The Demo

Drawing is my first love. I so enjoy the connection between paper and mark maker. This past week has been exceptional in the amount of drawing I was able to do. First of all I discovered the deadline for a pencil sketch on a commission piece had passed. So I spent some time looking for the original references and notes which have somehow been temporarily lost with some other items requiring immediate attention. Moving has a tendency to disorganise things. One consolation is that when I find them, they will all be together and I will be able to proceed accordingly. In the meantime. I replaced my misplaced references with less than acceptable standard substitutes and spent the next two days in heaven with a large piece of paper and my 3B pencil. Glorious! The result? I think it is breathtaking; my customer will confirm that this week. Yesterday I taught a workshop on portraits beginning with drawing, charcoal and Stonehenge. Devine! Once everyone was doing well with their own drawings I took five minutes to do mine. I have a lovely daughter and she was irresistibly winsome. Today? It is back to the drawing…. no painting board. I have four paintings to finish in twelve days. Three days each. Ah, yes. Great fun. Be still my anxious nerves! Breathe. Yes, great fun.

Playing Around

One Done

Begin Another

Splish Splash

A major portion of my time is taken up with space gazing. I had just finished placing some pieces of light coloured tissue paper on my new triplet and I stood back to do some space gazing. The spaces in between need darker mixtures of patterning something like the happy accidents I am using on “The Eye of the Needle”. Yes. I gazed at my pile of folded colour. I assessed the area that needed covering on the three canvases. Ah,oh. No. There was definitely a shortage of material. Matching what has previously been done is next to impossible. For one thing I simply do not remember the order of sequence in which I placed the colours in the first batch, nor their intensity. I looked at the pieces carefully, examining the pigments closely to determine the selection of paints I would use. Identifying the colours is not the real problem. I use basically the same colours again and again. It was the sequence that bothered me. I assembled the necessary equipment: four inch house painting brushes, cheap inch bristle brushes, small plastic garbage bags that I have cut open and wrinkled excessively, tissue paper also wrinkled excessively and acrylics that have been liquefied in an abundance of water. The tissue paper becomes the binding for the paint. It would not hold together otherwise because too much water renders the binding in the paint useless. The other problem with matching is that the wrinkling is never the same. A third is the application of the paint is unique as well. A fourth is the quality of tissue paper. I looked at my colours. I was running out of burnt sienna. I meandered over to the shelf where I store those jars and chanced upon a new pigment: burnt orange. Mmmm. Let’s consider the possibilities. Matching is difficult if not impossible. Why match? Delightful shivers ran up and down my spine at the prospect of exploring new possibilities. Fun! Let’s play! Are you with me?

In Progress

Splash

Splash Detail

This has been a very successful day. I stepped into my studio and tuned the radio to my favorite station. As I listened to the strains of violin and piano I removed my newly steeped tissue paper from its plastic mold. Lovely patterns danced before my eyes as I contemplated each piece. Which would adorn the awaiting canvas? I turned and caught sight of the freshly drawn triplet, purple lines against a gold and violet background. Yes. I am making progress. I really like the shapes moving in and out of the texture across the surface. Shapes. The simpler and bigger the better. Shapes, not details, create the foundation for all that matters in a painting: value (dark and light), colour, movement. Where is the light going to be brightest? How will it be balanced? How big, how small? Yes, I like this threesome. I turn my attention to the project at hand and begin ripping odd shapes from the tissue paper pieces. Shapes of sunlight across drooping evergreen branches. The shapes must be irregular. No two things in life are the same. Even identical twins are different in some aspects. Irregularity, that is what appears natural. Straight and geometric shapes are rare in the wild. In my attempts to emulate nature I tend to repeat the same form over and over again in monotonous and boring regularity. As I tear the bits I change direction and still I end up with very similar bumps standing at attention, all in a row. I sigh and remove one or two. I will use the remains later to fill holes or enhance the randomness. Time for tea and a change of pace. I love random creativity. Where did I put that purple watercolour pencil?