Where Does the Money Come From?

I’ve been asking this question for years. Some of it about how the government can come up with all these programs and give away millions of dollars to different organizations, causes, and even to other countries. (OK, I know a lot of that comes from taxes.)

But I wonder, too, about all the games shows on TV. Where does all that money come from to pay the winners? Some of my favorite shows are cooking shows. (Which is funny because I don’t like to cook, and I don’t like high-end foods. I prefer simple, few ingredients, non-spicy, meals.) Many shows on Food Network give away thousands of dollars every week. How can they do that every week? (And I say every week because even though one particular show may only run a few weeks, it is then replaced with other shows.)

Two examples are “Chopped,” where they give away $10,000 per episode, and “Guy’s Grocery Games,” where up to $20,000 per episode is given away. There are many other cooking competitions, too. There’s even a “Kids Baking Championship” where the winning kid can win that amount of money.

Where does all that money come from? Do the winners really get that much money? Do contestants have to pay to get on the show but are not allowed to say so?

And then there are the appliance and tool giveaways with KitchenAid and all those other brand companies sometimes giving away high-end products. Does this mean they are making such profits off consumers they can afford to give away so much? (Yes, I know some of this is advertising products for them.)

And this is just the Food Network. There are other game shows and competitions on TV where a lot of money is given away.

It’s not like sporting events where thousands of fans buy tickets to the games. How big can a studio audience be at these TV shows?

I enjoy watching the competitions. Everyone likes to see a winner.

Contemplations

“None of us decided how we began…” – Leslie Odum, Jr., actor and a guest on “Finding Your Roots”

The statement caught my attention and I stopped listening to the program for a few minutes. Somehow, his words struck a chord in my gut. It also resonated with the conversations I’ve been having about all men being created equal, when reality is, the only equal is that all are born from a mother’s womb. After that, circumstances, situations, life, and personal choices take everyone on different paths.

 Yeah, there are some who believe we choose the parents we’re born to. I’m not sure of that. Perhaps it is true for some, but I don’t know, and I don’t have a feeling that I particularly chose the family I was born into. I don’t regret my family, of course. I love them dearly.

And I think about how we grow and what we choose. Some strike out on new adventures while others stay close to home. Some take the path of doing good while some make other choices.

Even right and wrong isn’t black and white. I’ve been wondering how people continue to do things that are wrong. Do they feel guilty? Are they proud of themselves for getting away with something or taking advantage of somebody? Do some feel it’s OK to take from those who have more than they?

I know what I feel is right and what is wrong, but not everyone has the same set of morals. And who gets to make the decisions? Just because someone holds power, does that give them right to ride roughshod over others? Does that give them permission to invade, take over, enslave, or take advantage with false advertising, promises, and lies?

And hasn’t this been going on since mankind began? Men have always warred against other men. Leaders have always gone after more territories and more “subjects” to control. When is it right and when is it wrong?

Look at history. Technology may change, but there still seems to be the same human issues no matter the era. Mankind has always sought to control. There are always reasons and excuses why they do so.

I don’t know if there’s any one answer. I contemplate current issues today and those looking to control. Sometimes I wish I could just crawl into a hole and live a simple, creative life. Things are no longer simple, though. Maybe they never have been. “Living happily ever after” is just an illusion, a fairy tale. I guess all we can do is to make our lives the best we can and hope we get through it OK. (Of course, there is what does it mean to be OK? Ha-ha.)

 

Rethinking the Use of Thumbnails for Paintings

Yesterday, my first thought was maybe I need to do more drawings to be better at painting. The attempt at a thumbnail for a new scene the night before didn’t go so well. I got lost in the detail. But I don’t want to spend a lot of time in drawing small when I want to be working on painting the scene on larger paper. Yet other artists are always touting the importance of thumbnail sketches.

Original photo supplied by Toni Syrmopoulos

 

The scene in better light to show detail

Initial drawing on 5 1/2 x 8 using vine charcoal

Second attempt using a more detailed photo and pencil

I looked up info on thumbnail sketches and copied some tips from two different sites. Oh, according to that, I’m going about it wrong. No wonder I feel I’m wasting my time. These sketches are supposed to be quick and simple… I’m being too detailed.

I need to rethink this. After all, I don’t want to use up my precious time doing a detailed drawing when I’m eager to get to the actual painting. I need to look at about this process in a different way, find my words/feelings for it. In the reading, the thumbnails are basically about shape, composition, positioning, focal points, light and shadow. Not detail. And usually only the size of a credit card. I have to wrap my head around this. Working that small doesn’t make sense to me. Plus, it takes a different frame of mind to not want to do detail… at least it is for me because I’m such a realist with my paintings.

