CD Cover 5 and Chicken Pot Pie

Here, finally, we have a cover that doesn't feature people. The red I painted over the previous three versions of this square looked like the rooster's comb and wattles. I'm surprised at how fierce looking he is. Some of the remaining squares have now got four coats of paint, as I continue to quest for images in them. Four to go. This one is all acrylics.

Today for dinner I made a chicken pot pie. I don't make it with gravy and so on... I start with frozen chopped chicken (I get rotisserie chickens at Costco and cut them up and freeze them for ease of use). Then I made a sauce of white wine, lemon juice and butter. ("Cook with wine - put some in the food, too.") I added a can of cream of celery soup (Campbell's, of course), a cup of cooked, chopped broccoli florets, some garlic, some ricotta cheese, a generous pinch of sage, a dash of onion powder, and baked it in a crust.

Dearest saw the design I cut in it and said it was two canoes pulled up to a dock, and a Mickey Mouse balloon about to float away. Then she gave me her wicked tease smile. Daughter baked Tollhouse cookies from scratch - a staple in this house. We are hardly ever without them. For last night she baked dinner rolls that were beautiful to look at, as buttery as brioche, and as light as croissants. It's good to live here.

CD Cover 4 - and an Award

Not a lot of time today - work, taxes, etc. Dearest did the lion's share of tax prep and Schedule A and the start of the 1040 this year. That helped a lot - probably over half the job, actually. I had to do the self-employment part. My art sales outstripped my consumption of supplies, and I owe Uncle Sam this year. That was kinda fun. Not paying the taxes, but being in a position to have to...

Here is CD Cover 4. He was just there, and I had to bring him forward. Then he wanted no competition, and so the rest was removed and blued out. Plenty of room for a CD title on this one. I think he has a dreamy look, like the young Elvis.

So far people in all the covers.

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The Utah Savage gave me the "Love Ya" Award, and I gratefully accept. Though I'll be my usual perverse self and not pass it on. I can't pick. I'm gradually finding it more difficult to make that sort of judgment. Here is the text, though, that the Utah Savage posted with the award:

"These blogs are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers. Deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award.”

I love lots of ya - and I love ya lots. And I don't wanna pick eight. But I'm happy to get the award. Thanks, lady. And you should check out her blog and her writing (warning, strong emotional content, and strong women appear in her fiction and poetry).

Life Drawing 4

Another life drawing session. We've missed several weeks - it was good to get back to it.

We had an unusually lithe and slender model this evening, with a full head of auburn hair, safety pins in her ears, and a big square tattoo on her beautiful abdomen. I was sorry about the tattoo. She did a number of challenging poses - hard to hold, and hard to draw. She was exceptional, and it was a fascinating evening. She reached and twisted and stood in ways that really set off her tiny waist, long thighs, and thin arms. I wasn't happy with more than two or three of the drawings, but I deeply enjoyed it. This was a five minute pose. 18 x 24 - click for a larger view. It's a lot to get done in five minutes. This was a gorgeous pose, and I'm happy with the drawing.

This pose, though, had me shaking my head. I wasn't sure I should post it, but I decided it's not really that detailed. I was determined to draw exactly what I had before me. While drawing I'm only aware of shapes and contrasting areas of light and dark. It's all about angles and curves and proportions. That's what makes a drawing work, especially if there is any foreshortening in it. But once in a while, usually when the model is moving between poses, and I'm not looking through the artist's lense, I realize that I am gazing upon a nude female - a total stranger except for her first name. Then the pose is taken and I'm instantly back to seeing contours and shapes, not a girl at all. This was a ten minute pose. I was especially fascinated with the tendons in the thighs right before the backs of the knees. They were so sharp and well lit, especially on her left leg.

Tonight I was a bit nervous because I brought one of my watercolor boards. I didn't intend to paint there - I can't paint with other people around (except Oldest - we do art together, so that's OK - but even then we have an understanding that we don't look at each other while we're working). But I did intend to draw on the page while there, then refine the drawing at home, then paint on it after that. And I wasn't sure I could pull of it together on the spot there with so many other people around. So I was edgy.

