We’re Not Laughing At Your Art (Ok, We Are)

When a program speaker for my art club had to cancel, I stepped in and did something I have been wanting to do with this group for a long time. Get them to loosen up and laugh. I think that sometimes laughing at your art is a healthy thing to do. I’ll explain soon.

So, I did a program on The Art Of The Continuous Line. Most of the group had not done these before while some had not done them since college classes.

If you need a refresher, continuous line drawings are done exactly as it’s stated. With ONE continuous line as I did with the orchid drawing seen here. You don’t lift your pen, pencil, charcoal… whatever you’re using… from your drawing surface. This is also often called contour line drawing. Slow and steady. At this point, no laughing at your art is happening.

Then there are Continuous Line Exercises! These are often done as “timed” (I like two to three minutes) or blind… not looking at your drawing surface. Which is extremely hard to do. Most people have to peek, more than once, to see where they are on the paper.

Here’s the kicker. I made the club members do BOTH at the SAME TIME. Timed and blind. (I lovingly call it drunk drawing.) I also had them doing these using each other as the subject. It was so much fun. The results were so funny. I don’t think I’ve heard this group do this much laughing in years.

As I told them. We were there to “loosen up, laugh, and learn”. We did all three. I assured them, “we aren’t laughing at your art, we are laughing with your art. It probably only makes sense to me.

I have since done this program for another group and will be teaching workshops on taking these exercises to the next level with mixed media techniques. Maybe you, the reader, will give it a try wherever you are.

Just be sure to do it with a friend. After all, laughter is good for the soul. So is laughing at your art (from time to time).

P.S. I peeked on this one.

Art: Teaching SOME Of What You Know

Many people who teach art hold degrees that they earned through four or more years of extensive study at a university.

Then there’s people like me.

I have no degree in art. I am a graduate of the “university of self learning”. (Actually, I have not graduated from that one either. I feel like every day is an opportunity to learn more.) I’m not alone.

I can say with certainty that there are so many fabulous artists who are products of this kind of university. Like them, I’ve spent thousands of hours in self study and have spent large amounts of dollars taking on-line classes with established artists to learn what I know. I may not be an expert, but I do know a lot about the creation of art. Enough about it that I am in a gallery selling my artwork. (Which may or may not be an indicator of what the public thinks is art. I’m laughing here… join in.)

So, several months ago, I decided that I needed to take the plunge and start teaching classes/workshops at the gallery (where my studio is). The gallery Board was pushing us to come up with classes for the “classroom” and several artists were taking the plunge. For a long time, I resisted. I felt like if I taught people what I do… why would they buy my work?

However, after much thought, I decided that the solution for me was to teach, but NOT teach the medium or techniques for the art that I sell there. I would, instead, teach other art stuff. Things I still like to do (mostly at home) when I just want to put down the oils, the cold wax, the palette knives and play with acrylics, mark making tools, collage, pastels, charcoal, etc. etc.

I would teach mixed media techniques! I would make it fun! I would make it interesting! I would make a little more money! I would feel the anxiety of throwing a party and then nobody showing up! (Ok, that hasn’t happened…. yet.)

So, along with continuing my almost daily painting practice and my self continuing education, I am teaching art classes and doing workshops. Come to find out, I really enjoy sharing what I know.

Ok, SOME of what I know. I’m not ready to “tell all”.

En Plein Aire: When Nature Calls cont.

Part Two

I did it. I participated in my first En Plein Aire event. Not, the monthly get out and paint with others get together which I had been dodging until the days get cooler. No, this was an all day event.

Forget easing in. No…. I went all in. I would seize the day! Until it seized me.

I had my faithful cart (from Academy Sports) carefully loaded with what I thought I would need to survive a hot Texas day at the local nature preserve. I had a small ice chest with a little ice, fortified water, paper towels, cooling cloths, snacks (packaged for a toddler because that was the only thing I could find with sliced apples), hat, a small folding chair (golf spectator type), my pochade box with paints, the tripod for the pochade, bug spray, portable battery for my cell phone (yep!), and numerous other small items in a tote that I always carry with me whenever I go paint.

