It's Always Something

   Well, this is my struggle at the moment. There are lots of good reasons to keep this the way it is, both in terms of form and content. But I know it is a little jarring because of the hidden finger. I'm not really sure what to do about this. In every project, there is always something that isn't easy.

    Most of the color you see here is pastel. I don't know much about oil painting, but I am familiar with the direction of "fat over lean" meaning the under layers should remain very thin so that (in an oil painting) the upper layers won't crack as easily. But it also has an application in acrylic paint, because if the paint gets built up in only certain areas (like in trouble spots like this one) the surface becomes uneven because the texture of the canvas gets more filled in in those areas. It happened in the veil painting I finished a little while ago. I don't feel too badly when it does, because I've seen it many times in old master paintings. But still, I'd like to avoid it if I can. So, instead of trying to figure out the solution to this problem with paint, chalk pastels allow me to experiment with fewer risks.

     I guess tomorrow I'll move to a different spot on the canvas and let this sit for a while. 

     Who said working from photos was easy?

    There have been times when tornadoes were a theme in my dreams. They were a big fear of mine when I was a little kid, so I guess it makes sense they would show up in my dreams now and then. I think I mentioned before that I found a little thumbnail like this in an old sketchbook. I suppose I could trace it back and figure out what I was worried about when I drew it. Lots of things worry me now, just not as much in a personal sense as it did in my past. That's why it felt ok to borrow this image from my former self. I'm grateful she jotted it down.

    It's a little rough around the edges (Ha! Literally!), and I still have another element planned.  A hopeful one, as promised. We'll see how it goes.

New one

   Today, I sat through the beginning of the semester meetings. It was not a joy. I suppose public education is suffering everywhere from lack of funds. So even though I'm excited about getting the litho shop set up and sharing what I learned this summer, spending the day hearing from administrators about the state of the university sent me straight to my marimba first and my easel second when I got home. They were both sweet relief.

     After obsessing about strict perspective rules for so long, in this new one I'm easing up a bit and letting my eyeballs do more of the work, rather than my brain. I can tell I'm going to fuss with these lines a few more times before I start adding layers of paint. 

     Even though there is a tornado in this one, I promise there will be a hopeful element as well. I have a feeling we are going to need some of those in the next couple of years.

    This checkerboard pattern has always been really comforting to me. It first struck me when I saw this painting at the Art Institute of Chicago for the first time many years ago. I've used the pattern many, many times. And now, I'm hankering for it again. This one is called "Thanksgiving", by Doris Lee (1935).

Oh boy! More Math!

 

   This is a copy of painting from a few years ago that now belongs to my friend, Olive. I painted it before I wised up about using geometry to divide planes and define forms in perspective more precisely. Every time I go over to her house, a mistake in the arch bothers me. So, I borrowed it back and I'm going to fix it. On the right is the drawing of the alteration that needs to be made. The brown on the upper right is chalk that will help me transfer the corrected arch to the painting. Now all I need to do is match the colors.