I painted this still life in the first studio that I ever had outside my house. The room had very dim interior light and huge ceilings. The vault of air above my head was enchanting. The room was badly lit and people coming by to say hello often asked me why I was sitting in the dark. But my still life and the canvas were lit well enough. I loved the diffuse light of that quirky place.
The painting became the DNA for several pictures. Over the years I’ve made versions of the idea. They all bear some resemblance to their parent and yet each one has its own identity too.
I painted these flowers ages ago. I got them from my parent’s backyard and assembled them quickly in a plastic storage container and painted them against a blue cloth. I was emulating a style of some artists I knew who all went to the same school. It intrigues me to see it now. I like the painting, but the sensation is like seeing a picture of yourself wearing glasses from some other era. Looking at the painting now I see lots of common feeling with the way I paint flowers today and tons of difference too.
Today on Instagram I posted a painting I made ages ago. I painted a still life sketch of some daffodils — on paper — am amazed that it has survived through the years. Oil paint is strong! even on paper.
I guess I have always loved painting flowers. Since nature loves making flowers, it’s a great subject, one that’s always abundantly available. I figure that nature wants us to paint them.
I also posted these.
Doing some blast from the past posting. It’s fun seeing how paintings I made a long time ago relate to things that I’m painting now.
Come visit! @alethamkuschan