But it worked out OK, and now I have this to look forward to painting. I captured four poses on this page (19 x 19). One was a reclined pose, with a profile which I captured pretty well - best face I've done in these sessions (I don't usually concentrate on faces - I can get someone to pose for a face, but nudes are harder to come by). But it didn't work in the composition and I erased it completely. That felt weird, and absolutely prodigally free.

CD Cover 3

This lady emerged from the dark colors around her. All watercolor except the two lights in her eyes (tiny touches of white acrylic, gentled with my finger tip - yes, I paint with my fingers as well as with my brush and rags).

So far these are all over the map - each suggesting a different approach, a different style. They all feel familiar, though - mine, not imitations of something or someone else. That pleases me hugely - picture a Cheshire Cat grin on my internal face. I'll be wearing my beret at an extra jaunty angle on my walk with Dearest this afternoon.

>> Appendix de Grenouille <<
Etienne has been working diligently on these petit paintings. He has other work to be doing, and he is wickedly playing hooky (as he says) with these. I look down on them from my spot beside the red lizard, in the midst of the growing Dunny party, and wonder what will be next. Is there perhaps a grenouille in there anywhere?

But if no grenouille emerges, I have scant reason for complaint; Etienne has painted my portrait several times. In one painting I even appear more than once, including as a hill. Not everyone can claim to be a hill - but, then again, perhaps some would prefer not to inspire such a comparison? When you are as small as I, it is flattering to be imagined so large.

CD Cover 2

We watched Juno tonight. There was a lot to like. And it made me feel pretty free. This was the result. CD Cover 2.

CD Giveaway explained here.

CD Cover 1

We try each afternoon to have a few hours of "quiet time" in this house. Dearest is the one who usually arranges it - knowing she needs it in order to be ready for more conversation after mornings that are usually busy with homeschooling, errands, talk around the table after breakfast or lunch... But we really all need it. This is a house full of introverts, and we recharge the deeper part of our internal batteries in quiet - relaxed without having to read or respond to others.

During quiet time today I stopped work long enough to fiddle with the CD Covers; one took shape and finished. I'm having to figure out this scale - it's so different than 19 x 19, a CD cover being less than 5 x 5. Even seeing what's there is different, as I need to respond to shapes ordinarily too small to get my notice.

This is acrylic and ink. There's a tiny bit of neon orange Prismacolor on the right edge of the guy's face and neck. I think there is less than a square inch of watercolor still showing.

This is the first completed piece for the CD Cover Giveaway.

Casualties of Sun - Evidence the Sun is Round

This is the cat benign equivalent of sun stroke. They wander into the edge of a sun beam, their brains are shut down, and they collapse. Over several minutes you can observe their bodies reducing height and increasing breadth, maximizing the square inches exposed to the barrage of photons, and deepening the soporific effect. Only when the sun moves to another position, and sufficient cat surface is in shadow, do they revive, but they're usually dragged back into the sun and the process is repeated.

Notice in this aerial view the circles of light around the square window spots. (Click images for closer view.) This is evidence that the sun is round, and appears in our sky as a disk, not a point. If it were a triangle, this refraction distortion would be a triangle. It's caused by the fact that not all photos are coming past the edge of the window from a single angle - some come from every side of the sun circle and therefore get around the sharp edge of the square, casting this circular spot. If you've noticed the light spots on grass or sidewalk through tree leaves, they also form circles for the same reason, regardless of the odd shapes of the space they shone through between the leaves.

Working today - just took a break to note these interesting scientific phenomena

Those Scraps - a CD Cover Project

When I make 23 x 23 inch squares (for my square format 19 x 19 inch watercolors) I have to tear off a strip about seven or eight inches wide, and about twenty three inches long. I've been accumulating these, because I don't throw out this paper. Sometimes I use it to sample paints and see how they'll behave before I put them on a piece in progress (when I don't want to take too much risk with a painting that's going well).

The other day it came to me that I could do a series of CD covers on these strips. They would be big enough to do three each strip , and three strips would fit, stapled to one of my square boards. So out came Amy Winehouse's Back to Black and I used the lyrics book to trace nine CD cover size squares.

