Being Weighed Down

“If you want to fly, you have to give up the things that weigh you down.” – Roy Bennett

Yesterday, neighbor Andy cleaned the back yard going down to the brook. There were new growths, fallen debris, and stubs from plants and trees cut last year. Too many trip hazards which made it treacherous for me to venture down there easily.  Now it’s all cleaned up, and he even made it so he can mow to keep the vegetation down. It looks so beautiful and inviting!

I sit here admiring the view when I look up and it makes me happy. My little oasis with the brook flowing along the back, and out front, my gorgeous flower gardens. The cardinals, orioles, catbirds, and many other birds visit the feeders (which I only put up when I’m sitting here, and I put them away every night). I love most birds.

Today’s Eric Rhoads’ blog contained the quote above and once again, someone else’s words stirs my soul and brings tears to my eyes. Something about this quote strikes me deep, and the question comes to mind: What weighs me down?

First reaction in delving into this is fear. The subject might be more than I am willing to face at this time, and once that door is open, I really wouldn’t want to shut it again.

What will I have to admit to myself if I open that door? Am I willing to explore that path? Will I act on my discoveries or just lay them aside for some other day?

And where else might this journey take me? Am I willing to go? What will change within me if I dive into this ocean? Or maybe I should be asking, “Where might I fly off to?”

The other side of my brain kicks in with all I need to do. This work, and it is work, will take me away from what I need to be doing today. There’s editing work to finish, I have unfinished projects to do, paintings to complete. Even taking the time to write this is taking me away from must-do work.

But I’ve written the quote down and, hopefully, I will explore that which weighs me down.

Overdoing it on One Project Means Not Able to Work on Another

Gardening took precedence over painting lately. Today, I managed to spend a few minutes in the studio. I hauled the big, heavy hibiscus plant outside to give me more room. Unfortunately, I overdid it these past few days and my lower back, knees, and feet hurt so bad it was painful to stand.

I even pulled the stool out from under the nearby table, but the height didn’t work. It was either too tall for me to get on or too low to work on the painting. I’m beginning to think I may need to revamp my studio to allow me to sit at the easels.

 

Drat! I don’t want to. I spent a lot of time setting up this studio, plus, I like standing to paint. It allows me to move around and back up to get a different perspective. Yeah, I admit sitting would let me in closer for better detail work, but I sit to write, so standing to paint gets me on my feet.

I concentrated on adding some darks to "Angel Pose," even some green in Leo’s fur to reflect the background (Nan’s suggestion). I played with a couple shades of orange and beigy-yellows and used a small piece of pipe insulation to blend the colors a little and remove pastel dust landing on areas I didn't want that particular color.

Unfortunately, the pain in my feet worsened making it hard to focus and as I hurried to get some progress in, I got sloppy.

In my hurry and lack of focus, I’m not happy with today’s progress. I do like the color, but I messed up with the legs. (And I still haven’t made up my mind to add the tail … I should.)

I moved over to “Winding Through Autumn” to do a little on this painting. This one is coming along nicely. I used the pipe insulation to blend/scruff up color and smooth out the areas between water and land. Again, it also removed particles that drifted onto other colors.

But … I am really contemplating setting up my studio to allow me to sit. I hate to give in. I want to work through the pain. I want to tough it out! Maybe I just have to admit I can no longer stand any length of time … and, too, I won’t need to sit all the time. 

I want to go back in the studio, but I wouldn’t be able to stand comfortably.

Carried Away Making New Garden Pathways

I’ve been wanting to create a walkway around the side of the garage to the back deck for the last couple of years. I’m tired of tracking sand in the house whenever I go out that way, plus it’d make the beauty in my yard more complete. My goal was to use the leftover stones from the front walkway to continue the look.

I got a quote last year and there was a discussion on drainage and … it just sounded so complicated … not to mention horribly costly. Talking it over with Andy, to spend that much money for a fancy walkway and patio, didn’t make sense and would be a waste of money.

We talked about simply spreading mulch and getting 16 x 16-inch stepping-stones. I realized he was right, but it was so hard to let go of that vision I had of the fancy patio. He assured me we could make it look beautiful. He was right. Plus, a fancy patio would not go with this house. It’s not like I entertain or would sit out there – the only thing I use that space for is to set up a spray-painting place to refresh my outside things. 

