Cobwebs in the Creative Attic

Egads, has it been a month since the last post?!  My apologies, dear readers.  I'd like to claim that I have been busy traveling to faraway exotic lands, or composing a opera or something, but the truth is that, were I to actually pass through an airport scanner, the results would look something like this:

This would probably be curiously described in some dust-collecting psychiatric text as something like "Unequivocal Sentient Dormancy", or "Complete Hibernation of Imaginative Oomph".  A definitive understanding of this creative malaise was proving elusive, until I stumbled upon something eye-opening while perusing one of my favorite time-sucking websites:

This particular bit of graphic hilarity was posted by 'catfacemeowmers', and I was obviously immersed in the orange area when I discovered it.  I have no idea who this person is, but the above chart seemed to provide surprising and unnerving proof that they had somehow peered into my very soul, or at least ruffled through the pages of my psyche.  I have been haplessly over-indulging on the large pieces of the pie chart, whilst ignoring the tastier smaller slices. 

Well, there's no better kick in the cobwebbed creativity than a good art challenge.

Some of the artists on Daily Paintworks are now posting challenges, and Carol Marine's One Color Per Stroke caught my eye.  Since my Imagination had been under official Couch Potato status for the past month, a warm up with a familiar subject seemed in order.

Yep, my old friend has resurfaced to help lift the malaise.  She was sketched on black gessoed paper using a white Conte pencil.

Since the color scheme will be predominantly warm, a cool turquoise underpainting was used.

When the underpainting was dry, the white pencil was wiped away, and the eye was defined.

The background was first, with each brush load of paint being modified slightly to adhere to the tenets of the challenge.

Then it was time to start defining her face.  Not falling back into the 'dabbling" habit was proving to be a struggle.

'Wassup?'

7"x8.5", acrylic on paper

©2011 Lisa Walsh

The brush strokes didn't turn out as defined as I would have liked, but simpler subject and a larger brush would most likely enhance that effect.  It did feel good to clear out the cobwebs and brush some thick paint onto paper.

Now it's time for a snack.  Followed by a nap.

There's No Business Like Snow Business (or...We're Off To See The Blizzard)

Snow is an obvious staple of a midwestern winter.  We play in it, we shovel it, we sculpt it into interesting shapes.  We marvel at the beauty of a new snowfall, and then curse it's inconvenience when we get behind the wheel of a car.  We listen to the forecasts, plan accordingly, and dutifully clean and salt our walks and driveways when colliding weather fronts dump a few inches of the powdery stuff on our domain. 

When the dire predictions of impending doom began to emerge last weekend, we peered at the foretold omens with skeptical eyes, having been taken in before by the cries of meteorological "wolf".  More than once, prophecies of disaster have turned into nothing more than a bothersome dusting of white fluff.  Adopting an "oh well, just in case" attitude, we stocked up on shovels and de-icer, and the usual staples of bread and milk (my list also includes chocolate and Diet Coke). (And maybe bacon).

Well, Mother Nature decided to more than live up to the hype this time.  Pulling out all the stops, she treated us to blinding snowfalls, howling winds, and even a side show of thunder and lightning. In the northbound lanes of the illustrious Lake Shore Drive, three accidents in short succession blocked the roadway for all who followed, bringing traffic to a standstill, and quickly entombing hundreds of commuters in snow and ice encrusted vehicles. I guarantee the stranded motorists had at least these two thoughts on their minds:

• " How the hell am I going to get out of here??"

• " Why the hell did I drink so much damn coffee at the office??!!"

About ten hours later, rescue finally arrived; but instead of a prince on a white horse, it was a firefighter on a snow-whitened snowmobile. All of the marooned motorists were eventually rescued, and were rewarded with days of trying to locate their towed cars in the myriad of city impound lots.

When all was said and done, we only managed to obtain the status of 'third-worst blizzard in Chicago history", missing the top mark by a scant two inches.  If it had only managed to snow another hour or two, we easily could have taken top honors.  Thankfully, we weren't required to leave the house for any reason (not that we could have anyway), and even more thankfully, the power stayed on.

