It’s always so nice when a stealth project is finished, and I can reveal everything. I’m just not cut out for secret keeping.

A few weeks ago, one of the work managers (Eric) called me and asked if I would be willing to paint something for a co-worker’s (Sue) retirement. I have stopped taking commissions, but I really like Sue, and so I listened to his idea. He wanted me to do something based the Oregon region she represents for the agency. He suggested one of thsee photos from a frequent partner. I took a look and explained that those were gorgeous photos, and if he wanted something like that, he should contact the photographer and purchase a print. He didn’t think that was right, so I suggested I would like through my own reference photos and come up with some ideas.

Reference Photos

The reference photos can be broadly sorted into three categories.

1. 1. 1. The Painted Hills, which is what Eric thought would be most appropriate.

         

         

         

         
         
      2. The Sky, which is one of the things I love about going over to that region.

         

         

         

         
         
      3. Something from Sue herself.

         

         
         

Sketches

With those ideas sorted, I worked on some small value sketches to show Eric.

The Painted Hills

Region 6 Sky

Silence of a Children’s Moon

In progress

I sent the sketches to Eric. He liked the Painted Hills and didn’t really like either of the other two. So, I sat down and got to work on the technique I had decided to use.

The problem is that once all the paint was out, as usual, I got to playing. So, Region 6 Sky showed up as well as the Painted Hills.

Finished

I asked Eric if either appealed to him, and he switched his vote to Region 6 Sky. I decided to finish both and did “Sky” again with a different technique.

The Painted Hills

Region 6 Sky

Storm Sweeping In

Do you have a favorite? All three feature Sue on her horse, just as an fyi.

Framed

I turned in all three to Eric, and through an office voting process, Region 6 Sky was chosen. I was glad; it was always my favorite (of the ones that had been painted.) Eric took the painting to the framers and then last Tuesday my agency wished Sue farewell.

In place

Sue says she loves it, and I’m happy. It was a fun project. But the most fun was her sending me a photo of the painting in its new home.

Occasionally, when I make a comment about my work, indicating something isn’t right (or just flat-out wrong), my non-art friends will accuse me of being too hard on myself. While there may be some truth to that, I usually find it a perplexing and frustrating comment. [Author’s note: While I’m not advocating tying a schoolchild to a piano bench, where is the harm in pointing out a wrong note or flawed technique? While children need to be supported, they also need to be taught the value of constructing criticism. Or so I would think. I don’t have children, so taking my parenting advise obviously has some flaws.] I’ve written about critiques or critique groups before, but I’m going to go over the process of reviewing a painting that just didn’t turn out.

Last week, during Nora Sherwood‘s excellent drawing and shading class, I created a sketch of my dog, Key, that I liked so much I decided to add color. And then I decided to paint on real watercolor paper, etc.

“Going Gray” – rough study

In order to transfer the image, I added watercolor crayon to a sheet of parchment paper, then used a stylus to go over the original drawing, with the color parchment between the sketch and the watercolor paper. Like a piece of transfer paper, but with a softer edge.

I wanted to keep the dog black and white with just a touch of warmth, like the sketch. And I wanted a warm-colored bed, and I think this ochre fits the bill. But otherwise, it is not really what I wanted. As I have studied the painting over the last week, I think there are two basic flaws.

Flaw 1: Value

The biggest issue around value is the dog’s face. In the painting, it has too much color. In the study, the black tail arrowed up to the white face, emphasizing the theme. In the watercolor, the face is actually quite dark.

The second issue is that the stripes in the original study also lead the eye to the white face. The gestural marks are “read” as gestural, not sloppy.

Flaw 2: Color temperature

I toyed with doing the whole painting in blues and grays. For me, blue is a safety and love color. The white face would lend itself to gray undertones. But I wanted the gray dog temperature to be a nestled in a warm bed. The two sets of colors read as atonal, like a European listening to Japanese music.  It isn’t that traditional Eastern music isn’t nice, it’s just not usually pleasing to an uneducated Western ear.

Because i was working with flat, non-toned charcoal (or possibly water-soluable graphite) in the study, the hints of gold created an overall warm. In the painting, I used a blue-toned charcoal along with a cool blue background; this created a dissonance in the overall work.

