Finished

Deer At Nightfall
11x14" Acrylic on canvas
November 2007

This one had been hanging around unfinished for a few weeks. But understandably. There was something wrong with it but I just couldn't put my finger on it. Since I'm not one to sign a painting until I'm satisfied with it, it just sat. Then a couple days ago the 'wrong' stuck out like a sore foot, obvious as could be. So I was able to finish it, sign it, and call it a done deal. Sweet.

Then it came time to post the work on my website, and man! what a hassle! I still haven't nailed down the photography angle so that the images I post actually look like my artwork color-wise. They're either too blue or too green or too red, and when I try to compensate in any type of photo imaging editor, something is always lost, e.g., contrast or saturation in one area of the photo or another. I have the sneaking suspicion that I'm gonna hafta take some serious time out to rig lighting and play with camera settings so the original photos'll need little if any retouching. The problem I'm having of late is the texture of the canvas has been too obvious, exaggerated in my photos - something I know is a lighting problem solved with a diffuser.

Anyway, I'm calling this painting a wrap even though viewer's over the internet will probably never see the painting as it was meant to be seen.

If anyone has any advice about artwork photography, I'd sure be obliging.

Camera: Sony Cyber-shot 7.2 megapixel with a Carl-Zeiss Vario-Tessar 2,8-5,2/7,9-23,7 lense.

'Til next time,

Cheers!

Only Over The Internet

I've known for some time now that my work is being watched by an artist living in Brighton, England, and when I post new work, he never fails to comment - suggesting a solution or two to a problem I may have been having, or just simply to write to share his thoughts on my work. Other artists and photographers living in the United States, (Alaska, Florida, Maryland, Michigan, and Tennessee), have also made themselves known; all very generous with congratulatory notes or complimentary messages of encouragement and support.
Every honest compliment has been gratifying to hear - and I must admit that on occasion, the random, unsolicited comment from a stranger has pulled me out of the doldrums, being just enough to keep me plodding along. But I mention these facts again, now, only because I'm impressed, once again, by the nature of the internet.

Last night I joined a membership website for artists and photographers, but mostly for photographers. It's called Eye Fetch. It gives you the opportunity to post examples of your work and receive feedback from other artists, so I uploaded a copy of Geese At Daybreak. Within an hour I'd received a comment from a woman in South Africa.*

South Africa. How about that? My work has been seen in South Africa!

I don't know where my membership to Eye Fetch will lead me, or whether or not it'll be worth the time necessary to maintain an active membership. But what I do know is that in all the internet's immediacy and worldwide reach, it has the ability to help people from around the world connect and share, see things they never would've seen, experience things they never would've experienced.

That, to me, is a miracle, and something to be very grateful for.


Cheers!



* She said, "Beautiful!! Love the effect."

In's and Out's

Finally, a new post! It's been a busy, what? eleven days since I last wrote?

It's been a time of tying-up loose ends - and of trying to make ends meet - all with, how shall we say? spotty success? at best?

But I'm a diehard and while I may have my moments of discouragement - days? weeks? :) - I always seem to land on my feet - pulling out of it and ending-up on the other side.

Rewind to October 27th when I admitted to havin' gotten into a creative slump. Seems writing about it and admitting to it was all the 'surrender' I needed; and with that came a renewed enthusiasm for my art. But with the self-imposed deadline for the Exigency Project looming - I'm now at least three or more canvases behind schedule - and with persistent, nagging doubts about how well the visual story was holding together, I revisited my preliminary sketches. Sure enough, the complicated and somewhat convoluted storyline* needed an overhaul. The problem was just as I remembered it: How, in god's name, do you reduce to just 30 canvases five decades of personal experience, together with the experiences of the hundreds of men I've known throughout the years? and try to make some type of social commentary at the same time?

Call it the interplay of unknown forces at work in the universe, (or more likely, the subconscious continuing to work on a problem 'behind the scenes,' while the conscious mind deals with what's in front of it), but the answer to my dilemma came that night when I wasn't even thinking about it. I heard from my own mouth, "Keep it simple," while I was trying to help someone else over the phone.

After I hung-up, I lined-up all my sketches in a huge circle around the livingroom. With 'keep it simple' still in mind, it became obvious that I was trying to pull too many socio-cultural influences into the storyline mix. Not only did that overcomplicate what I was trying to say, it clouded the underlying and simplest story of them all: the fragmentation of a man's personality caused by conflicting social demands, the resulting downward spiral into despair, the epiphany or turning-point, and finally, victory through courage and truth. Now THAT'S simple, and something everyone should be able to relate to. (Everyone's had problems they've had to overcome.)

Since then, with an eye toward simplification, a few old sketches were discarded and twelve new ones added. (Some, I might say, are my best, showing the dynamism and 'presence' I hope to render on canvas.) (A couple others have to be redrawn but we won't talk about that. ;) But most importantly, with this new focus, there's an added confidence in my abilities and hope for the project that's hard to describe.

I kinda laugh now because it seems that the world really does reward action, or positive aligns itself to positive, or something. (Uh, prolly just the superstitious nonsense I've learned getting airtime in my head.)

Anyway, while I was working on the new sketches, it occurred to me that it wouldn't be a bad idea to get all the sketches at least matted so I could present the story to curators of art centers… see if I couldn't drum-up some advance interest in an exhibition. Oh but god, the mats I cut myself are awful and buying precut mats just rubs me the wrong way - having to deal with the constraints of the precut mat opening - either having to draw something to fit it, or scanning, resizing, and printing the drawings to fit. But as if to prove that the positive aligns itself with the positive of the universe, last Monday, precut mats went on sale for 50% off at one of the local stores.

Okay, so that may not be a total 'sweet,' but it at least made my little matting project something a bit easier to live with.