I left the wine, boom box, portable fan, and pack of Depends at home. Didn’t want people to realize it was my first time en plein aire that wasn’t in my backyard. I did however, bring my “square” card reader… just in case someone walking by couldn’t live without whatever I wound up painting. You know, just practicing positive thinking.

I got there, signed in, picked up my info and goodie bag and headed for the trail along with several others. Luckily for me, my friend Beth had arrived at the same time. Beth volunteers at this nature preserve, so I hooked up with her. She knew where all the best shaded areas were.

After a few minutes of walking, we had arrived and I was ready to get at it! My pochade box, however, was not. It got into a fight with my tripod. Took me about ten minutes to get them to make up and work together. Easy snap on feature, my arse.

Once that was worked out. I could enjoy the day. I was a plein aire painter! Nature sang it’s song through the trees, the birds, the grasses. I was loving it. The heat would be ignored. The bugs dropping from the trees would be ignored. I wasn’t new to tuning things out, I have …

Surprise!

Did I mention that we were there during the annual Dinosaur exhibit at the preserve? Moving, life size dinosaurs. There was one right behind us. I knew it was there, how could you miss seeing it? Lovely fellow. However, it was… vocal. Roared a lot. Must have been an art critic at one time.

Then came all the parents with their kids. Kids who were there to see, squeal, cry like they were being forced to sit with Santa, and to roar back at the dinosaurs. Isn’t plein aire painting great!!

Stay tuned for Part Three. Or not.

People Watching Is Like Bird Watching

The gallery where I have my studio is a co-op and one of the requirements of being in a cooperative art gallery is that you have to work there a few times a month. So, (in addition to time spent in the studio) I get a lot of opportunities for people watching… and unintentional eavesdropping. Ok, sometimes it’s not unintentional. I am, by nature, both creative and curious.

I have to admit, I do like to people watch while working at the gallery. It’s kind of like birdwatching in your backyard. Like the birds, some arrive by themselves, some with their mates, some in groups. Some come in with their young in tow. You can hear soft twittering to loud cawing. Some are from the area and others are just passing through.

Watching and listening tells me a lot about our visitor. For example, those who know their stuff from those who, in a word, don’t. Those that don’t know their stuff try really hard to get attention. They strut, they flap a bit, they make a lot of noise while they tilt their heads back and forth surveying the art… all while trying to impress whoever is closest. “Look at the definitive aspects of the piece in how it’s being interpreted.” WHAT?? Yes, that circle is interpreted very circular and that square is very square. And just so you know, I would never embarrass anyone by saying something. Unless asked. Even then, I am gentle as I explain what I know about the artist, their artwork, and their technique.

Or I totally agree with them. Saves time.

Like birds to my yard, some of their songs can be irritating at times. Such as: “these look like a little kid did them”. NOT A CHANCE, LADY! Ok, it might look simple, but it’s a developed technique, and a kid couldn’t do it. (Unless the little kid is an art savant… and they do exist, but not at our gallery. We wouldn’t want the competition.) Or the songs can be quite enjoyable, “I just LOVE how this was done. I just want to step into the scene” YES! That’s what the artist hopes you’ll feel. Or even songs that are sweetly amusing. Such as “Look how realistic this is! It’s amazing!” WELL, Sir, that’s a photograph in a frame.

So, as artists, we just smile and enjoy the sighting. An art critic now might become an art collector in the future. We definitely want the bird to come back. So we do our best to encourage and not discourage… unless they are an absolute looney bird.

Now… back to bird watching (I mean people watching) the visitors in the gallery. Like the birds that come to my backyard, I appreciate all the visitors that stop in. Okay, some more than others. What is important is that each is special and unique in their plumage and by their nature. Also, each comment or encounter can lead to one of the following: 1) a private laugh shared with another artist as we roll our eyes, 2) a teachable moment with someone who is truly interested to know more, or 3) an enjoyable conversation with someone who happens to really connect with a piece in the gallery.

Watching and listening. Whether it’s people or birds, it makes time spent around them much more enjoyable. Most of the time.