A few weeks went by. I’d done some online searching but hadn’t made a decision. It’s funny how it takes forever for me to make up my mind on some things, then other times (especially lately) I seem to impulse shop.

We looked at stepping-stones at Agway when I stopped to get gardening soil. Hmm, they had possibilities. Another week went by and I decided to order the stones. Andy had figured a little over 30 to do the walkway and with 40, I’d have a few extra for other projects.

I found ones I liked at Home Depot, but they charge $80 delivery. I called Agway and the ones there were the same price with only a $50 delivery charge. I ordered. Then in later conversation and to save on delivery charge, I decided to ask Spencer if he’d pick them up. He said he would, and he delivered late afternoon on May 14.

The next morning, I placed four stones to give me steps going down instead of a slope. My goal is to make level, stable surfaces for me to step and stand. Most of my gardens are on slopes. The angles of the slopes create pain in my ankles and feet and throws off my balance.

I loved how they looked, and the size was perfect for me. I can easily go up and down and if I have to stop to week (or later deadhead), I have a flat surface for stability. I did one more stone, this one leading in another direction.

By then, my back, legs, and feet were screaming. I went out and did two more after resting a bit. I found two at a time were all my body can take. The weight of these things must be around 25 pounds. (At one time that would’ve been a piece of cake.)

It’s frustrating to only be able to be out there 30-45 minutes, but I have to accept how I am. There’s no feeling “I wish I were young again” because I don’t. If I have to work in short intervals, so be it! I’m still getting out there.

By Saturday afternoon, I had 15 set. I did five early Sunday and did one out front. I’ve used 21 of the 40 stones. Ooops, looks like I need more.

Inspiration for a New Painting

May 14

I immediately fell in love with a photo Susan Nye posted on FaceBook. Something about it touched my soul, called to me. I messaged Susan, and she graciously gave permission to use the photo.

For once, I came up with a title right off the bat: “Pleasant Foggy Morning” and I even assigned it an inventory number, 20-010 (which I don’t normally do until I get the paper on the easel.) Inspiration photo courtesy of Susan Nye.

I love fog scenes and reflections. There’s something mystical and magical about fog, especially when the sun is breaking through. I quickly downloaded it into my pictures, edited it, and printed a couple copies. Printed on plain paper, the picture loses vibrancy which I plan to make up for with pastels.

I made a few initial notes. For one, I feel the sunlight on the water is too glaring like that part of the photo is overexposed. I’ll tone that down. Another challenge will be the boat. Man-made objects are not my forte, but I’m sure I can figure it out, and more notes will be made as I go along.

I so wanted to jump on it right away but had too many other things to do (not counting finishing the two paintings in process.) Later, while watching TV, I attempted an initial sketch, but I needed to see more detail … I don’t know how much will go into the painting itself, but a little more detail will help me see which direction to take.

May 15

This morning I got up feeling excited and honored to receive permission to use someone else’s photo for inspiration. I always wanted to use my own photos for inspiration, to have my work be totally by me. But now, because I don’t go out a lot, if I see pictures of beautiful scenes I can never get – like sunrises, sunsets, foggy mornings – I have to change my thinking. There’s nothing wrong with asking for permission – and I’d never do from someone else’s photo without receiving their OK.

So much of art is done in solitude, even more so in these days of social distancing. Maybe that’s why I suddenly feel happy having my attention so captivated by someone else’s photo. It feels like a collaboration, although the emotions stirring within are totally mine alone.

This photo calls to my soul and touches something deep within. I’m not sure what that is yet, but I’m sure as I get into the painting, something will come out of it. There’s sunlight, mountains, trees, water, fog, shack near the point, pier … and that sailboat and its reflection! What is it about that boat?

I am pleased to be able to say the photo is used due to the gracious courtesy of so and so. I’m evolving with my work and I’m enjoying working with other people’s photos. This is the fifth painting I will have done using someone else’s photo for inspiration. I hope I do them honor with my finished pieces.

May 13 in the Studio

After a few days of indecision on doing an alcohol wash, and finally getting feedback on my last posting that I’d done too much for a wash to work, I went back in the studio to continue.

First, I added more burnt sienna to the background using a round makeup sponge then a cotton ball. I also made more ruffles in Leo’s neck and body with the edge of the sponge. (Far from done, still getting started.)