Maybe robbing Peter a bit to pay Paul for the moment, I bought the store out, snagging 22 of the 11x14" mats they normally stock. Add to those the six I already had on-hand from when I was dabbling in photography, and I have only two more to buy at the regular price after they restock 'em. Plus, I figure, having the sketches mounted with some consistency will be a benefit. Too, if a sketch just can't be made to fit, I can always take the mat into a framing shop and have them adjust the opening. Cool.

Hell, who knows, the collection of matted sketches may end up being my first exhibition. Now that'd be sweet.

Okay, what else?

I've returned to eBay. You can caulk that up to 'necessity being the mother of invention.' (Or 'poverty being the spark of capitalism?')

Driving home from the store I hatched a plan to see if I couldn't make my art start working a bit harder for me, maybe scare up some needed funds, at least enough to start covering the constant expense of materials. This time I offered up a giclée reproduction of one of the Exigency sketches - something I'd prepped for a promotional mailing - matted just like the composition of its corresponding painting.

Needless to say, my last eBay experience was less than positive, yielding a grand total of a minus $1.20, (cost of placing the ads), so even with this modest offering - a small thing beginning at 99 cents - my expectations are low. But hey, I figure even if it doesn't sell, throwing another 20 cents at an ad couldn't hurt… at least I'd be learning the ins-and-outs of eBay.

We'll see what happens.

(If you're interested, hit the eBay logo on my website home page. Or go to eBay and search for "jdean" in the "Art" category.) (Simple.)

Well folks, there's more to report but I've run outta time for tonight. Until next time…

Cheers!


* "Plots within plots," as was said in the movie, Dune.

In Trouble Again

Every time I fall into an inspiration slump and start feeling like I have to produce, I get into trouble. I start forcing myself to paint just to up the number of finished canvases for the month. (Ahhh… well-trained by an industrial society, eh?) Then, just because "I've gotta have more to show," I start new paintings I never would've started otherwise. That's what I did yesterday… twice… tearing up the first because I'd become so frustrated with it.

From the past I've learned that whenever I get into that certain 'danger zone' - an inspiration slump - which can be felt sometimes both physically and mentally - it's best not to try to finish anything started when the muses were kinder, gentler. If I do, I make a complete mess of whatever it is I work on. So now, when I can recognize on some level what's happening. I'm in the habit of starting new paintings.

So that habit is in my favor, I 'spose.

But worse than starting paintings I'm not 'inspired' to paint, I start scheming to find ways of upping my "production," like painting from photos I find over the internet rather than finding models of my own - purposefully using someone else's composition - which, by the way, I consider stealing when my thinking is clearer. Or I start thinking of ways to streamline the "production" end of things like tracing, using a grid-matrix on top of the canvas to control proportions, or a projector to project a photograph onto the canvas, which I could then just simply paint over. But the all-time kicker of painting on top of an image preprinted with an inkjet - something I read once of a guy doing, and raking in some pretty substantial bucks over eBay with his work - is what? art?

I'm not gonna touch that whole 'art vs. not art' issue with a ten-foot pole. I have my standards and other people have theirs, which is basically another way of saying, "Not for me."

It's harder to translate what's seen in a 3D world into two dimensional shapes on canvas without using mechanical aids… but what do you learn by using them? other than learning to use them well? becoming dependent on them rather than improving eye-to-hand coordination? like I was taught I should do.

But I'm off topic now.

I get into trouble when I think I've got to produce no matter what. And that's when all those shortcuts start looking good.

I slept well last night, prolly for the first time in about a week or more, and woke up with the renewed understanding that art isn't a commodity like a bushel of corn, or something you can churn-out at the end of an assembly line, whether you're 'inspired' to do it or not. And with that understanding came one hellova lotta compassion for myself and the predicament I'm in.

No, I don't have to produce simply for the sake of production numbers. No, I don't have to resort to using mechanical aids just to increase efficiency. And no, I don't have to paint when I'm not inspired to.

I'm sure all of that just bugs the hell out of anyone geared to think exclusively in numbers, but then, those are the same people who'd think that the value of a painting is in how closely it matches their livingroom sofa, (rather than the extent to which it 'moves' them), or who look at art solely as a monetary investment. I know, as an artist, I can't be bothered with any of them, just as I can't be bothered with anyone looking for a bargain.

It all boils down to integrity, not only being true to the art and its rendering, but also to the value it potentially offers society. From that perspective, I can't afford to allow lesser values to influence me or to dictate when, how, or how much I paint. If I do, my art will no doubt slip into mediocrity, speak less and less to anyone, and, over time, won't be valued any more than the mass-produced "wall décor" bought at WalMart and hanging in most American homes.

Now, as far as that inspiration 'slump?'

Welp, having been through that before, I know these slumps always pass, just as inspiration passes, eventually. I'm also thinking they're all a necessary part of the creative process - kinda like a needed 'time-out' or something. (Authors have their writer's block, artists have their slumps or 'blank canvas syndromes.') Now, just how long they seem to last seems to be directly influenced by just how hard you fight against 'em.

The trick then, for me, now, remains a matter of a certain surrender.

Hmmm… how 'bout that?

Wish me luck.

Until next time…


Cheers!

Surprised

Just massaging the shapes now. (Yeah, I know. This is the fourth painting I have "in the works.")

You know, I'm always surprised when it actually starts to look like something.

Maybe I shouldn't be.

'Spose I'll grow out of that sooner or later… come to expect it.

In a way I hope I don't.

The reason the idea/inspiration - whatever it was that came to me, (to paint this), I spose, was the weather we've been having lately - kinda windy but warm and overcast at the same time. When it's like this, I always remember surprising a young buck out by the barn one day.

