” Reverie ” – New Painting

” Reverie ” 9 X 12 oil on Ray Mar Panel

A few months ago, we were treated to a world class concert by musicians Dennis Cahill and Martin Hayes. Fiddle, guitar, Irish Folk and Try To Sit Still music. Hypnotic and contagious, I was taken with Dennis’ focused, calm intensity.

Working from a photograph taken that night by the talented Ted  Davis of D & D Studio, St. Croix, I tried to capture that mood. Thanks Ted.

How it began:

Ted’s photo, my sketch.

I like the unfinished, under worked quality of the piece. As hard as it is sometimes to lay down the first brush stroke, it’s often as hard to know when to lay down the dang brush and call it done.

These characters always know when to call it done. It’s usually after a snack, before a snack, after a walk, before a walk, and when we’re in the bed.

Cloud has her own particular Reverie and it often looks like this:

” Morning Brew ” – Finished Painting

” Morning Brew “ 8 X 10 oil on linen

 

This was the burnt sienna wash shown in the last post.

Here’s what happened with the Elevens recently. My solo show at Bassin Fine Art Gallery, St. Croix, opened on December ELEVENTH. The show closed on January ELEVENTH. And Shazamm, I sold ELEVEN paintings. With great and bowed thanks to collectors, friends, unexpected walk-ins,  architects of secret surprises and other random appreciators. And to the delightful and professional gallery owners who provided a stunning stage for viewers and paintings. Thank you all.

Dick Blick and King of Frame– I hope your operators are standing by, I’ve supplies to replenish.

 

THEY are not standing by………..

Doing what they do best: laying or lying by. Standing is for when there’s food or promises of beach.

Attention humans in need of an exquisite place of your own to lay around in or beach at:

Take a look around Southern Breezes Villa here on St. Croix. Swoon. Then rent it and come for a visit.

1/1/11- Perfect Date For Stick Figure Artists

Maybe not as perfect as 1/11/11 but who could wait?

No fireworks, just our annual blooming starburst cleredenron- Grucci Brothers, pay attention!

We still have to get past Three Kings Day, the various parades, capricious store and business hours due to the whim of the proprietor and then life will settle down to a more predictable rhythm.

For store hour signage- this must surely be an island favorite- from our trusty art supply store:

My solo show is still up at Bassin Fine Art- have sold 7 so far. This one just went yesterday:

Calypso Dancer 16 X20

In between gallery sitting and the holidays, and the desire to do more than stick figures, I started a small 8X10 with a burnt sienna & ultramarine sketch. No title yet- any suggestions?

My resolution? OUT WITH THE NEW, IN WITH THE OLD. That’s right.

I want my old princess phone from 25 years ago, made to outlast generations. I’m on my third Radio Shack P.O.S ( and it doesn’t stand for Point of Service ) phone in as many months. How do they stop working in 43 days? How do 2 computer mouse (s ) go bad in less than 5 months?

People! Buy ART. It lasts forever!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Happy, Productive, Calamity-less New Year Everyone.

Let’s see if those black eyed peas have some merit.

 

Paintus- Interruptus

I’ve been working on this piece, expecting to have finished it today.

” La Reine Market Seller ” Oil on Panel 11 X 14

Started it with a Burnt Sienna / Ultra Blue wash and a loose drawing with the brush.

I’ve been mesmerized by the works of Joaquin Sorolla and his depictions of his subjects under the hot Madrid sun. This site has a slide show of his complete works.

One should not get so hypnotized by muse or self that one doesn’t pay attention to how one wipes the unwanted paint off a palette knife.

They do not call it a palette Spoon, or a palette Fork, but a palette KNIFE!

Hence, Paintus Interruptus.

When well used, they are more like a Palette Shiv.

This experience must fall under the proverb employed by motorcycle enthusiasts:  ” There are two kinds of riders-those who’ve wiped out and those who haven’t wiped out yet “.

Too bad I didn’t need to add crimson to this piece- I could have had an endless supply. My thumb is in the shop for a few days- enough time to look through more pages of my Sorolla book.

This guy doesn’t have to be concerned about a useless thumb.

And neither does Chili Pepper…..he’s almost flaunting it in my face……

The Goat Man Cometh….almost. A New Painting..almost.