I added more details to his face. I used Sennelier, Soho, Rembrandt, and a couple of StabilioC pencils. I think I finally got the ear tufts using Rembrandt … until I turned the stick wrong and made the hairs on the left too thick … my heart wasn’t in erasing the mistake at this point. Darn! Where’s that undo button?

I worked on getting white highlights around his eyes with the Rembrandt. I used a Soho pale yellow to lighten ruffles and outside edges. Yeah, it’s a little early yet to add lights, but it gives me encouragement to keep going; giving those hints of what’s to come.

I’m still debating wrapping his tail around the front of him. I didn’t plan to do so in the beginning. I erased a little of the possible area to help me think about it.

As always, I took a progress photo, and in looking at the photo, I’ve already made a list on what to fix and work on next.

To Do or Not Do an Underpainting

I sat at my computer this morning distracted by the shades of green popping outside. It was like a treasure hunt as my eyes searched between, beyond, and around the evergreen of hemlock boughs. Sunnier areas out back offered up greening grasses in an area not tree-covered, and the shadowed areas are sprouting the various forest-growth ground covers.

"Angel Pose" in process

I bounced back and forth between working on the gardening project and wanting to work on the latest paintings. (Yes, paintings with an S because I have two in process.) But, it’s that time of year when gardening is the stronger call – before it gets too hot and buggy.

After updating all my to-do lists (I have them categorized), I started on another piece of the gardening project which required a look-see at that particular garden. Unfortunately, I’m waiting for a phone call, so I went in the studio instead.

I’ve been debating for days whether to try an alcohol wash underpainting. Pastel artists often talk about underpaintings and the techniques and materials they use. I usually do pan pastels, but in reading and hearing comments about using an alcohol wash, I’m considering trying it.

Today I looked for my rubbing alcohol … I haven’t touched it in years and couldn’t find it in the closet with bathroom essentials. I did find odorless mineral spirits in my art supply closet, though, which is another option.

But I’m leery. I pulled out “Pastel Pointers” by Richard McKinley and read what he had to say. I went online and Googled, “What is the purpose for underpainting with pastel” and couldn’t find a direct answer. Which once more leads me to believe it’s just what individual artists choose to do or been trained to do.

"Winding Through Autumn" in process

I know paper plays a part in it and I use a smooth BFK Rives print making paper. I don’t like a lot of tooth and I prefer smooth-looking strokes. But there’s something about the blending of a wash that seems intriguing. I don’t know if I’ll attempt it on one of my paintings in process, but I may pull out an old gave-up-on painting and practice on that.

However, I’m not much into practice. I just want to get in there and do. So, time will tell what I decide.

Attempting to Stick to a Garden Plan

My mind is stuck on how to proceed with garden timelines, mapping and photos. My goal is to have all info in one place and not to be writing the same thing multiple times; I.E: in emails, journals, blogs, garden folder, etc.

The plan is the organization will help me track better what grows well here and what doesn’t. There are photos showing progress. I have timelines where I write what I accomplished. There’s the manual I started putting together five years ago telling of the plants already here, ones I’ve added … I haven’t kept up with it.

I want to have names for each garden, usually to do with some lawn décor or what’s planted there. It doesn’t help trying to incorporate five years of work into one folder. I want to have one place to go to referencing everything about my gardens.

Last year I half-haphazardly started a quick-reference chart to let me know which plants need watering, mulching, fertilizing etc. and when. Well, it’ll be a quick reference if I ever get it done, ha-ha.

I keep coming up with various ideas which tend to morph into something more creating confusion. Then I get distracted to do something else. It might be just trying to do too many gardens – broken down I have 13-14 individual areas with more planned.

I suppose if I took one garden area at a time, I’d get it done. I go outside with one plan in mind and end up doing something totally different. Then the next stint outside has me turning to something else that pops into my mind.

But I tend to overthink things – or I’ll come up with one plan. By the time I either get outside or come inside, I’ll have changes – and the more I think, the more confused I get. If I do this, then I’ll have to do that. If I do it over there, should I do it over here? And, of course, it all depends on the types of plants and their requirements.

The hardest part is, at my age and my physical abilities, I just can’t get out there, have at it, and get a project done all at once. I can only do short stints which creates another issue because the interruptions give me time to think of other ideas, so by the time I get back outside, I could even be working on something entirely new.

