Salt and Pepper

Within the world of watercolor artists, there is a dogma among many that black pigment should not be used. The idea behind this is that black deadens colors, and that more lively darks are better mixed from deeply pigmented colors, such as dark red and green. There is truth to this, and I use that method often myself. Yet many esteemed artists use paints such as sepia (brown mixed with black), or indigo (blue mixed with black). In this painting of our salt and pepper shakers, I used both. It seemed to me that they would be just the thing to convey the pewter like finish on the shakers. And I think that they were. Conclusion: Used carefully, black has it's place. After all, Renoir called it the "queen of colors". Incidentally, the cloth the salt and pepper are sitting on is a rag table mat that I wove back in my floor loom hand weaving days. 

Mugs

In 2013, I began to experiment with gouache, an opaque cousin to transparent watercolor. I had done a horse and a small landscape, and then moved on. Earlier this year, I started a daffodil painting in watercolor, introduced a bit of gouache into the piece, and then carried right on to completion with gouache, since it was such fun to work with. It was time to further explore this often overlooked medium. Working with different kinds of paints, with all their various quirks and considerations, is to me similar to learning and speaking in different languages. All are expressive, but say things differently. I find that when working opaquely, I don't push for as high a degree of realism as I do with watercolors. It is interesting too, in a way, to sit back (so to speak) and watch my own style emerge.

Cherry Tomatoes

I usually like to paint in bright, clear, vibrant colors. Here I was after something fresh that would just about pop off the wall. Sometimes an urge for color like this is like a food craving. But what to paint? This is an example of working with what you've got around the house, and before long I had my composition set up and shot. Complete with that wonderfully rumpled tablecloth. Ironing it would have taken away so much of the intriguing texture. This painting took longer than usual to complete, due to the many layers of glazes applied, and to the intricacy of the cut glass.

When Life Gives You Lemons, Make Lemonade

Life gave us lemons, you might say, in March of 2014. My husband, Art, sustained an injury during a cross town move which led to quadriplegia. He was hospitalized for five months, during which time I sold the home we had just bought, bought a new place in a different city, and completed the move with the help of movers. I stayed with my dad, and visited the hospital nearly every day. Although some artists work out their emotions through painting, for me, it was not a time to paint. I toyed with the idea briefly, of painting wistful nerve endings trying to reconnect, but I had nothing to give. Anyway the contents of my studio were packed away in boxes, like the rest of our stuff, waiting for the start of the 'new normal'. Sometime during the two years when I didn't paint anything at all, I envisioned the composition for the above painting. I knew that whenever I was ready to get back into it, that I would have to paint that first. It is an important piece for me, and very personal. I believe that life is a test; that there are reasons things happen, as horrible as they may be. As God gives me strength, I choose to make lemonade. 

Seasons of Fruit

As with January Fruit, this painting was several months in the making, nearly spanning all four seasons.  Although I am happy with the results, compared with the one on 300 lb paper, this 140 lb (thinner paper) one took a lot more effort at every stage of the process. Perhaps more beginners would stay with watercolor if they started out on the thicker, easier to use 300 lb paper. A thought.  Both half finished paintings were put aside, however as we embarked on a major cross country move, from Ontario after 15 years back to B.C., my home province. As the dust settles, I find myself returning to painting pets......

January Fruit

In the spirit of experimentation, I decided to do two very similar paintings: the same plate of fruit staged with the same winter sunlight, painted with the same pigments. The big difference would be the paper. Watercolor paper comes in different thicknesses, or weights, and textures. The one I prefer (300 lb cold pressed) costs considerably more than the more commonly used 140 lb. Since I still had a stash of 140 lb tucked away, I though I'd better make an effort to like the stuff enough to use it up at least. How different was it, really, from the other kind? By painting the images at the same time with all things being equal, I would find out. The plan was to paint a little on one, and then while that one was drying, I'd paint a similar passage on the other. It started out that way, but before long this one had taken a strong lead, getting way ahead of the other. Like anything requiring a lot of concentration, I get into the 'zone' and the momentum just carries me along. It would be several months before either painting would be completed, since I was about to have yet another moving experience. This one, by the way, was done on my much preferred 300 lb paper.