I’m not sure about the next steps, if any. But I’m glad I took the time to figure out the problem. Now, if I can just avoid repeating it 100 times.

In other news

In other news, I was sick several days this week (food poisoning, then allergies with a new, old-age bonus of nosebleeds.) As such, I wasn’t feeling inspired in Nora’s final class today. This is a shame, but I’ll try to work hard on value in the future.

The above are doodles I worked on while listening to the class and talking to my friend, Mary Margaret, who again joined me.

I have been very distracted this weekend. To a degree that is unusual for me. While I can’t say my weekends (or life in general) are hyper-focused, I can usually follow a conversation without trouble. But when my friend Mary Margaret came over on Saturday for another zoom drawing class from Nora Sherwood, I honestly had trouble listening to Mary Margaret’s friend updates (you know, how kids, pets, etc. are doing) but I couldn’t following along with Nora. Fortunately, I was at a table with art supplies, so I was able to occupy myself very contentedly. However, I have no idea if this is what Nora recommended I do.

Apparently, we started with shading. This makes sense. The title of the class is “Shading and 3D Form Boot Camp – Graphite”. So some part of me was listening to something.

“Make a scale with eleven squares and mark them 0 through 10. 0 is the white of the paper, ten is as black as you can make it. Then increase (or decrease) progressively.” So, naturally, I made a circle with eight parts.

While everyone else was completing the exercise with various pencil types, I did another scale using just a graphite stick.

Then I decided to do it again with crosshatching.

At some point we must have switched to objects. Unable to follow directions, I hadn’t made a lightbox or brought an egg.

Not an egg, but at least edible.

Following along for the briefest amount of time on the shading lecture.

Obviously, I couldn’t possibly be expected to only do the exercises (even on my non-distracted days, I work too fast for that). So, I brought out some American Easel giveaway panels (from WSO events) and played with a drawing from last month’s class.

Then the dog was just there, waiting to be drawn. And I liked that, so I added some paint.

“Going Gray” – study

I’m pretty excited about this and I’m planning on “really” painting it soon.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll probably say it again. I cannot be left unsupervised with paint. Ultramarine blue (my favorite color) got me this time. I had several small, wrinkled, and generally used up tubes of the cherished color in my stash, so I decided to soak the remaining color out by placing the caps and tubes (not together) in a small glass of water. Then I prepped a sheet of watercolor paper with Halloween webbing and poured the diluted paint mixture over the webbing and on to the paper.

The next morning, of course, I was dying for a look and so lifted up the webbing to inspect the result. Things looked good, but there was so much water still on the paper that I decided to take off the webbing to let it dry. Then I got to wondering… what would happen if I re-used the webbing.

When I pulled the webbing off this one a few hours later, I was pretty pleased. The paper sat drying on the table beside the other. And every time I passed it I thought the same thing: “That’s a flying horse.” This is the same king of thinking that made me paint “I Feel Pretty”; in other words, following this voice has a long, LONG history of getting me into trouble.

So, naturally, I went for it.

Let me state that this is an excellent rendering of a horse head. In fact, cropped it has a lot of potential.

But it’s not what I saw in my head. I got sucked into rendering a proper, proportional horse and forgot what I was seeing. My friend Sandra said, “Try again” but it was a random start. I can’t redo it. I could try, but the confidence of the original idea is gone.

That’s the problem with painting, at least for me. I have an idea, but fully realizing the idea is, at least so far, beyond my grasp. So, I have to pause regularly and say, “Okay, this isn’t the idea, but could it be another idea?”  And repeating this question, I tiptoe toward the finish.

In what seems like a theme, lately, I don’t have huge amounts to report and I’m struggling with exhaustion. It was a long week.

I actually did quite a bit of painting, but I can’t show much of it. It’s a stealth project. But here’s a few tidbits.

Draft horse – white gouache and gel ink on black watercolor paper

Iris – white gouache and gel ink on black watercolor paper

While I had my palette out, working on my stealth project, I started this painting.

In Line – I started this, but I’m not sure I’m committed to finishing it.

