Painter's Salute or Oh Crap, What have I Done? acrylic, 36 x 24 |
I couldn't see all of me at one time so I ended up tall and thin and looking like Miss Hathaway from the Beverley Hillbillies. I recognize some parts--the oversized Abercrombie & Fitch corduroy shirt that reaches to my knees (found at a community yard sale for $1), my magnified bad eye (my left but reversed in the painting), and my long black underwear (good for cold weather). It's impossible to look at my hand when I'm using it to paint! This painting was fun and is not quite finished.
I never got the counter cleared. The empty easel box served as the perfect surface for holding my paints and palette. One more day to finish the painting; then it's back to clearing clutter (including the box). Mirror is upper right, next to ladder.
Hi Hallie! Wow! What a wonderful, intense look! Great title and excellent pose! Most appropriate for an artist, I think. Fun.
ReplyDeleteI return your salute with my paint laden palette knife in hand! What a big and bold move to take this on for your first project on the new easel, in the almost new studio, with the newly placed mirror all the way across the room. I love it, and look forward to seeing where you take it from here.
ReplyDeleteNow if you'll excuse me, I'm still blushing a little from seeing your underwear. I think I'll move along now...
-Don
What a fun painting. Like the new easel too.
ReplyDeleteI love the angles, and the size! Who said size doesnt matter, they were wrong. And I love the limited colors, my favorite body part is your hand holding the brush. This looks wonderful and complete to me, what else are you going to do to it?
ReplyDeleteHallie - it's impossible for me to even predict what you'll create next! Your unique perspective goes beyond the word "creative" and inspires me to become more imaginative. And, your sense of humor is based upon real truth which makes your concepts relevant to the rest of us. I'm a huge fan!
ReplyDeleteGreat way to christen your easel! I like what you're doing with this. Isn't it funny how once in front of the easel, the clutter around us seems non-existent? It's only when we enter or leave the room that it becomes visible to us... Looking forward to the finish.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Peggy. That intense look was from trying to see my reflection--I didn't get around to cleaning the mirror.
ReplyDeleteHi Don. It is cold and nothing beats long silk underwear; I wear it everywhere--even to inaugural parades. As for big and bold, I wanted to paint with the "big brushes."
Ann, thank you. I like following your works in progress.
Hi Robin. The hand steadied my head (I've had an essential head tremor for 25 years). The brush was in my hand so I decided to go with it.
Hi Kathy. Thank you, thank you. I can never predict my next project; maybe I have ADD. Humor and art are very important parts of my life. I'm a big fan of your paintings.
Thank you, Susan. I was either blessed or cursed with seeing no clutter. I notice it in photos but can easily step over and around everything. After a few days it becomes part of the decor.
Fabulous painting. How did you hold that pose? I can't even hold an expression. My mother keeps asking "Why aren't you smiling?"
ReplyDeleteI also wonder how is it that your self-portrait made you taller and thinner? Mine always left me just as fat as ever! My attitude with the results is "C'est la vie! I have to paint 'em as I see 'em.
Hallie- A phenomenal work! Van Gogh always painted his self portraits from a mirror reflection. I think you painting from your reflection across the room is an updated version of an old master.
ReplyDeleteNo one can ever see their self physically as others do. Our own sense of our self will always be flawed and influenced by our internal mind. For me, this is what your painting explores.
I love the composition and I love the shapes and shading. A beautiful piece!
Hi lifeartist (Davida). I think looking into a narrow mirror from a distance made me taller and thinner. I looked at the right side; then shifted slighty to see the left side. In doing that, I think I missed some of the middle. When I stepped back from the painting after several hours, I noticed it was out of whack but I liked it anyway. I usually smile in photos to hide my drooping jowls and long upper lip. For some reason I didn't hesitate to put them in the painting.
ReplyDeleteHi Pam. Thank you. In my internal mind, I am low and wide so I was surprised to see myself stretched vertically (like in a Corel program). I don't think of this as a real self-portrait--more like a painting influenced by the mirror. It might have been more accurate if I'd cleaned my glasses and the mirror. Nah--I just jump in and play.
What a great painting - now can you make me tall and thin?? :) I really like this and the painter's salute - and the view of your art room/studio (don't trust a neat artist!).
ReplyDeletelove it....
ReplyDeleteA female Lucian Freud at work!
Hi Rhonda. On paper or canvas, we can do anything. I think I'd be messy even if I didn't do art.
