Archives for September 2019

It was one of those days… and late nights. I’d had a packed, busy month, with lots of classes and events, getting home after 11:00 pm far more often than I liked, and had also been painting daily for 20 straight days as part of a 30-day daily painting challenge. Now, while a daily painting practice is certainly good for building discipline, sometimes it’s more of a challenge than others.

Here’s what happened: After a day of wrestling with my websites, I finally got into the studio planning to relax by finishing up a simple little pear painting. Having had a long and arduous day, and a fine shipment from the wine club having just come in, I took with me some (ahem) liquid refreshment. A little music, a sip of wine, a little painting… sounds lovely, no? Uh-huh. As you may have guessed, things did not go as planned. 

Somehow, mid-painting, I managed to knock down my glass, sending the contents (which I had just poured, by the way, so right off the bat there’s a waste of some really good wine!) splashily over – onto my palette, my board, all over my table, and the still life setup. Well, fine. We’ll just clean that up, keep going…. umm, nope. While mopping that up, I dropped my paint-saver palette onto the carpet – butter side down. Awesome!  Well, let’s just get some brush cleaner on that and…. Nope, again. As I was picking *that* up, I dropped the actual canvas board, also butter side down.  Words were spoken.

To add insult to injury, as I was blotting my poor, damp, half-finished painting, I somehow knocked my oversized mixing board off my table, and yes, you guessed it, it also did not land right-side-up… giving me the sterling opportunity to step back into the paint I had previously gotten on the carpet with my palette. *sigh*

So. Let’s review, shall we? My carpet has paint on it, my palette has hairy carpet fibers in it, my mixing board is hopelessly smudged, my painting has red wine on it, I have (cadmium red!) paint-laden footprints staggering backward from the easel, my pears have paint on them, and – quel tragique! – I have no wine in me! 

Welp. Some days you should stay in bed.

What a comedy of errors! Was I channeling Buster Keaton? I had to laugh – and I’m chuckling again as I write this. I remember thinking, “I seriously should just stop before I hurt myself!” – wait, what? stop? That’s something I never do! “But but but but but….” my inner painting drill sergeant spluttered, “you’re NOT FINISHED YET!”

Ah. True. But, I had gotten something done (besides making a mess of my studio), and though my inner painting drill sergeant wanted to insist I suck it up and power through, I decided to do something really productive instead.

I took a break. I cleaned up, closed the palette, dipped my brushes, turned off the lights, bade goodnight to the pears and said good evening to a replacement glass of wine. I was prepared for my Inner Painting Drill Sergeant to assault me with feelings of guilt. But you know what? It was fine. I wasn’t trying to finish the painting for an exhibition, a commission, a workshop or a demo. I had no outside commitment to fulfill, beyond the daily painting practice which one could argue I had (so elegantly!) completed for the day. (Nothing about that practice said every day must result in a finished painting.)

So perhaps the question to ask here was “Isn’t it important, along with knowing when to push yourself, to know when to stop?” I confess that is something I struggle with. I have been called “one-speed Casey” for my tendency to jump in with both feet and swim (or hike, or pedal) like hell until the goal is achieved. On a good day, I might call that perseverance. On a not-so-good day, it could read as impulsiveness – or impatience. Or stubbornness. That insistence on completion (and speed!) and wish for mastery (and excellence, right now, dang it!) can result in good work habits, lots of study, sustained effort, and tangible results. However, when overplayed, it can also result in… shall we say, overly spontaneous?… pieces… and even exhaustion. Which, in my case, apparently leads to a marked lack of coordination.

An overly full mind and overly tired body are not the best way to accomplish your best work. It can result in rushed, sloppy compositions, inaccurate value structure, poor color mixes, bad brushwork (shudder.) While there is always pressure to do more, to succeed, to be better, it’s also true that in our hyper-connected, screen-driven, urban, electronic world, we can lose track of how best to do that. Sometimes the best way to power through is to not power through. The Tao says, “The Way is ever without acting, yet nothing is left undone.” To put it in a more mundane way, our minds and bodies – and spirits – all need rest from time to time.  Our job is to not only push to be our best selves, but to recognize that need, and to give ourselves permission, at least sometimes, to take that time. Everyone needs a day – or a night – off now and then. 

