Under the noisy vent

I have nice bright windows facing a busy street, where I can watch the weather change and see the occasional drug deal.  It’s a nice place to spend the day — a little drama and some clouds.  But my windows don’t open!  So, my encaustic set up is in the very back of my studio where we were able to install a vent hood.  The advantage is that by spending my day in a windowless room, I’ve broken my watercolor obsession with light.  The disadvantage is that I don’t know when a tornado is bearing down on me.  More on that another time.

I spent some time this week organizing my work area.  It takes time — years in my case — to figure out the best layout for tools.  I have to reach for things a hundred times and learn what I need before things finally fall into their natural location. I’ll figure it out about the time I go back to casein.  This is working as long as I work fairly small.  I’m sure I’ll eventually want to try larger pieces. 

Two steps forward….

As the wax shavings were piling up yesterday, I thought about the rhythm of my progress.  I bet I’m not alone in this.  I didn’t realize there is a definite pattern to learning until I started working with encaustic.

After many years in watercolor, I started experimenting with casein.  This was a few years ago and I felt like a coward.  I’d struggle with casein for a month or so, creating one good painting followed by two failures, then run screaming back to watercolor.  It was such a relief to get back to something I could DO!  I remember melting into my watercolor chair and letting the tension drain.  Gradually, my skills developed and with more consistency, I spent longer periods of time working with casein.  It took a couple of years to reach the point when I went back to watercolor with regret.

I considered and studied encaustic for a long time before buying the supplies and setting up ventilated area.  There is more expense and more layout concerns with this medium.  To my surprise, I followed the same pattern of learning.  As excited and commited as I was to encaustic, I had trouble sticking with it for too long.  At one point, I dropped it totally for a year or so — it seemed almost irresponsible to spend so much time on a medium that was totally kicking my tail.

I’m back to it now and I feel a deep commitment to it , finally.  And I see my reoccurring pattern.  I’m constantly amazed by what my art experiences teach me — about myself but also about all of us.  Comfort level matters in personal growth as much as the courage to explore.  I don’t think I can have one without respecting the other. 

Finished…maybe…

The key to finishing is quitting.  Just quit painting for a while….and that is different from stopping!  Quitting doesn’t mean you can’t go back to the piece tomorrow or next week, but quitting early is tons better than later.  In the beginning, the only way I knew I was finished was when I had done one thing too many - and was sorry.  I would nudge a painting forward and only knew I should stop when the painting WAS right an hour ago.

It’s a common dilemma and experience helps the most.  That’s why I tell people to just paint.  Paint, paint, paint until you’ve made every mistake you can — then think of new challenges so you can make new mistakes to learn from.

As far as when a painting is finished, I don’t know the answer.  I only know what is right for me.  When I start to lose my momentum and doubt starts to creep in then I know I need to step away from the painting.  I will actually sit with the brush hover over the piece and get anxious.  I now know that I’m searching for something to do so I can keep working on a painting that I’ve become friendly with - a clear sign that the end is near.

Another trick I use is to have a new piece drawn and hovering on the edge of the table.  It’s easier to wind up a piece if I have another I’m excited about working on.

It’s all about tricking ourselves —- into making good decisions and staying focused.  I’ve learned what works for me - most of the time anyway!

The mask is off

Learning to work with interruptions is an art in itself!  I’ve had a ton of distractions while working on this little piece.  I managed to get a few hours to remove the masking and start building some detail.  I’m building form in some places in others I’m deciding how to get some interesting contrast — where to push a light against a dark and vice versa.

So many decisions are made while actually painting.  I plan ahead a little and pretend I have a plan but it only serves to give me confidence to start a painting session.  Most decisions are made intuitively while painting without a lot of thought!  Not all of them work out but the best choices are the ones that flow onto the board — so I jump in an hope for the best.