So, please forgive yet another short post. Hopefully, I’ll have more projects to report soon.

I don’t know where this weekend went. I mean, it went. I did stuff. But I could use another couple days to get my act together. I suppose it isn’t fair to blame daylight savings time entirely, but it certainly doesn’t help. In the interest of really saving time, this week’s blog will be short and mostly photos.

Saturday, I finished my two-part class with Nora Sherwood. It was a good class and I have some things to work on, but it was great to do this “basics” class and leave with a plan. I also liked that she called my drawing style “sculptural.” A label!

It’s honestly been a very busy week, but only with work stuff. Still, I’m tired and want to take the next few hours to veg. I’ll try to write more next week.

When discussing the issue of illusory superiority, there is an oft-cited study that indicates that ninety-three percent of drivers said they believed they were better-than-average drivers. While the actual numbers can vary depending on the study, the point is that most drivers, factually speaking, overstate their competence.

Me too.

I think I’m ready to admit the truth.

My driving record

My reasons for concluding that I am a-less-than average driver.

1. 2006 – a long story, but through a series of events that was not my fault, my car ended up on fire at the side of the highway (which was my fault)
2. 2008 – fell asleep at the wheel, slow impact rear-ended
3. 2011 – I was rear-ended at about 40 MPG while waiting to make a left-hand turn.
4. 2015 – The great technicolor window incident
5. 2017 – Ruined two tires (probably other incidents… remember one in 2020…)
6. 2021 – The flat tire 
7. 2022 – Yesterday

Where the deer and the elk play (not the Subaru)

Yesterday, after I took a drawing class (more about this later) I decided to run an errand up north in the Pacific City area. It’s a pretty drive at any time of year, and I moseyed up the coast, enjoying the scenery. After my errand, I turned around to come back. It was starting to get dusk and I saw several groups of deer.

Reminding myself to be on the lookout for critters, I continued back home. Then I saw a herd of elk in a large green field.

In the top two photos, do you see that brown area. That’s a little farming road. And it was open from the highway. As I was currently stopped in the middle of the highway, worrying about passing traffic, I decided to nose the car onto the road. A little more… a little more. I stopped when Key started to bark, realizing that the elk weren’t going to let a big car with a barking dog get any closer. I was only about a hundred feet down the road. I was a pretty good road, not too muddy and slick. Not even that narrow. I thought about trying to turn around, but I thought the road wasn’t quite that wide. So, I used the camera to back up the road to the highway.

Now, if you are counting, I’ve done three stupid things to this point: 1) Driving near dark when it’s cold and rainy; 2) Driving my car onto muddy private property to get reference photos of animals which I have already thoroughly documented, and; 3) Trusting the backup camera.

I slowly backed down the road and was about 10 feet from the highway when there was a noise. I looked around and didn’t see I had hit anything, so I backed up a little further. And the Subaru’s left rear tire went into a watery ditch. The car was tilted at around 30 degrees, with the tires showing no sign of being able to grab through the mud, water, and gravel to get us out. It’s not a matter of horsepower, it’s a matter of traction.

I got out my phone, preparing for a stressful wait. No signal. So, I put Key on a leash and clambered out over the passenger side to get out of the car. I walked up the road. No signal. I crossed the highway. There was more signal, but it wouldn’t last long. I would get through to AAA just long enough to tell them who I was and what happened and then the signal would drop. Five minutes later the earth or satellites would rotate enough for me to get a call back and we’d try again. Repeat for about 30 minutes with the tow truck still not dispatched. I was upset, cold, wet, and had a barking, hungry dog. Not my best moment.

But maybe the lesson here is that when you are down, others rise to the occasion. I was floored by the generosity of the people who went by. More than half a dozen people stopped to offer help. I told them I’d be okay and thanked them. But time moved on, and it was raining (snowing) more, and getting darker. Another guy and his buddy asked if I needed help. I said no, but then he said, “I just got this new winch on my Jeep and I’m dying to try it.” I looked at him doubtfully and explained I did want to hurt his car, the farmer’s field, or my car. “I’m a longshoreman,” my hero said (must start getting names…). So… I let him hook us up. I can’t say it was easy, but my hero and his buddy were so careful. And once the car was out, they helped me get back on the highway. They were concerned because I was shivering (thoroughly wet and scared) and followed me back to the city where I had cell service and was able to call AAA to cancel the truck. I love my hero and his friend. Though I don’t know (or more accurately, don’t remember) your name, please accept my cosmic good wishes!

