Low-Tech Moments

Everyday something happens to make me appreciate painting even more. Early this morning, while sewing, my machine gave out a high pitched squeal. I got out my manual (only 20 pages long and in one language – English), and quickly found the page with instructions on cleaning and oiling the inner parts. The page had a full photograph of the inside of my machine. Removing only 2 screws, I opened the top, got out my needle nose oiling bottle, and dropped some oil into the holes indicated by arrows on the photo. Ten minutes later my machine was oiled and sounded just like new. “Wow,” I thought, “this was more fun than I’ve had in weeks.” Let’s compare this with yesterday’s saga - electric mayhem at home. In one day (I’m not kidding) our TV cable box blew, the house alarm’s 5 year battery went dead, and my computer refused to work properly. I needed to call the cable guy and the alarm company to send a repair person. Fortunately the computer got working after a small amount of my own prodding. This got me thinking about how appreciative I am that painting is low-tech. No repair man is necessary to help me with my painting. I feel a certain pang of pride when I whip out my drill to wire the backs of my paintings, or haul out the electric sander for smoothing surfaces. I do like machines. But now everything is so high-tech, manuals are incomprehensible volumes of worthless garble. Gone are those prideful “do-it-yourself” moments. My sewing machine and drill are both made of metal, are both over 22 years old, and still function wonderfully. Well, it’s a long shot that brushes and tubes of paint will ever get high-tech. I like my job. And just to celebrate my low-tech appreciation day, I ignored my car and walked to the neighborhood market for groceries.

Making an Acrylic Painting in Layers

Scroll down to the next posting and press the play button to see a video demonstration of me creating an acrylic painting in layers. Here is a unique way to paint a landscape using new acrylic techniques and unusual layering approaches. This video was taken from my presentation on Home & Garden’s Television Network (HGTV) show “That’s Clever” in October 2006.

Click here for step-by-step explanations not contained in the video.

Making an Acrylic Painting in Layers

Getting Feedback

It’s so great to get good feedback on your work! That’s why I like having a critique group. I asked a few artist friends to get together once a month to share current work – finished or not – and to get some comments. This group has been continuing to meet for the past 3 years, and we have all gained so much from the interaction. Most artists are comfortable seeing and commenting on work-in-process, while non-artists tend to have problems understanding the “in-process” part unless the work is finished. By meeting regularly everyone gets to see your work over a long period, and so the comments get even more worthwhile and valuable.

The advantage of having a critique group is that you no longer have to get those worthless comments on your work – like from relatives, non-artist friends, gallery owners, and spouses or significant others. These comments from those who do not understand visual language will not be helpful at all. The disadvantage is that too many comments may block your progress, so it’s important not to bring work that’s still in infancy, and to wait until it has coalesced into a substantial image.

In my group we have a system that works well for us. There are about 6 of us, and we meet for about 3 hours in the morning, once a month, at my studio. Each person takes a turn by putting one piece up by itself. If an artist has several pieces to show, each piece is still seen separately unless it’s part of a series. We set a timer for one minute for everyone to be silent and just look at the painting. We found that without this step some fast reaction folks yell out their comments before someone else who needs more time can formulate their own opinion. It also keeps the artist from feeling like they need to talk about, defend or otherwise comment on their work. In our group the artist doesn’t need to tell their story – the “critters” aren’t interested in it, at least at first – and don’t want to cloud their view. After all, if you want feedback on your painting wouldn’t you prefer hearing what someone thinks without your influence? After the one minute beeper goes off we just take turns, one person at a time, saying opinions. We avoid comments such as “I like it, I don’t like it, It needs some red over there”. Instead we concentrate on the overall impact, and any visual impediments to movement and focus. Each person has vastly different work than the next, and it doesn’t matter whether you prefer that type of work or not – it only matters whether you think that artist has succeeded in doing what they set out to do. The BEST part of this whole process is that we end up “mirroring” our own individual creative needs by commenting. For instance, when an individual from the group makes a comment on another artist’s work that’s on display, it almost always turns out to be a key issue in their own work.

Art Attack Puppet Show

My Broadcast Puppet Theater presented "Art Attack", a comic performance satirizing the "art world", in July at my Santa Fe studio. For those of you who missed it, here it is below!

"Art Attack" Puppet Show Video

My Painting Process Cycles

Someone once asked me if I go to my studio every day, or do I wait until I FEEL creative. It got me thinking and I came up with an idea about my creative process. I discovered that there are three different cycles in my process: Beginning, Continuing and Completion. (This may seem oversimplified – but identifying them really helped me get more productive in my studio.) The trick for me is that each cycle requires a different type of energy. Beginning requires an energy about freedom, continuing requires faith, and completion requires an energy about healing.

So, in answer to that first question, I do go to my studio (almost) every day, regardless of how I feel. BUT, when I get to my studio, I decide what to work on depending on how I feel. So the feeling of creativity takes on many guises. Sometimes I want to try out all new things, or I have lots of active energy and feel like doing many experiments. I always have lots of extra canvases and surfaces around (even a stack of cardboard will do) and I may launch several to a dozen new underpaintings or start-up paintings in one day.

Sometimes I feel overwhelmed that I have too many projects, and just want to get into a sort of meditative or hypnotic type of working state. Then I turn all my canvases around so I can’t see the images, pick one of these to work on, and just focus my attention on that one particular painting. I can stay in one spot and just concentrate. This “continuing” phase is the toughest for me. Often the work has lost its initial surprise excitement, and hasn’t yet become something cohesive, so I just need to trust and have faith that by working on it one step at a time, one area at a time, it will start to form. Therefore, this stage requires faith.

Let’s say in a typical two month period of time, 60% of my painting days are spent doing beginnings (most of my energy loves fresh starts and new experiments), 35% of my days are spent doing the “continuing” part, and only 5% does the finish. That’s the last of the three, the completion phase. This takes a very particular type of energy. On these very valuable and rare days, I can see clearly what each painting needs to make it really soar. I will give that last finishing touch to several on one day – finishing them all! Then I go out and celebrate. It’s more difficult for me to work on one painting through all its cycles by itself. For me, having lots of other paintings to work on simultaneously takes the “attachment” factor out of working on just one. And then I can put my energy to its best use. When I have a commission to paint, I will paint it all the way through, but still take breaks to play on some other ones to keep the juices flowing. I find it easiest to work on one cycle for the whole day, and not switch. For instance if I spend several hours flinging paint in a freedom engaged session of “starts” I will not be as adept on that same day to try to finish a painting or two.