painting – Woebegone Art

A day of rest

tethered (Except not really rest)

I did it! Yesterday I finished the last of the paintings I was hoping to complete for the upcoming art festival. ‘Tethered,’ the long canvas featuring a guinea fowl holding a death frog balloon is done and I’m very proud of it. As soon as it dries, hopefully tomorrow, I’ll usher it off to the framers with grave import and no small amount of accomplishment.

I realize now that all of the deadlines and working around the clock have helped to keep anxiety at bay in wake of the upcoming showing. Because now that the finish line has been crossed I’ve got a lot of cycles to be able to fill with worry.

I’m one of those people who avoids the things that cause the most pain. I’m not talking about physical pain, really; I am covered with tattoos and have a high threshold. I’m referring to avoiding the spiritual anguish of being vulnerable, going well outside one’s comfort zone, putting oneself in the spotlight.

Today, I feel nervous.

I am still making dolls, which I love. And going over all the logistics required for erecting a booth and showing one’s art, which — if you’ve never done it before — is an awful lot. But in between I’m continually asking myself what I got myself in to.

Hopefully tomorrow I’ll be too busy to worry again.

Last call for paintings

Work in progress: "Tethered," an oil painting featuring a frog balloon and a guinea fowl — Work in progress: “Tethered,” an oil painting featuring a frog balloon and a guinea fowl

I am in the final stretch for finishing paintings to show at the upcoming Festival of the Arts. Although there are still a few weeks until show time, oil painting has its own schedule.

I paint with lots of layers of very thinly-applied color. Each layer requires proper drying time, so that the paint can coalesce and not create gummy or sticky patches. Normally, drying time is not a problem, but up against a deadline I’m counting how many layers I can apply and still make the window. In addition to drying between layers, the finished piece will need to be dry enough to frame, a process which then has its own timeline (two weeks for custom frames).

Luckily, I’ve finished most of the pieces I want to show, including one I just wrapped up yesterday. But the vision that came to me last and strongest I’m still working on. Fingers crossed.

Paintings in progress

Every day, I’m joyfully daubing paint in my studio. So much so, that I have little time to type today. Instead, I’m going to share some paintings I’m currently working on.

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This painting I’m calling “Envy”.” It features the color green, as in green zinnias and a green ladybug. There is some nefarious exchange happening, and I can’t yet tell who is the seducer and who is the seducee, but something is afoot.

13184607_1036764653080025_1574424419_o I just finished this painting, entitled “Promises.” It features a non-plussed monkey in party frock and strewn irises. I keep painting monkeys despite them being a little difficult to portray; the wrong slip of the brush can go silly or cro-magnum. I’m very pleased with how she came out.

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This is the newest painting I’ve undertaken. It’s a long panel, with a semi-abstract background and a guinea fowl with a balloon in the foreground. In the balloon I’m going to depict a blue frog, which in my work has always stood for death/change. I’m really hoping I’ll be able to finish this in time to show at the Festival in June.

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With this piece, I wanted to explore different textures and how they could relate together: depth, the long, sinuous lines of the back leap, the furry continuity of the caterpillar. I like the implied movement happening here. This piece needs a lot of build up to achieve the depths I’m looking for.

13161338_1036765506413273_663393118_o This painting of two very different types of birds communicating had been set aside in favor of commissioned pieces. At some point I had lost the vision for this as a result, but it is coming back to me now. I’m going to be taking it up again this week with renewed fervor. Some of my best pieces have had breaks in the middle, and I’m hoping this results in a strong finish.

Spring

REFLECTION | 2014 | oil on small canvas — REFLECTION |
2014 |
oil on small canvas

Today is the first day of Spring, but in the Portland area it arrived early: yesterday the weather was comfortably in the 60s with lush sunshine and lazy clouds overhead.

Of course, today we woke up to nothing but rain. It is Portland, after all.

But a week of extended daylight hours and the assurance of warmer weather ahead has seemed to soothe frayed nerves like a miracle tonic, and the world appears filled with flowers and a vulnerable optimism. I’ve been taking advantage of the time by spending even more time in my studio. And by painting flowers.

