Tough Choices - A is for Apple, a new painting challenge

'Tough Choices' 

6 x 6 oil on masonite

Not For Sale

For a while now I've wanted to do a series of paintings based on the alphabet and I thought that now would be a great time to do that since I've kind of felt like I needed a new creative challenge. And can I just say how EXCITED I am about this? I love thinking up new subjects or themes based on a letter. 

Last night I laid out all my photos (yes all of them, because I'm awesome and old school like that) and sorted them into piles of paintings I'd like to do based on letters. This is going to be a fun project. I'm excited. Wait. . . I already said that. 

Anyway, here is the first painting in my alphabet series, A is for Apple. This is a painting of my youngest son when he was about two. He simply could not decide on which apple to eat, so he compromised by taking a bite out of all three of them and then leaving them there with little mice sized bites taken out of each one, thus interrupting my still life set up. The cute little stinker. 

To Catch A Heffalump

To Catch A Heffalump

10" x 14" watercolor

#4 in my Still Life Interruptus series

What is a Heffalump you ask?

 A Heffalump is a cute and cuddly elephant type creature that is often purple, pink, or blue and lives in the 100 acre wood, where it is mistakenly believed to generally wreck all kinds of havoc. But this could not be further from the truth!

Heffalumps are shy and gentle creatures who love to laugh and eat Rumpledoodles (Heffalump cookies).

They are not to be confused with Woozles, which are very sneaky, or Wockets, that are often kept in pockets.

Although this happy beast generally gets the blame for stealing Winnie The Pooh's honey it really is not guilty of such a crime.

Because you see, Heffalumps are not all that fond of honey at all.

In fact, if one were to try and capture a Heffalump, one might want to use orange slices.

There's a rumor going around that a certain purple Heffalump has a weakness for juicy orange slices. . .

And I may or may not have been witness to such a thing. :)

Still Life Interruptus #3, Just A Peek

Just A Peek

#3 in the Still Life Interruptus series

8" x 10" acrylic on masonite

Last week the Daily Paintworks challenge was to paint a gift. So of course, the first thing I thought of was a set up of my son and a big ol' wrapped present he could wreck mischief and mayhem with. This is how it went down, step by step:

1. I went to the store, bought some shiny pink wrapping paper, a ginormous curly-ribbon bow, and a small box of treats for my son's modeling fee. 

2. Came home, wrapped up a box (which happened to be one of his older games that he hasn't played with in a few months, and I wrapped the treats too, because it would just be mean to have him open up a big box of nothing right?) and set the shiny present in the perfect spot of sunshine.

I did all of this without my little model underfoot, thinking he would be more excited and interested if he didn't know what I was doing. . .

3. I bring my son upstairs and show him, very nonchalantly of course, the shiny little present on the floor and stand back, camera at the ready for what I'm sure is going to be the biggest bunch of cuteness I've seen in weeks.

4. He stands there, prods the present a little bit, then walks away and comes to ask me if he can go back downstairs to play with his brothers.

5. My jaw drops. I'm flabbergasted. For real. Wasn't expecting that lack of interest. Hmmm. . .Change of plans.

6. I bring out the much smaller box of wrapped treats I got for him and let him open it. A-ha!! Now he's interested. He heads for the other present and in about fifteen seconds has it completely unwrapped.

Pretty pink paper lies shredded all over the floor.

But somehow the curly-ribboned bow managed to survive.

And there's now a smudge of chocolate on my son's face as he brings me the newly-unwrapped-old game and asks me to play with him. 

So I do, of course. :)

He beats me, 2-1.    

A little later, when I'm holding my boy on my lap, I wonder if John Singer Sargent had this much trouble with his models? I kinda doubt it. But, I bet he didn't have as much fun either. :)

Still Life Interruptus

Still Life Interruptus

10" x 14" watercolor on Arches 140 lb. cold pressed paper

The second painting in the 'Still Life Interruptus' series

A couple of weeks ago I thought it would be fun to try and paint some vegetables. By themself. In a still life. My son (the two year old above), however, had other ideas.

