The Devilish Details

Well Art Fans, we are less than a week and a half away from my annual show. Nearly every painting is framed and arranged—except for these small four pieces. Remember this "quadtych"? I love working with these small 5" X 5" canvases. 

A couple of years ago, my handy husband dreamed up a clever display method for these cute little canvases that I'd like to share with you. Borne out of necessity (a frame would cost how much?), I love this simple, yet elegant solution.

He cuts 3/4" X 3/4" strips of wood and joins them together to create a square. Then, he makes a hanger by bending a piece of metal (to just the right angle) and inserts it into the wood square. Once affixed to the back of the canvas, magically--ok, I know there are physics involved--the painting hangs flush to the wall.

These "backframes" (which probably have a real name) give these diminutive pieces just the right amount of presentation panache.

Now that Clint has done his part, I need to finish my end of the deal before he can mount the backframes onto the paintings. Since the pieces extend from the wall and the edges will not be covered with a frame, the raw edges must be finished off AND the backs of the canvases must be painted. So, I need to mix up colors to continue the images around the wrap of the canvas; and sign them, varnish them, and voila!

When you are here for the show, be sure to take one of these off the wall and check out his handiwork.

You are coming to the show, right?

SOLD!

I'm excited to announce I've already made my first sale. Or pre-sale, I guess. A good friend who isn't able to come to the show fell in love with one of the pieces I showed you here, California Dreaming. Now it's hers. Yippee!

If there is a painting that has been haunting you and you cannot make it to my show (November 3, 1 pm), please contact me if you are interested.

See you soon!

Come One, Come All

I know I’ve been MIA lately. Life has been hectic and painting time virtually non-existent. In the snippets of spare time I do have, I am preparing for the show—which will be FABULOUS!

We’re coming up on the home stretch with the event now being less than four weeks away. We’re matting and framing and labeling and cleaning like crazy.

Over the weekend, I created more than 75 greeting cards. This year you're going to see something very different. Each card is hand assembled with loving care. I don’t know what I was thinking—this really takes a lot of time! However, I think you will be pleased with the result.

I would like to personally extend an invitation to all of you to my annual show. If for some reason you are not on my mailing list or want to be on my mailing list, or need directions to the show, please drop me an email at skearns@linkline.com.

See you at the show!

Saturday, November 3^rd, 2012

1 pm

'til the food and firewood are spent

5260 Desert View Lane

Wrightwood, CA

Simple Shapes, Brilliant Color

Sunset Nectarines

10" X 8"

Acrylic on Canvas

Already, I’m feeling the pressure as we begin to frame pieces for the show. This piece is evidence of that; it’s framed already!

Over last week’s long weekend, I had a glorious day of painting, painting, and more painting. I touched-up and varnished one piece and then started and completed this painting. It’s not often that I get an extended block of painting time like that. These luscious nectarines had been taunting me for a few days, rich and ripe and screaming with brilliant sunset corals, reds, and oranges. I just had to paint them. 

This was a “flow” painting. All the art forces are in perfect alignment, and the painting just magically pours out of me somehow while I loll in color and texture. Ahhh. These kinds of paintings feel so good--especially after I’ve struggled with a piece.

On another note, I’m making prints and note cards in preparation for the show. I’m printing with archival inks on fine art paper and so far, they are looking good. Let me know if there are paintings you are especially fond of to help me decide which to print. I’ll be making prints in 5 x 7, 8 x 10, 9 x 12, and 16 x 20. If there is something specific you want, just send me an email.

Until next time…

California Dreaming, Again

California Dreaming

24" x 18"

Acrylic on Canvas

Like a repetitive dream, the back roads of California have an ancient familiarity to me. It’s as if I’ve known these rolling hills strewn with dark oaks for hundreds of years. Maybe I sat on the back of a wagon and watched this landscape roll by in another lifetime. All I know is when I come across places like the one in this painting; it feels like my most comfortable pair of shoes. It’s home. Maybe not the home I will always have, but the deep comfort of something that is a part of you.

