Moody Artist

Do What You Gotta Do

Happy New Year everybody!  Today is a rare day in which I am not working any of my three jobs.  Yes, you read that correctly, I now have three jobs.  My first job is still artist and proprietor of The Station Wagon Studio.  My second job is my part time admin job at United Community Ministries.  And I now have a third job, a six months contract doing TPF programming for HP.   It is a migration project being done for American Airlines and is the type of programming I did many years ago at Piedmont Airlines. I heard of it through a dear friend, who encouraged me to give it a try.  So I'm learning some new software and relearning some old skills and working 6 hours each day after I get home from UCM.  It wasn't exactly on my list of things to do for 2011, but I simply could not let this opportunity go by. The extra money will allow me to rebuild my savings and have some badly needed dental work done (Eight crowns and four root canals! Yikes!).  So you gotta do what you gotta do, which is what my grandfather always said.  He worked continuously during the Great Depression, sometimes at multiple jobs.  He moved his family where he could find work.  He told me that if someone needed something done, he'd learn how to do it.  "If someone needed a house painted, I'd paint it.  If someone needed wallpaper hung, I'd hang it."  He did not let himself be defined by a label or a job description.  While I don't have a spouse and five children to support like he did, I do feel the need to clear my credit card balance and horde every penny I can.  I was hoping that 2011 would be better than 2010 for sales, and it was, but only slightly.  I have no guarantee that 2012 will be any better.  In fact, all indications say that the art festival business is declining.  I tend to agree with this, but I think it will be replaced by something else, what, I don't know.

 

But I am first and foremost, always and forever, an artist.  It is such an important part of myself, even if I can't this year or next, make my living off it.  I love creating art and selling it.  I love putting up my tent with the anticipation of sales, and taking it down with either the satisfaction of sales, or the hope of future sales.  Every show I've ever done, even those where I didn't sell a thing, had people looking at and admiring my work.  The kind words and appreciation do not pay the bills, but they do keep me going.  And now that my time is even more limited, my first job will be that much more precious to me. 

Actually, all three of my jobs offer me unique satisfactions beyond that of a paycheck.  My first job allows me to exercise my love of creating art.  My second job allows me to work with dedicated people to help the impoverished in my community.  My third job lets me enjoy digging into complicated puzzles, discovering how things work, and find the best solutions.  I feel fortunate to be able to have all of these opportunities in my life.  So what if my house is a little messy or my yard is untidy?  I've got work to do!

Here's what I worked on yesterday.  I started it last month in Ft. Hunt park, but couldn't finish it before the sun set.  So I finished it up yesterday, making it the last painting of 2011.

  "Ft. Hunt Kudzu Range", 12 x 4, pastel, $300 framed

Carving Out Some Paintings

With my job keeping me busy in the mornings, I've had to make some adjustments to my painting and business schedule.  I've always believed myself to be a morning person.  After I have my coffee, I feel more energetic and creative.  Before I started my job, I would get up around 7, eat breakfast, drink coffee and read the Washington Post until about 9, then do something that would hopefully be productive until about noon, when I would then go to my spinning class.  That was the plan and it worked reasonably well.  I never tried to paint much in the afternoons, because I was staunchly a Morning Person. 

Now that's all changed.  When I leave UCM at 1pm, I often run errands and go to the gym, so I don't get home until about 5 or so.  Time to cook dinner and too late to paint!  So my painting output has been close to zero!  As you painters know, if you don't paint regularly, you get rusty.  I found that out when I went to Great Falls last Sunday on a rare Sunday off and tried to paint. Boy, were my painting muscles weak and sore! 

So, it's time to make some changes in both routine and perceptions.  This morning painter has become an afternoon painter.  The day after the Great Falls Fiasco, Monday, I immediately went to Huntley Meadows Park in Alexandria after work.  It's about 5 minutes away and has beautiful marshlands and woods.  Being Monday, it was still and quiet with only a few people enjoying the crisp air.  And my painting muscles were raring to go.  I did three small paintings from the boardwalk in about an hour and I'm very pleased with them.  This session was more a sprint than a marathon because when I left, about an hour and a half later, I still had time for a few errands. 

