A Forgotten Sculpture

I had forgotten about this sculpture from 20 years ago, using white, gray, and red clay.  My son took the photos and emailed them down today (the shadows may be from stained glass front windows).  I am reminded of tragedies in Japan and Haiti.

I'm not sure it had a title--maybe, Together.  The thought was, no matter what race or religion, in the end we share the same world. 

This was left in Maryland.  Not only did our son get a good deal on buying our house, I took the easy route in moving and left a lot of stuff--clay, furniture, lawn mower, snow blower, sculpture.......he's considered charging me storage fees. 

Unable to Comment

Missing my comments the last few days? I tried--many times. I tried so many times that Google said there was unusual activity (it was me trying to comment) and denied access to my email account. Then my blog disappeared for a while. All is straightened out now. While I was working on gathering tax papers, my husband was installing IE9 on the desktop and the laptop. With those upgrades, I could not post comments on either computer. Cussing didn't help.

For a while I thought the blog universe was getting even with me for a comment I posted on William Cook's site earlier this week--something like "Why does your second drawing remind me of my mother grinding sausage?" His drawings were beautiful; his words were about star charts, string theory, and Calubi-You manifold. What?  Check out his blog.

Some of you might have thought I was prescient--first I paint a cemetery; then I disappear.  I'm back.  I'll catch up on comments soon.

Tabernacle Road in Winter



Tabernacle Road in Winter, oil on gessoed w/c paper, 18x24



I don't normally paint local landscapes; everything is usually just green. For ten years I have passed this scene and just noticed it last Sunday--I liked the farm on the hill--so I went out with my camera Monday. Seventy-mile-an-hour winds and no sun; I held onto my camera as I held onto the flagpole at The Tabernacle. Everyone blew their horns, a form of greeting here in SOVA. (Whoever you were, I couldn't wave back.) I rode up to the farm--it's abandoned--the house, barn, and outbuildings are falling down. Sad. This was an area of tobacco farms and textile mills--beautiful country with rolling hills, creeks and rivers.

I used the photo as reference but much got eliminated and even tombstones got moved. My original pastel sketch reminded me of Thomas Hart Benton.

hmm..........Thursday was my birthday and I was painting a graveyard.

Man & Lure



Man & Lure, oil, 12x12 canvas panel

This is alla prima (about two hours) and first time trying water-soluble oils.

I don't know this person--if he were younger, he might be the guy who waxed my car last year. This was pure play. My son's fishing gear is stored in my workshop--instead of a shirt, this guy got a fishing pole and a fluffy yellow lure.  I managed to avoid the hooks.

I may add hair and eyebrows later--maybe not.  Maybe a hat!

Reading and Breathing and Drawing



Hmm, pencil sketch on cheap paper, 12x9



I've been reading.  I get lost in the books; while reading, my only other activities are breathing and drawing (which are the same thing--I can't do one without the other).

First, I read Color and Light by James Gurney--an excellent book--so good that I made notes.  Now I realize that I'll never find those notes when I'm painting; hopefully, I'll be able to locate the book.  I also read Oil Painting Step-by-Step, a 1953 book by A. L. Guptill.



pencil, 5x4





pencil, 5x4

 I tried to discard a February 2009 issue of Vanity Fair but there were some great full-page closely-cropped photos of the previous administration and a 25-page article titled "Farewell to All That."  I had to re-read the article and drew (No. 2 pencil) a couple of the photos by Philippe Sands--I skipped the President, the Vice President and Rove.  These two were enough.

pencil, 12x9

From the magazine George I copied the arm from the photograph "Redhead" by Paul Outerbridge, and re-read the article.  (No. 2 pencil)

3-Legged Woman, ink on yupo, 10x8

Then I tried Yupo for the first time, using walnut ink and the end of a crochet hook (couldn't find the bamboo stick).  The paper is very slippery and the ink runny--thus a 3-legged woman.

Web Removal

Spiderbelle?  pastel on Wallis sanded paper, 16x10

A germ of an idea from last month.  When I was clearing my workshop of spiderwebs I realized I always open my mouth when I look up.  My mother called this posture "catching flies."  I thought of painting it but there are many paintings of people looking up screaming--scrap that one.   From that idea to this painting:

1: A woman looking up, open-mouthed, holding a broom.   2:  Add the fan and a spider web.  3:  Which fan?  We have 3-blade fans w/lights, 5-blade w/o lights, and 4-blade w/o lights--make one up.   4:  Draw it with pastels on Wallis sanded paper (a new experience).  5.  Decide that one of the fan blades should mirror the angle of the lifted arm.  Erase the whole drawing with triangular sponge makeup thingys.  6.  Find a lifted arm--found one in a 1946 book, The Dance--right arm of Isadora Duncan.  Close the book and imagine the arm.  8.  Remember the beginning of the TV show "Zorro."   Can I get a "Z" in here--from the fan blade/broom/arm?   8.  Tape the paper to a foam board, find some rubbing alcohol, get the Holbein pastels out of the workshop and go to the YMCA for Thursday (today) art.  9.  Use the Holbein pastels for wall and ceiling; realize they're OIL pastels--retrieve the soft pastels from the car.  Carry on with alcohol and pastels.

