Before I started this blog...I kinda thought what would I (as an artist) have to say that is worth while?? After all...nobody knows who I am, I am at the very beginning of what will be a long career as an artist? And nothing I have to say currently is very practical (perhaps a little odd at times). So I went through some other people's blogs and in reading them realized that the best blogs were the honest blogs. So with this blog I think that even though right now it's "blah, blah, blah"...later on (I hope) it will depict more a history of an artist's life and even better than that just perhaps (as every artist hopes)...I will stumble upon "that special creativity that creates unforgettable art". Of course I would be fine with just creating "An unforgettable life instead". 

I had just started this one...when a couple came up to me and said "Looks like it will be a good one when it's done". How did they know that" I only had a smidge of green paint and a little of the blue....but somehow they knew it would be okay? Of Course once they passed on I hurried the painting up just incase they came back and it was a disaster. 

Heaven. Total Heaven. I have discovered a winery in Picton that allows us (artists) to paint and drink homemade wine. Although many will disagree with this practice--I must admit your brush strokes flow easyier when you have had a really good glass of homemade white in your veins.

Yesterday I drove all around town...in circles. Round and round and round. Walked for miles through forrests, wooded paths, along waterfronts, even inbetween buildings looking for something that might give me a "painter's itch". Nothing. The only itch I had was from whatever bite me on my leg. Sometimes when that happens within the first few minuets I give up and go and do something else. However the pervious day that I planned to go out and paint--ended up raining. Therefore my desire to paint had grown over night thus my random search for somewhere to paint, something??
I finally settled for a spot along the waterfront..that was shaded, quiet, and would let me do something with my "melting oils" (I keep them in the freezer so they last longer). A colour study that was about it----I spent more time playing with the colours on my palette than actually trying to finish something. 

I have painted in some of the worst conditions ever--bad weather, loud traffic, bad location (I have had to climb down cliffs to retrieve an wounded easel or two). I have even landscaped painted in Central Park (New York City), New Mexico (Surrounded by drunken mexicans) and outside pubs in London (where young pissed brits grab their crotches shouting "..............."). As annoying as all that is/was.......I have often wondered the "magic" of the easel. In situations where I am not set up painting I have had a lot more trouble than that. Trouble that most of us have had at some time in your life. 

On my drive home from "The Group of Seven"...I decided that I would try some smaller paneled paintings. Take the pressure off. I work at a framing shop and sometimes I get lucky and one of the customers will allow me to "throw away/keep" one of their old stretcher frames after we re-stretch their artwork piece ready to be framed by us. Last week I got my hands on a fair size stretcher frame that was on it's way into the trash. From it I was able (using the saw) to create 2 8" x 8" canvas frames. Thus, these little beauties were born. The shape was kinda perfect while outside...it allowed me to put in enough info into the image and yet leave out the ever annoying phone line that usually drapes itself across your painting spot.
"The tree" was done in the midst of light rain...I knew it was going to rain before I went outside--but I just had to paint...I couldn't take it anymore. (I had worked a full week and was really glad to finally have the day off). So, knowing very well that it was total madness to go out and paint in the rain..I trudged through and kept my head down to the random stares. I figure it's rain, water...it will dry.....I NEEDED to paint. 

I started this one mid-day. The best light seems to be roughly around 5 ending at 7 depending on what month you are in. As I lost the light the trees darkened to a deep blue mauve like appearance. I didn't really want that...so I painted quickly. It's funny just when you think you have lost the light--it appears---graceful. The light usually touches on a leaf or branch....just giving your image that lovely pop of colour. I adore those surprises of light...they are what keep me coming back to outdoor landscape painting. 

I know this married man...he's older...older than me. He has a great wife, great kids, great house, money, great family, and the list goes on. Why am I thinking of him right now? He's unhappy. I have never met a man that has offered me what I really want.....to paint. The only thing I know for sure that I really want is to paint. I have been wondering in all the chaos of being an artist where am I going? (As I am sure most artists come to this cross roads). Right now...in the life I am in....I am going towards the life that he has...the great family, great kids, great house, money and so on...but I would be unhappy. Why? The art. It lingers. For I know (like Georgia O'keefe) that the only way my (and different for other artists) creativity will shine through is through some sort of peace in life-perhaps living in a small cottage somewhere out in B.C. or renting an R.V. and driving across Europe? Sort of giving up what I should want "to be happy"...perhaps would then lead one to be being happy. I think of this man before I go to bed....does he kiss his wife every night, go to work, play with his children, and live his life with contentment..knowing that he has given up happy. Could I do that? Or maybe the answer is that I will have to wait longer to find a love that will allow me to paint--and wont require one to "settle down"?