Then there’s the issue of Rule of Thirds with the reference photo and the painting. I print the photos to image size, not full size to the paper. The reference photo printed at full page distorts the scene. However, in image size, an 8 x 10 prints around 4 1/2 x 10… numbers not easily divisible by 3. I like a more panoramic view for landscapes which means my paintings are often not the usual sized precut papers. I buy sheets around 22 x 31 inches and cut/tear them to sizes I prefer and sometimes not always the same size. My painting sizes usually average 9 x 15 inches… numbers easily divisible by 3.

I need to be able to divide by 3 that 4 ½ x 10 scene to put it to 9 x 15 also divided off to the Rule of Thirds. My mind just starts spinning and I get confused as to how to make this work. In looking at these four numbers, not counting the half size, both smaller sizes are 5 inches smaller than the bigger paper. What exactly does this mean?

And perhaps I need to be consistent in my sizes. If I could get a Rule of Thirds template for those two sizes, that could help. Of course, if I do a different size, I’d have to reconfigure.

When I’m feeling down, it’s hard to work on my paintings if I’m at a point of frustration with them, which I am currently. I know I have to push through that to feel excited again, but yesterday, I wasn’t able to do so.

Sometimes my brain overthinks itself into confusion and sadness, but that passes after awhile and the creative spark flames again.

  

Can you say “Thank you” or “I’m sorry” too much?

These two phrases, while absolutely necessary and important and needs to be said often, can lose their meaning if you say it all the time. When does it began to sound like a brush-off if said too much? After a while, does it just sound like a couple of words with no real feeling behind it?

And if you’re apologizing all the time, does that mean you are always doing something wrong that needs an apology? Do the words, “I’m sorry,” become an excuse to continue wrong behavior?

And can “thank you” be said too much? If you hear it all the time, does it get tiring? After a while, does it just sound like two words rolling off someone’s tongue with no real emotion behind it? Almost like an automatic response.

Like when asked how you are and you automatically respond, “Fine,” whether you really are or not… because, often, the question is said as a greeting, and the person saying it really doesn’t want to hear how you are truly feeling?

This makes me think about my questions and responses. I always want to be polite and respectful. I say, “Thank you,” “Excuse me,” and “I’m sorry” a lot. I ask people how they are – and when I ask, I really do want to know how they are. I don’t want a brush off response. (Of course, that’s up to them, too.)

In some respects, this is not an easy topic. There are always the first responses and the how we should act. It depends on situations, intent. Are the questions asked just out of simple politeness and a lengthy response isn’t required or expected?

There are those who always apologize and those who seldom say it or mean it.

What are your thoughts about this?

New Painting Scene Chosen

February 10, 2022: "Winter Birches," 9 x 12. I came across this while trying to decide what to do next. It was one I'd done the preliminary work on last March and never got back to it. I put this and a couple others up on the easels. 

Later, I slipped back into the studio not sure what I was going to work on. I’d worked on "Snowy Ridge Trail" earlier and didn't feel like doing more. I went to the easel holding this scene and immediately went at it.

This is actually part of a series of the same location I've been working for the past few years. This is the fifth rendition of the scene... all from slightly different angles or times of year.

Right off the bat, I noticed the paper was different. The surface was rougher making it harder to smooth areas. Good thing I had the original timeline started. This is on Canson paper which is more gritty than my usual BFK Rives.

I used a lighter color on the sky using Mount Vision then added white to the clouds using Sennelier and Mount Vision. I tried to drag the lightness down into the treetops… needs to be behind the trees.

I used a taupe colored Sennelier to add background color to the trees, used a pastel pencil to better define the ridge line and began better putting in the birch trees. I need a sharper point on the pencil. 

Two Steps Forward or Is It Two Steps Back

February 10: Has it been three days since I was in the studio? Nan and I had discussed yesterday adding extra trees to hide the messy, too-many-layers, mountainside. I began adding a couple extra trees, then took the small paintbrush, dabbed it on white pastel and dotted the mountains. This worked somewhat.

"Snowy Ridge Trail," 9 1/2 x 15 3/4, pastel painting

Original photo courtesy: Corey Sheehan

I also added some white where the sky meets the mountain tops. I still need to smooth out. I used white to work the mist more and put between tree limbs. Sitting close, I got so frustrated. I used white charcoal to add some brush at the foot of trees on the left and worked at better defining the ridge (after rubbing it smooth again.) 

I can’t help but be discouraged, and yet, once again, the progress photo doesn’t look that bad. Yeah, there are mistakes. One of the main ones is getting the green into the mist. Also, I made the pine needles too thick using pastel without good points. How could I have used pastel pencil over the layers? The branches and needles need those thinner lines.

Is there a way to scrape off the layers where I need to put sharp, thin lines? Then use a colored pastel pencil to draw in the branches and needles? The area scraped off needs to be thin to leave the background clean, then I’d need to put in the pencil work right where I scraped off the thick pastel layers.

