I love the intersections in my studio. The corner of a still life painting abuts the flower power fabric background of the still life table, and both adjoin the little drawing of a lotus that hangs on the side of the book cabinet just because.
There are all these natural abstractions lying about. Like the parts of the unfinished paintings that wait in the queue.
There it is. The frog of the frog teapot seems always to be smiling. The teapot sits on the ledge, waiting. It’s going into the big painting too.
Sometimes the still life table becomes my three-dimensional planner. Things on the table remind me of tasks I need to do. The teapot needs to be revisited and the stripes and the compotier also — they need to become drawings — they need to be painted because they’re all going into the big painting. They will be parts of it.
And the picture of my parents reminds me of another painting that’s in the planning stage. I have a calendar, but the things are reminders too.
Paintings are backed up like automobiles at rush hour, waiting for their turn to be finished. The tall flowers in blue and green are almost complete — almost. The Moth is about half way there. Other paintings are stacked behind Moth. I got my work cut out for me.
My goal is to make my way through that stack. But I also have the Big Painting to do. Somehow it all works out. Bit by bit. I have discovered that incremental change is your friend.
These while listening to Yuja Wang playing Bartok’s 2nd piano concerto with the Orchestra of the Academy of Santa Cecilia, Rome.
- put something into each of the blue panels behind the flowers
- adjust the curvature of the imagery on the vase near the roses
- warmer red in the Sweet Williams on the left
- add indication of the chrysanthemum on far left
- pale the top of the cloth, and add elements of a bluer green (mixed warm/cool)
- start messing around with the settled cloth elements — for color, as your mood instructs
- fix that longer leaf on right (closer to the study)
- more articulation in the white what’s-their-names flowers at top
- figure out what patterns are sitting on the top of the hill
- some time or other might want to do a couple drapery drawings … just because
Giving my brain some instructions.
Now, make it so.
(As Star Trek fans will understand.)
Been focused on all these landscapes, but I got to remember to finish my big still life — the one I posted here:
Yesterday while I was at my computer busy composing blog entries, a squirrel came to the window — the window right beside my desk — and stretched himself out on the ledge for a little siesta. I dropped everything (part of my new plan to be spontaneous) and I drew two views of his face before he scampered away.
He sat barely inches from me! Nothing separating us but some dirty glass (add to the “to do” list to clean the windows). Obviously the presence of that glass provided security that he trusted though he still gave me some nervous looks.
Right there! On the ledge outside my window. I still marvel at the good fortune! If he’d had a notebook and a blue ball point pen, he could have drawn me too! He was that close. And we scruntized each other very intensely. He was so cute.
And I’m sure he thought the same thing about me too …
Looking at the still life flowers from where I sit, how will I ever get back to them, to finish their painting? I see the lights and darks differently — or I should say, they seem new to me looking at them now. This mood, the pen, sitting in a different location, having been away from them a long time. What I was thinking recently about Matisse regarding landscape one could attempt with these flowers: do versions, let yourself take greater liberties.