In Springs past over the last few years, I find myself drawn towards depicting the little, quiet things: insects, birds, flowers. As the world begins to come out of an internal hibernation, they often seem to usher in a more subdued, yet infectious jubilation. I watch them, and enjoy the grace in their unfolding: the quiet elegance of their reveal.

Work in progress: oil painting of poppies (first session), March 2016

(All except mice. Mice and rats skeeve me the hell out.)

I’ve started a new painting of poppies that will grow to encompass a spotted towhee bird, modeled after one who visits me just outside my studio window. And I feel like I may have to revisit caterpillars in my work, as caterpillars seem to me such busy, jolly emissaries of the hope of transformation, and the promise of Spring.

But as I mentioned, it’s raining outside this morning. Luckily, rainy days are perfect days to paint.

As close as I’ve come to self portrait

Jean Alphonse Roehn - Portrait of an Artist Painting Her Self Portrait — Jean Alphonse Roehn – Portrait of an Artist Painting Her Self Portrait

I understand that the self portrait is of utmost importance to the artist, but I’ve never done one.

I am one of those people who don’t like to go into salons for hair care, due to the imposed position of staring at oneself, transfixed: a captive audience to self criticism. The notion of combining this agony with my love of painting does not sit with me, no matter the constructive objective. I’d much rather daub in a monkey in my place.

But still, one of my paintings comes pretty close.

Original concept sketch for Soothsaying, from my art journal

It started, as many of my paintings do, with an image that wouldn’t leave my mind. I saw a doll holding an oversize fortune-telling fish, which was broadcasting her impending challenges: change, isolation, transformation. It was a distinct but imperceptible vision, almost like how the sun becomes imprinted on the back of your eye for a while if you stare at it for long enough. I captured it in my art journal so I wouldn’t lose it.

When I was able to put it onto canvas, the scene had grown and become more clear. It grew to include cala lillies, a striped bumblebee, and a landscape littered with symbolism. Not unexpected for me: as I paint, sometimes the development takes on a life of its own, seemingly out of my hands. What did seem odd was, upon completion, how many people — even strangers — remarked that the doll looked like me.

SOOTHSAYING | 2011 | oil on canvas, 25" x 25" — SOOTHSAYING |
2011 |
oil on canvas, 25″ x 25″

It’s an interesting process: when you paint honestly, your life can bleed into your work. It wasn’t intentional, but there it is. “Soothsaying” is accidentally the closest I’ve come to a self portrait.

Why it’s hard to clean my studio

JF Sebastian (Blade Runner) surrounded by his manufactured friends

I realize it’s time to clean my studio.

Like many highly-creative people, I am not a natural organizer. I have a high appreciation for people who are, but my brain does not naturally compartmentalize, label, or sort. I often wish it did, but it does not.

And I find that my projects are an ongoing conversation; the more I see the things I’m working on, the further they speak to me and develop. A good portion of my process I refer to as “air painting,” whereby I paint ahead in my mind. Throughout the day I’ll often stop and stare at my work, as my brain works ahead of my brush.

So you see, although I’ll tidy often it’s not conducive to productivity to stop and clean out my art studio.

But, to be honest, it’s mostly the friends.

I saw the movie Blade Runner as a young girl, and rejoiced in open-mouthed wonder at the scene of JF Sebastian and his home. He was an inventor, and filled his home with living dolls and robotic wonders as companions. I wanted this, too.

Dolls in progress on my workbench, patiently waiting their turn in the process: steer, devil bunny, alpaca

Although I never got the animatronics part figured out (yet), my art studio is filled with the presence of the dolls I create, and I find their company very soothing. Their eyes watch me, seemingly cheering me on even while their heads lie disincorporated and awaiting attachment to forming bodies. Completed, they stand a silent army of compatriots in my personal palette, clothed in velvet and lace, always silent assent. They’re wonderful community. And yet, I need a little more room to create.

My goal today is getting close to an elusive balance of work space and organic sprawl, without losing presence of the company I keep.