Deer aren't generally in the habit of wandering up so close to the house, but when they do, you're reminded of how big they are… and magnificent.

Anyway, it was just before dark and he was busy munching something on the ground beside the bunkhouse - prolly mulberries - and I was headed to the stalls at the rear of the barn. I came around the front of the barn, not paying much attention to much of anything, except where I was headed, wondering if I'd find what it was I was after. And you know when you get that feeling that something's out of place? or someone's watching you? or there's someone there that shouldn't be, or something? I stopped dead in my tracks and slowly looked over toward him. At the same time he raised his head and there we were, face-to-face, staring at each other, maybe twenty-five feet apart.

He didn't get spooked until I had the bright idea of getting my camera from the house to take a picture. I tried to retrace my steps backwards but as soon as I moved, he took a little jump forward, turned, and was halfway across the field.

Pretty cool.

Trying

Well, painting wrinkles isn't 'zactly fun. Especially if they're yours! :) But prettying myself up isn't the name of the game either.

Okay, so! with that in mind, I'll try not to slide back into playing those old games of trying to be something I'm not, and try to keep a sense of humor about me.

The crow's-feet on my right eye, (pictured on the left), need to be deeper, and the shape of that eyelid is wrong. Plus the wrinkles at the corner of my left eye need to be rounded a bit more.

Easy fixes all.

(It's gotten to the point where differences between takes will be harder to spot, so the next image I'll post will be of the final painting.)

Cheers!

The Little Death

It's colder in the studio today - expected since the temps got below 40 last night. So before coming out, I'd pulled on some long-sleeve thermals.

Even before I flipped on the overhead lights, I could see from the light shining-in from the front that the skin I'd painted the day before was too pink, the whites of my eyes, too blue.

'I'll have to check myself in the mirror again.'

I suspect that as the paint dried overnight, it changed in its color intensity - something I've yet to get a good bead on… remembering that the acrylic suspension of pigments is whitish before it dries clear - something that gives wet paint a tinted, less intense appearance before it dries. It's still maddening to find out 'you've done it again.'

The blue will be a slam-dunk to correct, being such small areas. The pink, well, that's another matter.

Studying the painting today - after trying to take a break from everything the whole day yesterday - I still feel exhausted, and hardly up to working on it again.

'I put too much into it,' I think. 'Too much,' and wonder again if what I've been told is true. If it is, then whatever it is that's drained out of me ends-up on the canvas.

'A little death.'

It's not like that with everything I paint, only the ones I care about. And I suppose it shows in the paintings. It does to me. But then, I know what it took for each and every painting… which ones count and which ones don't… which ones I'd find hard to part with, and the ones I can't wait to get rid of.

This one is important, but I wonder if it should be any more important than any of the other paintings. It was meant, after all, to be just a study, to see if I could do something before I did the "final." But so was "Blue Hunger," and like that one, this one's already crossed that boundary. It holds more potential than merely an exercise in painting technique.

It should be at the end of the Exigency series, the end of the exhibition - the end of the story - the last one anyone sees. And so I wonder too if it should be my eyes or someone else's - the eyes of someone else with more wisdom, more peace with the truth, more understanding and compassion, more courage… and less fear.

Time to paint again.

Purple?

['The Locomotion," (Grand Funk), plays on the computer, LOUD, Set to 'repeat play.']

'I'm hungry.'

'That'll wait.'

'I'm sleepy.'

'That'll wait too, you old fool.'

'More depth around the eyes… below the brow especially… a bit more shape to the lower eyelids too.'

'Still look like a deer in the headlights. This is crap.'

'There's actually a bit of purple in my eyes. Huh, how 'bout that?'

'Just paint what you see, Jeff. Just paint what you see.'

'I'll be damned. The whites of my eyes aren't really white anymore. Eeeee. Kinda sick lookin'.'

'They say some people can tell why a person's sick just by looking at his eyes. Hmmm… feel good, so prolly nothing wrong. Prolly just the lighting.'

'Just paint what you see. Just paint what you see.'

[Stands back to look.]

'Kay… I like that. Huh, even starting to look like me.'

[Does a little dance to the music.]

'I'm happy. This is why I do this.'

'Time to wrap it up for a bit.'

Gonna maybe have a little snack and a little nap before returning.

Soon.

Cheers!

Windows

More Burnt Sienna goes onto the palette.

'Careful. Not too much. You'll need what's left for the big canvas.'

'Wish it covered better. Hate having to paint over and over it again.'

'Where are the corners of my eye? There. We'll say there… and there. 'Everything goes out from there.'

'God my eyes are bloodshot.'

'Shape of the eyes seems right. Is my nose that wide? Seems so.'

'Lessee… Put in some eyebrows, sink in the eyes with a bit a shadow… add some shape to the head. Put in some wrinkles for reference.' [Smiling.]

Sweater goes back on. Sleeves get pulled up. Another look in the mirror.

"Lookit all those wrinkles. 'Vanity?' Yeah, right. More like 'reality check.'"

'I'm getting old, aren't I?'

I stand back and look.

'I look scared or startled or something, but I'm not. Naw, just more shading and wrinkles around the eyes are needed is all.'

'This looks like crap. The colors are all wrong.'

'Keep going. It'll all work itself out.'

'The eyes… windows to the soul,' I've heard.'

'Spose they are.'

Sweater comes off again.

'Time to switch to a smaller brush.'

The Eyes Go On

Turn the lights on. Chilly. Turn the floor heater on. Point it to the easel.

'Be paying 300 buck-a-month gas bills again soon.'

Take off my sweater and toss it to the desk. Squeeze more white onto the palette. And red.

'Will be needing that again.'

Stand back.

'God, my skin is pink. I hate pink. Nevermind. It'll match someone else's couch… somewhere.'