But it gets me outside playing in the dirt/mulch. I re-arrange and even sometimes transplant a plant from one area to another – and if I do that, then I need to change the garden maps. I love my gardens and the flowers. They add beauty to my home.

An Interesting Take on Being a Self-Taught Artist

Spots of sunlight slipping through the trees brighten a mood that has been in the doldrums the past few days. The light catches the splashes of the water rushing between rocks.

I can’t resist. I grab the camera and without putting on a coat, slip out the sliding door. The temperature is pushing 50 degrees, but the wind makes me shiver. I don’t care. I take a few photos of the brook, enjoy the view, noticing different nuances in shapes and movements and light. My little oasis.

One thing about being a self-taught artist is the excitement of new discovery. Instead of taking lessons and being taught someone else’s style and beliefs and getting inundated with a lot of info all at once, my learning is through doing, reading, and talking with other artists. It’s a slower process, but it makes discoveries more exciting.

I take in the new information when my brain says, “This is interesting, maybe I can work with this.” Sometimes I need to read or hear something mentioned more than once before I realize it’s something I could try. Or maybe, it’s just at that moment, I’m ready for the next step in my artistic evolution and the universe provides.

I like working like this. It’s part of my belief that life is a continual treasure hunt. There are those whose focus is constantly on the end goal … which is OK for them. My path isn’t so straight. I take lots of detours, get distracted by some shiny object (or thought process), or work on multiple projects at a time so one or two end up on a back burner for a while.

Sometimes I don’t even know what the treasure will be until I come across it. I may scuff what I initially think is an ordinary stone along the path until one day it rolls just the right way revealing the glimmer of a gemstone under the dirt. I may read about the same concept by more than one artist, then one day, someone says it in just a way that sparks my creative passion.

And an old analogy I’ve carried for years comes streaming back to consciousness – of me, as a little girl, running home with a handful of wildflowers shouting, “Mummy! Mummy! Look what I found!”

Getting Inspired Again

I read more in the latest Pastel Journal last night. I enjoy looking at other people’s paintings even when their styles are so different than mine. I almost always pick up a couple of tips whenever I read something of the art world.

I heard a new-to-me term – one- and two-point perspectives. Well, I knew about a one-point ... so, this morning I looked it up, copied, and printed some info to go over. Maybe it was a good thing I didn't make new drawings yesterday. Maybe I can apply new knowledge.

It's funny (or is it?), but when I settle in to draw, I'm looking at the photo and thinking about capturing what's there. At that moment, I'm not consciously thinking about perspective or composition, shapes within shapes (another term they talk about), or light. My focus is on drawing what I see and/or perhaps making a few adjustments as feels right for a better composition.

I don’t do a lot of planning ahead of time. I choose scenes that speak to me. I don’t even think about why the scene calls me in the beginning; I just know I want to paint it. I’m not necessarily focused on any one focal point, it’s usually the overall scene, colors, textures, etc.

Scenes that speak to me may include times when I will photograph a scene knowing it’s not good as a photograph, but with some adjustments, I can turn it into a beautiful painting. I have no problem with taking artistic license to add or subtract objects.

Photo editing often involves cropping for better composition, so by the time I get to the initial sketching before painting, I am ready to just draw. And, once I get into drawing and painting, I'm not thinking about any of this technical artsy stuff. I'm just focused on getting the scene on a bigger piece of paper. It’s after that, I start getting into the nitty gritty.

There’s always a part of me wanting to do things my way, in my style. I’ll admit, I’m not into practicing. I’m not into long planning and following all kinds of guidelines and rules. When I’m ready to draw and paint, I want to get right to it.

For the most part, all these years, I’ve done well. I’m pleased with what I’ve accomplished. But I always know I can be better, evolve, so I do pick up tips I’m willing to try (or I write them down then never get around to doing it as I often fall back on what’s familiar.)

Living a creative wholehearted life means knowing it is OK not to feel I have to do it like other artists. I AM OK doing it MY way! After all, I am an artist and to me, that means I CAN do it my way.

Living wholeheartedly means letting myself fully enjoy being an artist which includes the struggles along with the successes. Living creatively means I will continue to grow and evolve with my paintings.

And realizing this, writing about this, fires me up! Time to get the new sketches started.