Out of the Box! (Week 2)

"Blue Barn"

9x12 oil on paper

$60 unframed

 Oil painting class, week 2! 

This is harder than I remember.  I mean, I never thought oil was that easy anyway, but I don't remember it being this hard.  Of course, that's my fault.  I'm impatient.  I want what I want when I want it, kinda like a cat.  I want it now and I want it exactly like I want it. 

Oil painting does not work that way. 

The most difficult part of anything for me is practice.  I don't want to practice.  I just want to do it.  I expect to be able to do anything perfectly the first time I try and if that doesn't happen, I run away and find something else to do.  I suppose I'm somewhat of an egotist, if I think I can always do it right the first time.  But that contradicts my own philosophy of arts and crafts, my mantra, my personal catch-phrase: Not Too Crooked!  As Vinnie Barbarino would say, "I'm so confused!" 

What I need to do is to rethink my thinks.

If I want it to be perfect, how can I accept it if it's Not Too Crooked?  Well, I can't.  Is it possible I have my own Not Too Crooked definition of "perfect?'  That must be it.  What may be perfect by my standards is Not Too Crooked by the rest of the world's. But, wait!  If the rest of the world thinks it's even A Little Bit Crooked, am I going to be happy to present it as my own?  Oh, Lord! I'm more confused than ever!

Anyway, oil painting class

  One thing I need to learn is not to put colors out on my palette that I'm probably not going to use.  When I first started oils, I was taught to lay out my palette with warm and cool versions of red, yellow and blue, plus yellow ochre, raw and burnt sienna, raw and burnt umber, black, white, and the ubiquitous Viridian. ("Ubiquitous' is a great word that perfectly describes the character of Viridian. It means "existing or being everywhere, especially at the same time."  Once Viridian comes into your life, you will pay hell to get it out, like ants in the kitchen.  But that's a conversation for another day.)  Getting back to my palette, I would lay out 14 colors, sometimes more, before I even started to paint, adding maybe an orange, another yellow, violet, couple shades of green, and never use half of them. Now, I have seen people scrape up little bits of pigment and actually get it back into the tube, but, really?!  I've known one who would lay a piece of plastic wrap over the surface and put her whole palette in the freezer right next to the pot pies and the popsicles.  Doesn't sound very appetizing to me!  I just try to use up as much pigment as I can within a couple of days.  I hate to waste it.  Paint is expensive. If I was selling paintings for a ton of money, I probably wouldn't worry about it, but I'm not, so I do. Seemingly, this would encourage me to paint every day, but sometimes life and laundry get in the way. 

This last class, good old Viridian stayed in the tube and I made all my greens

. I had Cobalt and Ultramarine, Cad Yellow and Cad Yellow Light, and was able to make some passable winter greens.  A touch of Cad Red or Burnt Sienna to gray them down if needed, and of course, white. I use a lot of white in oil painting.  And more yellow than blue. The next morning, I touched up a few bits on my little barn, and realized the only colors left that were still malleable were Alizarin Crimson and Ultramarine Blue, and a little smear of Cobalt.  The result of that combination, slathered on a 5x7 canvas board, is below, a dark blue pear on a pink background. Interesting. Different. Fun to do. But that's what painting should be. Interesting, different and fun to do. And Not Too Crooked.  Don't forget Not Too Crooked!   

Carole 

"Midnight Snack"

5x7 oil

$20 unframed

ps. If by chance you'd like to own one of my paintings, my contact info is in my bio and I don't expect anyone to purchase anything before seeing it "in person." Photos are never the same as the real life version. If you like my work, that's wonderful, but if you don't, no problem.  We'll still be friends. Promise. One can't be an artist and be thin-skinned.  C. 

Out of the Box!

"Sunflowers Bouquet"

9x12 oil on paper

$60 unframed

"Faded Glory"

5x7 oil on board

$20 unframed

My friend and I decided climb out of our respective boxes and  take an oil painting class. 

It being the dead of winter and inspiration, seemingly, at an all time low, we figured it would get us our of our rut and expand our horizons.

                                          Now, I have painted oils in the past.  I took several plein aire workshops with Heiner Hertling at Germanton Gallery in Germanton, NC a few years ago and produced a fair number of mediocre to half-way decent paintings.  I enjoyed the process and the way the paint moved and it really helped me get over my fear of white paper.  While I like the medium, I don't like the mess.  Some days I only have a small amount of time to spend painting and with oil, the clean-up takes longer than that.

                                         When we arrived at class, there were 2 different areas already set up for painting.  One was a still life of a yellow pitcher with sunflowers and the other was a landscape projected onto a screen.  Two-thirds of the class was already in place to paint the landscape.  Those were the folks who looked like they knew what they were doing. 

                                        My friend and I chose the still life because we didn't know what we were doing. Or at least, I didn't feel like I did, since it had been years ago I had painted this way.  I discovered that, even though I remembered most of the mechanics of oil painting, I had lost my touch in handling the paint.  I used too much thinner.  I couldn't get the hang of laying wet paint over wet paint.  In my efforts to get the shape right, the subject kept getting bigger and bigger until I ran out of ground.  I wiped it off and started over.  I wiped it off and started again.  I whined (to my self in my head.  I learned a long, long time ago that people don't like it when old women whine aloud.)  I wanted to quit and go home.  In spite of all that septuagenarian angst, I was finally able to produce the little piece above at the top.  Not too bad for a first attempt after a long hiatus. 

             The next morning, I still had paint on my palette,

and being the self-proclaimed Queen of Left-overs, I had to do something with it.  A small palette knife and a piece of 5x7 Masonite that had been previously toned with burnt sienna came to the rescue and in a few minutes, the small painting on the right appeared.  I ran out of yellow before I ran out of flowers, but, like any left-over queen, I improvised. 

               Each could have been better, each could have been worse. But they're not too crooked.

Yep, they will do. 

It's good to get out of your box.  We never know what we can do until we try, 'til we dare to take that leap, no matter how small. 

Carole

"Sunflowers and Pears"

Watercolor

16 x 20 matted unframed $175