Even one-speed Casey.

“…Show the whole world that you are not afraid. Be silent, if you choose; but when it is necessary, speak – and speak in such a way that people will remember it.” 

– Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

In my previous post, I reflected on the 3 things I would like to see in my plein air paintings, and on which I concentrate during the painting process. Over the years I have decided my plein air pieces should communicate a particular moment or fleeting experience, that they should exude a sense of place, and that my energy and passion about my subject would be translated right into the paint. This is what I think about while I am painting outside en plein air. In this post, I’m thinking about the three elements that  I’d like to see in all of my paintings, whether they be created in the studio, or outdoors.

I strive to focus continually on what I am actually making: a painting.  I love paint. I love the way it moves, the ways it combines, shifts, grades, piles, skims, washes and flows in luscious, semi-opaque and transparent layers across the paper, canvas and linen.

And I’m focused on discovering subjects I would love to paint; not only their overt shapes, colors, and appearance but the essential character of each. I often find that my attraction to a subject is tied intimately with its possibilities for design. Certainly, as a representational artist, I would like my subject to be recognizable, but more than that, my goal for my painted subject is that it be remarkable in some way, and true to my feeling for and experience with it. I believe that the universe we see is a shadow of a greater and yet more beautiful kingdom, which may be made visible to us if we simply look for it, and with a desire to fully appreciate and understand it. Beginning with my choices of subject matter, I would like my work to reflect my beliefs.

“Artistic growth is, more than anything else, a refining of the sense of truthfulness.”

– Willa Cather

Lots of paintings are created that look like “the thing” itself, but how much more challenging (and enjoyable!) it is to do a painting that is something new, or interpret a common subject in an innovative way, or better yet, communicates an original idea that is worthy of sharing with others. I want to sing this song in my own voice. I believe that is what will instill authenticity in my designs, and not merely depict the physical details of what superficially appears to me. I want to make the invisible visible. That’s what makes it truthful, for me to genuinely express how I see the world, and why.

“Paradise is to love many things with a passion.”

– Pablo Picasso

Secondly, I would like the same ingredient that I want to maintain during the painting process—call it “feeling,” or passion, or emotion—to appear in the final result. I believe that this is the most important thing I can do as an artist: to express my feelings about the subject in a way that would communicate itself to the viewer, in my color selection, energetic brush strokes, and in every aspect of design.

To do that, I need to bring love to my easel: love for painting, for my subject, for the act of creating. It could be the most important thing I do in preparing to paint.  In fact, I have spoken to many collectors who tell me that it was the feeling they had when they first looked at a painting that drew them in and ultimately encouraged them to purchase it. It seems that the truth of an artist’s experience is conveyed on one level through fundamental skills, and on another in how those skills are authentically translated by his/her passion for what is being created. I say “authentically” because I do believe that it is only through the specific, unique voice of each artist that great artworks are created. What is art for, if it is not to interact with others in sharing both the unique qualities and universality of our experiences?

“The beauty of the universe consists not only of unity in variety, but also of variety in unity.”

– Umberto Eco

That brings me to the third element that I strive to bring to my painting, with each thought, at every stage, and through each brushstroke: variety that expresses beauty. Thank God that there is such a variety of artworks that have been created throughout history, and yet today! Perhaps that mirrors the abundant variety of life experiences across the globe, in continents and nations, and in the lives of every individual who has ever drawn breath… and the fact that beauty exists everywhere when one searches to discover it. Variety is truly the spice of life: that’s what makes it interesting, complex, profound, and even incomprehensible. A life of rote repetition is a spare one. Artworks that reflect the variety to be experienced in life speak to us, through contrasts of dark and light, control and spontaneity, line and form, objective and subjective color, the observed and the emotional, realism and abstraction, mind and heart. No two clouds or trees are the same, no brushstroke imitates another, no painting is a duplicate.

But scattered statements in themselves have no unified impact. I have been thinking that what unifies the body of work of a great artist is how that artist handles the variety of options that face him or her at the start of every painting. It isn’t that the artist chooses the same subject to paint every time, uses the same palette, or always does this or that in the painting process. It’s that the artist allows the soul to be expressed in each work, in the way it needs to be expressed. That means giving one’s self permission to listen to the inner voice no matter what, despite what other artists are doing, what collectors are buying, or what is “in “ at the time, or even nagging feelings of self-doubt. “Ultimately,” says Joe Paquet, “we need to cultivate self-trust.” Artwork created in one’s own voice produces unity in everything that an artist creates. And that’s more than simply artistic “style”: that is the truest expression of one’s creative existence.

