It's been ages. I was very discouraged this fall and put my creative energy into other areas, but am returning to work now. I am planning a new painting of a sand dollar, partially submerged in sand. I'm a little concerned about the sand color on top of the sand color of the shell and getting bored, after all it is beige on beige, but it's worth a try. I find that going deeply into detail can supersede any tendency towards boredom. Either that or infuse the picture with unnatural colors, and then you might as well just photoshop it.

No Rope

I am thinking about two disparate things in regards to my work which are actually connected in an odd way, the movie “Dark Knight Rising” and the Olympic games. So how is that? It's about effort and trying, support and no supports, and the subtle ways they can play out in the mind. In Dark Knight, the hero of the story (spoiler alert!) is trying to escape a particular prison by climbing up the insides of a well. He has a safety rope tethered around his waist and when he falls, the rope catches him, keeping him from crashing into the ground. He and the only other person who previously escaped also had support people on the ground, people who care, counsel, feed and encourage him. But the key to escaping is, “No rope.” You must climb up without the tether and really feel the need to make that last final leap or face death. In the Olympic games, our athletes, during the competition are like the hero of Dark Knight; they are alone and they must succeed or fail based on their training, strength, concentration and will power. But they, like our Dark Knight hero, also have support people around them, who helped with the training and and a million other things and that made the trip to the games possible. 

There are decision points in all lives where we have a choice to make about the direction we are going in and an acknowledgment of the sacrifices and work that go into that choice. Often I feel like I am at that point. My gut tells to me to cut back on the hours at my day job and go “No Rope,” a motivator for actually making it in the art world. With “No Rope” we do a lot of things that perhaps we wouldn't have done, make contacts, write letters, get out there more, promote ourselves; whereas if we have a day job, or a significant other to support us, what's the point? But another part of me says that I must be free to do what I love doing and that a market mentality makes it un-fun. I would prefer to make my pictures with an “in the moment” state of mind, not a feverish state of work ethic stress. Maybe that's really the way we should be approaching art and life, in a Zen-like balance with the Universe, letting go of the rope entirely, and just walking forward, unattached to our ambition and egos. So, for now, I am walking a line of compromise, with a question rattling around in my head, “Rope? No rope?”

I have worked some more on various pictures, most notably my series/triptych of three scallop shells. I had simplified the background considerably from where it was originally because I felt it was a distraction to the main subject matter. The eye was just too busy moving around. Now however, I got some feedback that  the background looked like either water or clouds rather than linen, so I'm adding back in details so that it looks more like fabric, but stays in the background where its supposed to. I'm adjusting the values some trying to be careful with “lines” and contrast. It takes some playing around and designing, moving folds around, which I'm still working on. I keep seeing things that just don't work design wise and then I change them. I'm hoping that if it “reads” like fabric, the mind will identify it as such and quickly move to the main subject which is the shell. I am enjoying working with fabric and drapery. There is a challenge in getting white fabric to look like white fabric without it getting too "grey" and boring - washing out the picture - or too blue and oceany. I think I'm leaning towards too blue, but I can glaze in some warm tones after it has dried. Thank heavens for liquin!

-Vicky

 

Here are another picture I've been working on:

It looks really washed out in this photo. The original shell had a million reflections in pale hues of green and pink and yellow. I couldn't resist the challenge! All those reflections! Wow!

These are my scallop shells from whence the title of this blog comes. The idea is that there is a  pebble behind one - can you tell which one? I've worked on it more, so the blue shadows on the linen have changed significantly - fewer confusing conflicting lines, especially the central one. I don't want the shadows to take away from the subject and each piece needs to relate to each other. I'm viewing it as a triptych, but I may have to split them up. A hundred years from now, in some retrospective show, long after I'm dead, someone will find this blog and suddenly get the idea to re-unite them. Assuming much here, aren't I?

I don't know as I will do many more scallop shells! The lines! It gets repetitive. I am leaning more towards pictures of multiple shells together. I would like to to a really big one of a shore with the sand and the shells and some seaweed and some water and add something man made to it, like it had just washed up. I'm thinking about one of those tiny ships in a bottle that you get at touristy junk shops, or a message in a bottle. I get those "really?" look when I mention it. But its like doing lighthouses - the execution will make or break it. It has to be really, really honest and straight to work.

That's enough for now. It's summer and I'm camped out in our one air conditioned room with my laptop, fighting eye strain waiting for the spouse to fix my desktop computer (power supply - it wouldn't turn on, dead like a car in zero degree weather). It's the one with photoshop on it! Need to do some editing and color correcting before I can add stuff to my website.

TTFN,

-Vicky

 I have been busy at work, both the day job and painting and the following is some of my progress:

This is a variation of a previous work, this time with a blue cast. I was really loathe to sell the first one, as it had much sentimental value so I decided to paint another. Can we ever really paint a second of something? The mind works, the hand writes and we grow and change and each creation is unique and different. I like the blue cast to this picture (difficult to see in this image) It originally had many "pencil" lines showing that I liked the effect of, but it looked too unfinished, so I "finished" it by painting it fully. Maybe in another painting I will play with pencil  lines more as a purposeful effect. The next step was that I went through and softened all the edges so the eye would travel better around the picture and each object would have better mass and volume. Then I went and sharpened some selected edges. I've been dickering with it ever since. It is time to turn it to the wall for several weeks and let it percolate.

-Vicky

Now that I have had time to let things percolate, additional thoughts have occurred to me. When I worked in watercolor, I pretty much always worked in series. The first one was what I would label as "journalistic", a frank and realistic exploration of just what was there. The second was where I started to get more excited and playful. I would change up the colors some and really work with the washes and glazes. The third time around I would shift to an alternate version of the number two picture. The best of these versions was generally the second one. There was enough there that was real and enough creative zip that it essentially sang a little better.

I have not yet attempted to do multiples of a particular individual shell painting. In some ways the series is a multiple variation itself exploring a range of ideas. To be practical about it, a watercolor I can do in an afternoon. An oil painting takes multiple sessions and is a much more drawn out process. I have not had the ambition to try a second go at one, or have even thought of it, until now. I know several artists who say that they put everything into that first piece and couldn't do a second one because they have used it all up on the first. I think creating a painting is a process and it evolves over time. There are always decision points and roads not taken.


In regards to my Oyster Shells, I am liking this picture very much, I am pleased. But I do want to see if I can do a shell picture where I push the relationships between the shells further and really get at my original intent, which was the tension and dynamics of what happens when things touch, . . .almost. I want to play with the rhythms and movement within the work, directing the attention of the viewer and in some mysterious way, say more.

-Vicky

Here is the latest phase of my painting. You can see just about nothing of what I've been doing, but it looks better from a distance anyway! You can also see lots of my studio space and get a sense of how large the picture is and the impact that it has. I repainted some of the shadows behind the shells so they are lighter and I'm not sure I like the effect, so I may darken those up again. I have also been glazing in a layer onto the white and gray areas of the interior shells and other areas. It helps with making the interior of the shells seem more opalescent. I need to work on this stage more, but am waiting for some paint to dry before I continue. I find that adding glazes also gives additional depth and allows me to adjust the hue and value of some areas without having to re-paint it completely.
Happy painting!
-Vicky