I like it.  Now I'm deciding--

Add clothes?  Facial features?  Hands?  Spider webs hanging from fan?   Or, just work on the broom handle and call it finished?  

FYI:  I paint like I sculpt--build a nude, then add clothes.  No, this is definitely not a self-portrait--it's not even my arm. 

The Fisherman that Got Away

Fisherman Unknown, inktense pencils & pen on hot press w/c paper, 10 x 14

I live on 50,000-acre Buggs Island Lake here in Southern Virginia (called Kerr Lake in NC).  Fishing and fishing tournaments are popular.  Five years ago I saw two photos on a local site, printed them out, and naively thought I'd run into this fisherman and ask permission to do a painting of the other photo--one of him and his friend in a boat near a tree-lined shore--holding a 50/60-pound catfish.  No such luck so no such painting.  Most of the photos on the site are of gigantic fish (I think this one was posted as a joke).

Who's the Fairest?, pencil & ink on hot press w/c paper,  12 x 10

I wonder which came first in Holland--windmills or tulips?  I find aging tulips more interesting than those in their prime (this photo was taken by my son).  Age has been on my mind this week.  I was at President Kennedy's inaugural parade fifty years ago; I was eighteen and remember being on Pennsylvania Avenue climbing on piles of snow--wearing high heels, no hat, and no gloves.  As a Southerner I was not prepared for DC's sometimes harsh winters--I learned.

I recently finished reading Egon Schiele, a book discussed on RHCarpenter's blog.  I'm still looking at his drawings, watercolors, and oils; I especially liked his line drawings.  However, I still draw the same way I've been drawing since elementary school--use whatever's handy and add a black outline if I'm so inclined.

Tall & Thin in Just Three Days

 

Painter's Salute or Oh Crap, What have I Done?  acrylic, 36 x 24

After weeks of cleaning I needed to try my new easel.  I looked through my list of paintings to be done; I looked for inspiration and found none.  Finally I headed to the workshop just to splash some paint onto the easel.  I found a 10-year-old canvas--it was the only painting support I could easily reach--and propped it up.  That's when I spotted my image in a small mirror about 10 feet away.  I had hung it when I was clearing the workshop--a 70s Danish Modern rosewood piece, 7 inches wide and 20 inches tall.  With that piece I feng sui'd the workshop--the mirror faces the lake.

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.

Loose Screws

Untitled, terra cotta, 1992

 I suspect I have a few loose screws.  While most people partied for the Holidays, I cleaned out my studio/workshop to make room for a new easel.  Seven days of manual labor--this was not the brightest idea.

 

 My Richeson easel arrived Monday afternoon. 

I decided I could handle and assemble a 98-pound easel.

 Lots of pieces--and a winch and pulley!  

Winch Warning:  Not for Humans.

 

 I had my Leatherman tool.

I couldn't resist the comfy box and the easel was perfect for rigging up the camera.  Getting into the box before the self-timer blinked wasn't easy--getting out of this box and up off the floor was even harder.  My right shoulder was aching! 

All set; everything works.  I have to clean off the counter and find my paints. Tomorrow, a trip to the dumpster.

May you soar in 2011

conte

pencil

For the past month, I've been drawing these birds again.  These are old sketches found while trying to clear out my workshop.  Maybe someone should write a song called "Yellow Bird." 

I've been cleaning my workshop (another attempt) for four days--so far, I have one clean spot.  Instead of a resolution for the New Year, I opted for an incentive.  I ordered a Santa Fe II easel last week (on sale and a rebate) which will be delivered Monday afternoon--it will require space.  I have looked at oak easels for several years and worried about the wood warping in the workshop because it's a separate building, and no heat or air conditioning unless I'm out there.  Recently I thought, What the Hell--I'll warp before the easel warps; order the thing.  As I cleaned I inventoried supplies, moved boxes of photographs into the guest house, and stacked things on the porch (to be moved to the storage shed or Good Will).

Here are some of the interesting things I found--charcoal drawings of my two kids from the 60s.

Items from my brother's run for the Virginia Senate (bags and a tire cover for my Jeep); also, a 20-foot banner from my husband's run for town council.

This photo of "my relatives" will continue to hang on the bathroom wall.
Photographer unknown.

I'm off to check my lottery tickets; I might have won $200+ million!   If so, I'll skip the cleaning and build another workshop just for the easel.
 HAPPY NEW YEAR