Back from a business trip this evening, and with the stretched paper dried in my absence, I taped them all off, pulled up a mess of Flickr photos for lines and shapes drawn blindly, and played fast and loose with watercolors. Most of these are not likely to look anything like this by the time I get done with them. I plan to toss in acrylics, pencils, ink and anything else that seems right. I'm going to make nine whatevers - responding on this small scale to the things that usually tickle my muse. I don't plan for them to be abstracts - we'll see what emerges.

Then...

I plan to put them all in a post and let people comment. Anyone who wants one can ask. The comments will register the order of the requesters (their place in line). Then the first five requesters will get to pick from the pieces that remain depending on their place in line (first commenter gets to choose from the eight that remain, second commenter gets to choose from the seven that remain, etc.). They'll also need to send me their mailing addresses, of course (via private e-mail, not in the comment), so I can send their choice. In each case I will letter the little piece for a CD cover (tell me what to put on it) or not, as the requester wishes. I'll enjoy seeing what CD you pick for the piece (if you're using it for a CD cover). All pigments and materials are lightfast, so they should be OK even in a car, etc.

The one little twist (maybe you noticed above that the numbers didn't line up) is that I've already decided who gets first choice this time. Lisa of That's Why will get first choice of the nine. (Because she's the one who propelled my blog into it's current larger audience, that's why).

If you've done the math up to this point then you've figured out that I will have three left. I don't want anyone who lined up for the original choices to end up with too few to choose from, hence stopping with the first six (even the last in line will have four to choose from).

After that I'll post the remaining three pieces and anyone who hasn't got one already, if they like any of the remaing three enough to ask, may have it - first request for each of the three will win. Just like the first six, I'll work a CD title into the piece if they wish - or not - their choice.

I'll warn you all ahead of time when (date and time) I plan to post the nine - to prevent anyone who is interested from feeling like they have to hover over my blog to get in line. I'll finish all nine to my satisfaction before the give-away will be announced. I may show the progress of these as I go (or not), but I can't predict if they'll stay recognizable from one post to the next. So if you do want one, try not to fall in love with one during the progressive photos. I can't promise I won't paint it white and start over. Two of these have already shifted to acrylics and over half of those two were covered over...

Work Zone

Work is going to be very heavy, taking up evening and weekend time for a while. I'll get to blogs some - gotta unwind a little before going to sleep every night - but I don't think I'll be posting a lot. It's already been thinner here over the last few weeks.

I'll be back when it settles back down. There's an initial rush before really large projects, and this one is huge and I'm really excited about it. So it's not a bad thing.

Several Thanks - Awards

I was happy to receive two blogging awards recently. My problem is that I dread choosing who does (and who doesn't) get them from me... So I often fail to pass them on. However, both of these were given with no strings attached.

Genie Sea awarded me the "I Love Your Art Blog" award in this post. Genie does her painting digitally for now, and produces inspiring images of great freedom. I'm looking forward to her first efforts with a brush in hand, and enjoying her digital art and inspiring words. She shares from her heart on her blog. I've got more creative blogs to explore as a result of Genie's post.

The Pagan Sphinx gave me the "Creative Blogger Award" in this post. The Pagan Sphinx presides over a blog world of photographs, art, issues of justice and equality. I particularly like the Friday Evening Nudes series and her posts on the controversial art topics, which get some friendly debate going. I'm looking forward to checking out the other winners of this award.

Thanks to you both!

Abstract Landscape

Weeks ago I added some neon orange to this painting (Prismacolors) and then it sat untouched. Yesterday, dealing with stress from work and some disturbing news about my Dad's cancer (spreading again) I got this out and lost myself in the sky. The photo does a terrible job of showing how neon and bright the traces of orange and pink are (running along the horizon line). The colors are clean, bright, pure, and capture some of the joy I feel in sunsets and the hot colors that I want to climb up and follow. I've remarked before that that kind of light in the sky is how I picture heaven.

This is all watercolor except for the neon pencil work.

And after I posted this, while going to link it at Creative Every Day, and while reading Leah's post about muse/inspiration/synchronicity, I looked over at the painting and it all fell together and I wept.

I'm not ready to lose my Dad (how can I ever be ready) - but when I eventually do, I will seek him in that light. It's where I feel we're all going, and he may be heading over that horizon sooner than I want. That's what I blindly painted yesterday and this morning. My wish, my dread, my hope, my fear.

