The first class (love the sound of that) is on making bookmarks. Here’s samples of some (just so you’re clear that we’re not bookmarking websites).
You can make your own bookmark to tuck into a book you’re gifting someone. Leave a space to write the name of the book, the author, and favorite things about the book you’re reading or the gifted book receiver is reading.
The last house I owned was a log home; large with a wonderful studio, where I spent a good portion of my day. In that room, I edited film, did photography, read, painted, taught art, hosted Bible Study groups, framed finished art projects, watched movies, and spent a lot of time entertaining friends and family. The cabin was also a bed and breakfast. Many of the guests gravitated to my studio, where I often invited them join me at the long table and handed them some paper and colored pencils or art pens. “Lets do art”, I’d say. The room was comfortable and occupants immediately felt at ease. While learning some little art task, they would tell me about their dreams in life. I loved being there. I loved the people who visited. I was comforted by the place.
Now I’m a grey nomad. I didn’t decide to do that on a whim, although, once the decision was made, it was put into action quickly. A lot of thought, over many months, went into my decision. Thought and research. I talked about all that in previous posts.
When you get a good idea, it just sort of refuses to leave. Especially if it’s a great idea.
Here I am now, two and a half months into my adventure; my idea turned into a little home for myself.
Right now I, my little home, and Sophia are visiting friends in Ohio. This is our first trek and I admit I was a wee bit anxious at first. Okay. Maybe for the entire drive. Would I be able to find a gas station I’d fit into with my rig? How long would it take? Did I miss a turn, because it felt like nothing was familiar? Oh, look. I recognize that. No missed turn. Would I be able to back into the driveway at my destination, in the dark? But here, at last, we are.
I’ll spend a week here, heading back to Pennsylvania Saturday. From then until early November, life will become a comfortable routine of campground life. I have a summer job in the office at the Yogi Bear’s Jellystone Campground in Quarryville, Pennsylvania. Yogi is a large, busy place with lots of amenities and guests. At one time or another every single guest passes through the office. The RV is parked at another campground nearby. Both locations are nestled in the woods, surrounded by Amish farms and roadways are shared with horse drawn carriages.
The comforts of RV life? I’m comforted by this small environment. My art/computer desk faces a large window that looks out on summer scenes serenaded by a plethora of birds. My art table itself is a comfort to me. It’s made from a table I bought from a second hand shop. The legs were discarded when it was put in here, but it fits perfectly.
Lately I feel ready to change the way I do art. In this limited space its more practical to work on small projects, using perhaps colored pencils, pastels, and watercolor. What I’ll do with the little projects, I have no idea. Art has been my voice, a way of communicating my heart to the world around me. The message has changed and it isn’t clear what new messages I’d want to paint. The bigger question – do I have anything to say that anyone would want to hear?
In the meantime, here I am. Cooking meals for myself in my little corner kitchen.
Spending time in my corner art studio
and gazing out the window at whatever scene is there at the moment
Comfort is a process; a niche to find and settle into. The sentimental, comforting things I keep must be settled on, keeping in mind the weight they add vs the joy they bring.
In the kitchen my mom’s recipe box sits next to the a favorite basket, on the counter by the window.
So there you have it. No matter where you live, you can be comforted by the little things in life.
When I begin, with my mind I see a masterpiece, but with my heart I see a dose of fear. No matter how many pieces of art I create, when it comes right down to it, I’m afraid this time I’ll fail. There have been small pockets of time when I’ve had art in galleries or perhaps in a competition. For the most part, however, I’ve been a quiet artist; keeping it to myself. Art is a language that I’m still learning to speak. I believe in my art and never feel I’ve learned all there is to know about it. Perhaps the reason I haven’t mastered it is because I keep interrupting myself, getting off track, or giving up because its too hard. I want it badly so I can never turn away from it for very long.