Ideas to work with next time.

Paint, Frustration, Stop

February 3: Forty-five minutes in the studio. Every time I’m ready to give up, something changes, and I start liking it again. I stood up the entire time which is better for working the main part of the painting (and it doesn’t make my arm sore.)

Last night, “NH Chronicle” had a woman artist, Gretchen (I didn’t catch her last name), talked about scraping off pastel or colored pencil onto sandpaper. She takes a brush and dips it in the dust, then paints on her scene. She mostly does animals. She says this technique makes for a softer pastel painting… and her paintings are beautiful.

So, after playing around with the mountains again and again taking a cotton ball to wipe off sections I’m not happy with, and reapplying pastel, I tried her technique. Hmmm. It worked somewhat. Of course, it’s not perfect because I have so many layers. This is something I’m definitely going to experiment with more.

I’m so up in the air with this. I called it quits before I started getting too upset with my progress again and worked a few minutes on pastel organization. I didn’t take a progress photo.

I took a progress photo. I also cropped the edited version, too, to compare. I’m still trying to decide if I should shorten the painting itself, removing about half an inch from the bottom. I’m getting too much green into the fog.

Lack of Belonging

Yesterday, driving home, I was thinking how I live here in Hillsborough, but I don’t feel like I belong. When I was in Bradford, I felt I belonged… but no more. It’s funny, but a part of me would like to move back to Kensington where I grew up, but I wouldn’t belong there either.

But I suppose that’s what it’s about when you’re a bit of a loner. I’m not comfortable in groups. Been there many times and it never works out well. I just don’t get on well in groups. Here again I realize it’s because I don’t adhere to others’ dictates. I don’t play the politics game. Things that aren’t fair and logical set my hackles rising and I want to “fix” things, but my way of making things right don’t fall into how others want to see changed.

The funny thing is they always ask for ideas on how to improve, but whenever I suggest anything, it’s frowned on. Guess it’s just my weirdo stuff and my refusal to jump on popular bandwagons because that’s what everyone else is doing.

It’s my mother coming out in me. She didn’t run in a herd, either. She was a more of a lone wolf, too. I’m a multicolored lone wolfe standing apart and pretty much alone. (Hence, I even put an e at the end of my last name when I changed my name.) (Sounds like there should be a poem in all this, ha-ha.)

I need to write more about this concept of belonging as that is what draws people together. People always want to feel they belong somewhere and belong to something. I hear people talk about this often. I suppose, too, it’s an anchoring point. I don’t feel anchored anywhere except in my painting and writing. Even this house, which I’ve said is my last house and that I’ll only leave when I die, is only a temporary place. I don’t belong here. I don’t know where I belong.

There’s something kind of sad about this. I don’t have my finger on it yet, though. I’m not even sure what the answer is for me. Then, too, I totally believe we are not all meant to be the same. Yes, there those who are more comfortable with a herd mentality, but there are those who prefer to be solitary. And there’s nothing wrong with that!

Reference photos – printed on regular paper vs. photo paper

Reference photo courtesy: Corey Sheehan

I’m a studio artist which means I work from photographs. I’ve taken many of the photos but as I seldom go off now, more and more I’m using, with permission, other people’s photographs. I’m a realist, but not an accurate photorealist. The photos I use are not to exactly copy the scene. They’re just a guideline to create a beautiful painting.

I print the photos on regular copy paper. I’m cheap and don’t want to waste expensive photo paper on a reference for a painting. However, the printed photo isn’t to the color and quality of the original. That’s usually OK, as the photo is only for inspiration.

See the difference between Corey's photo and the my latest work in progress.

My latest work in progress on "Snowy Ridge Trail"

I draw out the composition of the scene, usually on BFK Rives paper, using charcoal. Then, I let myself create the scene further with pastel. However, I often find when I look back on the computer at the original photo, I’ve missed points of interest. How is it I can look and look at a printed photo, spend time studying lines and shapes, and miss seeing things? Talk about duh.

This has been more glaringly so with the current painting I’m working on. The blue of the printed photo isn’t even close to the original photo. Yes, it’s OK and pretty, but it’s the original photo that first drew me in. Why shouldn’t I have a good copy to work from? Am I lessening what I do by choosing to work from a cheaper printed, less vibrant photo? It definitely causes some hardships when I look back at the original and see, what I feel then, are important aspects of the scene I missed.

So I am thinking I’ll print a 5 x 7-inch of the original photo. If I plan two paintings, I can use one 8 ½ x 11 sheet of photo paper to print the two reference photos. Any other photos can be printed on regular paper … black and white, a lighter copy to better see details, or cropped sections, etc.

I’m excited and ready to experiment with this concept.