Bigger is better. Oh,  Really?

Remember this guy?

I really liked this subject- thought there was too much to get into an 8 X 10 so I upped my own ante and leaped exponentially into an 18 X 24.

” Win A Goat ”  oil on stretcher canvas 18 X 24- almost finished.

It’s the dangblasted shirt that’s got me vexed, to use a classically Crucian expression. I have to forget that the shirt is white because the brightness of the glare  of full sun is tripping up the value.  This is the first time I’ve worked this size in oil. Large areas without enough detail become flat and have no eye appeal.

Too much detail and the shirt won’t be finished before the goat dies.

Scraped some off, letting it dry out a bit and will finish it if it kills me or the goat and I will go together.

Tropical storm Bonnie blew through here, yes, that’s right, and how much rain did we get? How surprised was I when I went to dump the bird’s water bowl?

Nothing surprises Chili Pepper- he’s the original coolster.

And just because you may have missed her royal peachiness…. Cloud on her divan.

Legs

When seated, they become your lap. As is the case with these women. Taking in the throngs of people at Ag Fair last February and maybe sharing some thoughts about the changes they’ve seen over the years.

Aside from the one hand ( er, claw, ) in dead center, there was no erasing. You could C.S.I this canvas with a team of forensic experts and not find an erasure. Just that hand ( claw ). I didn’t intend for the sketch to : #1 come out so well, and #2 get this detailed. But it wouldn’t stop so neither did I. Getting to the painting phase next.

There are many, many legs here on St.Croix this week. We host the infamous Half Iron Man Triathlon which translates to this: A one and a half mile swim, jump on your bike and ride 50 miles part of which includes a 21 degree incline that goes on interminably, and then run a 13.1 miles. That hill is known as The Beast. I offer my CAR a sports drink when it takes me up that road.

Check out the survivors’ humorous description of this event- ( I suggest you sit down and pour a cold one  first ):

Unbelievably this event is up to 1,300 + entrants. It’s been unusually hot/humid and will make this course more horrific than it already is.

I’ll be folding my legs into lap formation, myself. Running my own game at the easel.

This guy never has to worry if he sprains an ankle during athletic endeavors.

With forgiveness, Pat , really I am so sorry you had to look at this and I know you’re asking yourself why would she even bother with her name and copyright as if someone would want to HAVE this thing!

Chili Peppers’ languid leg layover is one stretch away from careening him off the precipice of his perch. I couldn’t catch him and grab the camera. He remains to all of you, dignified. And aloft.

Back In The Saddle Again – Work In Progress

Moving towards painting without drawing first. Didn’t say how I was progressing in that arena, just hoping that someday I might befriend proportion and scale without drawing first. Until then……

Willow charcoal is loose, ethereal, rubs off if you exhale too close to the canvas. Good for keeping loose, so I purposely remove some line work as the paint goes down or else the dastardly pitfall of filling in can ruin the gesture.

So just as Stella was getting her dormant groove back, I had to leave this piece and be away for a week. I’m going to seriously try not to muck it up since painting on top of already dried paint sometimes leads me to that dreadful trap of adding too much, playing the game of chasing values and almost reproducing an entire second painting over the dried one underneath. I said I’d try.

Please hope I succeed.

Now THEY have succeeded in convincing me that after a week away, walking them would have more merit than watching me twist in the wind figuring this stuff out. ” Oh, just take us for a walk and forget about your whining”……….

You cannot ignore 4 eyes and 4 ears of this magnitude of cuteness and continue your mission.

I tried.

Really, I did.

Trying to ignore them.

I know when I’m done for.

Walking, it is.

I am a sap.

Where Did These Come From? When Did This Start?

Every site, every page, every paid advertisement on every search engine is suggesting another way to ” Lose that belly fat “,  ” 10 tips to a flatter belly “, ” Free, easy rules for a flatter belly”. Does anyone believe this? Like the birds on Hitchcocks’ telephone lines, these ads seem to pop up in one place or another and now that I’m bringing it to your attention, try to avoid seeing one.

And they’re about as free and easy as the Nigerian chain letters.