Orange - the color of joy. Purple - the color of grief.

Dunny - Continued

I opened another of my stash.

This one is by Le Doux. He came with a beard disguise (LOL!), that reminded me of the beards from Life of Brian. Actually, maybe he reminds me of the aliens from that same part of the movie...

Foxwood - Finished

OK - here it as as I left it last night. First Youngest told me the lines had to go (he was right). That was work I did yesterday before this photo was taken and posted.

Then Linda suggested that the top wasn't done yet (and I knew that, though I didn't want to think about it yesterday). So I worked up the top quite a bit tonight, and liked it better.

Then I showed it to Dearest and she said that the top and the bottom looked like different paintings. The foxes were more hard edged, and painted in a different manner than the top. And I knew that, too, but was even more resistant to thinking about that, because I had liked how the foxes turned out and I didn't want to mess with them. But it was the usual - they were "precious" and still too outlined. I realized that I really had nothing to lose - they didn't work as they were. So I was at peace about changing them, and knew what to do and thought I could manage it without damaging them.

So here they are repainted somewhat, and blended into the painting. Now they're in the wood, instead of on it. And I like the light on them better in this version. As usual, though, the camera is losing the beautiful rose colors, leaning towards a hotter red and emphasizing the orange. This painting is actually more balanced over the three secondary colors, and a rosy pink, pale blues, and some yellow for emphasis and light. So it's a sort of homage to how I used to feel about the basic Crayola box of eight. The six colors were all equally favorites, and I felt sorry for brown and black.

Maybe you can't see much difference between these two in the photos - and then again, maybe you can... I thought the differences might be interesting to some of you. Click on them to see larger versions.

Thanks to everyone who made the concrete and constructive suggestions, especially Dearest, who made hers after she was pretty much done talking for the day.

Foxwood - Done?

It may be finished. If I do more it won't be anything drastic. Youngest suggested that I lose more of the pencil lines, and it was good advice. I spent half an hour painting out edges, which heightened some of the colors and made the whole painting more fresh.

This went like mad, and it was on my mind all the time, like a background soundtrack or a hum behind everything else. I was playing nine ball with Alex*, and having some great conversation with him and with his wife last night and the painting got louder and louder in my head until I came home and nearly finished it, all in a blur. The other photo here (below) is of my paints laid out before I started. Simple, small palette, with the colors laid out analogously for easy blending. And everything will end up tinted with white, so several spots of white were needed.

These brushes don't have names yet - the whole thing (this last layer of acrylics, that is) was done with the smaller one, which was one of my Nana Emery's brushes. She would have used it for oils, but it was still brand new when it got passed on to me. I was happy using it, producing another painting in the family line.

This reminds me of a wilder incarnation of the same idea that drove Hounds. And I'm reminded, too, of what I like about Fauvism, particularly Andre Derain.

*Alex's Kigoheart recently adorned a t-shirt created to wear for Gaydaze at Disney. Check out Alex's Deviant Art page here.

Foxwood

I'm not sure where this is, but that doesn't matter. Here is the preliminary pencil drawing, after whiting out the parts that needed to be gone.

I knew this piece contained foxes, but I had to look at a lot of fox photos before I could "get" them. I had to both understand fox postures and fox markings, and I had to see where they were. The top center and top left are still unresolved in my mind, but I think I will begin the bottom and right hand side and see what is needed - let the painting grow into the rest, organically.

I'm taking the steps I can take.

The Garden

I've been more enigmatic than usual lately, talking about a garden I can't get into... Linda asked what I was talking about, and I replied to her comment - but I'll repeat it here, with some embellishment, editing, and conclusio and then some:

I am trying to get into my inner world, my heart, to paint what is there without rules like perspective, or gravity. That much I've said before. What I came to feel trying to set up the last painting (the one that is now last night's mess, and was four different drawings, none right) is that I am outside an extremely large garden, with a high wall (no peeking) and I can't get in. Inside is that land without rules, where my inner child can paint. That's my Hundertwasser place, where flies my version of the Twittering Machine, the Jabberwocky, etc. I know I'll get in there, but not how or when, yet. I wasn't content with any of the four drawings because they weren't THERE, and I wasn't interested in painting something else outside the walls. I feel like that's what I've been doing - painting my way closer and closer... Finally I just plunged in and painted, resulting in last night's highly colored mess. I'm not sure this painting is going where I want to go, either, but at least I'm not sure it isn't. And I'd rather move than sit still. The painting Coming Home (above) is like a shadow or hint of the place, and I think it was also part of how I at last arrived at the walls.

