"Caldera"

20x20x1.5", oil on canvas

I've been studying with Melinda Cootsona the last month or two. She's a marvelous teacher who does abstracts and figurative abstracts, both of which I'm interested in. Her classes are small -- maximum of four people -- and held in her studio. Because of the small size, she's able to really see how we work, and help with the process. For example, the other day I got snarled in poking at a specific part of a painting, and it didn't improve? She could see that I needed to change something, and suggested that I use a bigger brush. Boom! I was past it.

The painting on this page came from a process that she works with: You start by building an abstract painting, adding layers and depth and richness. Then, if you can find the suggestion of a figure in it, you can make your painting into a figurative abstract. On the other hand, you might find that you like the abstract that you did. This was one of the latter.

"As If"

12x12x2", acrylic and mixed media on board

I've mentioned the awesome Stella Zhang, whom I've taken textured abstract classes with. I think this was one of my first works with her. I came into the class with all the subtlety of a Hawaiian shirt, and she toned me down. Now, some people in her classes would like to use more color, but I do get the point: If you have too much color, you obscure the texture.

I decided to include the figure below so you can see that I put the texture material around the outsides, too.

"Yin Yang"

12x12x1.5", acrylic, pigment powder, and rubber gloves on canvas

One of the fun things about the textured abstract class I took was that anything could become part of a work of art. In this case, I had some rubber gloves such as artists use to protect their hands when painting, and I played with arranging them on a canvas. This arrangement reminded me of the Yin Yang symbol, and also a circle, which I've used in paintings before. I went over the top with white pigment powder in a solution of white glue and water.

"Network"

36x36x0.75" acrylic, pigment powder, and mixed media

This one has cool texture. It's kind of a part of history, for me. A couple of years ago I had been doing my small oil still lifes, mostly about 6x8", for a year or two, and wanted to go bigger. So I took a workshop with Robert Burridge. (I wrote about this before, so sorry for the repeat.) In the instructions sent out, Burridge said that if students really wanted to challenge themselves, they should bring ten canvases that were about 36x36". TEN! So I did. I didn't touch them for the first day and a half, but then I dove in and, by the middle of the fifth day had filled nine of them. This was one. So I'm fond of it. FYI, the texture is made by tissue from the hotel room. Heehee!

However! I wasn't sure I liked how it came out. So I took it to one of my textured abstract classes with Stella Zhang, who does amazing work. I simplified it, using paint and adding pigment powder mixed with white glue. Powder has the benefit that it sinks into the texture, where paint covers the entire surface. Eventually the wonderful texture emerged, and it only needed a focal point, which came from the black drip in the middle. It's pretty cool looking. If you feel like it, try clicking it to see the texture and subtle colors.

"Three Sixteenths"

8x8" couched masonite board, acrylic paint, screws, leather cord

I haven't posted much in a while, but it seems like it's time to share a few things I've done. I have a fondness for abstraction, texture, and found art. So, while most of this isn't found art, the leather did come from a belt I unraveled.

One of the things I found interesting about this is that the same rules of composition apply here: value, focal point, line, temperature, etc., etc. I was also pleased that the dripped lines of paint are about the same width as the leather cord.

It's a fun piece, and made it to my wall.

"Pipe"

OK, this one is a little unusual. I had put down a layer of crinkled paper, then painted it green and red, then went over that in black, then sanded it down so the colors appears as spider lines. I've reproduced it pretty big so you can see that.

But then I popped a hole in the canvas. Not a large one, but an interesting one. And it was pretty close to the center. I talked to my teacher and we looked through the random materials I brought, and chose the pipe and the chain. I put the pipe through the canvas and adhered it on the back with some very strong glue, so it's stuck pretty tight. The chain is screwed to the wooden frame in back, so it's pretty secure, too.

So, this is what it looks like up close. You can see that I framed it.