Starting a new casein

I’m starting the third casein in this group.  On day one I did the drawing on primed illustration board (acid-free) and blocked in the major shape.  Yesterday I defined more shapes so I can consider the overall composition.  I’ll tie a lot of these details together with a wash later but for now I want to get an idea of what is IN this composition.  I’m thinking about what I’ll keep, change, focus on, and kill.

I’ll probably mask the major shape so I can build a strong sky.  Working around all these little shapes with casein paint would be difficult.  It dries so quickly and blending can be awkward.  Casein paint doesn’t “move” easily on the board.  The minute I lay the brush on the board it is drying  - even while I pick up more paint on the palette.  It takes a special touch that I have some days but not others!

I’m enjoying the casein work but keep thinking about going back to watercolor for a  while.  I’ll either change subjects and stay with casein or pull out a big piece of watercolor paper and get back in to that groove.

A little faith helps….

This is the third session for this little piece so it is making less sense rather than more at this point.  Casein is a very weird medium, if you ask me.  Moving the paint around takes practice and a certain touch that is easier on some days.  A lot of the drawing details and shadows aren’t added yet - I’m trying to build form on the two grain silos (or whatever these amazing, huge cylinders are).  As I paint from the dark side to the light….or the other way around….it is difficult to keep the change gradual.  There is no “flow” with casein even though it is a waterbased medium - like with watercolor, for instance.

And to work in a watermedia but opaquely is odd to me, probably because I was a watercolorist for so many years and am more comfortable dealing with transparent color.

So we’ll see where this one goes.  The middle development of a painting reminds me of the teenage years — I’m pretty sure where I’m going but I could fall off a cliff at any minute.  I’m either exuberant or depressed right until the piece starts to click and I’m able to be more objective.

I’m never truly objective but it’s always the goal.

Going through the motions

It’s the title of this painting….and sometimes exactly what I need to do!  It’s comforting, reassuring, and can border on boring BUT I really think it works.

My focus has always been to keep working.  Right or wrong, if in doubt….I paint.  I might not feel creative or inspired but I have a choice to make.  I can stare at the blank sheet and freeze, leave the studio and eat Cheetos (fill in your blank here…), or I can paint.

I feel like I’ll learn something if I’m working — maybe a new technique will emerge or an unexpected color combination will bump up against each other.  Maybe I’ll feel energized by my subject after fifteen minutes — or maybe I’ll get sick enough of what I’m doing to actually DO something different tomorrow.

Whatever happens, I’ll be a step or two down the road.  So if going through the motions is the best I can do today, well, there is no reason to leave the studio.  I turn the music a little louder, adjust the blinds, and pick up the brush.  If I’m lucky, I’ll look at the clock in a couple of hours and wonder where the time went and why my muscles are sore from sitting so long.

And usually that’s exactly what happens.  Of course, I do stop for Cheetos - there is a sprinkling of Cheeto dust in almost every painting.  Magic dust.

Change is good

I’m excited about my new web presence.  I”ve been an artist long enough now to appreciate the need for change.  For instance, I’m in an airport right now, waiting for a flight, and updating my website.  This is good.

When I started working full time as an artist, one of the first things I did was go to a printer and have a thousand business cards made.  Then, I created a brochure and had a ton of them printed - and of course, they needed updating long before I used all of them.  I sat at Mall art shows, handing out printed material and making appointments with people to see more paintings in my dining room!  And even then, I noticed the artists who fell out of touch.

I also saw the need to enjoy my painting AND my interaction with the public.  I believe being an artist involves more than creating the work.  I have to admit, in the last few years I’ve gotten lazy about communicating.  I put priority on painting and there are so many demands on my time in recent years — some things have fallen through the cracks.

I actually enjoy writing about my work and communicating about it.  Answering questions helps me formulate my ideas and rethink my opinions.  Explaining technique is always a good thing — for me as well as the artist on the other end of the comversation.  We all learn from each other.

So I’m excited about this blog/facebook/twitter approach.  PLEASE give me feedback.  I need to know what is working and not working.  Email me at dana.danabrown@gmail.com