Because I never create two identical pieces of art, each one is ground breaking. Each one is yet another learning experience. If my reason for creating it isn’t firmly set, I’ll never complete the piece. I won’t have the discipline to set out on the journey of creating something out of nothing, of sticking with it even when I doubt myself or the message I’m trying to express.
I sit down, take up my tools and begin to sketch something out. A portrait needs to resemble the subject and capture their essence; their character. The sketch itself needs to lay down the bones of the project. Filling them in won’t lead to a very good likeness if those lines weren’t laid down just so in the first place. Each and every project I do is a very first time to do that particular project. I can’t look up how I did it last time. There is no last time. Maybe this, I tell myself, will be the one I don’t get right. Maybe it will be the one that makes me give up.
I’m currently reading a book called Bird By Bird – Some Instructions on Writing and Life by Anne Lamott. She says pretty much the same thing about writing. In a writing project, we bring with us high expectations and aspirations. We give up when we see its going to be harder or take more time than we ever dreamed. Her book, so far, is about how to keep going…and why.
I’ve done a few colored pencil pieces over the years, but each one stretches my ability. The first few were for a children’s book, but the author lost interest, so the book was put aside. I did those first pieces on a paper called “mi tiente’s”, made by Canson. Working on black paper means a whole new way of working with colored pencil.
To get fine detail, you have to keep your pencil as sharp as it can possibly be. The tip needs to get down into those pits of the paper. Paper might look smooth, but it has tiny pockets that are just big enough for a very sharp pencil point. A microscopic view of anything at all reveals miniscule pockets and textures on pretty much everything in the world. Even marble under a microscope has craters in it’s surface.
I work in very small circles with my pencil, keeping the pressure as light as I can. My dad taught me to do that when I was a child. If you use back and forth lines the overlap of the pencil will show.
The square on the left was done with quick strokes, though with consistent pressure. You can see where each section overlaps the previous one. You can see where the colored pencil didn’t go with quick side to side strokes with a light touch.
The middle square was done with more pressure, a frequently sharpened pencil, but still back and forth strokes. The overlaps are still visible, but perhaps not as much. The holes of texture are there, but the increased pressure of the pencil filled some of them in. You applied so much pressure that it will be more difficult to add more layers, such as a different color. These pencils are wax based. The more layers you apply, the harder you press, the shinier the surface and then future layers will just not stick. Your pencil will slide across this shiny surface like a skater on ice.
The third example on the paper is a small circle. I wanted to move on, so only did enough to make my point. I sharpened the pencil to a needle sharp point. I held the pencil as upright as I could so the point would go into the pits in the paper. I then made very tiny circles with a light and even pressure. It filled more of the pits, is consistent looking, and there are no overlapping lines. I am in complete control. The added benefit is that its so light that I can add several more layers before reaching a stopping point. Don’t lose heart. There are ways to get around not being able to add more pigment.
For this project I started with an overall light layering of color. Next I’ll begin to work in other color areas, smoothing them together. In the piece above, I started with an almost white pencil, which was the lightest color in her face. I got impatient and began adding warm colors where they were needed. It didn’t ruin the piece, but I realized the lightest color was too light, making her look ghost-like.
If you look very closely at a colored pencil drawing, you can see the little pockets. The black line down the right side is the edge of another piece of black paper. It protects the project from the oils that are naturally in my skin. I can rest my hand on the extra piece of paper..
The lumpy spots you see in the image are tiny bits of the waxy material the pencil is made of. When you step away from the image, it appears all is well and its lovely. Shining a bright light on the work emphasizes the shininess and it will appear like a whole different work.
You can spray a workable fixative that allows you to add more layers to the project.
Following the directions on the can, I was able to continue working on the Blue Crab.
I’ve learned to use the very tip of the blade to gently scrape at tiny sections. It removes the waxy buildup of the pencil. You must only do this in small areas. If you’re not careful, you can ruin the paper AND the project.
Another thing I do from is to use a small eraser pencil to remove a small area of pigment. After that I can usually rework that area to my liking. I use the eraser on the right for larger areas.
