On My Easel

Title not yet chosen, 20x16 cradled panel

I've been working on this oil painting for a couple of weeks; I'm as slow as molasses in February.   Mostly, I sit in my comfortable chair and wonder what to do next--and I've eaten all the snacks that were stashed in the workshop.

Of course, there will be a logical (to me) explanation of this when I post the finished painting. 

Fun with Self Portraits

A very early sketch from my sculpting days--the 70's suburban mother-wife-Fed employee-sculptor with the station wagon.

Looking in the mirror, ca 2001.

Put your chin right there (after an ophthalmologist appointment) 2002.

Pineal Pansies, Bane of Astro-travel, (from a Polaroid shot up my nose) 2003.

Rage--I'm hanging myself but holding a barbed-wire whip, 2004.

Faux Orchid--I sat in front of a mirror for hours (living in an apartment while our house was being renovated--nine months with no digital camera available) 2005.

Eye on the table--a manipulated digital photo with my new toy (a magnifier used to enlarge early TV screens) 2007.

Ideating (a "yield" or "slow" sign appeared on my cheek; I left it) photo from 2007, painted in 2009.

In person I appear normal in my well-worn, paint-spattered denim shirts--boring! The next self portrait? I think I'll be looking at a map of heaven and hell--contemplating future travel. I hope to finish the painting before I make the trip (sometimes it's years between planning a painting and actuallly getting it done).

Drawing and Discovering

The Holly Springs art exhibit was taken down on Monday and I returned my favorite drawing to its owner--a neighbor who has bought three of my works. Nose to the Lens, white conte on black paper, is sort of a self-portrait; I would not do this to anyone else. I set the camera on the kitchen windowsill, leaned on the counter (my favorite bird-watching stance) and put my nose to the lens--in the sunlight! Every wrinkle is high-lighted and I added some for good measure; the eyes are not quite aligned as they watch, the nose bulbous, the eyebrows extra-long, the hair fly-away. I took many liberties and totally enjoyed doing this.

I also made a discovery. As I looked over my glasses at one of the stray strands of my colorless hair (used to be a redhead) I realized that, in sunlight, each strand contains the whole spectrum. The colors run across the hair--not up and down the strand! Amazing! Why didn't I know that? What happens to all the things I've learned when I die? Is there a giant data base someplace? What other amazing things are right under our noses--if we just take the time to look?

(Why has no one commissioned me to do their portrait?)

Getting Beyond Vanity

Because of the upcoming exhibit a reporter came by today. I spent the morning clearing off the bookcase and dining room table; then I propped up some of my new work. I put Larry Jr., my IROBOT vacuum cleaner, to work on the floor and went upstairs to get ready. It was a nice interview with photos. Before I changed clothes and went into the workshop I thought--as long as I was spiffed up--I would set the camera on timer and take some photos. Here's the depressing part--I don't look any better than when I'm wearing my Good Will denim shirts! I believe MFK Fisher said we have to get beyond vanity; sometimes there is no choice.

I enjoy painting self-portraits showing age; seeing it in photographs is a different story.