I hope I might be succeeding, in some degree, at making each of the three elements—truth, passion, and variety—integral to each of the artworks I create. And I have had some sage guidance provided to me by artists both here and gone as I strive to do so. I would like to leave you with an (incomplete) roster of these artists—historical masters and contemporary– that have inspired me in working with these three elements in my own painting. I wish you the very best as you strive to create your very best paintings. See you at the easel.

Truth:  Zufar Bikbov, Carl Bretzke, Roger Dale Brown, Josh Clare, Nathan Fowkes, Kimball Geisler, Winslow Homer, Charlie Hunter, Michelle Jung, Laurie Kersey, Yuri Krotov, Isaac Levitan, Calvin Liang, John MacDonald, Michael Obermeyer, Joe Paquet, Norman Rockwell, John Singer Sargent, Randy Sexton, Mian Situ, Matt Smith, Ken Spencer, Colley Whisson, James Whistler, William Suys, Jr…

Passion: Peter Adams, Jill Basham, Jill Carver, Frank Frazetta, George Inness, Quang Ho, Ruo Li, Michael Malm, C.W. Mundy, Tibor Nagy, Devin Michael Roberts, Jason Sacran, Jeff Sewell, Joaquin Sorolla, Vincent Van Gogh, N.C. Wyeth, Joseph Zbukvic…

Variety:  Eric Bowman, John Burton, Mike Hernandez, Mark Kerckhoff, Chuck Kovacic, Kevin Macpherson, Angus McEwan, Jim McVicker, Larry Moore, Ned Mueller, Patrick Saunders, Bryan Mark Taylor, William Wray…

These are the gifts that painting gives to the world.

One of the first things I hear from new social media friends is, ‘Wow, you really get around!’ I’m absolutely sure they mean this in the kindest possible way and are referring to how much I post about my travels on the road. Yes, I’m a dedicated road tripper, just like so many artists I love and visit during my travels!

From the road, I experience so much more, so many things I would miss flying over, so many reference photos for future studio paintings! From Calais, Maine to Chula Vista, California, from Neah Bay and the Makah Reservation in Washington state to Naples, Florida, up both coast highways and everything in between, the time investment has been so worth it.

This year has been a little different. As many of you know, the pristine areas surrounding Florida’s Mexico Beach and the Forgotten Coast were devastated in 2018 by hurricane Michael. Many artists came together to raise over $100,000 in just over one week in relief. It was amazing! In helping with these efforts I met so many beautiful souls, such generous artists. So, this year I agreed to travel to the Forgotten Coast for Plein Air South and pitch in once more. I brought oils, pastels, gouache, and watercolors in my little Prius. A girl can never have too many art supplies, right?

The first leg began with meandering through Texas Hill Country. Dodging thunderstorms is easy when you have a full week and a car to just play it by ear! I stopped at every scenic spot, beautiful gallery and museum, made many new friends and collected so many painting references.

Heading from San Antonio to Houston and then hugging the coastline through New Orleans, Louisianna, I finally arrived at our little VRBO beach house in Port St. Joe, Florida. What a gorgeous piece of earth!

Week two was spent working with world-class artists who came in to teach and paint. Spending hours volunteering, painting, and having a glass of wine on the porch with my new Steel Magnolia friends are things I will never forget.

As Plein Air South closed, week three began while driving down the Florida Gulf Coast route, through every picturesque beach town, island and mangrove field along the way gathering reference photo after reference photo! I stopped by the new studio of Heather Arenas and marveled at her incredible oil figure paintings. The southern end of the road was Naples this trip. My brain and camera were full and I still had the trip home!

Now that I’m back, its time to put all this travel to good use in the studio! My website will be filling up this winter as I work to interpret all I’ve experienced from this Florida road trip, as well as a second journey from California to Idaho in July to learn from the unique abstract perspective of artist Larry Moore and complete my 48 state continental journey.