As I work, adding colors and getting my values correct, I take chances. A choice might look horrible, even gruesome. Sometimes I erase the risky color. However, I find that if I step away from the piece, I may feel differently about it later on. I might take a nap (I love naps!), a break to run an errand or do something entirely different. When I return, I see it with fresh eyes. There may be obvious things to correct, but some things I hadn’t liked earlier, I now like.
Yet another option is to keep going. Perhaps its the color or one eye could be shaped wrong or too large. Maybe it’s in the wrong place or slanted incorrectly. Maybe the lips are all wrong in the way I rendered them.
Art is about using your eyes to really see the thing you’re trying to work from. If you’re working on the eye and it just doesn’t seem right, you may be doing something I call “prejudice”. You look at the subject and say to yourself, “Oh, I know how to draw an eye, because all eyes alike (not so, but you’re brain is trying to mess with you, get you off the hook). You immediately begin drawing without really looking at the subject. Every eye IS different and the left eye might be slightly different than the right eye. You can’t assume they all look the same. Look. Really look. Look at the slant of the lid, the shadows and highlights, etc. Make the eye THAT person’s eye and not some generic eye. also remember that faces are not usually symmetrical. One ear may be lower than the other or an eye lower or less open. Again, look at the subject. Observe. Learn to really “see”.
I do spot checks on the dimensions and sizes. Everything seems drawn correctly. I just keep going. I’ve learned that this is where I have to trust…to have faith in the project and in my skills.
This piece is far from over. I wish I could sit and work on it far longer. I grow tired when I work with colored pencil. It takes a lot of concentration. I’m making tiny circles with such light pressure I’m not always sure my pencil is even touching the paper. Covering a small area with that first coat can take several hours. You might begin to wonder why you took on this project. Don’t give up. Projects done using colored pencil will be around for a very long time. Maybe for centuries. They may likely outlast the most famous oil paintings. The surface of a painting will eventually dry as it ages and tiny cracks will appear. Surfaces done in colored pencil do not dry out and crack..
Taking risks and trying what seem like an unlikely color combinations can drain my energy a bit as well. Its as if I’m holding my breath when I experiment with colors. Yet color can add so much life to the subject. I have a large selection of colored pencils are various “flesh” colors. Yet, the shadows in a face or a hand aren’t only those flesh colors. The shadow side of a face can have a bit of violet or blue in it. Colored pencils don’t come in an infinite number of colors. With watercolor, I can simply combine colors to make exactly what I want. Colored pencil doesn’t work that way.
Yet look at all the colors I used in the shadows of this painting. I feel it brings life to the work; to those shadows, to the subject.
Before choosing what medium to use for these projects, I tested wax based pencils, oil based pencils, and pastel pencils. I thought the oil based pencils would be my choice. They have a softer look and, by dipping the tip into mineral spirits you can blend the pigments. I thought pastel pencils might be good for applying color to large areas. Some of my choices are based on the surface I’m using. If I were using white paper, I could have laid down a layer of watercolor to get my base coat. I’m using a Canson Black Art Board and watercolor as the first layer didn’t seem practical against the black surface.
I admit that I went into this project thinking it would be small and completed quickly. I envisioned it taking eight hours or less to complete. The one project below took eight hours of work. However, that piece ended up being maybe only three inches high and two inches wide. The piece above is 8 x 10.5 inches. Capturing the likeness of two people is different from capturing the likeness of a pet.
Maybe it was just the pressure of meeting my client’s expectations. When they send me a photo to work from, its usually a photo that was taken a while ago. When they see the finished art, they’re thinking of what the person is like right now. The dog below looked basically the same at one year as he did at ten years.
When I took the photographs below, the lighting varied, changing the look of the art noticeably. I’m happy to say that the in-life version far exceeded my expectations. I was proud to sign my name and put it in the mail to my client. I learned a lot from this project and future projects will now include a bit less doubt on my part.