'Where to start?'

'Spose if I did abstraction, impressionism - whatever it's called - I'd stop here. Make the paint thicker and call it a day. Twenty minutes tops. Could do three or four a day that way. Rake in the dough.'

"Proportions, Jeff. Proportions."

I measure the distance between my eyes in a mirror. Some quick math. The canvas is 20 inches wide. My head, what? about 6 inches wide?

"We'll put the pupils 9½ inches on center… right about there. And there."

'Too blue or somethin'. My eyes aren't that blue. Too thin too.'

'There, that's better.'

'I still think self-portraits are self-absorbed. Vain. What'd that article say? "…in the absence of other models… "'

' 'Spose. Get over it. I just wanna see if I can paint eyes like that other guy.'

'Then there's that reminder… I need… '

Something...

There's something terribly frustrating about not being able to figure out what's wrong. Or why I can't get it right.

It might be because I'm working in such a large format (4x6 ft.) - something I'm not used to. Or maybe I'm just being overly critical of my work and the next time I look at it, everything'll seem fine. I dunno.

There's just something I can't seem to work out on the right shoulder. I've even considered tracing the left and duplicating it on the right, but that's not gonna happen.

The model wasn't perfectly centered under the light, that much I can tell from the reference photos. The photos don't seem 'wrong' but this painting sure does… somehow…

Oh well… we'll see where the next session leads.

Cheers!

Artists Have Heroes Too

Detail from a 1918 Leyendecker painting
for The Saturday Evening Post.

Can't really say what drew me to J.C. Leyendecker's work way back in ye ol' college days, but unlike a passing fancy with Salvador Dali in high school, Leyendecker's appeal endures.

Most wouldn't be able to tell a Norman Rockwell from a Leyendecker - both doing roughly the same type of work for magazines and advertisers before photography came of age. What sets Leyendecker's work apart, and which I find most appealing, is that unmistakably quiet, other-worldly haughtiness or aloofness in the faces of most of Leyendecker's subjects - one that's automatically quite charming and captivating at the same time. (I'm excluding, of course, the baby cherubs, children, and adolescents painted for Kellogg's advertisements and the Spring editions of The Saturday Evening Post.) And whether it's because of these expressions or the staging of his subjects, there's always just enough there, (or not), to make you wonder what else is going on, (or, 'What is he thinking'), or that leaves a lot to the viewer's imagination/interpretation… something I already seem to be doing second-naturedly… to draw the viewer into the art as much as possible through a subject's expression or what doesn't appear.

While I look to Leyendecker as an expert in these regards, and also in rendering light reflected by a subject's skin, and his ability to blend color to create the illusion of a flawless skin, I also understand the stylization of most of his figures - Normal Rockwell prompted to say, "he could never paint a woman with any sympathy." (1)

It's here I depart not only from Rockwell's inept critique, but also from my hero's approach.

My goal is to present the natural handsomeness of my subjects, more or less as they are, and in spite of their apparent imperfections.

Cheers!


(1) Schau, Michael. J.C. Leyendecker, New York: Watson-Guptill Publications, 1974. p33.

Face First

So after a couple relatively minor but time consuming setbacks, (mostly Weed Ordinance Violations - mine and my sister's - long story - and every piece of lawn equipment biting the big one at the same time), I lost a good three+ weeks of painting. We're talking several acres of yards here and clearing five fallen trees.) But thanks to friends lending their equipment and some invaluable help, I'm finally back in the saddle again and can report at least a little progress having been made with the painting at hand.

After a point, I seem to start concentrating on the face, working outwards from there, leaving everything else until later.

Then there's the feet.

I abandoned one painting (temporarily?) because I couldn't get the feet right... that 36 x 24 incher. And I noticed today that I'd left the feet in the current painting 'in sketch,' not even bothering to fill-in the basic shapes.

Personally, I don't find feet that interesting, and can only recall seeing "an attractive pair o' dogs" in real life only a handful of times. (And trust me, mine aren't it. :)

So the latest? You guessed it... the feet!


Cheers!

Jars of Paint

The new Exigency painting is well underway, the photo above taken several days ago.

Why would I be so surprised that a larger painting would take more paint? I dunno, but I was... jars rather than tubes… and slightly different methods - larger brushes for example - my 3/4 replaced by 1½ inch brushes for laying the ground. A more decisive approach seems to be working best too, what with 24 square feet of canvas to cover :)

Using my old ways of doing things, this painting would take at least a month; and might anyway? We'll see.

In the meantime, I've been advised to come up with some more "conventional" paintings again, (you know, landscapes and flowers), if only to improve cash flow. I'm not exactly sure of the logic behind that seeing as how none of the "conventional" paintings have sold - my work not being displayed for three months in another gallery when I thought it was, notwithstanding. Still, the advice came from someone else I respect and you know, don't you, one of the artist's commandments is, "Thou shalt deal with those who will honour thee." So I better get on the stick and see what else I can come up with.

Until next time…

Cheers!

Here We Go!

I'm totally jazzed right now.

I've been more or less biding my time, what with one thing or another, but always so very conscious of time slipping by without painting.

There'd been a man who'd volunteered to model a couple weeks ago? and I'd left it up to him to call when he was ready. But I hadn't heard from him, so this morning, after tying up some loose ends with a website job, I decided to give him a call. And I'm sure glad I did. Even before I could say much over the phone, he asked if we could do it right away. I said, "Sure!" and before you knew it, he was knocking on the door. Cool.

He was great. Once I had the camera set-up and explained a bit about the composition, (see sketch, next entry), his nervousness passed - he'd never modeled before - and once that happened, he became attentive to whatever directions were needed. And he was great at following directions too, so all-in-all, it was a short, very productive session. He even suggested an improvement to the composition!!!!