So I'm designating Monday afternoons as "Paint Days."  Somewhere, either in my studio, or close by home (so that I don't lose time driving), I'm going to paint.  This is a change from when I used to designate entire days as paint days, but since I can no longer enjoy that luxury, I'm carving out smaller chunks of time.  The beauty of pastels is that they can be packed up quickly and toted anywhere.  I'm putting together a smaller, traveling kit that I can keep in the car and that can be set up very quickly.  It won't have the full range of colors that I have in my studio, but it will allow me to start short painting sprints and keep my painting muscles sleek and toned.  And it's a good way to start the week on the right note!

Here are a few "sprints":

 "Autumn at Huntley Meadows" 9 x 5.5, pastel

$200

 

"Autumn Afternoon"  12 x 8, pastel

$300

 

 

"October Marshland"  9 x 5.5, pastel

$200

 

Reality Check

Like many artists today, I've recently gotten a day job.  Even though my sales are up from last year (because I've been doing bigger shows) and my expenses are down (because I'm traveling less), I'm having trouble making ends meet by just doing art shows.  So, to supplement my income before my savings are completely exhausted, I decided that it was time to get a job. At first, it felt like a defeat, a concession, an admittance that I couldn't make it as a full-time artist.  But after talking to many artists this spring and summer, I realized that there's only so much one can do to buck the economy.  Face it, the recession is here and won't be going away anytime soon.  Getting a job is one way to deal with it.  So I started looking for something that would bring in some extra money, engage me in something interesting, but not interfere with my art business.

Lo and behold, I found it on Idealist.org.  There was a listing from United Community MInistries looking for a part time assistant in the Development and Communications department.  UCM is a nonprofit organization that provides services to the homeless and impoverished in the Route One corridor of Fairfax County, right in my own backyard.  I applied for the job, had a delightful interview with Niki and Sarah, and started last week.  The people are warm, welcoming, and very dedicated to their mission.   I'm learning lots about the worlds of fundraising and social services.  The hours fly by and allow me plenty of time for art business.  It's a ten minute drive from my home, so no more wasted commuter time.  I can even ride my bike to the office, which I did last week!  I can't believe my luck in finding such a good fit.

Plus, having a job is adding structure to my day and that's a good thing.  Yes, it was nice to have long blocks of free time, but I didn't always use it wisely.  They say that if you want something done, give it to a busy person to do.  That's very true in my case.  I know I'll get more done if I have less time in which to do it.

The real test will come next weekend.  I'm doing the Yorkfest Arts Festival, which is a two day, juried festival in York, PA.  Next Friday, I'll go to work, leave right after work, drive for 3 hours, and set up my Trimline canopy that night.  Saturday and Sunday, I'll do the show.  Sunday evening, I'll tear down, drive back home and probably collapse into bed around 11pm.  Then I'll be at my desk bright and early the very next day.  No sleeping in on Monday for me!  Then I've got two one-day shows that weekend.  But...I've got a paid holiday on Labor Day!

Rescue Me!

Lately, I've been rescuing some neglected strays.  No, I'm not talking about cats (although I've done that and have 4 litterboxes to prove it!).  When I paint on location, I always end up with a few paintings that just fizzle out.  Or maybe I've fizzled out.  I used to push myself to finish these before packing up, but I've learned that that never works.  Once the painting energy says bye-bye, it's gone and there's no surer way to ruin a good start than to try and finish it when I'm tired, hungry, and gotta go to the bathroom.  So I bring them back, and put them in the flat file.  And sometimes they languish there for years.

Yesterday, I was looking for some Wallis Sanded paper and ran across a few of these.  What have I got to lose?  I can always put them back in the drawer if things don't go well.  This task fit my mood very well.  I didn't have the energy to start anything new, so why not work on something already started?  I didn't have any reference photos, which could have been a problem.  So my task was to make these paintings look beautiful and interesting on their own merit, rather than try to capture a specific place. 