Insulators

These are from my collection of old (antique)? electrical insulators. I love the imperfections in the glass, and how they look in a sunny window. Like this. I have about twelve or so, and no two are exactly the same. I chose a pretty complicated subject, what with the crocheted tablecloth silhouetted  behind the glass and all. And yes, it was time consuming! Not the best choice for trying out a new painting surface. Here I have experimented with illustration board instead of my usual watercolor paper. It handled differently, but worked out in the end. But now its back to good old Arches 300 lb 100% cotton rag cold-pressed watercolor paper. It is good to try new things. And its good to come home too. Learn more about the history and value of insulators here.

Ordinary Treasures

Isn't it something how light and shadow can turn the ordinary into something extraordinary? These are the tools in my kitchen, in the pottery jar that holds them at the ready beside my stove. They are common, simple, utilitarian. But look what happens to them when they are given a chance to shine. This is what I love to do as an artist - have the viewer see something simple in a whole new way; a whole new light. I know that I for one, view these tools differently now when I see them in my kitchen. I am reminded of  their moment of glory.

Cobalt Blue

Although this is not a large painting, measuring only 7" x 11", it is a tribute to my brushes and paints. In fact, you could say that I used these brushes to paint these brushes. As for the paints, the few shown here are a primary color representation of the dozens of tubes that I own. I confess a weakness for collecting paints. To me the tubes are like seeds of color waiting to grow into a vibrant painting.

Update: On June 29 I received notice that Cobalt Blue has been accepted for exhibit in Open Water 2009, the 84th Annual Open Juried Exhibition of the Canadian Society of Painters in Watercolour. The exhibition runs from September 5th to October 24th at the Leighton Art Centre in Calgary, Alberta.

Only 63 paintings were accepted out of over 300 images that were submitted!

Tea Cups and Yellow

While working on the previous two paintings, I kept thinking of yellow. It was something like a food craving; I needed to paint bright sunny lemon yellow. Perhaps the time of year had something to do with it. There won't be daffodils for another month, and winter has been so long and drab. The landscape all around is a monotone of yellow ochre, or the color of mouldy straw. But that is okay. I can paint yellow. I can paint in colors that sing like canaries until the spring comes.

Blue China and Glass

As soon as I finished Bookland, I wanted to do another still life. There is something especially rewarding in painting my own arrangement. Painting the things that I own deepens the experience as well. For example, the tea cup on the left is special; it was a wedding shower gift given to my grandmother some eighty years ago.

Late winter may be a dull time of year overall, but there is brilliance and beauty if you take the time to look for it.

Update: In May this piece was one of 48 out of 188 entries selected for Woodstock Art Gallery's 51st Annual Juried Exhibition, Visual Elements. This was a thrilling first for me!

Journeys Through Bookland

I have been collecting china tea cups on and off for years, planning to do more still life compositions similar to the first painting that I did over thirteen years ago. Tea cups and books. When I found the old children's book "Journeys Through Bookland", (printed in 1922) in a thrift store, I had the inspiration I needed.

This is a personal piece for me, representing some of my favorite simple pleasures. A pot of tea, something historical to read, a winter sunbeam and a sleepy cat. The title of the book is important as well, since nearly every day for me is a journey through book land; I work at two libraries.

Practically speaking, this was probably the most detailed piece I have ever done, taking many hours to complete. Wicker again! What was I thinking?! It measures 16" x 30", which for me is large.

And thank you Orville (the cat) for holding your pose while I arranged the pieces.

Crabapple Tea

For a long time, I had wanted to paint reflective glass. Like the distorted patterns found in waves or other reflective surfaces, painting glass is like entering the world of abstract art within a realistic painting. I once saw a painting done depicting a jumble of copper pots, as if it were the subject matter of a very difficult jigsaw puzzle. Looking carefully, I could see the artist herself reflected in a multitude of bizarrely distorted ways, stranger even than in a carnival mirror.

I chose a simple enough subject, yet was surprised by how detailed and complex it was to paint. Not easy, but satisfying.