In my explanations of the shoot, I'd told him it was of a guy who had a decision to make, but that he wasn't depressed… "Just thinking real hard," I'd said, "so let's keep your shoulders back a bit… not drooping." No problem, but in positioning him, I had him so you could only see the top of his head. A few photos into the shoot, he remarked, "Won't that make him look depressed? his head hanging down so low?"

Sure enough, in reviewing the photos just taken, he was right. So after that, his head is raised a bit and he's staring at the floor in front of him.

I just uploaded the photos to the computer and reviewed 'em. The photos turned out great. Not photographic art, you understand, but that's not why they're taken… The positions I ask for can't be held for very long, and they're definitely not positions that can be held for as long as it'd take to do a painting. In fact, the positions can be downright uncomfortable even for the shortest period of time. So the only recourse is to take reference photos.

I'm totally jazzed. And I'm totally excited about this painting.

Thank you, uh… Crud... I don't know what to call him. I forgot to discuss "attribution" with him so I don't know what to call him in public.

Okay, paint first and ask questions later. Should prolly have a name for him by the time I post a pic of this next painting.

Guess what I'm gonna be doing tonight… Painting!!!! Yea!


Cheers!

The Exigency Story

I've been getting a lot of questions about the Exigency Project - mostly from people I've invited to participate, potential sponsors, models, etc. And from those viewing my art and involving themselves enough to ask, "What motivated you to paint this?" So for the sake of the Project's success, it may be time to end at least some of the secrecy. Reasonably so. Both interest and cooperation tend to evaporate in a hurry when someone's told, "I can't tell you." Or when 'just enough' isn't heard.

I don't want to get into the language of sociology, psychology, or anthropology, so for now, suffice it to say, "The Exigency Exhibition is a collection of some 40 planned canvases meant to visually relate a story - the story of victory over defeat."

It's the story of one man - though not me en toto - having drawn on the experiences of the hundreds of men I've known - and is decidedly a story involving uniquely male experiences. However, regardless of the viewer's gender, the Exhibition should have relevance if only because of the commonality of the human experiences represented on canvas. (There will no doubt be some departures, but my goal is to improve understanding rather than to draw battle lines between the sexes.)

From one perspective, the story is about the search for meaning and purpose in life while at the same time having to overcome obstacles presented both from without, (because of the people around us and the society in which we live), and from within, (battling one's own demons: the various delusions, fears, guilt, regrets, and despairs we entertain whether we know it or not).

In most stories, there's a protagonist or 'hero,' and one or more antagonists. And so it is with the Exigency Story, though the antagonists have yet to be introduced... They haven't been represented in any sketch, canvas, or sculpture made available for public viewing up to this point. (And they may not be revealed until the Exhibition.) (We'll see.)

In the stories of most American dramas, (provided the hero is attractive, fits the template of "normal," or is endearingly eccentric), there are always blue skies after the struggle, and a 'happily-ever-after' ending. This is true whether or not anything of the sort can be expected out of real life. Unfortunately, American movie-goers rarely dismiss these happily-ever-after endings as corny or strictly make-believe. They - these Walt Disney happy-endings - have become something people in American audiences have come to expect, not only from their cinema - and feel cheated if they don't get one - but in their own lives as well.

Viewers of the Exhibition may feel cheated if they expect such an unrealistic ending to the Exigency Story.

That having been said, there is a "happy ending," (represented by the "White Canvases"). But it doesn't come because our hero thinks he deserves one, (or assumes the right of entitlement), or is somehow granted a 'wish.' Nor does his happy ending come in "knight in shining armor" rescuer fashion; or as a "love" that saves the day or magically transforms a dull, meaningless life into something wondrous and exciting - turning a hell on earth into heaven. (Granted, that seems to happen on occasion but it's usually short-lived because it's based on delusional thinking.) And above all, our hero's happy ending doesn't depend on him becoming someone else's salvation project - as in his shrink's success story or favorite missionary man's conversion.

His happy ending comes with a great deal of hard work, discovery of the truth, and ultimately, the surrender to the truth he's discovered rather than the way he wants things to be.

(There is, of course, a great deal more to the Story; but for various reasons related to over-exposure or revealing too much before exhibition, that will have to due for now.) (Stay tuned.)

The rough sketch above is the preliminary for the next "Black Canvas" to be shown over the internet. It's meaning may seem obvious, but its true significance can only be fully understood within the context of the Story as a whole, that is, in and among the entire set of canvases.

The current project is the largest of the "Black Canvases" to date, measuring 4 ft. x 6 ft., and certainly the largest canvas I've ever attempted.

For more on the Exigency Exhibition, visit the online gallery website and follow the Exigency links.

Cheers!



[The above entry was edited for clarity on August 5th, '07; (previous title: "Spilling The Beans"), and again on March 5th, 2009.]

Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

I have to laugh at myself sometimes. I really do.

I just did.

It's happened before. It'll happen again.

It usually happens gradually, but before I know it, I'm frustrated and the world is feeling more like a straightjacket than anything else. And usually the only way to get out of it, for me anyway, is to laugh at myself.

The reasons for that happening may vary, you understand, but I've at least become more adept at recognizing that straightjacket feeling, stopping to take a breath, and trying to objectively assess the situation. It's then that the comedy of it all hits me.

This time it wasn't because I'd built the frame to a 4 ft. x 6 ft. canvas out on the deck without thinking. (There are weird, little, narrow turns after you reach the top of the stairs and a cramped entryway. And that's just to get into the studio.) And it wasn't because I hadn't thought about how low the ceiling to the studio is. (To paint the 6 foot tall canvas, I'd have to lay on my belly.) (Okay, you can stop laughing now.)

