Trying to NOT spend money, and propelled by the moderate success of cutting Reese’s hair on Sunday, I decided to give it a go on my own head yesterday, with less than illustrious results. When my hair first dried, it looked like the 70’s Dorothy Hamill hair cut, with the exception of an electrical current running through my brain to the tips of my hair….a shorter version, I suppose, of Bozo the clown. I’m not even kidding.

Reese sent this e-mail in reply to my personal cry of dismay.

“Bozo?!? Dorothy Hamill?!? … Not sure which is worse. 🙂

Honey, I don’t care, I ain’t in love with your hair.
And if it all fell out, well, I’d love you anyway.”

When the Amazing Reese got home, he very kindly and gently said,

“It’ll grow out.”

And then, he still called me “Beautiful.”

It’s not unusual for me to dream about what I do. In a previous gardening phase, my dreams were about dirt (really) and the various scientific names of plants. As a runner, the dreams were about the lightness of being and swiftness of foot as I ran favorite paths and trails. When we are in Mexico, I dream in Spanish. As a mediocre beginning student of French, I dreamed in French. But I’ve never had a dream about painting. Well, not exactly, but last night I dreamed about cleaning my paint brushes. What this means subconsciously is anybody’s guess.

Cleaning paint brushes is a major aspect of the day to day life of a painter. A good artist paint brush is an expensive investment. And keeping the brush tip clean is a worthwhile activity. With a lot of trial and error, I’ve figured out a successful system (for me) for cleaning the paint out of the brushes. Maybe it will be helpful for you as well.

To start, (this links to a good article) squeeze as much paint from the brush as possible with a paper towel, working from the metal part that holds the bristles outward.

Then, swish the brush in a jar of Turpenoid, an odorless turpentine, and again wipe with a paper towel.

After most of the paint is removed this way, take a toothbrush and Palmolive (tough on grease, soft on hands) or Dawn dish soap (Dawn takes grease out of your way), and under running water, work the toothbrush (again, in the direction of the bristle) until the soap and water run clear.

After lightly drying the paintbrush, use some Master’s Brush Cleaner to condition the brushes. Swirl the brush in the hard soap, and if needed, reshape the brush before it dries.

It’s important to note that the brushes need to dry laying down on their side.

After drying overnight, the brushes can be placed in a jar type container for storage, with the tips pointing up.

This process is specific for oil paints, though when using acrylics, one need only omit the Turpenoid step.

Here’s hoping for happier dreams tonight, which we will psychoanalyze in the morning.

My mind wanders. Many times over the years, I’ve wondered what it would have been like to name our daughters after flowers. Magnolia, had I been brave enough, would top the list.

Other flower names for our daughters thought of over the years…Daisy, Rose, Violet, Lily, and Camellia. We, of course, would have to have had two more daughters to round out the list.

I’ve never met anyone named Magnolia, have you?

On a hunt for a magnolia blossom for several days, this one was found yesterday (with permission) in a neighbor’s yard at the end of a very long block. By the time the flower and I made it home, we had both wilted from the heat. It was put in a glass of water anyway, but checking on it several times throughout the day, there was no change in perkiness, for me or the flower.

Today, because the little bits of work that happened yesterday were thrown out, Hilary agreed to pose for me again. When I went to the studio to prepare, lo and behold, yesterdays magnolia was in full bloom. Hilary, ever the willing model, bowed out, and I took full advantage of this fading moment of magnolia season.

While painting this first magnolia painting today, I wasn’t wearing my glasses. It’s something that, looking at these photos, is noticeably obvious (to me.) It’s 8″ x 8″, oil on canvas.

Can you see a difference, or is it just me? The one below was painted with the addition of corrective lenses. It’s 9 1/2″ x 9 1/2″, oil on canvas.

(Had the daughters been named after states, they would have been Carolina, Virginia, Georgia, and Tennessee…or maybe, Texas.)

It’s worth repeating that Houston is a wonderful place to live.

This marvelous mosaic is a relatively new addition to Poe Elementary’s campus. With a nod to Edgar Allen Poe, there’s a raven in the tree canopy. (That’s me sitting on the tree branch.)

Els is a friend from the Netherlands. In one of our recent visits, she mentioned that she had some art supplies that she didn’t know how to use. In the last few years as an artist, I’ve learned enough about oil painting to feel confident sharing that knowledge with others. So yesterday, I went to Els’ house, and we had a little art lesson.