ReplyDeleteJB--wow. What a comment. For two days I've been wondering what this painting reminds me of. I think there is one of Freud holding a paintbrush. (I don't think it's on top of his head, though, to quiet an essential tremor.) I'll have to get out my ten-pound book and check--I love his work; and I'll leave Bacon to you.
Everyone above has already expressed just about everything I wanted to say ! Your work is always more than another pretty painting. I think self portraits are excellent for artists to undertake at least once a year. I need to do one soon, been a couple of years.
ReplyDeleteThanks for letting us in.
Hi Sue. Thanks. Self-portraits are fun--no one to please but ourselves. It's time for you to paint one.
ReplyDeleteAnd, JBKrost. I just looked through my Freud book--The features in this painting are skewed (unintentionally) and that "offness" is what I've always liked about his work. And he does a lot of "reflection" paintings. I didn't see one with a paintbrush.
This makes me want to load up the truck and move to Beverlee! I think it's great, whether it looks like you or not. I have such a hard time drawing/painting myself. I have no idea what I look like, or what I should look like. (This is probably a blessing). I think it is great how you always - and I mean always - find unique poses and ways to demonstrate your subject. And all of your characters could have roles in Hitchcock pictures - I mean this, sincerely, in a good way - they are haunting and very interesting.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Dan. I have no doubt that you would do a great job with a self-portrait, using a mirror or your monitor. We'll look for that. I should probably mention that my dad, when I was a teenager, looked just like Alfred Hitchcock--maybe I should check the family tree. Hitchcock's movies and tv shows were the absolute best.
ReplyDeleteL'expression est très intéressante, j'aime ce travail !
ReplyDeletekeep looking....
ReplyDeletethere has to be one somewhere!
if not, its just a fine work of art!!
Weekend & Brush--I believe this is my "pursed-lip look of concentration." Thank you.
ReplyDeleteHi JB. When I finish a painting, it always seems familiar and I always wonder about its origins (and I always hope I haven't actually seen it someplace).
This is fantastic! I love everything about it. I can "relate" to it also...I too have a "bad eye" and....wait for it...I also did a portrait that came out looking like someone from the Beverly Hillbillies! LOL...! Maybe we should get all our blogging friends to do their self portraits and perhaps we'll put together the whole cast!
ReplyDeleteYour portrait is exceptional. I really enjoy that "upper hand". Here is my Beverly Hillbilly portrait:
http://celestebergin.blogspot.com/2010/03/me-in-black-white.html
Thank you, Celeste. I checked out your portrait; I remember it well. Okay--your pose matches that of Granny but you're more of a Daisy May.
ReplyDeleteUpper hand--I like that. We all need one.
You put a unique spin on every theme. This self-portrait for instance: I've never seen anything remotely like it. I love the 'salute'!
ReplyDeleteSo I went to your Picassa gallery and can't remember if I actually posted the comment I meant to post in a whirl of fabulous paintings - but I did comment, I did!
ReplyDeleteIs this the image of your "mind at work" behind the smiles and calm you normally project? Nice way to break in the new easel.
ReplyDeleteHi MM. Thank you. I'll check out the Picasa gallery--I didn't know you could post comments but I haven't looked in a while. I need to update it.
ReplyDeleteLinda J.--hello. My mind at work is not a pretty site. Occasionally, I accidentally take an up-close self-photo when I'm setting up the camera. (I have a few stashed just in case I decide to do a scary Halloween painting.) For this painting, I couldn't see much from such a distance but I was determined to stand my ground and paint from afar.
Hallie, what's really stunning is your second photo with your painting on your new easel. I can appreciate the size of this work and it's so unique and wonderful. As always, I just love the Hallie humor.
ReplyDeleteInteresting -- my Bob has essential tremor that mostly affects his hands -- makes for some interesting experiences eating and certainly challenges his considerable skills on musical instruments. Hum, maybe I'll try putting a paint brush on his head....
I really like this self portrait with your very concentrated and a little stern look. Different and humorous.
ReplyDeleteHi Mary. I don't think the paintbrush on the head trick will work for Bob. I usually quiet mine (inherited from Dad) with a finger to the chin. It only shows up when I need to hold my head perfectly still--like during a visit to the ophthalmologist. I was surprised that it showed up when I studied myself in a mirror (not something I usually do). Then, of course, I liked the "upper hand" as Celeste called it.
ReplyDeleteThank you Jane. This was one of those paintings where I really enjoyed the process--didn't worry about the outcome.
Great painting, wonderful story and a super way to inaugurate your easel!
ReplyDelete