxembourg Palace. Author Francesca Castellani says that Renoir then went through a period of stylistic indecision, executing no fewer that seven versions of “Girls at the Piano.” The very idea of a commission paralyzed him and made him lose his self confidence.

In a much smaller way, I also experienced a crisis of self doubt while working on my most recent portrait commission. Unlike Renoir’s seven canvases, I only produced three. And though mine were all of the same little girl, they were three different poses. What to do with the other two canvases now that the “Young Girl in Red Cowboy Hat” is finished? Well, re-work them….again. Yesterday and today I worked on this painting for the gazillionth time.

There’s just a little more work to do before the third painting is finished. Or, it may never be finished. Time will tell.

This garage apartment had been used as an artist studio years ago, with the artist creating in and on every square inch of the space; walls, floor, and ceiling, as seen in the photo. My generous neighbor, Fran owns it. Fran and her husband, Larry were some of the first friends we made when we moved to this neighborhood 12-ish years ago. Fran has a swimming pool, and with proper supervision, repeatedly invited our four daughters over to swim. I fully credit any skill our daughters have in the water to Fran’s unfailing generosity.

Fran and I, and a few other neighbors, have been slowly renovating the space with the idea that Fran will be able to rent it out when we’re finished. (By slowly, I mean that because of everyone’s busy schedules, we only work on Thursday mornings.) It’s got loads of potential. So far, in addition to moving old furniture and things out, we’ve been scraping layers of paint from the wood trim, and have been removing old sheetrock and the wallpaper and cheesecloth underneath that. We’re debating whether or not to keep the ceiling as an homage to the former artist, as well as one of the more creative walls.

It’s incredibly satisfying to see the work start to take shape.

Believe it or not, there’s a possibility (probability?) that I may have an art show in this space in the future (before Fran rents it). Maybe.