It was fun, and I think quite successful.  Here's a before and after.  I thought the sky was very flat, so I added a few lighter tones.  I also wanted to warm up the sunlit sides of the tree and bump up the contrast.  I added lots of greens, purples, and oranges to the dark sides to add interest.  I also took out a lot of extraneous branches in the background since I thought they detracted from the trunk.  I am pretty happy with this rescued stray.  It is a different take on a very familiar subject matter.  I matted it in black, and put it in a gold flecked black frame and it looks pretty smashing, IMHO.                                                     

 

 

 

 

"Still Standing" before  

"Still Standing"  9 x 12 pastel, $300

Here are two other rescues.  These actually came from one painting that I started in 2008 in Mountainair, New Mexico.  I had just laid down the darks of the mountain and the tawny colors of the field when I completely ran out of energy.  Yesterday, I wasn't really in the mood to do big field landscapes since I had done a number of those lately, so I thought I'd take a totally different tactic here.  I turned these into two smaller paintings and one of them turned into a beach dune scene.  The beach scene just seemed to evolve while I was building up the grasses.  Hey, this reminds me of Assateague Island!  So, while it is not a specific location on Assateague, it is true to the mood and the nature of the island. 

"Sundrenched" 6 x 9 pastel, $175

 

 

 

"Beach Path" 5 x 5 pastel, $100

So, lesson of the day?  Don't throw away any unfinished work. 

 

Now That's More Like It!

Ever seen that V8 commercial where the bride is zipped into her dress and she yells "YESS!  That's more like it!"?  Well, I'm not a bride, but I can second that emotion!  Last week I did the Central Pennsylvannia Festival of the Arts in State College, PA and I found that it was everything it was cracked up to be.  The people were friendly, the amenities were gracious and plentiful, the setting was beautiful, and the sales were terrific.  At one point, I had people standing in line at my desk to buy stuff!!!  Yes!  Standing! in! line! The hours were long, but the weather was so nice, especially after the sun set.  My neighbors were fun people, especially Carol, who made an ice cream run for us on Sunday.  And I had a wonderful roommate, Patricia Walkar, whom I met at the Fairfax Festival of the Arts.  We had a blast and it was sure nice to not have a huge hotel bill on checkout.

The only bad thing?  I am now totally spoiled on what an art show should be.  I will be completely miserable if I don't get in CPFA next year!

"Below the Rim"  12 x 18 pastel

Sold to a couple who loved the Grand Canyon as much as I did!

And now for something a little different.....

I've been experimenting with a slight change in my style and I'm having a lot of fun with it. Years ago, I was working in colored pencil and trying to perfect the photo-realistic style for which colored pencils are so well suited. But being a slave to detail was becoming tedious and demanding.  When a friend suggested pastels for a change of pace, I tried it and haven't looked back.  Working with big sticks of chalk forces you to loosen up and to be choosy about what details you include.  Ever since then, I've been gradually simplifying my paintings in an attempt to master the essence of a scene.  As I have told many people, it's hard to be simple.  What you leave out of a painting is sometimes more important than what you leave in.  This is especially so when working en plein air.  All the detail that your eye can see just begs to be included!

Well, lately, I've found even the simplified scenes to be too demanding.  So, as an exercise, I did a few paintings that just  played with colors and shapes.  I took a simple scene and reduced it down to simple shapes, then punched it up with color.  And colors that I liked, just for fun.  It was like relaxing in a warm bath at the end of long day.

Have a look:

 

 "Neighbors"  7 x 5, pastel $100

 

 

 

"Neighbors, Too" 7 x 5, sold

They've been a hit at the last few art shows.  The bright colors and simple shapes make an immediate impact.  A lady told me that they made her smile.  Me too! 

Here's something a little more ambitious:

"Landings" 12 x 16, pastel, $300

All of these are based on real locations, but I've added my own imagination to them.  Is this just an artistic diversion?  How long should I stay on this path?  Am I slowly turning into an abstract artist?  When I look at the life work of other artists, I see a lot of times where the artist took a left turn and ended up somewhere else entirely.  Is that what's going on here?  Maybe.  I doubt if I'll ever be a truly abstract artist, but I'd like to merge the simplicity and fun of abstracting a scene with the sacred artistic duty of capturing the beauty of nature and showing it as it is.

On the Boardwalk

Just recovering from a three week show-a-palooza that started with Art on the Grand in Farmington, MI, continued with the Flint Art Fair in Flint, MI, and then concluded with the Boardwalk Art Festival in Virginia Beach, VA.  In between these shows I had a lot of driving, a lot of listening to "The Pillars of the Earth" by Ken Follet, a lot of painting, and some tense moments while my father had surgery.