When Dragons Fly: The Symbolism of Dragonflies

Dragonflies. Colorful, delicate, fierce creatures. I love seeing them around my backyard. I mentioned in a prior post that I had one that used to watch me and appear to intently listen to my attempt at conversation with it.

As with many other creatures, different cultures have given the dragonfly attributes and characteristics that are symbolic with much meaning. Attributes and characteristics you won’t find in any natural science books.

The iridescence of it’s body and wings as it moves in the light causes changes to it’s colors. This ability to change and reflect the light is seen as showing us we have the ability to be adaptable, creative, and inspired. We have it within ourselves to end our self doubt and to open up to new thoughts, new ideas, new possibilities. To let ourselves shine.

In most parts of the world, dragonflies represent transformation, the ability to change one’s self. They are seen as a symbol of maturity of the mind and emotions. The dragonfly reminds us that age and wisdom give us the ability to transform. To be better.

In some Native American cultures, dragonflies have long been seen as a symbol of spring, rebirth, and renewal. They were also portrayed as the keeper of dreams to remind us, through our dreams, that we have the power within ourselves to achieve our goals. To dream of one is also interpreted to mean that change is coming.

To the ancient Celts, dragonflies were truly magical beings. To have one cross your path was a reminder to live life to the fullest, overcome fear, and let the light transform you.

The next time you encounter a dragonfly, maybe you will see more than just a “mosquito-eater”. Let it remind you that you have the power to change what might need to be changed. To see yourself in a new, positive light.

See the dragonfly, be the dragonfly. (Ok, that was corny. Bye.)

When Dragons Fly: The Magic of Dragonflies

Dragons have been a subject (or background) for a lot of fabulous artwork around the world for centuries. The image of one, in all types of forms, has a huge fanbase. I must admit, there is something awesome about how they are often portrayed.

Dragons may not exist, but dragonflies do. Thank goodness they’re small. A gigantic, dragon sized one, would scare the bejeezus out of me. They might not breath fire, but their mouths are killing machines… mostly to mosquitoes and biting flies. (Thank goodness.)

Oil and cold wax original painting

Being what they are, the size they are, and all the lovely colors they come in, I have a great affection for dragonflies. The delicate, intricately veined, often shimmery wings of these magnificent creatures are a work of art in themselves.

Last summer, one in particular loved to sit on the plant hanger and watch me. I would talk to it and, like a dog, it would tilt it’s head from side to side as I talked. I like to believe it was trying to understand what I was communicating and not sizing up it’s chances of getting a piece of me.

Like dragons, these little garden visitor “flying dragons” are a popular subject for artists, me included. Like artworks of dragons, artists have been capturing the beauty of dragonflies in many different forms from realistic to abstract from countries all around the world. For a very long time. Google dragonfly art and you’ll see what I mean.

I look forward to seeing them return to the backyard.

Magic of the Moon: Moon Glow

Once again, I was back to my favorite oils, cold wax, and palette knives. I sort of based Moon Glow on a previous painting that had sold back in June. Though I made several changes to the scene, the colors used are pretty much the same as the earlier painting. I don’t know about you, but I love pthalo blue for night scenes.

I have to say… I really like how this one turned out. If I were a wolf, I would probably live around here so I could howl at the moon every night. Fauna, flora, people, (even mythical creatures) are affected by the magic of the moon. Artists and authors often paint and write with the moon as part of the visual or verbal story.

So, what’s the story here?

As the viewer, you get to decide. Are you out on a night hike and discover the magic of the moon on the water? Are you dreaming of a moonlight encounter? Are you looking through the eyes of a bird flying through the night sky? Make it your story.

For me, as it developed, I see myself standing on the side of a small hill, experiencing the calming effect of a moonlit sky on the landscape below. I am bathing in the moon’s glow. I am feeling at peace with my surroundings. In the distance, I hear an owl calling out.

The magic of the moon is calling… can you hear it?

Magic of the Moon: Canyon Moon

Well, here we go again. I had been on a moon kick… sort of still am… because moons are magical! I will always find time to paint something with a moon in it.

