Je Dessine: Paris Couple

Last week Sabrina had a photo for me to work from -- a couple of friends of hers at a sidewalk Paris cafe. She asked me to make some quick warmup drawings -- making sure that I filled in every single piece of the paper. I got more and more irritated as I went along frustrated with my lack of detail and eye. Finally I was fuming and whining about the boring couple, table, and chairs. So Sabrina told me to start over. Draw whatever I wanted and add color to every single inch. I started slashing and scribbling using Portfolio water-soluble oil pastels, water and napkins, and even spit. The end result I kind of liked. It's just so unreasonable. I can sort of get into this kind of what-the-hell painting style. I can see that my irritation and anger cut something loose in me! I plan on attempting to transfer this or something similar to a canvas. (I sent a phone pic to my brother -- he asked if that was Munro and I in Paris? Yeah, I'd say maybe a bit!

Je Dessine: Big Fat Flower Pot

Painted maybe a month ago. One of those times I wish I painted more often so I'd have more of a "vocabulary" of images to draw from as I create a background. However when I look at this painting what I do like is that it seems to have some "gusto" -- a brashness -- that shows up in its color and size. I'm reserving this one to paint over next time I see Sabrina

"Je Dessine" (I Draw) Show-and-Tell Mondays

 Painting 2011 Still Life with Clay Horses 

I didn't draw this past week. Taxes, an out-of-the-blue necklace commission, catching up with journal pages, and an impending trip to Europe was taking all of my energy. However, today (which is actually Tuesday), I had my art lesson with Sabrina. I was late and Sabrina was lying on her bed with her headphones on, waiting for me. I had to yell to get her attention. "I almost gave up on you" she said. I started to say I thought we had changed the time, and then I thought -- don't argue with the teacher -- and sat myself down and grabbed a sharpie. "Arrange this still life I started to create" Sabrina said. So I got up, rearranged the bright red tulips, the patterned scarf, and added a few pottery horses to the arrangement, and sat down again. "Now look through this viewfinder and paint in the colors that you see in the corners. Don't draw -- just paint in the corners with the colors you see."

 

How Do I Make Orange? Palette

Fumbling around I felt totally out of my element. I have never really "painted". Don't draw what I see first? I.was not happy. I was just putting down blotches of acrylic paint. It looked gross. I felt out of control. I grumbled. Sabrina said, "Now paint the center with color -- then fill in all of the white areas." "Keep adding color." I finally filled in all of the paper, and then said "Now what?" "Take a pen or pencil and add in what you see." My alarm meter went haywire...but I did as I was told.

With Patsy Cline playing in the background. ("I've got your photo, she's got you..."), at some point I stopped being concerned with what was actually in front of me and got into whatever was inside of me. This is hard to describe. Like the flowers don't really have to be tulips. Or the scarf's flowers are becoming part of the bouquet. But at one point she looked at what I was doing and said "Now you're painting." And I could feel that the she was right. When I finally finished and looked at what I had done, I started crying. It didn't look like what was in front of me, yet it did. It wasn't perfect, yet it was. And I was extremely grateful that I had been encouraged, and that I had been courageous enough to go to a place that was unknown. Something of who I am combined with what I saw, and ended up colorfully on paper. "This is the seed of a painting," said Sabrina. How amazing!

"Je Dessine" (I Draw) Show-and-Tell Mondays

Babushka in Holland

Seems like there is never enough time. Maybe it's because I daydream a lot or surf the internet too much or straighten up the house, or studio, or office too many times too often, or run too many errands, or have too many doctor's appointments. Sometimes, like right now, I just want to go live in Airstream. I'll just drive to some secluded somewhere: to some beach; some grove of redwoods; some mountain stream; some heap of desert pictograph-encrusted red rocks. I'll draw or collage or paint or sing or drink my instant coffee or hot chocolate or sing to no one or try to play the mandolin or stroke my cat or dog and just be. Well, it's a nice dream. I think if I wanted to do it I would. So I look at how I don't, and keep on movin' right in the moment, this place in time -- knowing that here is the perfect place for me to be.

The above odd joy of a little painting I did in my art lesson last week. My teacher said do a continuous line drawing of the model AND DON'T LOOK AT YOUR PAPER. Oh I don't like that. Talk about discomfort, Alice in disturbia kind of out of control. And just look at what happened: the black robed, small, petite blond model ending up as a Russian babushka! How did this happen? I don't know. But once I added the daffodils in front of her I thought, well OK. I made my teacher laugh. I liked that. Worked in sharpies, acrylic paints, and some aquacolor crayons.

 Drawing Zeus & House on the Pages of Trust the Process by Shaun McNiff

The rest of my drawings this week were done hastily at night while reading Trust the Process, An Artist's Guide to Letting Go by Shaun McNiff. A terrific book on the creative process that currently holds my attention like no other book on the subject. And since my cats seem to be consistently on the bed at night,  they consistently serve as my models. But the little, grade-school style house was a response to what Shaun was saying in the chapter "Unpredictable Magic":

"When a child makes a picture of a house, freely yielding to the impulses of expression...do we view these images of life as mistaken? More likely we enjoy the picture of the house within the context of the  fresh and delightfully expressive world of childhood. Imagine having the same appreciation for your own creations."

 Drawing: Zeus Squinty-Eyed