All shows were pleasant to do and had great people in attendance.  As far as sales go, Farmington was not bad, Flint was a disappointment, and Boardwalk was my best show ever.  I was quite nervous in that Boardwalk does not allow sales of reproductions, the bread and butter of artists in this recession.  But I sold nine paintings and five studies.  I had bare space on the walls when I tore down on Sunday night!

The very, very best moment of the last few weeks came on Friday, when I had set up my easel to do some painting in my tent.  I don't usually paint during a show, but I needed to replenish my inventory, plus I had a beautiful view of the ocean that I couldn't resist.  I was painting some small ocean scenes when two young artists stopped by to watch.  These young ladies were interested in art and had lots of good questions to ask about what I was doing.  They also had some good suggestions!  Their enthusiasm was catching and they reminded me of when I was their age.  Their mom came up and thanked me for talking to them.  She said most other artists wouldn't even give them the time of day.  Well, it was my pleasure to talk with two sweet and charming artists.  Frankly, any artist that wouldn't want to encourage a young person doesn't deserve to be an artist.  With funding for arts education becoming more and more endangered, it is important for us artists to pick up the slack and help the next generation of artists and art collectors whenever possible.  Besides, I learned a lot from these two young artists and several others that stopped by to chat! 

I was privileged that these two young ladies wanted to buy the paintings that they helped me create.  Here a picture of three very proud artists!  Maria and Kate, I will remember you for a long time!  I hope these paintings remind you of someone who wishes the very best for you.

The Good, the Bad, and the Windy

I'm back from my first big shows of the season and boy, what a mixed bag it was!  The Dogwood Fine Arts Festival in Knoxville had 2 out of 3 days of scary bad weather.  And I mean SCARY!  My heavy duty Trimline tent was swaying in the wind, even with all the weight I had packed onto it.  I saw two potters lose shelves of work from gusts of wind.  It was cold and rainy Friday, cold, windy, and rainy Saturday, and beautiful on Sunday.  But guess what?  I had not too bad sales.  I had a visit from a terrific lady who bought my work last year and bought some more this year.  I also had a visit from a lovely Southern lady who lives in the area who chatted with me last year.  It's so nice to be remembered! The volunteers were nice and the baguettes at the French Market across the street were divine.  It was a pretty decent show all in all.

On the riverfront in Savannah, we enjoyed 3 days of beautiful, warm weather.  But miserable sales.  A few folks I spoke with had some decent sales, but nothing to write home about.  Most of us came a long way, racked up huge expenses, and had dismal sales.  All of the fun activities that the riverfront folks had planned did not bring out the throngs of people that we had hoped for.  Perhaps the holiday weekend affected this, I don't know.  Just not a lot of foot traffic and most of the people were not in the market for anything, especially not art.  You know, bad sales are one thing, but when hours pass by without anyone even stepping into your tent, that really blows!  Thank God for two things:  the great music the DJ was playing all weekend long and that I brought my colored pencils and sketch pad.  The hours were long, but there was good music  which keep my spirits and energy up.

I had a beautiful view of the Savannah River.  Here're some shots of my booth and the riverfront.  That's a big ole container ship on the river.  Those things are huge!  How do they stay afloat?

   

Excitedly Terrified

Or terrifiededly excited? This time last year, I was kicking off my first year as a professional artist.  I was just getting ready to hit the road to do the Dogwood Arts Festival in Knoxville, TN.  And I was absolutely terrified.  Of what?  Of failing at something that I want so badly to succeed.  Well, I did 35 shows during 2010 and managed to sell a bunch of paintings, prints and notecards.  I met a lot of great people; collectors, fellow artists, and browsers.  I endured the hottest summer in recorded history, setting up a heavy tent in 98 degree heat and sitting long hours in said tent in said heat.  I pushed this arthritic back into lifting, toting, and dragging heavy equipment from car to booth space and back to car again.  I enjoyed spending quality time with family and friends because I was able to do shows in Tennessee, North Carolina, and Michigan  I read many, many books on CD in my car and saw so much beauty from behind the windshield.  I ate hundreds of peanut butter sandwiches, drank gallons upon gallons of water (with Crystal Light lemonade flavor!), munched on bushels of apples, and downed many post-show beers and glasses of wine.

And not even to mention all the wonderful time spent in front of the easel!  While 2010 was a terrible year for many people, it was one of the most stressful and enjoyable years of my life.