So…. this painting got it’s start when I met up with some artistic friends. I had brought some slow drying acrylics (Golden, if you’re curious) because I didn’t want to mess with wax and oils that morning. Anyway, I got to thinking about 1) some images I had seen of canyons and towering rock formations as well as 2) using a touch of reds in cloud paintings which I had seen another painter do to their clouds. So…. I decided to see what I could come up with using a limited palette and (eek!) brushes. It was just playtime but I kind of liked the final result which happened several days later when I continued to play with it some more.

Magic of the Moon: Canyon Moon is how I envisioned how it might appear if I was standing somewhere at the base of a canyon looking up at the moon shining down. There are probably hundreds of paintings based on this premise or actual photos/renditions of a real place. Anyway… since I wanted to have some red in the sky, I painted the canyon walls using both reds and blues. The base of the canyon looked too empty, so after some debate with myself, (water? trees? water and trees? campsite?) I decided to just add the trees.

I like to imagine that somewhere in those trees, a wolf is getting ready to emerge and sing his night song. His own tribute to the magic of the moon.

Wishes In The Wind

One of the many things from my childhood that makes me smile are the memories of picking dandelions that had gone to seed. What a joy it was to pick them, blow, and make wishes in the wind.

Seems easy, but there was a learning curve to it. Blow too hard and the fluffy head of seeds exploded. Blow just right, with pursed lips, and the seeds gently lifted into the air and rose higher and higher with the currents. Blow into the wind and you wound up with seeds in your hair, your mouth, your nose. Not fun.

Making your wish prior to sending them airborne was the ultimate thrill. You just never knew if a seed would carry that wish to the right “unknown” whereby the wish would be granted.

Many a race was run as I would try to be the first to get to a ripe dandelion before friends got there. And many a near fight would take place when, before I could make that wish-filled blow, someone next to me would blow first! Little heathens. There are unwritten rules for making dandelion wishes.

I still enjoy watching a child following the ages old tradition of picking one of these magical weeds and making a wish prior to blowing it into the air. Sharing that moment with a child is even better. The younger they are, the more magical the moment is.

However, if the magical, wish inducing, dandelion being blown into the air was found in my yard… then I really hope the wind is blowing away from my lawn.

Those things grow, you know… like weeds!

Happy New Year! Art Resolutions for 2020

If you know me, I don’t make new year resolutions. They irritate me.

Life coaches and others say they are good for you and should be attainable over the year. I say they’re good for about a week or two… they are rarely attainable (because for some weird reason we feel the need for them to be grand and life changing)… and they irritate me.

However, if I were to make some “art” resolutions for 2020 they would most likely be this:

Stop letting details get in the way. I’ve been striving for the past year to be more expressive. Loosening up is hard for me… but I’m getting there. Especially since I started using (almost exclusively) painting knives. Wonderful tools. And if you drop one on your foot… no blood. Just paint. Though you do swear like you’ve been stabbed.

Squint more. I try hard not to squint because it leads to wrinkles. However, as artists know, squinting makes the details go away… which leads to a more loose, expressive painting.

Invest in better wrinkle filling serums and creams. I will be squinting more this year.

Invest in myself as an artist. Late in 2019, I decided to invest more… a lot more… in myself as an artist. If you stop learning, you stop growing. If you stop growing, you’re art will too. Thank goodness for payment plans.

Believe in myself as an artist. If I don’t believe, no one else will either. I AM an artist. I was juried in to a local gallery which was a big deal for me. I will try harder not to let the doubts creep in about my work.

Put myself “out there”. I plan to set up from time to time in public places and paint. Talk more about what I do. Donate artwork to charity events. Use social media more (sorry Facebook friends… you’re probably tired of me already. HA!) Market myself within my local community and beyond. Maybe people won’t remember my art, but hopefully they will remember me. The lady covered in wrinkle cream.

Declutter my creative space. This will be a 2020 resolution that will be a challenge. My creative space is a mess. Maybe if I squint, I won’t see it. Gonna need a lot of cream.

Happy New Year from me to you!