I can see the garden walls so clearly I could almost draw them. They are bathed in ruddy end-of-day sunlight (my favorite, the last hour before sunset), and they are of sandstone, almost mauve in color, but enriched and warmed by the gorgeous light. They are about ten feet high, blocks laid on blocks without mortar showing anywhere. They have lots of corners and turns; the outer boundary is an interesting shape. I have not tried to climb them - it doesn't feel like the right thing to do. Ivy and vines festoon the top, but there is no chink or gap or gate anywhere, and I know my inner artist/child has walked miles around this wall without finding a way in. It's beautiful outside the walls, and I know it's even more so inside. I've been there a few times before in dreams. And some songs send me glimpses, too. Like Bruce Cockburn's lyric, "Had another dream about lions at the door; they were not as frightening as they were before."

The last time my inner vision was this clear was shortly after I'd become unblocked, when I found out several things. First, my inner artist doesn't have a beard. I think I already knew that. He had been very still, pale, cold, and not breathing, under a lot of scrub in a hilly place above a sea. At first I tought he was mute beacuse he was so newly awake, and had been like a corpse for so long. But now I realize that he doesn't speak with words - only acts, gestures, and pictures. He's well and quite active now, and I don't usually see him - we're more integrated than that. I'm often looking at things inside me through his (my) eyes. The last time I did actually see him he was on the shore, where the sunlight was incredible, and he was going out sailing every day, alone, out of sight of land, looking for something. Then the paintings started coming more frequently and I lost sight of him.

To sum up: I want to paint from a different part of me - deeper within me. It's a longing and an anticipation and a comfort all at once, to know I'm moving towards this, to want it. And I'm not all that interested in painting anything else, or any other way.

Figure drawing feels like part of this - I don't anticipate that stopping. But I see the figures and even the method of drawing them changing as I explore this.

This is the artistic equivalent of a spirit quest. I'm Pellinore chasing my questing beast. Only it's a place, I think, and my brushes and I will eventually live there.

Someone Else's Art - My Addiction

That title could apply to all kinds of art work - Hundertwasser, Nolde, Klimt, Schielle, Filer, Klee - but no, I'm talking about my first series 5 blind pull Dunny. Today I ran four hours of chauffeur service for various family members (our Wed schedule is tough, and Dearest usually gets to run it, not me) so when I got home I decided I was finally going to treat myself to opening a Dunny (I had four of them in the boxes).

So Youngest and I (he's almost as interested as I am) went to my art table and I took one box out. First we looked at the box, seeing the odds of getting different ones, and trying to decide which ones we might want. This prolonged the anticipation, which is most of the point, to me. Youngest said, "The thing you like the most is the thing I like the least - not knowing which one you'll get!" Then I opened it and was delighted to find it was one of the mystery Dunnies - not shown on the box except in silhouette. It can be distinguished by the little scarf round it's neck. It's called Pierrot, and it's by Devilrobot.

So then Youngest and I looked up the web site for these, and did some research and discovered that this design is selling on e-bay for less than the price new, and people with multiple blind boxes get multiple Pierrots because they are possibly the most common Dunny made, certainly the most common in Series 5. Anecdotes on-line show the chances of getting a Pierrot could be as high as 1 in 3. In the Dunny collecting world they are viewed as something like a plague. I laughed. I like him just fine, and he will go on the shelf with the others and the other oddments that adorn my art table's back fringe.

Odds are good there's another Pierrot in my other three boxes - if so, I promised Youngest he can have it.

