Loki, restart

  After starting the first composition of Loki, I just wasn’t feeling it. It seemed like I was just painting a favorite photograph rather than producing art. And so i went back to another image; one that his mom had emailed to me which I thought was a little more compelling. Back to my zooming and cropping and eyes staring at the viewer (or, eye, in this case). I like the paw in the foreground, and the peaceful expression. What is more endearing than a sleepy dog, comfortable in his bed?

One thing that all artists share, I think, is a propensity for avoiding the work. It’s entirely fear-based (“I don’t want to screw it up”), and I’ve been doing it more than usual with this painting. I’m not sure why. Are we ever sure of the inner workings of our deepest, shadowiest subconscious?  

One of the other aspects of painting which I find really interesting (in my own work) is that I often use different techniques each time. With this painting, I am finding that I’m using a dry brush technique. This is normally counter to oil painting, which often consists of big, blobby, wet strokes. I guess I’m so reticent about getting all that blackness right and incorporating the highlights correctly that I am using the brush more like a piece of charcoal, rubbing and smoothing out. My brushes are taking a beating, but I’m comfortably creeping along. In my safety zone. 

I need to paint more boldly. This painting has been commissioned by a woman as a housewarming gift for her husband. It’s hard to be risky with gifts. Especially when they’re moving in a couple of weeks. 

I will be in the studio all day, tomorrow. 

Loki – started?

After doing a photo shoot with a new dog, it sometimes takes me days of scrutinizing photos, zooming and cropping and trying to reframe images through a new angle.  And sometimes, I know as soon as I take the picture.  I can be out with the subject for an hour and then, the 48th click of the camera reveals an image that goes *ding ding ding* and I go home to work with it, a little.  That was pretty much the case with this shoot.

The client  had already determined the size of the canvas, and so I simply went to the studio, put  the sketch down, started on the background, and  – screeeeeeech.  Wait.image

This is a complete departure from the style with which I normally paint – and which drew this client to me, in the first place.  I hate painting heads and shoulders centered on the canvas.  How boring.

This client is an artist’s dream in that she said to me after the photo shoot “Surprise me.  I trust your vision, so go with whatever image inspires you.” I emailed a picture to her of the painting on the easel.  “I don’t know if I like this,” I said.  She agreed that it was quite different from my usual composition, but agreed that it portrays the playful side of him.

I try to focus on painting expressions and sometimes that needs to encompass more of the dog than just the face.  He is an animated dog, and after 45 minutes of squeaking toys and waving treats at him, I got mostly really handsome head shots.  But this image of him with his legs stabilizing his young, athletic body and enthusiastic expression just couldn’t be ignored.  I zoomed in to capture his facial expression.  Meh.  Zooming back out, the image of his whole stature conveyed something that a facial shot didn’t.

I will spend one more day going over the other pictures that I have of Loki, and return to the studio tomorrow to either start a new canvas or proceed with this. Sometimes, the process is as surprising to me as it is to anyone else.

Falling Back into the Work

I don’t like that I basically shut down in the summer, but the upside of it is that come Sept 21st, some internal switch is turned on and I re-emerge, recharged. This Fall has brought an extra bonus – a studio!

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Many months ago, I wrote about how I longed for a bright studio and imagined it with white walls and peeling paint, but weighed it against the benefits of working at home. True to my inability to ever make a decision, I was torn. But when I moved at the end of this summer, I found myself not too far from Mad Oyster Studios and was struck with the realization that a friend had lost her studio mate when he moved out of town. Hey. I don’t think she replaced him. Is that space available? I should ask her. And so I texted her and, after talking with her and getting the OK from the others who share the space, and meeting the head of the studios, and paying my first month’s rent, I was handed keys. Turns out that, as a painting space, home has nothing over the studio. And so we (Rupert and I) get up in the morning and I make coffee and get dressed and we walk to the studio, where I work – undistracted – for a couple of hours while he naps. I am looking forward to putting on my turtlenecks and scarves and crunching through leaves on our way to the studio. I hope for another snowy winter, and when the mayor asks us to stay off the roads and I cannot go to my walking clients, I will bundle up and walk gleefully to the studio, where we can stay for hours, stepping out only to grab a coffee or a meal to refuel for more painting.  And next summer, when it’s too hot to paint, I will simply head to studio, turn on the AC, and work to my cool heart’s content.

Having a dedicated space for working is all I thought it would be. Happy Fall!

Kimbo, almost done

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Flesh tones on the face just need to be completed, with the correct highlights and shading, and I’ll probably add  a nostril piercing.

I had envisioned more of a gritty look to this, and may play with some harsher brush strokes to better portray the mood, but we’ll see what happens.  What I find really interesting is that her expression is somewhat ambiguous.  What is it?

Addie, finished

 Swiping the fine line of a whisker over a cheek already finished with many oily colors, carefully chosen and blended, instills fear in my heart. If I was working in smaller sizes, no big deal. But whiskers on faces of this size can be six inches or more, and that’s a lot of distance to cover for a perfect arch in a consistently fine line. So, I like to let the paintings dry before I add the whiskers, if I can.  Addie lives locally, and her mom is an agreeable sort, so I was happy that was an option.  I adore Addie. She has a young spirit of fun and I think this expression is a good capture of her personality. The thing is, I really wasn’t pleased with my work, on this. I sent it home to dry with a bit of a wince and a promise that I’d pick it up in several months, to complete.  But, you know, now that the whiskers are on (and I added a few freckles and darkened the left muzzle shadow a smidgen), I like it. I actually retouched a lot of different areas (is it possible for an artist to receive a painting back and, being up close and personal with it once again, not see areas that require fussing?), but not enough to really be noticeable on their own; just enough that it seemed to add a certain dimension to the overall painting that I didn’t see, before. Maybe it’s just me. Maybe it’s just time. But I’m glad that Addie is finally done.

Captain Derp

 

100_8016Jasper is a friend’s Swissy, and she has a knack for capturing his funniest expressions.  As the painting becomes more defined, his eyes will become more buggy and the tooth caught in his lip will be more visible. As it is now, there’s a lot of black on his muzzle and chin, which is the darker pigment of his skin — much of which will become covered with white hair.

Kimbo, some progress

100_7935I have made some progress on this, in the spaces around commissions.  There is actually more depth to this in person than my camera has managed to capture.  Perhaps one day I’ll learn to properly photograph my work.

 

I think the anger and the pride are starting to come through.  On this day, the wake of the verdict that there will be no trial for a white cop in Ferguson who shot and killed an unarmed black teenager, I think pride in anger is most appropriate.