Here it is from a distance, hanging on a wall in my house. I like it that the chain is long enough to puddle on the floor. The dimensions are 17.75" x 21.5" including the frame, but not including the chain. It leans out from the wall a bit, which lets the chain hang free.

"Ambiguous"

26x17" (diptych of 12x16 panels, with frames), oil and marble dust on canvas panels

For this piece, I decided to use canvases that weren't working and see what I could do with them. It's a fun exercise. You have to separate yourself from the actual content, but still use what you can. So, the earlier painting shows through here in the browns and purples on the left and bottom. But the ghost piece that I like the best is the orange circle on the right. It adds mystery and subtlety.

The other thing that I like -- since I love organic shapes and gestures -- is an area on the far left. I deposited some marble paint and marble dust, with the intention of moving it where I wanted to. Then I went "Eep!", caught myself, and stopped, leaving the paint as I deposited it.

I think this one is going on a wall at home. It's a strange thing, but mostly I don't do that. Do you put up art that you do?

"Penance"

 30x40x1.5", oil and burlap on gallery-wrapped canvas

My prior post showed the first version of this painting, which I did with cardboard used for texture. I explained why I swapped in burlap (synopsis: oil and paper don't mix). This is the outcome. What do I think? There's been both loss and gain: It lost was something gestural, something in the moment, something primitive. But it gained a simpler, more compelling, composition. If you want to see the texture up close, you can click it.

And it feels right to have fixed it. In that prior post I debated whether we owe our buyers a painting that could last for generations. Not sure. So, I can't say my decision is right, but it sure feels right. And that's what painting is about for me: Doing what feels right, not what I think is right.

I'm interested in why people make art. Sometimes it's because you have to. Or it's about interpreting what we see. Or creating interesting textures. Or making a political statement. Or because it keeps you sane. Or... For me, I want to put something on canvas that's real, that's from the gut. And it seems to take a mix of head and heart to do that.

I'd love to hear why you paint.

Oil and cardboard

24X30x1.5", oil and cardboard on gallery-wrapped canvas

One of the classes I'm taking is about textured abstracts. I love the class, and am having a great time. This week the teacher suggested that, before I start the painting, I make a textured foundation using cardboard. I was hesitant, since I'm painting in oils (well, with marble powder), and I've heard that you shouldn't mix them. But I figured I could learn something.

What came out? This! And I really like it!

Later, at home, I researched the combo. I found web sites that said you should always gesso paper first, but they didn't give resources. I found a few artists who do use paper in their base layer under oil. And finally I checked my Artists' Handbook by Ralph Mayer. Ralph says that no oil paintings on unprimed paper have survived the centuries. Since Ralph's book is a standard, I'll buy the data. So, no, it's not a good process for the long haul.

Here's my quandary. Now what do I do? Ralph says it has thirty or thirty-five years. I'll probably never be all that famous so it probably won't get saved by a conservator. But I gotta do one of the following: sell it as is, keep it as is, or remove the cardboard. I can't sell it in good conscience, and I'm not convinced I want it around forever, so...

Sigh. Do we owe our buyers a work that will last thirty years or a hundred years?

Anyway, if I'm going to peel off the cardboard, I should do it while the paint is still workable. I'm thinking I'll replace it with burlap (not identical, but also textured and earthy) and then play with that. If I'm lucky, the added experimenting will add richness.

What to do about the class? I should either take texture material that works with oil, or switch back to acrylics. Hey, I've been using marble powder, and I'm told it works with acrylics, so maybe they'll be workable more like oil. We'll see.

"Finish Line"

20 x 24 x 1.5", oil on gallery-wrapped canvas

Another in the series of oil abstracts that I did during one week. Besides paint, I used oil crayons and whatever tool I could find: palette knives, ceramics molding tools. I do find it interesting that there's a trend in recent decades toward abstracts with a band of dark and a band of light. My suspicion is that the composition is so simple that it then lets other elements emerge, like texture or gesture.