Naw, it wasn't because of anything having to do with solutions out in the real world - which are sometimes easier to find - like removing a door or setting-up a temporary easel in the model staging area. (That's where I'm stretching the canvas above. That's why the walls are black.)

No sir. It had to do with my own mind, where solutions can't be measured with a yardstick. Seems that somewhere along the line I'd lost that wonderfully carefree attitude of, "Let's try it an' see."

Gradually, and without me knowing it, temporary delays were becoming imagined obstacles that were getting a lot of air time in my head, that tendency seemingly validated by weird little coincidences happening in the real world. And let's face it, when that happens, I might-as-well, just-as-well, eat worms.

So, "No, Jeff, just because you weren't able to touch bases with someone as soon as you thought you would doesn't mean they're not interested. And just because they're not interested… ! …doesn't mean that the whole Project's a total waste of time and gonna end-up in total failure anyway. And no, Jeff, you're probably not gonna end-up living on the streets, begging for food, going insane and in jail because that's where they put mental patients nowadays anyway." (Well, I didn't go that far, but you know what I mean.)

I'm thinking patience really is a virtue in this case. There were at least four people I wanted to 'touch-bases' with before the weekend. Plus about a half-dozen other things that were dependent upon some other things happening. But for one reason or another, none of it happened. And just because "everything" didn't happen on my schedule, exactly the way I wanted it to, doesn't mean that everything won't happen, turn out even better than expected, and maybe even with a few pleasant surprises thrown-in to boot.

Patience, Jeff, patience.

Life really is interesting, isn't it?

So, here's to all of you, wishing you all a straightjacket-free weekend. Until next time I write…

Cheers!

I think I'll go paint. Let's try it an' see what happens. :)


Oh! And thank you all for the compliments and words of encouragement. And for the person living in Florida: "Yep! I sure do love living here :)

A Walk In The Park

I had the opportunity to attend the annual College Hill Arts Festival last weekend in Cedar Falls, Iowa. And for anyone in the least bit interested in art, if you missed it, well, you missed it. (I'm not in any position to judge the quality of art displayed, not being an art critic myself… I just know what I like when I see it and I saw a bunch of stuff I liked, but alas, couldn't persuade the artists to give-up their paintings for free. :) (I will say this tho, the weather was fantastic, the grounds were perfect for an art fair, and the booths were very nicely laid-out.)

Nope, it wasn't all fun and games for me. I went with very specific purposes in mind: to network with other artists, if I could; to get a handle on what would be needed should I apply and be accepted to exhibit in the show next year; and to see where I stood regarding how I price my own work.

I was able to meet several artists, one from Kentucky, (there were something like 17 states represented), and another from Des Moines - cool - all of our work very different.

Of the work I saw that I'd call comparable to my own, I found that I was right in the ballpark as far as how I'm doing my pricing, which eased the second-guessing I was doing to myself. So, if I want to sell my art, it looks like I should be concentrating on its promotion. Makes sense.

There were all kinds of other things I learned simply by paying attention to how I was reacting as I browsed the outdoor aisles, e.g., why I passed-by one booth and not another - back-tracking when I realized what I was doing. (If I hadn't become suddenly aware of my behavior, I wouldn't've gone back to see what I'd missed.)

Some of the exhibitors had inadvertently? created barriers to people walking into their booths to view their artwork - things like chairs, stands, or tables at the front. Their placement didn't completely bar people from getting into the booth to take a closer look, but they didn't make it completely inviting either. I don't think I'm off track when I say, "Uh, I don't think you should do that cuz don't people wanna see things before they buy 'em?"

Another thing I learned was what's best to make available as handouts for visitors - not just business cards - what I'd call from my corporate days, "collateral literature." (I picked up a lot of the most attractive for future reference.)

All in all, it was a productive, enjoyable, and relaxing walk in the park.

That's all for now. (I'm severely behind in my correspondence :( but will write again soon.)

Cheers!

Unit Status Report - July 18th, 2007

The past few days, we've been having Severe Thunderstorm Alerts/Warnings, Tornado Watches/Warnings; and today, Flash Flood Warnings.

As I sit here this morning, listening to thunder coming out of the northeast, I'm wondering if I shouldn't be hightailing it back up to the house… not that I'm surrounded by lightning attractors or anything… like these ancient CTR monitors sitting in front of me - prolly emitting more EMF than the Los Alamos particle accelerator - and the air conditioner; and outside, the biggest elm tree you've ever seen, now soaked from top to bottom.

(GGEEeeeecht-Boom!) (That was a nice one. :) (Fun.) (It's getting closer.)

I had an interview with the editor of a small, local newspaper yesterday morning. Pretty cool. He'd spotted my art hanging downtown about a month ago and has been wanting to do an interview ever since. I've been ready, it's just that for one reason or another, it just wasn't happening through neither of our faults. This morning though, I got the call: "He's ready when you are."

"What do you hope to accomplish through your art?" (That ever-dreaded question.)

Though I think I tried to, I couldn't say… "There's a continuing interplay of existential dynamics going on: the external where our lives are experienced in the physical world, (among other people within the contexts of place and social and cultural norms); and the internal, where our perceptions and interpretations of the world around us - and of ourselves - are filtered and given meaning. By representing in some tangible way, (through my art), these universally experienced moments - as fleeting and indefinable as they may be sometimes - I hope to heighten the viewer's own awareness of self."

(Pompus?)

So I said something like, "I hope to involve the viewer in what they see, perhaps on some emotional level, you know, because he can relate."


(Nice, nice. Simple and to the point.)

The interview was an exceptionally positive experience, mostly because he's a good interviewer. (You'd be surprised how many journalists aren't.) He's also gonna send a copy of the article so if any corrections have to be made, (I doubt it) ... an unexpected and unnecessary though appreciated professional courtesy.

