"The Kitchen Cloth and Tomatoes"

6x8, oil on canvas board

During our vacation in Japan, the house we stayed in had some cotton dishcloths hung up by the sink. Just normal, everyday, household items. But one of them was this simple blue cotton piece with a white design (also in the painting from two posts ago). So normal, but so gorgeous, and with what sure looked like hand stitching at the edges. I found some warm-colored tomatoes to contrast with the cool blue, and arranged them and, well, here it is.

Now, you have to understand that I was painting in a room with one central light. I put the items on a chair, closed the curtains (I couldn't see the lake!), and blocked the remaining light by hanging a jacket across the back of it (the chair). It was a bit dark, but fun. The wood of the chair (here masquerading as a table) was actually more gray and weathered than this. Isn't weathered wood beautiful?. But I couldn't seem to mix the wood color.

What I paint seems to be a combination of the intimate (which I love) and the graphic (which I also love). I have no idea if this makes sense or not. But, as I've said before, this painting thing is weird. For most of my life I've gotten by on the strength of my brain and logic. Painting makes me pay attention to internal urges shaped by what I want and like. It's just not something I'm used to. Cool!

When we left, I bid a fond farewell to the kitchen cloth and left it to live out its kitchen destiny.

Study: "Mount Myoko"

8x10, oil on canvas board

We just got back from vacation here. I swear, this mountain has been painted by millions of people through the years because she's just so photogenic. For me, it was a beautiful day, but also painting her was sort of Manifest Destiny, since my Mom had painted her many years ago. Very satisfying. I also took pictures and might try to turn this into a larger work.

"Japanese Figs"

6x8, oil on canvas board

[10.17.2008 update: Posted a better picture.]

We're on vacation in Japan, where I was born and spent my early childhood. I found this wonderful dishcloth with a traditional-style print on it, and thought it would be a good background for some delicious figs I found. You'll see it appear in another post soon. Sadly, we leave tomorrow.

"The Square Vase"

6x8, oil on canvas board

This is another of those setups where your mind fools your eye. The vase actually has a lot more foreshortening, so it tapers more towards the bottom. But when I painted it that way, it looked wrong. And, frankly, ultimately art must trump reality.

Also, it was a bit of a stretch to paint something that orange. I wanted to set the purpley-pink flowers against it.

"Glowing Vase"

6x8, oil on canvas board

I haven't been painting much recently because I've been doing too many shows. I'm still searching for that balance. I did this one a few weeks ago, though. I got several of these little vases in southern France, outside Avignon, at the glassery de la pape (I don't remember how to spell it). It was a magical trip, in a beautiful area of the country, and I'd love to go back. Anyway, I really liked the way the light shone through this one, but I couldn't get it to look like it until I added yellow. And those highlights in the foot of the vase really did look that bright. Sometimes it's hard to believe your eyes.

"Overlooking"

6x8, oil on canvas board

It's getting towards the end of the month and I have a few more paintings to post. I've been taking time off from painting, partly because I'm in my third show of the year and it's intense, but also party because I had required myself to paint daily, and it was becoming less fun. I'm looking for that balance in myself where painting is fun, and perhaps a discipline, but not forced. Nor do I want to wait for inspiration; that sometimes comes after you start. So I'm working on the balance: how do I balance my non-painting time among family, friends, dog, hobbies, home maintenance, exercise, reading, recharging? How about painting time if that includes setting up and managing a web site and sales channel? That's a lot, even without a pesky day job. I'm appreciating artists more and more. Imagine leading a painting studio and managing apprentices!

Now, this painting was supposed to be about the color of the flowers and of the apricots. They were identical, and it spoke to me. Then it turned into being about the shadows of the flowers on the apricots. Elsewhere in this blog, I've quoted David Leffel, who says that each painting needs to be about something. Maybe it's the emotion, if that's how you paint. But it can also be about looseness, or the color, or the light. Or the fabric texture or the perspective. Anything. I like the composition on this, and the shadows and the highlights in the glass. But I see a few things to work on.

"Lift"

6x8. Oil on canvas panel. Sold.

I love the way that the wildflowers have this leggy quality. Their stems are slender to the point of being thread-like, but they can still lift the flower way up. I'm also really enjoying some simple glass containers I bought recently. I bought a batch last year when I was enamored of the idea of painting pictures of cut glass. Now, not so much. The reflections and patterns are complicated enough to me without facets.

This palette is also a little different for me. The colors are kind of pastel, which I don't normally do, and there's a lot of green, which I also don't always do. Interesting. But the composition and shadows are things I love. Here's the in-process picture:


It's kind of cool that you can see the shadows and stems, and some of the flowers, but not the vase. I keep finding things I like about my paintings before they're done. I'm not sure what to do with this yet, but I should figure out what that's about.

"Dappled Light"

8x10, oil on canvas board

I mentioned a few posts ago that I joined a local plein air painting group. I did this a few weeks ago (I've been busy!) and kind of like the serenity of it. I was going for the contrast of the sun through the wooden fence, and the shadows of the cross bars. But I rather like the patch of sunlight on the wheat grass (OK, the weeds) on the left.

And now that I've done this, when I go hiking (as I often do), I look at the trail and shadows with a funny little sense of recognition. Yeah, I know those colors and patterns. When our world becomes source material, we look at it differently. I've designed and painted some sets, and the same thing happened: I was always looking around to understand how to represent something. Ivy, urns, rock walls. I became visually aware of them.

"Overflowing"

6x8. Oil on canvas board.

Wildflower season is down to the very last few flowers around here. I wanted to capture a bit of that sense of explosion, the way wildflowers don't grow in neat, tidy rows with every bit just so. The challenge on this one, frankly, was painting around the flowers (leaves, stems) with the dark background color. I love cutting in and letting a little of the base color show through (if it's not white), but it can look contrived if it takes too much effort. Also, it took courage for me not to refine the pitcher more. I wanted to perfect the curves and the shadows, but decided to let go. So, no, this doesn't look polished, but there's a slapdask appeal to it.

"Reaching"

6x8. Oil on canvas board.

I haven't been posting much the last few weeks, but I've been painting. I think I've been desperately trying to fit in paintings of spring wildflowers before they go away, while in final rehearsal for a show (I also do theater).

In this piece I was trying to paint more loosely. Of course, so many artists try to do that that we should just make it an acronym or number it or something: Artist's Goal 21-A. :) This one does a fair job of it, especially in simplifying the reflections on the glass. Below is the work when it was part way through. As usual when I do an underpainting, there's a devil-may-care noisiness to it that I like.
I wonder how many artists have tried to figure out how to keep that freshness? The nice thing about this particular draft is that it almost works as a composition. Nice trick, and I wish I'd planned it.

In other news, I live in Northern California, and we have a fierce start to the wildfire season, with more dry lightning coming this weekend. There's a constant smell of smoke in the air, and that's likely to continue for another week. At first it was creepy and felt dangerous. Well, we are tracking the fire reports, thanks in part to a Yahoo group devoted to our area, and we're having our shrubbery cut back. But also, now that sense of danger has settled, I'm wondering if I can paint the amazing visual effects the smoke is adding to the landscape.