The trust comes in where I try a color (perhaps a shadow) or leave out the background. I think its looking like a disaster; that I need to throw it out and start all over again. If I just keep going, taking breaks from it, not giving up, I suddenly find that I’ve crossed a threshold. I’ve gotten to the other side of “NO! This isn’t working!” to “Hey! Its looking really good!” Don’t give up. The beginning is always the hard part. You’re not into the project yet. Keep going. You’ll find yourself owning it and looking forward to continuing. You’ll look forward to more projects using the same techniques you just developed. So please…don’t give up!
The little bear is me. Its me before I turned left when I should have gone right. The one who wrote stories about Barbie and Ken in books I made with folded sheets of notebook paper. I can see myself sitting at the desk in my room; that wonderful desk that could be a playhouse with a blanket thrown over top, a place to escape into writing and drawing. I don’t know how long that desk was there or why it was there, but it changed me for all time and remains a lifeline that links me to that best of who I was. The desk is long gone, though I think that if I search long enough I might find something like it. I have seen one like it on the internet, but it is now worth over a thousand dollars.
When you pull out the drawer, it has a lid; a writing surface. It can be folded up away, revealing a storage area underneath. Somehow, I believed that what was stored in that compartment under the writing surface was hidden from everyone. A secret place. I’m sure it wasn’t, but I believed it; wanted it to be. On the rear side of that writing surface were slots for pencils to lay and a round hole for an ink well. Can you imagine. It was like a magical desk. To me, the desk was huge.
The bears are the me that was, but she’s coming back to life. In my journey to create myself anew, I’m not discarding all that I was. I’m keeping the best parts. The bear parts, I guess. Some parts of me are still a child, filled with wonder, dreams, and much hope.
I am Ren. Pleased to meet you.
I came across this painting tonight. Its in my leather portfolio case. It was framed and hung on my studio wall in a previous location. It hung there for years and years. The frame was a metal frame, the color of her apron. During all the many moves in my life, the frame got scratched. It was a custom size and would be expensive to replace. It wasn’t in inches. It was in centimeters. When we were stationed in Germany, I found the photo of two women, potato pickers, from right there in my village. I wrote to the photographer and got his permission to paint from the photo. I decided I would put each of the two women in their own painting.
The painting above is, by far, my favorite. I can’t part with it. It isn’t just a painting. Its an experience. The board I painted it on had a thin coat of something (sizing, I imagine) on it that caused the pigment to lay on the surface and dry, looking rich and alive. It was an experiment and something told me it would be amazing. I took photos of each step of the way. Painting it was almost a sensual experience. The brush laid the paint down as if it couldn’t help it; as if compelled to create a masterpiece. I’d say it was even as if the painting was already done and the board and brush and paint knew what it was to become and they performed a symphony of color, shadow, and light. Every brush stroke went down as if it was already there and the brush was just painting water over it to bring it to life. I’ve never experienced anything like it again. It was my only piece of board like that. I don’t know if its even made anymore.
I say all this because I have found an art board made by mi teintes. I have used papers by the same company. The example is one I did on a gray mi teintes paper. When I went to the store to purchase some black art board, I saw the white art board that is made to take watercolor. I’m excited to try it. One piece was approximately $6 and when the cashier handled it, I was so afraid she’d get oils from her fingers on it. She didn’t realize the significance of that. Do you?
I long to try it out. Not yet, however. I have three commissions to finish before Christmas. If I were to sit down and just get them done, it wouldn’t take long. They happen to be quite difficult. Three pieces, each containing numerous people. The pressure is on. I find myself working for a few minutes on the faces and needing to leap up from my chair and pace. I suddenly feel the urge to wash dishes or sweep the floor. Anything. I long to do anything at all, except work on that face.
When the three commissions are completed, I’ll get out the white watercolor board and see what I can come up with. Maybe by then I’ll have some idea what the subject needs to be. Is it like a carving, where the whole process is just releasing the thing trapped within the wood? Or like the painting of the the woman picking potatoes? I don’t know.