In other news…

Before the transportation meltdown yesterday, I took a drawing class by Nora Sherwood with my friend, Mary Margaret. She came over to the house and we Zoomed the class together. And, really, we were very good about not getting too distracted. (Other than not understanding how many homework assignments we had been given. Weren’t you paying attention, Mary Margaret?)

I have admired Nora Sherwood‘s work for years. I was introduced to her via the Art on the Edge studio tour (did I mention I am in it this year? And that it’s June 15-18!) Mary Margaret and I were walking and she mentioned signing up for another round of classes, and I thought that was a great idea. I signed up as well, and thus our Saturdays are set for a while. We are taking her “Basic Drawing and Pencil Skills” class followed by “Shading and 3D Form Boot Camp – Graphite”.

Nora led us through some basic exercises and understanding. While this might be reasonably termed review for me, it’s review from 34 years ago. I can use it. One thing I’d like to work on is erasing; I have a heavy had when drafting, and I’d like to keep my paper in better condition so paint will go on more evenly.

We started with some basic circle warm-ups.

Next, Nora laid out a series of three cardboard shapes in a variety of relationships, overlapping, beside, etc. Relationships!

We also went onto that beloved drawing basic, blind contour drawing.

We did blind contours as timed exercises.

There were some little lectures or demos, during which I drew various things.

Then we did a session of drawing a bunny from a video.

And finally we draw a photo upside down. Nora gave us a photo, but I didn’t like it. So, I worked on my image for future painting “Emerge”.

Over the next week we have to do daily drawings (6 in all) as well as three specific exercises. I’m excited about the project. I’m also liking being with my friend and having the ability to good off without disrupting the entire class!

This will be a short post, though it has been an eventful week. I just need a little more R&R before returning to another work week.

Pattern Painting

I was in the mood to paint today, but not in the mood to work on a project. I got out one of my favorite exercise books, Drawing in Black and White, and made some marks.

Negative space rocks

I worked on an exercise about triangles next, but it evolved into this.

“Things Just Get Harder”

The combination of the two satisfied my creative itch.

Low tail Key

As I wrote last week, Key went to nosework trial on Saturday. Sunday and Monday we puttered around, getting some walks in, but not really doing much. Monday evening, Key seemed a little lethargic. His nose was work (this is not an actual diagnostic test) and he just looked off. I thought he might have a tummy ache, but when I got up at two in the morning (now Tuesday), he hasn’t joined me in bed. Key was still on the couch and obviously didn’t feel well.

Tuesday morning, I called my vet and grabbed the first available appointment. Then I proceeded to watch my little friend stop eating and drinking. Whe we went on walks, instead of having a nice high tail of interest, he plodded along, ears low. He was definitely sick, but I wasn’t sure with what.

Wednesday afternoon couldn’t arrive too soon, and I ended up being really glad we had made the appointment. He had a high temperature, had lost over four pounds (he weighs 24 pounds normally; now he was weighing less than 20 pounds.) The vets got him some fluids, ran some tests, and sent us home with antibiotics. None of his bloodwork showed anything “wrong”, but he was definitely a sick dog. The vet suspected salmon poisoning (this is not the same as salmonella) and while I can’t imagine where he could have gotten into a fish corpse, the dog will eat anything.

Key at the vets, laying on my coat, not begging for food. Trust me, this is a sick dog.

It’s a few days later, and the antibiotics have done their job. He’s eating and drinking normally, all bodily functions back to normal. And his behavior is what I expect from him.

I’ve since learned that salmon poisoning can be very serious; even deadly. I’m glad I acted quickly to get Key that appointment!

Hives on the feet (really)

Just under two weeks ago I got into some poison oak without knowing it. I don’t remember having poison oak, but I knew I was allergic to it because both my parents were reactive. I did everything I could to stay within the bounds of polite company, but just as the original rash was going away, my body decided to overproduce histamine on a global scale and I developed a secondary rash on my arms, back, and even the bottoms of my feet.