The article will come out next week.

Last night I remember telling a friend, "My output's been low." (Yeah, like non-existent since the 12th - when I finished Glory.) I've managed to gesso a couple canvases but that's about it. Oh yeah, I spent all day Sunday and into Monday updating my website. But that's not the problem... Recently I've been locked into thinking that if I don't have a model, I can't work on the next painting, or any number of concepts floating around in my head - all of which will make up the Exigency Exhibition - which I announced yesterday will be in mid-2008. Now all I have to do is finish the 20 to 30 canvases necessary for the show. (Five down, 25 to go.)

When I started the Exigency Project, I figured it'd be a cinch to find whatever model I needed when I needed him. But alas, the men I know who are willing and able to model have bodies that look doughy, if they're not flat-out overweight and out of shape. The next best thing would be to ask strangers, but without some type of budgeting for such a thing, I mean, who wants to model for nothing? ...Exactly.

Anyway, I started sketching, getting the 'story' out of my head and down on paper, e.g., the sketch you see above. If nothing else, the sketches will provide something to discuss with models when I find them… "This is what I want to do. " Nothing like a good well-planned session, eh? And I suppose if worse-comes-to-worse, I can always paint from imagination, though I've found that when I do that, my paintings lack the human spirit, tension, attitude, or bearing that the model brings to the session. The paintings appear 'flat' and lifeless, (if that makes any sense), even worse than when I paint directly from photographs of models I've never met - never having had the opportunity to take mental notes in the process of forming a type of association with them.

I'm thinking now I know why artists are drawn to abstractions - you can paint whatever you want without having to worry about finding the subjects to sit and arrange.

I want the next painting to be the first of the white canvases, which I've been anxious to start… all of which will represent the end of the story… all completely positive and upbeat - that stage of life I believe I've found this past year... uh, trivial, life-stuff annoyances like Severe Thunderstorm and Flash Flood Warnings aside.

(Ba-Boom!)

(Coool.)

Cheers!

Acres Edge Revisited

I took this photo a couple days ago. Lots of new construction and blue skys. (See Immortalized.)

Cheers!

The Thrill Is Gone

Half of an as yet untitled
work in progress.

AAHHHGHRG! For crying out loud! This painting was started on the 30th and it's still not done!

I've gotten way too precise and way too worried about too much concerning this painting, taking way too much time in the process. This is NOT 'sposed to be draftsmanship. It's supposed to be paintin' - expressive - free.

Friday nite? Going out an' kickin' up my heals? Nope. I knew when I stepped foot into the studio this evening it'd be a washout. (Not that I'm your regular party animal anyway, for pete's sake.) Just, well, you gotta strike while the fire is hot and I was in the mood. So here I sit at 4 in the morning after spending the night, well, right now I'm just trying to back-off and take a breather.

I've rounded the bend though, past that point where I keep thinking, 'It's gonna be crap.' Should be okay. We'll see, unless I do something idiotic that'd totally bollocks it up.

K, so feeling a bit better now… Stay tuned. Time to get back to it.


Cheers!

Immortalized

Acres Edge
Unfinished
14x11" Acrylic on Canvas.

I woke up in one of my foul, (or black), moods yesterday. Who knows why… something I ate before going to bed? dreamed during the night? falling barometric pressure or moon phase? Who knows.

Emotions… they come and go - sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly - and sometimes don't even have anything to do with what's really going on in life, though you'd think so even when they don’t, eh? they can be so damned immediate and persistent sometimes.

Anyway, when I'm in one of those moods, I know enough to keep a lid on it - not inflict them on the others around me. I also know enough not to work on anything important, because, well, no matter what I'd do, it wouldn't be good enough and then I'd just get madder and start making even worse mistakes, getting wound-up tighter in the process.

So it was that I set aside the painting I'm currently working on and 'paged through' the canvases I'd started but left unfinished. Yeah, I know. I do that… start things I don't finish.

Well, not like that... What I mean is sometimes you can start a painting and after a point know it's just not worth the effort anymore - it's turning out to be crap and you wouldn't want to put your name on it. So, rather than throw good money after bad, so to speak, you set it aside hoping for some future inspiration on how to rescue it; or, failing that, you can paint over it and start something totally new and different.

Of the six canvases with that fate in store, I ran across this little painting, (above), of a spot just north of town where a row of small, basement-less bungalows butt-up against farmland. A few days ago, I remembered, I'd past that same scene thinking that a small tornado'd taken out everything except the three houses closest to the highway, trees and all. I remembered I'd thought I must of been mistaken, until I saw that painting again. There it was, the scene semi-permanently recorded in paint, just like it used to be. I hadn't intended to do that, you understand, painting it only because of how the sunlight hit the back-ends of those little shacks. But I did. There they were and they'll never be the same again.

I heard second-hand from my partner that one of the men I'd painted was all jazzed and stuff that I'd painted him. I just didn't understand why and said so. "What's to understand?" he suggested, "you've immortalized him."

I guess I'm slow on the uptake sometimes, (maybe a lot) - because I still didn't understand, at least, not until I saw that odd little painting I was holding in my hand.

Cheers!


In real time: Thursday July 5, 2007 - 07:31pm (CDT)

The Joy of Painting

An enlarged detail from
an as yet untitled work in progress.

"…Then that delightful amazement took over… the fascination with how shapes, hue, shades, and tints - even when lacking precision - can combine to become something recognizable…"

- Reprinted from another blog of mine.

A Slimmer Me?

Trust me, if I lost much much weight at all, people would have a hard time finding me. Okay, so bad analogy to what I'm about to say...