I had them all set up on the table right in the perfect spot of sunshine. Then my other son, who was getting ready to go to kindergarten and couldn't find his backpack, called for me. So, I left those poor defenseless tomatoes all alone on the table and went to track down a Spiderman backpack.

Now I guess I miscalculated the appeal of tomatoes left unattended because when I came back I found them with little bites taken out of them, one still in the culprit's hands, with tomato juice dripping down his chin.

I stood there with my hands on my hips, surveying the carnage and trying not to laugh when he looked up at me and said, "Not an apple."

Then went back to eating the tomato.

Final score: The two year old still life interruptus, fruit and vegetable snacker-2 

Mom-0

I don't think I'm meant to be a still life artist. But I can't complain, this painting was a lot more fun and interesting than what I had planned. :)

June 8 edit: I love the spontaneous feel of this painting so I'm going to have a new series of paintings called, yup, you guessed it, 'Still Life Interruptus' of which this painting is the second. Here is the post for the first painting 'Please?'

A note about the painting process for 'Still Life Interruptus': When Alvaro Castagnet came to the Utah Watercolor Society demo last month he said something that really stuck with me. He talked about how watercolorists have one chance to gain the attention of the big galleries. One chance against the 'king' of media, oils. Paint with passion, be bold, take risks, strive for mood, ambience, grit. The unexpected.

I pushed myself further with this painting than I usually do, although I don't think it was intentional. I wasn't thinking of Alvaro's words at the time I painted it, but remembered them when I was finished.

This painting came from my own intuition, rather than a set of rules to follow, or any acedemic knowledge of 'how one should paint'.  

I exaggerated colors and lighting. Pushing them further with each glaze. A couple of times I set the painting across the room, stepped back and looked at it, and felt sure that I ruined it. Then decided to try one more thing, which worked (Huzzah!), and made it into the painting I'd been envisioning the whole time.

Sometimes we need to just go with our gut. Trust our intuition. Paint what we feel, with passion and boldness. Rules be danged. :)

Please?

Please?

15 x 20 watercolor

Finished! And I am really pretty happy with it. I had to change some things at the last minute that I thought would work, but really just weren't. Which then basically took the whole concept of the painting and threw it out the window. That concept being, my little boy getting caught eating my still life.

But I like the new idea here too, that he's pouting because I won't let him eat one of those apples yet.  

Ah well, such is life as an artist. Must be able to adapt to change.

But before I changed it, I showed the painting to my husband, who I can always depend on for a loving, honest opinion, and asked what he thought of one apple that I had painted with a bite taken out of it. This is how it went:

Me: "So. . . what do you think? What does it look like?" *points to the apple with what's supposed to look like a bite, but really looks like some sort of apple leprosy*

Him: *Silence*

Me: *Nervous twisting of hands*

Him: *looks at wife with a loving smile while internally debating the pros and cons of being honest with said wife*

Me: *wipes sweat off forehead*  *chews fingernails down to stubs* 

Him: *smiles gently and wraps arms around wife*  "I know what it's supposed to look like."

Me: *sigh* "Yeah, you're right. It sucks." *pulls out the scrubber and erases the offending bite/leprosy mark*

Him: *looks at wife warily, wondering just how far he put his foot in his mouth*

Me: *looks at husband and thanks God that he's hers*  "Love you."

Him: *BIG sigh of relief* "You too."

We artists and creative types need cheerleaders, we need the people we love to tell us that we're amazing, talented, and perfect in every way (what? You mean that's just me that needs that? Hmph.), but we also need to have someone who can tell us what isn't quite working.

I knew that bite mark wasn't working, but I was trying to hold onto it because of my Grand Artistic Idea, thus sacrificing the strength of the painting. So, I'm very glad my husband was there, in love and kindness, to tell me that it sort of, kind of, okay, really wasn't working. Gosh, I love that man. 

So, what about you? Do you have someone you can ask who will be honest with you in a way that won't crush your sensitive artist's soul? And when's the last time you told them how grateful you were for them?