I actually think a little belly fat makes for a more inspired model to draw from: meet the goat man-

My favorite spot for a little belly fat, actually exists right here:

” I don’t care if your tummy IS a little round, I love you and want you to come out and play with me”

If those ad people want to strike a chord with a burgeoning market, they’d re-address their focus to the world of bloggers and painters who sit most of the day and re word the come-on to read:

” Follow this easy tip for a tiny butt “

Bet they’re reading this now………..

If It’s Not One Thing, It’s Your Mother

She begat me and I became her. As a teen, I resisted, as an adult, I’m honored and hope to fill the toes of her shoes.

Wise, gentle, compassionate, I never heard her yell or be rude. Always makes people feel welcomed and wanted.  And at almost 90,  I still have her in my life. At the prodding of a friend,  I thought I’d try a portrait.

First a rough sketch in willow on linen.

Pre- toned canvas, light sienna wash.

Trying to work out the main features in a general way.

The real mom.

Thought I had a good ride with this one so far and then. Then. It all went south and I think I forgot how to paint. Can you forget? Can you forget how to apply the paint. Seems that’s where much of my angst lies. It’s either too thick, too thin, too muddied, too overdone, or just too wrong.  So this tribute to be is not to be. It’s been duly scraped and scrapped.

But let me paint a portrait of her for you with some of her/my favorite expressions and quotes that I still find myself parroting today.

” I’m too light for heavy work, and too heavy for light work “

” One mother can care for 10 children but 1o children can’t care for one mother “

” When in doubt, DON’T “

” The devil you know is better than the devil you don’t know “

” For a marriage to work, the man should love the woman a drop more than the woman loves the man “.

” A woman needs her own pishka * that no one knows about ( * translation from Yiddish- a private stash of your own money – kept even from your husband )

( Hope my husband isn’t reading the last two but if he is…. Hi Honey!  You know I don’t listen to my mother ).

” After 70 there are only two things a man is looking for in a woman- a nurse or a purse, and I’m not going to be either one ” ( This said after my father died )

And after my  commenting doubtfully on a boyfriend much shorter than I, she added ” laying down, they’re all the same height “.

How can you not love the simple truth and beauty of her take on things!?

She is the source of my inspired love of painting, decorating, and general festooning of anything. She has painted walls, lampshades, shoes, canvases, and toilet seats. The latter with thick applications of acrylic paint in the form of flowers thinking we were all asleep.

Some of ” we ” were not. And sat down. And stood up with the seat still stuck to my sitbones.

But seriously, what am I going to do about getting paint onto canvas without suffering the perpetual ” Scrapenheiser Disorder “? Really. Help.

I’ll ask them, see if anyone here can lend an ear.

Surely someone HERE can lend an ear- just look at them!

What Do We Call This Year?

So we popped corks, watched a ball drop on TV, watched Dick Clark need a chair, heard the fireworks, listened to the conch shell be blown….(it’s a  Caribbean tradition and a sketch being started ), and made the usual hasty boo boos in writing the first checks of the new year.

But we still don’t know what to call it or how to welcome the decade. For the past nine years it’s  been two thousand one, two thousand two,  two thousand nine and now?

Now what is it? Twenty-oh ten? Twenty ten? Two thousand and ten? Two thousand ten? It’s unchartered is what it is. We’ve no precedent for how to say it so maybe it will sort itself out or maybe it will go the way time telling has gone. Pre- digital watch wearers told you the time as ” twenty to two “. Now ask anyone wearing a digital watch what time it is and you’ll be told ” one forty “.  Or if you’re in the company of a military person, you might have to take out your abacus and calculate that oh sixteen thirty means you missed your plane.

Or as Carol has mused over, we could still be using Roman Numerals.

Or just say what my elder friend says with a look of fed up disgust when told that something needing fixing will ” take time “.  ” Crap “, she says, ” I don’t have time for time “.

Well anyway you say it, the new year has trotted in and schlepped along with it, a new decade.

Let’s agree that no matter how we say it, read it, or write it, we’ll all do our part to improve some small acreage of this planet we live on.

Because from her head to her crazy toes, Cloud is making the world a much prettier and sweeter place. Let’s follow her lead.

From top

To Bottom