The only reason the dogs weren't handed snow shovels was due to their lack of opposable thumbs.  They celebrated this biological advantage by gleefully bounding through the snow drifts as we spent hours digging ourselves out.

The blizzard-induced sequestering wasn't all for naught; I did manage to try a couple of experiments using the Sea turtle and various acrylic mediums.  They turned into disasters in and of themselves.  Here's one example:

• Pre-calamity:

• Post-calamity:
  
  
  

I really must learn not to use India inks when I have my mad Scientist hat on, I don't have the feel (and apparently the eyesight) to tell when it's completely dry.  I may have to attempt a turtle resurrection with this one, as she was coming along interestingly before the ink obliterated her facial features.  Or maybe I have just created a new species called the Swirly-Black-Headed Sea Turtle.

Yeah.  I'm going with that.

Grounded

No, I didn't stay out all night and now I can't leave the house for a week.

(Actually, that sounds quite appealing right about now...)

We're talking painting grounds, that particular surface or substrate that we choose to use for our art.  This past Saturday I attended a "Gritty Grounds" workshop at Positive Strokes, our neighborhood art school and gallery.  The class was led by Sandi Bacon, the local rep for Golden Paints, and was an overview of some of the products that can be used to create textured grounds for all media.  Basically, it was a perfect excuse to have fun and splash some paint around on a cold winter day.

Did I bring my camera to the workshop?  Of course.  Did I bother to take any pictures during the paint splashing frenzy?  Of course not.  Next time, I promise.

Here are some of the results of the experiments:

This was my favorite.  A thin layer of Light Molding Paste was applied to watercolor paper, then fluid acrylic color was washed over the paste.  Once the paste was dry, the experiments began.  On the left, more paste was applied through a stencil.  In the middle, shapes were carved into the paste.  And on the right, another thin layer of paste was applied which lightly veiled the original wash.  Then more color was washed over the whole piece.  Lots of wonderful texture and color variation!

In this example, fluid acrylics were washed and applied opaquely over Coarse Molding Paste.

And here, paint was washed over paper coated with Iridescent Gold and some Glass Bead Gel.

This time, paint was washed over Absorbent Ground for Pastels (I think, can't quite remember all the grounds.  Must learn to write these things down....).  After a little washing and scratching, a layer of Glass Bead Gel was applied over the left side.

Here's a close-up, angled shot of the Glass Bead Gel.

There were a few other fun paint-flinging experiments done, but they were slightly wet, and managed to adhere themselves together by the time I got home.  All in all, a fun and informative workshop.  Now I feel the need to don my Mad Scientist gear, and go apply some of this newfound creativity to some unsuspecting subject.

Oh, and speaking of workshops, I am positively lightheaded with anticipation to be traveling to Hilton Head Island to attend a Karin Jurick workshop in November.  I promise I will take pictures at that one!

Motivation, Interrupted

No, I haven't fallen off the face of the earth,  I can at least thank the force of gravity for that.  It's been a simple case of being mired in the Doldrums, where any hint of a creative spark was promptly doused by a bucket full of "meh".  My Muse took a vacation, and was probably lounging on a beach somewhere with the Travelocity Gnome.

To be sure that my brain was still working, and not reduced to just a gelatinous mass whose sole purpose is to keep my skull from collapsing inward like a dying planet, I prodded a few inert neurons into life and sat down at the easel to do a little alla prima painting.

Now, I'm not an alla prima kinda gal.  I don't whip up a painting in a single sitting like a cake recipe.  I tweak.  I adjust.  I calibrate.  I fully admit that I'm powerless over my addiction to multiple layers of glazing.  But this was all about zapping dormant creativity back to life, so here goes.

The sketch was done on black gessoed paper, then a Cad Red Light underpainting was applied.

First some background....

Then on to the turtle herself....

And finally, an alla prima painting:

I had to make myself put down the brushes and back away from the easel before my trembling hand could reach for the glazing liquid.  But like the Polar Bear Series before her, I can see the potential for experimenting with various techniques with this subject.

Ahh...it's good to be back.

