Doorknobs and Blown Fuses



Doorknobs and Blown Fuses, pencile and ink, 4x4 on steno pad      

What can I say?  I bought eight porcelain doorknobs at an estate sale.  During remodeling I bought some at $50 per set; I can't resist a bargain.  They may appear in future paintings.  My back hurts when I stand straight; I hate pain that suddenly appears for no reason--I may blow a fuse.  Back pain+doorknobs+fuses= drawing; makes perfect sense to me.

The Picasso exhibit is still fresh in my memory.   Yes, I do have good paper but steno pads are useful for grocery lists, pro- and con- lists, sketches, paper airplanes, and fans.

After Picasso



Pitcher in a Striped Shirt?



Flasher?



I'm Still Following You

Today, I realized that my photo ID does not appear on most of my friends' Google Followers Gadgets.  I believe this happened when my blog died for a while last month.  By the time I managed to resuscitate my blog all traces of me had disappeared from my followers' blogs.  Sorry about that--I haven't been able to fix it; I can't sign up as a new follower and I can't get to settings under "blogs I follow" to work on it.  On my dashboard I actually follow 100+ blogs; I read them all but don't leave comments on most.

So just pretend I'm hanging behind you, looking over your shoulder, reading every word as you type--and probably making suggestions.  (I can read upside-down.)

If you get a new follower, it could be old me--I'm still trying.

This photo is one of several I took for a 2009 blog entry, Arting with Gravity--fun with the camera and a tangerine bag.

Picasso Exhibit at VMFA



VMFA Member Apres Picasso Exhibit, pastel 12x9

Planning is not something I do well, but tickets are required for viewing the Picasso exhibit at VMFA in Richmond--a two-hour drive.  Last week, I decided it was now-or-never and got myself to the museum Thurday at 3 p.m.--one of the extended-hours days.  A friend and fellow member accompanied me--she knows Richmond (I can only recall two previous trips to that city).

Eleven rooms filled with pieces from the Musee National Picasso, Paris--almost overwhelming.  I could have used a break half-way through--not allowed.  Nothing compares to seeing paintings and sculpture in person; his joy in creating can almost be felt.  He seemed to slop on the paint in some places and leave the canvas bare in others.  I saw chubby hands, short legs, and long legs.   He created paintings of sculptures and sculptures of paintings; I could not pick a favorite piece; "Woman Throwing a Rock" came close.

We had dinner at the Museum's Amuse restaurant and admired the setting--the chairs (Bertoia?), the lights (Nelson?), the shades on the windows, the tall wine glasses, and the round green flowers on each Saarinen? table.  The pastel above is "after Picasso" and is not a self-portrait; I, of course, wore sensible walking shoes with socks!  This was fun and I'd like to try the style again with acrylics or oil.

A quick tour of the museum revealed large works by Guston (loved it), Stella, Dine, Murray and Twombly.  I'll definitely be returning; I regret that I missed the German Expressionist exhibit and the Chuck Close exhibit.

I was once very close to Picasso's signature.  A friend who'd cleaned out his mother's garage gave me lots of books; among them, Picasso, the Early Years.  Months later, I realized that I had one of 350 copies signed by the artist.  I took a photo of my hand almost touching the signature; then I returned the book.

My Moss is Greener



In the Mossy Woods, oil on panel, 16x2              Renamed The Soft Heart



I like the painting/I hate the painting--can't decide. It's a bit maudlin; yet, I suspect Garry Trudeau's Far Side bears are lurking behind the trees. I've read that green should be avoided in paintings, but the moss in my back yard is definitely green.

Three thoughts occurred to me when I was painting (& it's not quite finished). First, everything is/was alive except the figure. Second, my favorite playground was the mossy woods. Third, some of us never got past getting teary-eyed over every injured or dead animal.

Ah. Surely, nothing dies but something mourns"......Byron.

The deer skull was rescued from a local SPCA thrift shop where I volunteered. I bought the figurine from a MD thrift shop (a volunteer there, too) 20 years ago; she reminded me of myself as a child, a shy redhead. She's crudely heavy and sloppily painted. Unlike me, she can look in two directions at once.

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.