Peppers

Sometimes I get the feeling that every artist at some point paints peppers. The colors are so saturated and reflective. Their shapes are interesting and composition potential is far reaching. So why not give it a try? This painting is quite small; not quite 5" x 8".

Coffee and Donut

This coffee break still life was constructed by another fine workshop instructor, John, alias Watercolourlover. At Wet Canvas, some artists are known better by their online nickname then by their real name. This was one of the reasons why meeting them in real life was so very interesting. Painting can be a lonely occupation, and yet many artists enjoy working in the company of others. We shared artistic tips and techniques, jokes, chocolate truffles, horseshoes (sort of), a pot luck , a barbeque, and a campfire, complete with a sing along. Many had eagerly looked forward to this event since Gail, or Strawberrywine, announced in January that she would be hosting this third annual 'Meet'.

When I look at this painting, finished after returning home, and the one of the loon, I am reminded of that great weekend. It was a very special time.

Baby Steps

I did one last magazine painting, this one bigger than the others, at a whopping 7x8". Each painting was taking more time as they became more complex, but it was so much fun. I had taken the baby steps to learn to trust myself again. Now I felt ready for some bigger steps. It was time to step out of the magazine.

Training Wheels

The limes painting was small, about 4x6", but it gave me confidence to try another. Take a step with the left foot, and then with the right foot, and then you are walking.

The magazine photos were my training wheels and I felt safe. I tried a more complex kitchen scene, also very small.

Debbie

Back around the time of my first painting, I had a friend named Debbie. As our kids played together, we cross stitched and read art magazines and dreamed of artistic success. We even did a craft show together, me with handwoven rag rugs, and Debbie with hand painted flower pots. Her pots were painted with her original 'country' motifs and were very popular. In fact, for several years Debbie would completely sell out at large craft shows. But they took a toll on her health. The weight of the terra cotta pots and the repetitive assembly line process was causing tendonitis and carpal tunnel syndrome. The work became boring and she was underchallenged.

I had seen the few paintings she had done, and knew she was capable of much more than 'cute cows on pots'. I kept encouraging her to aim higher, but for Debbie at that time there was always just one more show to do.

With my move to Ontario, we lost touch for a number of years, until one day out of the blue I called her up.

Well. Whatever it takes to become a recognized and successful fine artist, Debbie had done it. She had worked hard in those years, and had taken her talent to great heights. She taught painting classes, her work was published in a national art magazine, she had a waiting list for commissions, and she was represented in two prestigous galleries. She gave me her web site, and when I looked it up, I cried. Her paintings were so good. It was clearly Debbie's style, but the work had matured so much. Once we were a couple of painter-dabbler-wannabes. Debbie had taken a decade of determination and focus and work, and acheived the goal. I had not.

It made me think.

And the thinking lead to painting. A fresh start. New determination. Focus. Goals. And Debbie as my shining example.

More than a year after the Niagara-On-The-Lake painting, I tentatively took up the brush again. For a whole month I did nothing but paint color swatches. I was like a musician practicing scales. I think I was afraid of failure.

The day came however, when I saw a photo in a decorating magazine. A simple bowl of limes. It seemed basic enough. Maybe I could paint it............

Beginning to Paint

This is the blog of one emerging artist. All artists have beginnings. This is mine.......

As an only child until nearly 10, I learned to amuse myself. A favorite pastime was drawing, painting, using simple paints, crayons, pastels, and chalk. Art was my favorite class, and my work was sometimes used by teachers as an example for the other students to follow.

With high school came the difficult decision to choose one elective in the first year. I chose music over my beloved art, and joined the band. What with prerequisites and all, I never did study art in school after that. I don't regret learning the flute, however, and I still play from time to time.

The years flew by as I sewed, spun, knit, cross stitched, wove and raised a family. It wasn't until 1995 as a single mom in my mid thirties that the call to paint could no longer be ignored. I bought a calendar done by an artist in a painting style I admired, to see what would happen if I tried to copy her work. In a day and a half I had completed my first painting; a copy of a work by Marilyn Simandle, shown above.

It would be six years before I painted again.