Unfinished Pieces

My studio is part museum, part graveyard. Sitting silently under tables and behind my easel are pieces yet to be finished. They are unfinished parts of my brain, images still too beautiful to imagine that I can be worthy of them. If you listen closely, the Ooooo's and Aaahhh's of the framed pieces on the walls are almost drowned out by the silent breathing of each unfinished piece waiting to be rediscovered. They are real to me, with voices and feelings. They remind me to keep going, and not to give up. My goal is to give them voice, to discover the parts of me that can make them come alive, the parts of me that were vivid long ago when I started them.

How to Keep the Faith

I have two teenagers. Need I say more? Time is gold when it comes to showing them how much you care. Regardless of the incessant cries of  "That's not fair!" and "You're the meanest mom in the world!" you remind yourself that when they are older they will realize the sacrifices you made. Right? Right. The glory is bittersweet.

And my mind flows back to my art. The beautiful music is creates in my life starts to play in the back of my mind. All the pretty colors swirl around in my head. That is my peaceful, happy place. My mind is drawn to my studio time and time again. Although peaceful, it can be stressful. 

Thinking about the art experiences and creativity that I miss when I'm wrapped up in everyone's schedules, the loss of practice, and what that might do to my future artistic endeavors, scares me. It truly scares me. What if I put so much of myself into my family that the time it takes away from my art ruins my talent for good? Definitely stuff to ponder. 

But in the end, I shrug and think, "I'll have to have something to hold on to when my kids are gone." And the patience sets in, and I turn off the light in my studio to spend time playing video games with my son and basketball with my daughter. There are many different kinds of art. My children are my most beautiful creations.

Sometimes the canvas has to wait.

Networking is Essential

It becomes very difficult to carve out time for myself when there are kids to feed, a husband to love, a house to take care of, and an art business to maintain. Half of me enjoys the complete personal satisfaction I get from painting, while the other half of me is constantly thinking, "How do I make this art a business?"

Like most people, I have the drive to do what I enjoy while getting paid to do it. It's hard to be patient in a world where immediate gratification is a constant.  About once a month, I volunteer my time at the Topeka Art Guild. I've only been a member for 3 months, but I recognized a camaraderie between members that I had been searching for a long time. There is a drive to do what's best for the artist, whether it's sales, tips, tools, experienced help, classes ... you name it. The members here will do anything they can to help you through whatever it is that's hanging you up in your art world. 

Since I joined, I have learned tricks to use in oil painting that I haven't found in books, what weekend art workshops are close AND affordable that I couldn't find online, and who to call when I need advice on whatever medium I'm working with at the time. It's like a classroom full of teachers, instead of students. And I can access them at any time because they all are willing to share what has helped them in the past. 

Networking has made me a better painter overall. Promoting myself by volunteering to work the art guild has not only allowed me to give back to those who so graciously offer themselves to me, but has given me a glimpse into the eyes of those who buy from my work. The perk? I get to point them to my artwork in the process.

Following the Rules

Now I know there are artists out there who paint to their own tune. They can pick up a brush at any time, conjure up a great picture in their head, and go. They forgo technique and training and create a fantastic piece that sells for thousands. Sadly, that is not me. 

This past weekend I dedicated myself to my creativity. I drew and shaded, came up with a number of great ideas for my canvas, and sat frustrated while I attempted to piece together on paper what I saw so beautifully in my head. If I hadn't been so calm at the time, I would have thrown that drawing pad across the room. Ever felt like that?

Well, good news. We are not the only ones. Like most artists, famous or not, painting with a sketch or picture in front of you is a must. Not only do you maintain perspective when your mind takes you in so many directions, you also give your paintbrush purpose. I needed a great picture I could follow. Realizing I couldn't copy someone else's image because that would just be stealing, I remembered this great shot I took with my camera last summer. Hallelujah for my grocery store's print-in-seconds kiosk! What a life saver.

So now I have purpose, my color-blocking has begun, and I am on a roll. Here's what I've done so far:

It's a 30" x 40" canvas, in oil, and I'm feeling really good about it. My hope is that it turns out good enough that I might actually win something in the Kansan's Paint Kansas competition. Wish me luck. I wish you luck too. Maybe we'll see each other there.

Art Intensives

If I had the money, and the time, I'd attend intensive art workshops at least twice a year. There's a great one at Ghost Ranch in Georgia O'Keeffe's New Mexico, and another workshop in Halsey, Nebraska. I've never been to either, though I look at their websites all the time with longing.
So this weekend I have decided to create my own Art Intensive. I checked out some books from my library on technique, and I've got my Yo-Yo Ma cd's ready to go. When the sun comes up, I'm heading into my art studio to tune in to my creative genius. Anyone who knows me will tell you that I don't do anything without a plan and an end result already sketched out ahead of time. At the end of today, I hope to have two or three good paintings for the Kansan's Paint Kansas competition that will draw people's attention to our beautiful state ... and maybe win me some cash for a trip to Ghost Ranch.

Composition Is Hard

And yet, easy to learn the basics. I encourage you budding artists out there to do a composition a day. If you want to run a race, you train. You have to do the same with your art. Learning different techniques in art doesn't just happen overnight. Practice, practice, practice.

Composition technique with pencil: Create a viewfinder out of a notecard. Cut a 2" by 2" square in the middle of it. Find a still-life view that catches your eye. If you can't find a natural one, make one. Prior to holding up your viewfinder, squint your eyes to see if the contrast is defined. Yes? Then find a good frame of it through your viewfinder, and sketch it in color blocks, using only three different shades of gray with your pencil. Can't find defined contrast? Pick a different view until you do.

Creating base composition is the first step to layering, and layering brings definition. The second layer is for shading, the third is for details.

This afternoon I got comfortable on my bed and sketched an area of my bedroom window. It was a small area, but gave the picture quite a kick that I fancied I could illustrate kids books. This composition a day thing is really going to raise my confidence level in what I can achieve in art. Join me?

Tapping In To The World Outside

Maybe it's because I'm an artist, and my focus is on creativity, that I shy away from computers and the internet. My brain screams out for more interesting pursuits than typing. But where painting awakens my spirit and tells of things I cannot express, writing a blog can create relationships within the artistic community. Like many artists, it's easy to hole up in a room somewhere for hours and paint, and put aside that important piece of you that needs companionship. For that reason alone, I blog.