Now I ready for Episode Two - 2011.  I've got a full slate of shows for the next few months.  My tent and equipment have been oiled and cleaned  and are ready for the road.  I've got a lot of new work, including a few new oil paintings!  I've got a stack of promotional postcards and a long mailing list of people to send them to.  Still got the arthritic back, but I think my recent weight training has built up some more muscle.  I've got experience under my belt and confidence in my work.  I know how to pack my paintings so that the glass doesn't break and how to pack my car so that everything fits (just barely!).  I'm looking forward to going back to some shows I did last year and trying some new shows.

But I'm still terrified.  I have sunk every dime, every thought, every scrap of my being into creating and selling my work.  I have no hobbies.  I have no social life.  I have no disposable income.  I have no Plan B.  This is my everything.  If this fails, I won't exist.  Everything is at stake, so I mustn't fail.  Rotten economy or not, I must make this work. 

Something new for Spring:

  "In the Fields", pastel, 10 x 6 

  $300 framed, $200 unframed

New Beginnings

I've put aside the pastels and have started working in oils. I never thought I would type those words.  I love the vibrancy and immediacy of pastels, always have, always will.  But lately, I've been bumping my head against some of the limitations of pastels.  Like how difficult it is to get a real sharp edge.  At this time of year, the tree branches are skinny and spindly and don't like to be drawn in with a thick pastel.  Even using pastel pencils hasn't given me the effect that I'm looking for.  I'm looking for graceful, yet delicate lines with some hard edges.  When I look at bare tree branches, they're dark against a milky white sky.  But I can't quite seem to get the branches dark and crisp enough with pastels.  Lately, I've longed to paint these branches with a fully loaded, tapered brush.

So I bought an inexpensive starter oil set, toned up a few inexpensive panels, selected a few simple inexpensive subjects and dove in.  And wow!  I mean WOW!  I can't get enough of the juiciness of paint.  The vast vocabulary of brushes.  The endless combinations and permutations of mixed colors.  Yes, my first efforts are a little clumsy, but I'm very pleased with them.  I expected so much more effort and so much less satisfaction.  So now, I'm full-bore into oil painting. 

And it is a bit of a struggle because there are some signficant differences between working in oil and working in pastel.  Namely:

Drying time:  it's simply not a factor in pastels, but something I have to consider with oil.  I can't just finish an oil painting in the morning, frame it in the afternoon and sell it that weekend.  Working wet in wet versus dry also lends many different possibilities.  I also have to think ahead and make sure that I've got plenty of toned, dry panels ready for painting marathons. (But it does give me time to do some blogging!  I'm writing this now, while I wait for some paint to dry!)

Cleaning stuff:  I absolutely hate having to deal with medium and solvents.  I'm desparately trying to figure out how to get things clean without having the turpenoid go down the sink.  I'm using Turpenoid Natural, which is expensive, but supposedly safe for me and the environment.

Different types of hues:  I'm learning the difference between opaque and transparent paint.  Again, not a factor in pastels.

Blending on a palette:  With pastels, I blended my colors right on the paper, usually with the tip of my little finger.  With oils, I need to lean how to use a palette.  Which also requires keeping it organized and clean.  Very helpful:  Palette Skills video at Jerry's Artarama.  Just a few minutes long, but Mike Rooney's demonstration of basic palette skills is something I haven't seen covered in any book. 

Framing: Haven't yet framed any of my oils yet, but I'm looking forward to NOT worrying about having the right mat and NOT having to deal with glass!  And NOT having to throw away a mat because it got too smudged!

Photographing oil paintings:  Can't just slap them on the scanner like I do my smaller pastels!  I tried it and the scanner picked up every little canvas bump. So for now, I'm just going to do my best to photograph them, but I'll need to deal with this as I get more photo-worthy oil paintings under my belt.

All these gripes remind me of when I was learning pastels.  I remember being completely intimidated by the hundreds of colors, shapes, sizes, and softnesses available.  But now using pastels is a natural to me as brushing my teeth, so I'm hoping that oils will eventually have the same degree of comfort. 

It's a new year, a new season, and I'm learning a new language in which to express my love for the natural world.  It's so exciting to discover this new and ancient medium.  But I'm not giving up pastels entirely.  They'll always be my first love.  When I do break out the boxes, I'm hoping that I'll have learned some new things from working in oil that will allow me to push the pastels ever further.