In With The New

...oh, hi.  Didn't see you come in.  Yes, it's me here behind this stack of Christmas storage boxes.  We have successfully celebrated, caroled, and noel-ed ourselves into a stupor.  After finally having the time to pose our reluctant bunch of canines in front of the tree for their annual holiday snapshot, the trimming and detritus of  the holidays were swiftly packed, parceled, bagged and stored.  Now the abode doesn't look like a halfway house for indigent reindeer and wayward elves anymore. 

I hope your holidays were safe and sound, merry and bright, and you enjoyed the company of family and friends.  As this new year gets underway, I wish you all health and happiness, and hope all of your New Year's wishes find a way of coming true...

 ...especially the artistic ones!

Oh, The Weather Outside Is Frightful

Okay, maybe not frightful, but it's fraught with the type of frigid cold that usually assaults the Chicago area in the middle of January, not the beginning of December. I believe it's Mother Nature way of ordering me to stay inside and goof off.  Who am I to argue with the perfect excuse to toss some tinsel and trim the tree?

Whilst tossing and trimming, I came upon my most favorite ornament of them all:  a tiny penguin that's so cute that merely gazing upon him has been known to completely thaw the very coldest of grinchy hearts.

See what I mean?

More unpacking turned up more penguins (albeit not quite as cute), so a tinsel time-out was taken to do a little fun sketching and experiment with a recently acquired set of Cretacolor AquaStics (oil pastels that are water soluble. Woo-hoo, I'm all over anything that can be construed as watermedia!).

In this sketch, the AquaStic was applied to the paper, and then gone over with a wet brush.  Not bad, but unless the pastel was applied heavily, the tooth of the Canson Acrylic paper was pretty evident, as seen on his textured, ample belly.

This time the wet brush was rubbed across the Aquastic first, and then applied to the paper, creating a smoother, looser watercolor look.

The Aquastics certainly bear more experimentation.  I can see them being a useful, easily portable plein aire tool.  And for weather wussies like me, that means plein aire-ing when the sun is shining, the birds are singing, the temperature is balmy, and your water container doesn't freeze solid before you've even had the chance to dip your brush into it.

Back to tossing and trimming.  Time to find a special spot on the tree to hang the cute little penguin.

Sitting On The Fence with a Broken Heart

I'm back from my self-imposed hiatus, my dears, and I have missed you all terribly.  I have oodles of blogs to read and much to catch up on.  Life, once again, reared it's ugly head and demanded time for other things besides art and blogging.

I actually have been dabbling in art the past month, just not in the form that you're used to seeing.  Some of the wood fence that surrounds our patio needed replacing, so we started researching options.  I wasn't happy with the flimsy examples exhibited at the big box home-improvement stores, and was even less happy with the gaggle of estimates gleaned from several fencing companies.  Being a Custom Kinda Gal, it was time to take matters into my own hands.

We have an affinity for the Craftsman style of architecture, signified by simple, elegant designs using natural materials.  Of course, trying to incorporate this refined style into a 50's tract ranch is sort of like putting perfume on a pig, but...it's our pig, and it's smelling a little sweeter with every project we do.

Lots of internet research turned up the Gamble House, an extraordinary example of the style by Arts and Crafts architects Greene and Greene.  One particular detail in the house caught my eye: the angled pieces in the upper parts of the windows that are said to simulate the rays of the rising sun.

Well, we can all use a little more sunshine in our lives, right?  With this detail in mind, I sat down to design and build a fence.  (Yes, stand back...I have power tools and I'm not afraid to use them.)

A few sketched plans and several lumber purchases later....

... a fence began to take shape.

After a couple of weekends of work, I had my sturdy, custom-built fence at a fraction of the cost of having a fence company build it, a money-saving strategy that would make my penny-pinching Scottish ancestors proud.

In between jobs and fences and holiday get-togethers, we were caring for one of our kitties who was recently diagnosed with cancer.  Yesterday, we chose to end Maxxine's battle, and she is now at peace.

