If we wait until we're ready, We'll be waiting for the rest of our lives.

After all this many decades, I know myself well enough to recognize that if somebody ELSE wants me to meet a deadline, I will do so.  But if it's just me, I can procrastinate until after the cows (and sheep) have metaphorically come home, had a meal and gone to sleep.

My painter friends (and other interested supporters) have noticed that I haven't been painting much over the summer.  I want to paint.  I want to paint better.  I want to deserve to call myself a painter/artist.

But with daily medical appointments and sudden attack-maps, I felt neither ready nor able.




But this morning, I was.  Able.  Willing.  Ready enough. A quarter of a year had passed since I had lifted a paint brush.  Oh, I did some sketches for sanity's sake, but no painting.  No thumbnails, compositions, value studies, blocking in or detailing.

I was also pretty sure that I had left my "studio" in, um, disarray.  Okay, I'd left it in chaos. 
My traveling oil painting cart had been collecting dust in the bedroom.  I hauled it downstairs.
Then I went back upstairs to retrieve my acrylic painting supplies.
Carried that carton downstairs in spite of imminent danger of being tripped by the beloved cat.

As I unpacked the traveling oil paint cart, I realized I could probably sabotage myself for another week or so if I insisted that I pre-clean my work space.
So I didn't.  Sidestepping THAT big of procrastination was a miracle on the order of seeing Jesus's face in a piece of toast.

I could feel my nerve draining.  I knew that the longer I dithered at the easel before  putting paint on canvas the harder it would be.
Almost in a panic, I found a canvas panel, a putty knife (needed something bigger than a palette knife) and some acrylic for underpainting.


Squee!  Squirt!  Squish!  Spread around the read.  Ooze on some raw umber.  See if the Molding Paste jar could be opened and play with that.  After the paint and paste was spread around, I played with some textural tools and scrapers until I realized that I wanted to add more colors... but that even fast-drying acrylic doesn't dry THAT fast.  But I'd broken the ice.  Broken the log jam.  Got re-started.





There's a painting I really want to do... but that I don't have much confidence about.  I even started it.  So, in spite of really WANTING to work on that one, I thought it was only fair to proceed somewhat cautiously.

I found a barely begun landscape of a white barn in the pale green hills of Ohio.  I even found the print out of the reference photograph... which I took in 2012 on our late-winter trek from Texas to New Hampshire.

Remembering that I tend to over-worry and over work my paintings, I scraped off the old wads of paint from my palette, squeezed out a minimal number of hues and got back to work.

 

 Of course, even wanting to keep it loose, there's more to be done.
And I'm pleased with myself for being back on my journey of seeing, interpreting and sharing....

even if I need to take Ibuprofen for a few days to balance out the sore muscles from holding up something as small as a paintbrush.

Oh... and I've resolved to organize my painting area... and once it IS organized, to keep it that way.
But... no hurry.  I'll do it when I'm ready enough, but before I am perfectly ready.

Painting Progress x Two

 

I suppose there will come a time when I'll edit my blog and photostreams and delete the works in progress or unsuccessful ones.  But maybe not. I like watching the progress of others and am definitely grateful to see progress in my own technical and stylistic development.

My "art notes" are sketchy at best.  But when I make these entries, I include details that would otherwise be omitted and remember things just by looking.  The canvas panel above (9 x 12) was toned with a combination of Mars red and Cad yellow.  I wish I'd had those colors in acrylic, because it would have dried quickly enough to avoid the green sky strokes!  But I'm liking the drama of the complimentary under-coat.  I took the reference photograph at Nichols Candies on the way to Gloucester, MA:  Shooting from a parking lot across a bit of lawn and sea-grass to an islet and hills on the far side of an ocean inlet.  The vacant spots which seem like they'll be clouds are actually masses of leaves atop skinny, asymmetrical trees.  There is also going to be a more or less vertical white stripe of reflected sun shine  in the "water."  Stay tuned.

 This floral impression is inspired by a florist's portfolio.  My daughter-in-law is enamored of star-gazer lilies and I hope you can see the foundation for two of those beautiful pink blooms.  She's hit a rough patch recently, and I'm hoping this turns out well enough (and dries fast enough) to be a bit of cheer for her home or office (8 x 10 could fit in a cubical, right?).  I need to get the vase cleared up and full of water and stems as well as increase the variety of pinks, and mauves. I've also noticed that I'd better widen the foot of the vase of the whole thing might tip over!

If I don't stop painting, these won't be dry in time....

 

There's an open show coming up.  And one of the rules, not too surprisingly, is NO WET PAINTINGS.  So, if I don't stop fiddling with these, there will be no submissions! Besides, I can only submit two.  I'd love to know which ones you prefer and why (or why not).  I'd also love to hear your suggestions for titles.  (Naming paintings is like combining poetry and salesmanship, with a little woo-woo thrown in.)

Today seems to have been the "one step BACK" day as far as painting goes.

In some ways, I can't believe I'm sharing this "partly done" work.  On the other hand,, I have to remind myself that the process has as much, if not MORE value than the product.

I worked on the Red Mill tonight.  I had done some foliage observation and hoped I could make the trees look more tree like and the ground cover (if it's even that) look leafier.  I am not sure I succeeded.  And I'm not very happy with what is now going on in the sky.

 

Below, through the miracle of photoshop, is the current version (left) and the prior one (right).

The good thing about oils is you can keep adding paint, but it is discouraging when you need to "undo" or re-do what had been better before.

Clearly, I need to observe more accurately to paint "dappled shadows", especially since they are the raison d'etre of the piece below.   I do think I made some progress on "leafiness", but there is a LOT more to do here.

 Comments welcome.