The colors of this painting are very different from what you might typically see from me. There are no pines, no mountains, and no expanse of desert. So, it was an interesting challenge to capture the burnt dry grasses of the hills and the deep shadows cast by dense oaks. I think I got it‑‑though the shadows were surely elusive. As elusive as the remnants of that dream you know you’ve had so many times before that you just can’t quite recall.

Only the Shadow Knows

Here is a snippet of the painting. 

As you see, the shadow is very dark--too dark!
Can you see my frustration in the brushwork?

Work on California Dreaming continues, though the painting has taken a turn on me (like I had nothing to do with it). I'm not sure where the piece will go next. It’s that darn shadow. I'm struggling to nail down the right colors and values and I haven't found the magic combination.

All these years of mixing paint you'd think I would have figured it out by now. Yet more often than not, finding the right color and value is akin to herding cats. What makes it so difficult? Color is affected by surrounding color. You can mix up a shade of “shadowish” on your palette that looks perfect, but once you put brush to canvas it’s suddenly too dark, too light, too green, too gray, or some other color catastrophe.

Coincidentally I watched my student Morgan struggle with the same thing this week. Studiously she mixed and mixed—serious brow furrow in place—adding a dab of blue, a dribble of medium, a little more cadmium red, a touch of white. Her shoulders relaxed as she achieved the perfect color. She smiled and moved the brush to the canvas to place the perfect glob of paint.

“OH!”

Big sigh. "That's not what I wanted!"

Mix, mix, smear, scrape, mix, wipe, rinse, swirl.

“There! That’s much lighter.” Confidently she dabbed the canvas with the amended color.

“OH!”

“That looks almost the same as the last color!”

After about the fourth “OH!” we started to laugh about it. Finally, she found what she was looking for.

At one point I told her, "Mix it beyond what you think you is right. Make it lighter, darker, cooler, or warmer."

Hmmm. Maybe I should follow my own advice.

California Dreaming

­

"TBD"

Just a few hours into a new painting

24" X 18"

Acrylic on canvas

Stealing time to paint has been a challenge lately. The urge is strong and the studio is a siren singing me back to this painting. I return for a moment here and there to look at it. I yearn to squeeze out just a little color—please just a little—and grab a brush—just for a little bit—but it seems there’s always something else that needs done, someone else I have to call, again.

My dreams are filled with colors laid against one another and elements rearranged over and over. I’m analyzing value and composition of dream paintings that are never quite the one I’m working on. I’m anxious about mixing colors. Warmer? No, cooler, with maybe a touch of alizarin. I’m not resting because my mind is busy painting.

Even though I just started this piece, I wanted to share what I have so far. We’ll see how it develops together. This image is from a trip we took last summer when we explored the area around Domeland Wilderness, pre-planning for our fall backpack trip.

Out west of Kennedy Meadows and northeast of Kernville there is a swathe of old and classic California.  Rolling hills dressed in velvety grasses bleached gold in the hot summer sun. A narrow road cuts and curves around ancient oaks with dense canopies of leaves that cast deep shadows.

Do you hear that? My studio calls.

Show Time!

Believe it or not; it’s that time again.
I’ve started preparing for my show and have actually set a date. 

So, get out those calendars and pen in 
(no pencils—this is a firm commitment):

Saturday, November 3, 2012 

Invitations won’t go out until the end of the month, however I like to let my loyal blog followers know as far ahead as possible, in case you aren’t on the mailing list and would like to be added (hint: email me! skearns@linkline.com).

From now until then I’ll be matting, framing, printing, and prepping pieces while still trying to squeeze in art and hiking and camping—plus the day job and freelance projects. Funny, I just had a conversation with Clint about how I try to cram in too much stuff in too little time…

The image at the top is a first run of new greeting cards that I’ll be offering. I will also have smaller archival prints of selected pieces. Early in the year, I had plans to set up an online portal for my prints and cards, but that hasn’t come to fruition yet—some day in the future it will happen.

 OK, this guy got a little wild, but I think his box 'o fruit juice might have fermented.

If you haven’t been to one of my shows, well, you don’t know what you are missing. It’s the social event of the year and you are guaranteed to have a good time. We like to think of it as a big ole party where there’s art. Don’t worry, no one swings from the chandeliers or anything. You’ll meet interesting people and experience our beautiful mountains while you nosh on some nummies, and sip tea or champagne.