I have a history with allergic reactions. A thing will happen and my body will take the normal response to the next level. After it became clear that we were beyond poison oak, I decided to invest in some benedryl. Happily, as long as I take it every four hours, it seems to be keeping at least some of the itching away. And the rash has to move on eventually, right?

So, with 50% of our little household under the weather, it’s not really too surprising that I didn’t paint up a storm this weekend. Anyway, that’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it.

I did not write my weekly post last week because I was in a deep funk. Work had got me down, the lot in back of me was being developed (bye bye trees), and neither of my paintings had got into the Watercolor Society of Oregon Spring Exhibition. My feelings were hurt

Looking at the list of names as well as the images that have come across my Facebook feed, it looks like a really strong show. I carefully liked all my friends’ paintings (I really am excited for my friends) and reread Ruth Armitage‘s classic essay “Rejected Again, Hooray!” But, honestly, my feelings were hurt.

I think both entries are strong pieces. I like them. Both say something important to me as well as being a technique stretch. I told myself that it’s just one juror’s opinion on the day. 124 artists submitted over 200 paintings; only 80 artists/paintings were accepted. But this makes the third rejection in a row from WSO. My feelings were hurt.

I considered my next steps. Did I want to change direction? No. I’m not sure where I’m going right now, but like the bearing. My feelings were still hurt.

Did I want to disparage juror, Vera Dickerson, and generally rant about the unfairness of it all? Well, maybe a little, but it wasn’t the most attractive option to express the fact that my feelings were hurt.

Did I want to slink into a hole of never again trying anything? To shun “them” before they could shun me? No, and while my feelings were still hurt, I know when I’m close to going over the top. (Don’t laugh so hard.)

Most artists are the kids who loved art class. “What I nice drawing of a fish,” made our little hearts melt. “I like those colors,” just made us use up another crayon. As an adult, going into a workshop can be a challenge because everyone else was that kid as well. You quickly learn that the journey to the top of the class is steep. In a real sense, our little kid selves want nothing more than for the workshop instructor to say, “Everyone look at this nice turkey!”

Art exhibitions (or shows or exhibit or fair) tap into that angst. We put our best paintings forward, hoping that the juror might be someone who says, “Yeah, I get that.” But depending on a laundry list of factors, none of which has to do with the artist, it’s a toss up what might be included or get the dreaded Thank-You-For-Entering letter.

In a real sense, art shows are one of the few places that artists get meaningful validation. When I post something on Facebook, many people click like or comment that it’s pretty, but few really respond. On Season 3, Episode 1 of Grace & Frankie, main character Frankie has an art show. At the end, no paintings have sold, but one woman lingers in front of one of the paintings. Frankie asks why she stays, and the woman responds that it reminds her of something deeply emotional. The anonymous woman then admits she can’t afford the painting. Frankie says, “I think we can make a deal.” That really rings true for me, and I think other artists. We’d rather see a painting go to a good home than get a sale.

When you are rejected from a big, national show, it’s easy to shrug it off; the competition is intense. Not getting into more local shows can really sting. While you console yourself with thoughts about being in good company (your friends who were also rejected), those feelings are still hurt.

Over time, artists have to develop a thick skin. We try techniques that fail. We take paintings to critique groups and hear comments we’d rather not. We enter shows and don’t get in. But with each success, confidence grows. Ruth’s essay is representational of the confidence an artist needs to keep coming back to the blank paper, knowing nothing is guaranteed.

And my feelings are still hurt.

I mulled all this over as I sat down at my workspace again.

Confidence. Authenticity. Expression. Process, not product.  Just a silly show.

Another attempt at “Emerge”. I don’t think this is it, but some interesting things are happening.

Boiler Bay Rocks

All this introspection sounds wonderful, doesn’t it. But what really perked me up was learning on Wednesday that “State of the Nation” won 4th place in the 2023 Making Our Marks 9th Member Only Online Exhibition of the International Society of Experimental Artists (ISEA).

“State of the Nation”

My feelings aren’t so hurt now. Funny how that happens…