Els grabbed some fruit out of the fridge for me to arrange a still life.

An inside out cereal box was used to protect the table under the palette.

Plastic knives were used to mix the paint.

And with just a little instruction in the right direction, Els was on her way to painting her first work in oils. Go Els!

It’s hard to decide when to quit, when to stop working a painting. Maybe this will become a “thing”, maybe it won’t, but I re-worked the Lindsey painting when Lindsey was not here. Basically, I softened the skin tones, corrected the shape of the eyebrow, and worked on the eyes, hair, nose, and lips. OK, I added background color to the wall and futon, too, but that’s it.

Aaaah! Today was the first day EVER a non family member posed for me. It was SO intense an experience…for me, at least. Before kind and gracious Lindsey even got here I was nervous. Nervous excitement is what the Amazing Reese calls it. Whatever, I was about to jump out of my skin.

Gracious Lindsey, even if she wasn’t on the inside, seemed super relaxed, and sat as still as an apple. She was the perfect model.

During a particularly quiet moment in the studio, Lindsey calmly asked if, as an artist, I felt the tug between compulsion and inspiration. It’s a very good question. Am I inspired to paint? Yes. Am I compelled to paint? Yes. Because I’m compelled, sometimes inspiration follows. Sometimes, it doesn’t, but strangely, I’m still compelled to paint. Sometimes, inspiration comes first, and then I’m compelled to do my part until inspiration is satisfied.

For this painting, it wasn’t until the background was added in that the painting started to come together. That green wall in the studio bounces colors around, and suddenly, it became apparent that Lindsey had some of the same green in her skin. Not in real life, her skin doesn’t have green streaks in it, but when the green was added in certain places on her skin, the painting seemed complete. It was a personal revelation.

Next time, I’ll also close the curtain a bit to keep some of the harshness of the sun off the face. Lindsey is naturally softer than I painted her to be. I’m choosing to blame it on the sun.

One thing that keeps going around and around in my mind is how will this project proceed? And how will it end? So far, none of these paintings are the same size. Each portrait subject has demanded different parameters. Not verbally, of course, but each person exudes a different energy if you will, and therefore, up to this point, I’ve used different canvases according to what seemed appropriate at the time.

Does this portrait project require that all the portraits be painted on the same size canvas for the sake of continuity? Technically, “a series” is all painted with continuity in mind. Should I restrict myself artistically? Should I limit myself based on boundaries of canvas size? It’s definitely something to consider.

This afternoon was spent finishing the Erin painting that I started yesterday.

This is also one of those paintings where the eyes look at you no matter where you stand in the room. Try it.

Daughter Erin was in Houston for a quick visit over the weekend. Before she and boyfriend Andrew went back to Austin, she agreed to pose for me. It would have been helpful (for the painting) if we had had more time…but alas, there was exactly 45 minutes to paint before they needed to hit the road.

It would have been great to paint the both of them. It was charmingly prosaic seeing them sitting together, just relaxing.

Based on the last experience, this time I got out the French easel to prop up the canvas, and a small low end table to use for the palette to my right. It was an easier set-up, but still not perfect. Also, the natural light was rather strong.

It would be great to figure some of this out before asking YOU to pose for me.

In preparation for the hope that some day soon regular people will want to sit for a portrait session, I’ve started practicing on family members. Here Hilary poses quietly while I paint a simple, stylized portrait of her.

The work went really quickly. The idea is that if non professional models are to pose for portraits, I need to be able to work faster than I normally do, which also might mean that it will be necessary to perfect a simpler style, hence this portrait.

There are still some kinks to work out as far as studio set up goes. As it was today, Hilary was reclining on the futon in the studio while reading a book. At approximately five feet, I sat across from her. The desk top and palette were to my left which didn’t work well, as I am right handed. The desk top was also at an awkward position for seeing and mixing the colors properly.

This was painted on a yellow primed panel, which is out of the ordinary, considering that I normally paint on linen, and sometimes cotton. Because the easel was also to my left, it was easier to paint this while the panel was propped up on my legs, right above the knee.

Even though it was afternoon when we started, the sun kept dodging in and out of the clouds so that I found myself constantly correcting the shadows on Hilary’s face. Toward the end, I removed most of the shadows to make the painting simpler.

When Hilary saw it, she said, “I have diva hair.”