With everything that I thought that needed to be done - I was finding it hard to find the time to paint. That is, afterall, what I'm supposed to be doing, right? So as a last ditch resort to figure out where all the time was going, I became friends with a calendar where I carefully logged how each and every minute of every day was being spent. I've done that for the past month now. A couple days ago, when I took the magic markers to the calendar, highlighting blocks of time in different colors by types of activity, well, don't tell me that wasn't an eye-opener. Something's gotta go.

While I can't say that a lot of time's been wasted, per se, changes are badly needed to more efficiently get what needs to be done, done.

One area for improvement is the amount of time I spend blogging, and while it can be an important source of new traffic to the online "eGallery," - this one taking a back seat to other more popular blogs - maintaining several blogs at the same time is, well, a waste of time. So I'll be looking to write blog entries that can be essentially duplicated across the board, at least until I can find the time to figure out how that blasted RSS thingie works.

Anyway, in the midst of everything going down - including doing website design for others to keep cash coming in - I've managed to see several new canvases leave the studio - (see online eGallery link) - a couple of 'em I'm even proud to say, "I did that."

"Goldfinches" is gone too, hanging in a friend's shopt. Whoever wrote the artist's commandment, "Thou shalt not price by talent or time taken, but by size," I'm thinking, should have his head examined. I spent something like 7 hours on it when it's only a 5x7" canvas!!!!

Anyway, I promised I'd post it so here it is!

Hope all is going well with you all.

Cheers!

On The Wings of A...

Just back from an extraordinary trip I took to Tennessee on the 19th... Lots of exceptional company, (especially by one man), and a side trip to Daulphin Island.

Started out by meeting a great lady from Omaha at the Minneapolis airport, waiting for a connecting flight, and it just got better and better from there. Got some cool photos, had some alligator (tasty), met the director and cast of a fantastic theatre production called, "A Streetcar Named Desire," and oh so much more.

So today I'm reckoning I'm gonna hafta take off yet another day and try to get back into the saddle of a normal life - well, almost 'normal' anyway. (Shudder. Who wants 'normal?') I'll meet with a website design client, mow the foot-tall grass - honesty things bloomed out while I was gone - and do that month-end thing called 'bills'… etc… getting all of those nasty little life-stuff things squared away so I can dive right back into painting, free of everything that nags at a guy and stunts his creativity.

Did get that painting mentioned in the next blog finished, but still haven't posted it here yet. Soon. Till then,

Have a better one!

Anuhdah

Time for another postcard (painting) from the (edge?).

Soon.

Blow-By-Blow Tryout

It's been a busy and full day and now I'm faced with painting, tired and worn - which is at least one reason why I'm having a certain hesitation with committing to this 'Painting-A-Day' thing. But we'll see. It may just be a matter of rearranging my priorities a bit; and a little attitude adjustment… Painting strikes me as tiring at the moment and I'd rather be crawling into bed and indulging in a bit of video valium, i.e. pointing my eyes at tv and just vegging out. Butta iffin I'm gonna jump one way or the other with both feet into Painting-A-Day, (or not), ah figures ah should sample it in it's full flavor, tired an' all. (There'll be plenty of times I'll be tired and'd rather not do it.)

Time to fire-up the webcam. (For those unfamiliar with the StudioCAM, you can get there from here. Just click on the StudioCAM link at the far right of the screen.)

Okay, so these times are real CDT tmes, not Blogger times.

10:05 p.m. I laid out the cash for a week's worth of small, 6x6 and 5x7 inch canvases. What you're seeing is all those little buggers getting gessoed. BRB.

10:25 Now to put the background in on that little canvas.

10:44 Cool. First coat on. Now to let it dry.

10:49 Second coat on. Chose a raw umber right out of the tube. Now will add a bit of black to suggest shadow and add interest to the background.

11:13 The fun's begun. Got the basic shapes down and now adding highlights.
The trouble with acrylics is that if you brush over a spot that's not quite dry, the paint lifts instead of mixing with the paint you're applying leaving a blank spot. So now we'll have to wait AGAIN. Pfft.

Midnight. Okay then. :) Almost finished... The Artist's Apple.

12:25 a.m. Signature on. Fin.

Hey, that wasn't so bad! It actually looks like an apple too. (Why am I always so surprised when my paintings look good?)

Okay folks, now I get to eat my subject :)

That's a wrap.

Laters.

To Do, Or Not To Do...

At Acre's Edge
14x11" Acrylic

Okay. So just finished(?) the small painting I've been doing today as a test run, (above), trying to decide if the 'painting a day' thing would be something I'd like to do; something that could realistically be done with honor. I mean, every day?

Anyway, been considering it.

At Acre's Edge is 14x11 inches, and the paintings done for the 'Painting A Day' movement are quite a bit smaller - in the neighborhood of 5x7" or smaller - usually - and simple. And now I know why! Sheesh. Something I imagined taking only a few hours turned into a major project. And I'm not exactly thrilled with the results, rushing the painting to completion like I did. I don't even know if I'll sign the thing.

(I know... crappy image. I still haven't nailed how to get decent images of my work, short of taking a lousey photo like above, or scanning 'em on an 8x14" scanner and doing a bunch of jiggery-pokery trying to get the pieces to fit together.) (Bad, bad color in that image above.)

About The Painting
It's about the back-end of a row of old houses that butt-up against the edge of some farmland along Hwy 218. You can find them on the right as you head south toward La Porte City from Waterloo. I'm often traveling that stretch of highway toward nightfall, and if you can catch 'em at just the right time of day, the orange light of sunset hits the back of those white houses and they seem to glow an orangish white in the blue-gray of everything else that surrounds them. (From a photo taken before the snow'd disappeared.)

I'm outta here.

Have a better one!

Cheers.

Lessee What Happens

An artist's blog? What could possibly be said? Welp, let's see what happens...

Cheers!