Skip to main content
A Bit of Promise

When I first started (whatever this is) I explained that I hope to shine some light on the thought and effort that goes into creating a work of art. Too many people have the impression that artists are geniuses or magicians -- that one simply stands before a piece of paper, a canvas, a block of wood, a piece of stone, a lump of clay, and just goes at it like one possessed. And ta-dah, it appears before your eyes. Really, it isn't like that at all.

I have heard artists speak flippantly about their work, "Oh it's nothing. It just took me a couple of hours (blah, blah, blah)." The worst offenders. Why would you devalue what you do? I want to say to them, "If you did THAT in a couple of hours, perhaps you should be doing MORE."

I certainly do not wish to give anyone the idea that I think I am mastering this. I have spent twenty years practicing what I was trained for: graphic design. My professional experience informs the art I am attempting to create now but in no way does it make me adept at it. I am, in every sense, starting over.

I do think I've demonstrated that painting isn't easy and it takes time. The only way I will get any better at this is to do it. If you are reading, you get to come along with me. It won't always be pretty so it's okay to look away. Really.

Most recent work

The Lilies painting shown above was done over another painting. I do that quite often. Like people, most of my paintings have some history and a few secrets. I think this canvas was a peacock once. Its second life showed promise but I fell under work deadlines and it was put aside. Recently I picked it up again. Thanks to family support, I worked through the weekend until I was satisfied with the direction. I don't think I can be depressed while staring at it. It lifts my spirits somehow. For someone who has battled depression her whole life, this pleases me. If it cheers me up, perhaps it will benefit someone else while hanging on their wall.

Peace out.

Popular posts from this blog

"Practice makes better" is what we tell the five-year-old. When the child is older, I will explain (and repeat) the 10,000-hours-towards-mastery concept. I don't believe in Perfection. Mastery allows for experimentation to continue and recognizes two important things: the time one must invest in order to improve and that failure is a necessary part of achieving success. Portrait painting has been the most difficult thing I've attempted. It's positively baffling to me. I can't work from one photo. Working from life is ideal, but my current subject (my grandmother) is no longer living. A wall of photos of a person from different angles, different decades (like I'm some sort of stalker) is better for me simply because a single photo rarely captures a personality.* I believe a painting of someone can express who a person truly is by combining impressions from many, many moments. *Of course there are master photographers who CAN capture the essence of...
Commissions are interesting endeavors. A bespoke painting often means an artist is asked to create something quite different from their regular body of work. It pushes us a bit outside ourselves. Without fail I find it refreshing and deeply rewarding. Some artists specialize in pet portraits. I enjoy doing figure studies and portraits of people but until now I had not painted anyone's pet. "Gizmo" is the Maltese-Yorkie companion of Katie Ruth Williams. And like many diminutive creatures, his personality can barely be contained. This bite-sized Napoleon strives to rule the household. I can't say how successful he is at that but I do know Gizmo is loved. Such a subject deserves a portrait. I wanted Gizmo's likeness to be larger than life—more than double his size—and grand as an Elvis on velvet. Thanks to snapshots by his adoring family, I had plenty of references from which to work. This piece was pure joy. I look forward to many others. "Gizmo...
Mural, A Celebration of Spring." Macon Terminal Station. 2018 Community grant project. Thoughts on International Women’s Day Last night I watched “This Changes Everything” a documentary about the underrepresentation of women in the filmmaking industry. I was already perturbed about how few of the new art acquisitions for major collections and museums are by women. (It's just 11% of all new acquisitions, in case you were wondering.) The film added to the fire.  “Things are getting better,” I hear people say. But no, they aren’t. Women want to be equally valued and compensated for their work. And in most cases, they simply want to DO THEIR WORK. It isn’t too much to ask. It is literally the bare minimum. Today, someone shared an image of the mural I and community volunteers painted at a bus terminal station. The project was a turning point for me on so many levels. Many things still stand out about that experience, both good and bad. Let’s start with the bad...