The Reveal

I almost hate to tell you the title of this piece because I loved the different interpretations so much! Thank you for sharing them. That’s what I love about non-objective art; it means something different to each person.

My student Morgan continues to explore making non-objective art. This genre has freed her to play with color, value, texture, and composition without worrying about making something look like something. The result? She completed a piece during her lesson this past week that was stunning. I wish I’d taken a photograph of it to share with you. She is a natural. I’m so very proud of her.

Returning to the title of the piece from my last post…as I worked on this monotype, the idea that came to me was “Swimming Upstream”; because that’s what life feels like some days. Some days I'm a fingerling swimming like hell against the current, dodging the flotsam swirling my way.

Waxing Non-Objectively

"To Be Revealed"

9" X 12"

Monotype

As I brought the photograph of this image up onto the computer screen, Clint said, “Uh oh”. 

You see, for me non-objective or abstract* pieces are an expression of extreme emotion. Often, they express negative emotions: anger, fear, betrayal, loss. There were a few years there where I was doing a lot of abstract pieces—and I mean a lot. I've told Clint about those years, so this put up a red flag for him.

“Not to worry, my love,” I told him, ”You know I’ve been working with Morgan (my student) on abstract and non-objective expression and I wanted to show her an example of her next assignment.”

I had to come clean, “…well, and all the other stuff that’s been going on lately.” Yes, there’s been a bit of stress in our lives, but nothing that we can’t deal with.

What is so interesting about this piece is that when I showed it to Morgan and then Clint, they found completely different imagery within the print. Now, I did not intentionally incorporate any recognizable image. I was strictly working with shape and texture and value. That’s the wonderful thing about an abstract drawing or painting. Everyone finds something different. Sometimes there is nothing to find—yet so many people look for “something”. Often, there is nothing there other than an expression of color, texture, mood, or it’s simply an arrangement beautiful shapes.

When I finished this monotype, a title came to mind; yet my intent was very different than their interpretation. 

So…what do you see? Tell me and I’ll tell you the title and the feeling behind it.

*FYI: Abstract means the piece is derived from reality. There is something recognizable there. Non-objective—meaning there are no objects that are recognizable.

Adding and Subtracting

"Still Partners"

10" X 12"

Monoprint 

Fear not. We shall not trudge down the math path any further than my telling you the dimensions of these pieces. Instead, the title refers to the monoprint process I've been playing around with lately—adding and subtracting ink.

I've had this tube of sepia ink and some luscious creamy paper I've been aching to try out, so it was time to return to the plate, so to speak, and experiment once again with printmaking. I love making monoprints—not only the immediate result, but also the unpredictable nature of the process. Remember, each print is unique, there is only one (thus the name). (See more here, and here.)

I started with a piece of Plexiglas that I inked using a brayer (like a mini paint roller). I roughed out my drawing and began scraping away the ink with the chiseled end of a brush. The process was mind-numbingly slow. And, because I'd added oil to make the ink a bit more fluid, I found I was taking one step forward and two back as the ink kept seeping back into the places where I'd scraped it away.

I used a cloth to remove some of the ink, but this left large bare patches with little transition between light and dark. Finally, I loosely outlined the subject and used a bristle brush to remove the ink. Eureka! I loved the texture left behind by the brush. Even in the barest places, it left a soft haze of color. The result was much softer than the scrape-away method I've used in the past. The experimentation will continue as I work to establish a wider range of values using this technique.

"Still Partners II"

10" X 12"

Monoprint

After I made the first print, I thought I'd try a different approach. I had the ghost of the image left on the plate, so I applied ink with a brush to re-establish the forms. You can see the ink didn't come out evenly; there are blobs here and there where it was applied too thickly. However, I was able to quickly make another print. I think I like the first one better. How about you?

These images came from a photo taken on our trip to Domeland last fall. It seemed odd that these two trees grew so close and so tall side-by-side and there is nothing else around them. Like an old married couple standing there, they look out over the meadow, the sun warming their backs in the mornings, the sunsets saying goodnight.