If you are anything like me, and I wouldn’t necessarily recommend it, you suddenly find yourself in an artisanal crate, heading south and wishing for air-conditioning. “What just happened here?” you wonder, ducking good intentions and half-assed plans as you careen down an unpaved road labelled great idea.
That has been a good approximation of my life over the last month. There has been one list that I planned, but a completely separate and time-consuming set that I had no idea about. I constantly shift around to address the next thing. I have actually joined a productivity group to help keep me on task! It seems possible that I have taken on too much, but I’m not sure how that could have happened? I’m not even “working” full time. Amid regular staffing of the Pacific Artist’s Co-Op Gallery, training to take over the gallery bookkeeping, Art on the Edge committee work, writing, dog walking, grocery shopping, etc., something else has emerged. I have started a painting series.
As you know, I live along the Oregon coast. I do not have an ocean view (and thus tsunami concerns), so I have to walk a block (so far!) to see the ocean. Typically, the dog and I head down at least once a day. Starting in January, I have been doing a little sketch of the view, as shown in January Strada Challenge post. I enjoyed this so much that I have continued, and sometimes I head down a second time in the course of a day with a quarter sheet of paper and my easel.
These endeavors have come together into a surprising effective body of work.
With this series in hand, I have developed a plan (or something like it). I am the featured artist at the Pacific Artist’s Co-Op Gallery in May. I will get my very own wall for those 31 days. It is not required to have a “show”, but no one will frown if I do. My scheme is to frame eight of my best pieces from the collection above (plus whatever else I do), print a small sign that says: “Tara Choate: Sea & Sky”, print another small sign that explains the process of the paintings, and put out my tiny little pieces of art equipment and journals. I might even make up a postcard and invite people to an “opening” (how does the afternoon of May 3 sound?)
Standing between me and that goal is a bunch of work. Arguably the first step is to finish the paintings.
I have a good friend who often comes plein air painting with me. She is more devoted to the plein air cause than I am, and we have a mild, running disagreement about what constitutes a plein air piece. [Note: Before continuing the discussion, let me state that when painting for a particular competition, both of us follows the rules of that competition.] My interpretation is a piece that is mostly painted without a photo or other reference materials. My friend feels a plein air piece should be completely done on site, with no artificial aids, such as a cell phone to capture a moment or prior sketch to get perspective just right.
All of the pieces I have done on this little project have been done completely outside as of today’s date. I painted them, took them home, and put them in the bin. But that doesn’t mean they are finished. One thing I have learned about my process is that I usually need about five more paint strokes to truly finish a piece. I’ll need to adjust a value, smudge a tree, or hide some little mistake.
In this group of paintings, I see a lot of mid value with some nice whites. I don’t see darks. And that’s what I need to add. Sorry, my friend, I guess these won’t be plein air after all.
In Other News
Since last writing, I have received a contract for my first-in-the-series cozy mystery. After review by a lawyer, I signed it. It is doubtful I will become rich, but it’s a place to start. I don’t know the day it will come out or what the cover will look like. But I have selected a title: Paw Prints on the Ledger.
Until I get the edits done, more information will not be forthcoming. As such, I am spending the majority of my time making the edits my editor suggested. Some of those edits are lengthy and involved, but I am inching closer. I am reluctant to share much about the process, which is different than I imagined it. I am only allowed one exclamation point for every 10,000 words!!!! (I’ll get them in here!!!) No name brands of any kind. I’m having to cut characters to make the story clearer. And my dog jokes don’t seem to be landing (who doesn’t know what pee-mail is?) Still, I think the story will be stronger for all these changes.
Be patient, my friends. There is a lot going on, even if I’m not talking (or writing) about it!