The Latest Mess

This is the latest mess (19 x 19, hot press). Abner and I did this as a celebration of his naming, and because I had a hunch that I could not draw my way inside the garden walls. I'd done four separate rounds of drawing, and erased the entire surface all four times. So I just started painting. I finished the first round this evening, and immediately saw all sorts of things that made me get out the white acrylic to erase, and then the neon orange pencil to swipe at it. The image above was between the acrylic and the pencil. Next, the big puffy brush (no name yet) was brought out and lots of water all over with the new luscious rose paint and a little bit of green and ultramarine.

And voila (as Grenouille would say). A mess. But a mess with possibilities and nothing sacred anywhere. ("Precious" as one of my art professors used to call it - the little pretty thing that's too nice to paint over, and so it skews every decision after that - do yourself a favor and paint over it right away, that was his advice. Good advice, generally, in my experience.)

I have no idea what this will become. I'm still trying to get into the garden. (Surely there won't be Mr. MacGregor there, do you think?)

Guilty Musical Pleasures

I may have a painting post later, but right now, while I wait for the big mess to dry, and the brownie to finsh baking downstairs (Daughter cooked and baked), I want to talk about some guilty pleasures. Some stuck up part of me feels like it shouldn't like these things, hence hte title of this post, but I do like them... a lot...

I am stuck on Prince's songs Little Red Corvette (tune AND words), and Raspberry Beret (tune AND words)... I picture them both very long and leggy - not my type, actually.

and Amy Winehouse (just about anything) particularly Back to Black and No Good...

and Avril Lavigne (the brattier the better, it seems) but lately it's The Things I'll Never Say, where I'm fascinated with the words of the refrain because she so freely mixes sweet girly longing and sex...

and P!NK - also nearly anything, but particularly U + Ur Hand and Cuz I Can which have the most attitude...

and Christina Aguilera, the entire Back to Basics album, and for her AND for P!NK I love it when they laugh dubbed over the song...

And I never liked Prince when I was younger. What's with that.

Painting this Weekend

I am trying to get into the garden. I have been all around the west walls on the outside, late afternoon light shining over my shoulder and casting my shadow on the stone. I can't find a way in. I have drawn and totally erased the same 19 x 19 inch square three times in the last two days. I'm on drawing four, and I'm not sure it's going anywhere, either. I've had two paintings I could have done, but they're still outside the garden. And I'm going to get in there. It may take some time, but I know my way all around the edges of this place, and I know it's where I need to go next.

I know what kinds of rules I will shed in the passage, but I still don't know how to get what I want on that page. Lot's of other things happen, but not what I'm really after. I could randomly fill up the page with stuff, but that's not what I crave to put there. I'm holding out for the big thing, the garden, my internal Eden, my Chocolate Room*.

Meanwhile, though, the image I had layered with so much color (to the left) finally yielded part of its content. I discovered this man, looking into the light, hand up as if to knock or to shield his eyes from the brightness. The hand (fist) in the upper left was the giveaway - maybe you can see it in this photo? After several weeks of gazing into this, turning it every way, it was wonderful to get a hint and then to watch it progress. I couldn't understand why he was wearing a suit, though.

I showed several pieces to Dearest today - I was framing Glee 1 and Coming Home to hang at work (they looked great all dressed up), and I showed her the final version of Flight which was almost exactly like the last version I showed over a week ago.

Then, on an impulse, I ran to get this emerging watercolor to show her. She liked it right away and said the man wasn't knocking... "He's more engaged than that." Then after a pause, waiting to see if I got it on my own (nope) she said, "He's conducting."

Wow - so he is. That explains the suit, and, as she added, it also explains the lighting.

So now I wonder what will emerge in the foreground.

This is my first attempt to work with this much pigment and color, chasing a little of Nolde's method. The reality is richer than the photo looks - but also less blue. His jacket is more understated in the original, but that also means the light looks warmer and brighter in the original, as well.

Dearest and I also looked at one of my older pieces (Cliffs and Squalls photo taken behind glass, so you'll have to mentally edit out that white spot in the center!), done back when I was in the gallery, and compared it with the two I was framing today. It looked so light and tentative that it felt unfinished. It's a nice piece, and I like many things about it, but I wish I'd USED MORE PAINT.

This review of pieces, though brief, was good for me, showing a lot of the journey I've taken to this spot outside the garden wall. And it was priceless to get Dearest's insight into The Conductor.

* from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory - the version from the 70's, with Gene Wilder.