Maxxine was 16 years old.  I found her and two sisters in a hollow log when they were about two weeks old.  I took the kittens home, bottle raised them, and of course couldn't part with them and kept all three. Samantha passed away several years ago, and Gracie is still fat, happy and healthy.

Maxxine definitely wasn't the smartest sister, but what she lacked in cerebral abilities she more than made up for in cuddliness.  She had a raucous meow that she used frequently, and had a purr that was so loud and deep that you felt it in your bones.  If you closed you eyes, you would swear that you had a cat-sized motorboat sitting in your lap.  With Maxx gone, the house just seems too quiet.

Queen Maxxine Jean the Jellybean

1994 - 2010

Thank you for sharing our lives these past sixteen years.

A Kinda Likable Oops

In between pressing winterizing tasks around the house (it got into the 20's here last night...brrrrrrr.  I was all set to complain about it, but the poor folks in northern Indiana got several inches of snow, so I'll just shut up), I was determined to fit in just a bit of art.  So I did a quick giraffe sketch (gotta go with what you love), and then for a change of pace, quickly outlined the sketch in India ink. 

As I began to fill in the form with some acrylic ink, the India ink began to run into my nice, clean colors, giving the giraffe an undesirable muddy skin condition.  In my haste, I had grabbed the water soluble India ink, rather than the waterproof one.    Oh well.  I had already begun, so might as well go with the flow, so to speak.  After that, ink was just brushed on with abandon.

After all was said and done, I rather liked this girl, if for nothing else than for her spontaneity, looseness and complete lack of an over-calculated attempt at control.   She's fresh, if a tad mucky, and was a blessed half an hour of just devil-may-care painting.

Tonight, the part of the Blogger will be played by....

Hello all.  Furry Critic here,  filling in for Mom who is over in the corner babbling something incoherent.  I think she's having some sort of existential artistic crisis.

 

She's walking around mumbling things like 'textured lights' and 'limited palette' and 'cohesive body of work'.     I don't quite understand what that means, but it's keeping her busy in that stoo-dee-oo.  Not to worry, I take her out for walks and make her play ball in the yard.  But if she keeps babbling, I may need to take her to the vet.

 

So in the meantime, we wish you all a safe and happy Halloween.   Now if you'll excuse me,  I see a pirate, a princess, and a cute little Chilean miner coming up the front walk, and I simply must go complement them on their costumes.

Cones of Learning

These are a few studies based on the self-assignment "Make Something Interesting Out Of A Not So Interesting Photo".  Just like the farmhouse studies, the photo was reduced to a four value, black and white image so I couldn't possibly cheat.  All of the colors and values had to be dredged up from the imaginative depths of Right Brain.

Funny what happens when you have to throw away the safety nets and are forced to dust off an atrophied imagination.  I wouldn't have thought twice about this exercise when I was a kid; I would have happily applied a rainbow of color without a second thought.  Now as an adult, the idea is met with a bit of trepidation, and a feeling of floundering around, looking for a lifeline.  I wonder when I lost that devil-may-care creative childhood spark.  Oh well.  Best not to test the water, just jump in with both feet and start splashing around.

Just like doing the Zentangle Polar Bear, these studies became a little freer and easier as I went along.  I could just picture my decrepit Imagination, slowly getting up out of a rocking chair, slightly bent over, joints creaking, then stretching a bit and loosening up.  I hope for the day when, just like in childhood, my Imagination is dancing a jig. 

Drawing the Line

Well, one of the assignments I gave myself was to start sketching on a regular basis.  Since I know myself to be a stern taskmistress, and I didn't want to get a detention from myself, a quick jaunt to the art store produced a small sketchbook that I could carry around and use frequently.  It's being put to good use around the house, and here are some of the results:

Cheyenne in her favorite "watch the world go by" spot:  the front picture window.

Maxxine sitting by the same window indulging in her favorite autumn passtime:  stalking the falling leaves.

A maniacally merry mouse sculpture.

There are certainly more than enough of these lying around the yard, I can take one or two in to be sketched.

Whaddaya know...this is quite a bit of fun, and a nifty way to get a quick art fix when sitting down and unpacking all the art supplies just isn't feasible.