As I sit here writing this blog and finishing up a painting to submit to OPA, I’m thinking to myself… are you bored or do you ever feel ‘stuck’ or in a rut with your art?

Try getting out on the road again!

Shouldn’t it be the goal of painters to reveal themselves in their work? To be known because of their work? And by that I don’t mean to be famous, (like “Look at me! I’m so great and everyone knows it!”) as much as I mean to be understood – as in the idea that all paintings are a kind of self-portrait of the painter,  revealing the artist’s inner being in subtle ways. If the artist is true to himself or herself while painting, the viewer is then invited into the painting to look beyond the surface of the skill level of the painter, thereby getting to know something about the artist.

We all spend a great deal of time, perhaps many years, learning of the fundamentals of art, design, and painting. In most of our early work, nothing of ourselves is in it, because we’re too busy perfecting our skills. And this presents a problem, because it is tempting to merely paint to our skill level, (without a thought of how to express what’s really inside of us), with the hopes of selling the painting. For me, at some point that idea started changing, and slowly I was becoming less concerned about painting the WHAT and HOW of it;  rather, I found myself thinking about what I really wanted to say in the work. Strangely, in doing this, I started noticing that more people were asking me “Why?” questions instead of “How?” questions. So then I could get into real conversations with the viewer about what the work was about, rather than about the skill involved in creating it. Hence, my inner self started to show in my work. And the evolution continues. 

So how do we make the jump from doing pretty paintings which merely show great skills and that please everyone, to paintings that go beyond all this and help the viewer understand and get to know the painter? Well, here are some thoughts on that:

Paint What You Love! 

Why waste time painting a subject or an idea you aren’t absolutely crazy about? You have to be excited about what you’re going to paint. If you LOVE what you’re painting, and have an emotional connection to it, then your viewer will too. I find myself gravitating to everything that often goes unnoticed – such as a vacant field, a broken down truck, a moment in time between friends, thrift store finds,  old architecture that is on its last legs, and reminders of the old West – horses, cows, and horsemen. For some reason, my heart just goes to these things, and in the finished painting, I hope my viewer sees that. You know which subjects you love – stick to them!

Often, commissions aren’t the most enjoyable to do, and one reason for this is that we are usually not fully interested in a client choosing what we will be painting. The minute you’re painting for someone else, YOU are not in your work. Often the necessity of making a living does come into play, and I understand that. Don’t ever feel you have to paint in a certain style or choose specific subjects for an upcoming show – this makes painting tedious and not enjoyable. Your viewer will see that. Be true to yourself.

Your Palette – Limit it!

Having too many colors on your palette can cause great confusion. What color should I use? Should I mix it with something else? If so, what? And why? Well, if the artist is confused, then surely the viewer is too! We’ve all done it – bought the new colors of the year because they are soooo beautiful. We fill drawers with colors that are gorgeous, but we never use them. We just look at them and say, “I can’t wait to use you!” But we usually don’t! The point I need to make here is that color theory is so complicated and probably takes a lifetime to fully understand. You are more likely to have success in your paintings by limiting your palette. I use a modified Zorn palette (titanium white, ivory black, yellow ochre, and cad red light; with the minor additions of thalo blue, cad yellow light. a cool red, and ultramarine blue). This is nothing more than a palette of a warm and a cool of each primary, plus both the value and neutralizing changers of black and white. Try it! You’ll find harmony in this. Your viewer will too, even though they might not realize it.

Make Some Marks!

Mark making is everything. The artist’s hand, and therefore what’s inside of him/her, is revealed in brushwork. It is through the visible marks in a painting that you get to know the artist. No, the entire painting need not be made up of thick strokes which are prominent. Rather, the artist strategically decides where to place the most visible strokes, whether they are of thicker paint, or of a contrasting color, value or size, in order to draw the viewer in. To have one level of paint where no brush strokes are visible can be boring, containing no hint of who the artist really is. When in doubt, add more brushstrokes. Wiping off paint is sometimes ok, but often the better idea is to lay more paint on. 

What you think and feel is revealed by your art, therefore revealing a great deal of who you really are. If you love your painting, and transmit that feeling in a subject you love, using a harmonious palette and intentional marks, others will see that and not only love your work, but also feel a connection with you.