On Monday I took a trip to see the McMichael Gallery. I have heard many times of it's fantastic Canadian Art Collection especially "The Group of Seven".

While wondering through the numerous images of Very Canadian Landscapes--I realized that The Group of Seven during their painting practices were chasing after colour and not light. What a fantastic idea! To eliminate light and unveil the colour in one's painting practice.

Emily Carr----oh...how I love her.....perhaps for her artwork..but actually more for her courage and bravery. She DID disappear into the woods. Through my travels all over Europe---there was always somewhere that I stumbled upon her. I used to work in a pub in St.Ives, Cornwall (England) where she would have sat and drank beer among other students studying drawing too. I used to spend some time researching her in The St.Ives Archives and found that while she was studying art in the very small town--her love of the woods was born there--frequently Emily's instructor was pulling her out of the woods and demanding that she draw the boats--like everyone else. I am soo proud of her for sticking to her guns.  Anyways...while at The McMichael Gallery I ran into a few early of her images---it seems to me that her art (like her life) was such a struggle and that for the majority of us who know her work (the later stuff) we have only just chipped away at her self education as an artist. I think she only just found her artistic voice when she was in her 70's. As if something just clicked and away she went like a rocket.

I have kinda been wondering "What's it all about?" lately. Frequently I find myself looking at art--Art on school website's like The Art Student's League (New York), The Florence Academy of Art (Italy), abstract stuff in Cornwall U.K. and of course all The Nationals (Galleries). A few well known artist galleries like The Forum in New York. It's seems kinda odd to me..like here are all these people rushing about creating images--images for what?? As an artist I know how important an image can be. A good example of this was when an elderly man came up to me in  The National Gallery of London and after looking at a Vincent Van Gogh said to me "That he was feeling kinda down...but now feels much better". (I have one of those faces that makes random people come up to me and tell me stuff--). I understand that---I remember looking at an abstract painting called "Strings of Attachment" painted by a Uk artist maybe 5 years ago and I found myself entranced by it--almost as if I couldn't leave it. But as a person--I am kinda wondering what's it all about? Cause unlike any other activity--from a practical stand point of view we don't gain anything from being better, or creating a fantastic painting. Our lives may change somewhat like opportunities to teach, or show more, sell.......but I have met some pretty bad ass artists that still survive off of canned beans and toast. In more silly of moments I think that maybe I will know that I have arrived when I suddenly explode---and massive amounts of confetti will fall around. That that one last brush stroke of perfection will completely override my system and will cause a total melt down. However, the older I get I think my chance of that happening are close to nil. Aug. 8th, 2010

Due to having a lot of things on my mind, I have been dis-appearing into the woods to do my painting/thinking. I  have realized recently that I could spend forever discovering greens and that I am at the very beginning in my scale of greens (should you use the 1-9 scale of values and apply it to your greens--it would be a lifetime of mixing and re-mixing). 2 days ago I mixed a cad orange with a vermillion green and discovered that it toned down the new green mixture--of course this makes sense (opposites calm down the mixture).....but since my forte is not in landscape painting I had forgotten. That one mixture opened my eyes immensely to the possibilities. I think in theory I could just sit in the woods and mix paint--perhaps on my next painting session--I will spend 5-10 minutes just mixing up many greens. Again, brush strokes are soooo important!! They make or break the image---slowly I am stepping away from my usual application of the brush and introducing other types of brushes mid-way through the work--but this takes time--. Getting to know one's own technique...getting to know ones self.
(Weather--it has been way too hot to do much painting--I wonder if perhaps that is why Monet did so many images by the beach--a swim afterwards, or perhaps painting in one's undies while enjoying the sand?). Aug 4th, 2010