Monday, October 21, 2013

It's been a long time since I've updated this blog and added new paintings. That's because art took a backseat last year to other things happening in my life. The hiatus didn't last long---as I've found during recent "painting dates" with my friend Sarah, a single day of creative effort can fuel one's soul for about a month.

My walls got stripped of their old decor a few months ago. I needed to reclaim them as my own spaces and show myself something new. I had in my head that I needed to paint the hills of California, which are a constant subject of photography for me and which remind me strongly of my roots and family. (Anecdote: I lived in Ohio for four years. When our biology professor at Kenyon put up a slide showing some golden lumps with almost-black blobs, no one in my class knew that the blobs were oak trees. Except me, and I felt like I was looking at home, although I'm hardly a jackrabbit.)

On my first painting date with my buddy, I took my hand to acrylics for the first time as my sole medium. The result was this painting, which captures the evening shadows on naked grassy hills, although many people see dunes. (Makes no difference to me what you see.) I'm thrilled with this painting. And its serenity is so totally different from what I usually do.

Blue Velvet. Acrylic. 20" x 30". 

 Golden Hills. Acrylic. 20" x 30". 

The same day I did the second painting above, which I've titled simply, "Golden Hills." This is how the hills are often seen, baking under the noonday sun, the oaks almost black.

Another day, I joined together  two canvases from failed thrift-store paintings to make a long canvas for this painting. I collaged some netting from the backing of a latch-hook rug onto the painting. I'm not sure the photo colors are true---the sky appears too darkly violet in this photo.

Sun and Storm. Acrylic. 20" x  48". 

After the difficult process of gluing and taping canvases together, I decided I needed to find an alternative surface on which to paint. A big pre-stretched canvas can cost $250, and I don't have the means or time to stretch my own, or at least I haven't been interested in trying. Anyway, I went to Home Depot and bought thin veneered plywood, which I screwed onto some 1x1s and gessoed to make a large, paintable, hangable surface. The gesso makes a nice texture to work on. The cost savings is enormous, but the plywood does tend to twist a little.

I wanted to capture the moisture of evening in the Bay Area, that foggy dewy feel that makes green vegetation seem more lush even when the season has been dry. In the next painting, I loosely represent a view from Mt. Diablo over Walnut Creek. The four hills in the background are like hills I've seen near the Mendocino Mountain Range, so the piece is a fantasy juxtaposition of some real elements. I painted this in Sarah's company, too.

 View from the Mountain. 3x4'. Acrylic.


Last but not least, I completed the painting below today. (I think. It might need some more Bonnarding.) It started yesterday at Sarah's house---these painting dates are really productive!

Do you know, the foothills of the Yosemite Valley are actually mostly gray and vanilla-colored, but the ombre shadows under the dead grass sometimes have a hint of pink? I tried to capture the barren beauty, but went overboard on the pink. Then I remembered something my art teacher said once: don't worry about what it actually looks like, worry about making a good painting. (Thanks, Pat.)

On the Way to Amy's. 3x3'. Acrylic and watercolor crayon.

This painting is titled "On the Way to Amy's" because I was inspired by scenery that I saw while driving Highway 41 between Fresno and Amy's house. Very little beyond the inspiration is realistically represented. I'm really digging how the horizon fades into the sky, and how the lines draw the eye through the painting. 

I don't think I'm done with the hills of California yet. First of all, winter is coming, and those vanilla hills will turn electric green, and the ombre effect will be the near-white tufts of old grass sheltering the vivid new sprigs. That pale gray-yellow-blue sky might be sapphire, if we're lucky and get some rain. Finally, I might actually improve my skills at capturing these landscapes, and be able to make better paintings.

Thursday, October 18, 2012

Mermaid Queen

I woke up early this morning to complete this painting, "Mermaid Queen." This is a commissioned piece: my friend wanted a goddess-like mermaid with lots of flowing hair and tail, and a little ambiguity within the painting to make you come back for a second look. The mermaid is nestled in her reefy nook, caressing or examining a venomous nudibranch who shares her colors. There is a tiger shark reposing in the reef.

A lot of the gold and green in this painting is done with metallic paint, which unfortunately doesn't show up in this photo.

I struggled a lot with the lower right quarter of the painting, trying to get all those beautiful sea-life forms incorporated without making the painting too busy and distracting. I hope I succeeded. If not, you may see an updated version of the photo soon!

Mermaid Queen. 16" x 22". NFS.

Saturday, September 22, 2012

Cherry Blossom Zafu

Another zafu completed! I am encouraged by the sale of my Celtic Raven zafu. This and the Quetzalcoatl zafu are available on Etsy.



In this painting, the cherry blossoms are symbolic of the Zen proverb, "on the withered tree, a flower blooms." Joy amid suffering, birth within death, realization and sound practice with our feet in the mud and our lives in turmoil. I hope that this image will be an inspiration for your practice.

Friday, September 21, 2012

Quetzalcoatl Zafu

A golden Quetzalcoatl adorns this hand-painted meditation cushion ("zafu"). I used metallic gold acrylic paint to achieve this pattern, which was drawn free-hand with tailor's chalk from my own design. 


Quetzalcoatl Zafu. $150.

Quetzalcoatl is a god of ancient Mesoamerica; a feathered serpent associated with renewal, creation, and fertility, among other aspects of life. In the posture of eating its tail, this image of Quetzalcoatl alludes also to Ouroboros, a symbol recognized across many cultures. Ouroboros is usually a serpent or dragon consuming its own tail, symbolizing the universe, the absolute, unity, and the cycles of life. 

This zafu is 15" in diameter and about 7" tall, with a circular painted top measuring approximately 10". The fabric is black cotton, and the stuffing is cotton batting. There is a strap for easy handling. 

More zafus coming!

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

That Old Bone

My newest piece is a symbolic self portrait titled "That Old Bone." A crusty, scary femur dangles behind a woman's head, and she is resentfully aware of it. I was inspired to paint this image by my own experience with anxieties and pointless yearnings. After a while, mental narratives become rote and tiresome, like an addiction that no longer delivers a high, an old bone that one can't help chewing on every day. Eventually, we must learn to turn our backs on the bone and refuse to pick it up again. The process of leaving behind our defining narratives about ourselves is liberating but difficult.


"That Old Bone." 11x14". Watercolor and collage. $150.

Saturday, July 21, 2012

The Denouement

I've started doing some self portraits, eschewing any serious attempt at a physical likeness of myself, and instead striving to capture a gesture, mood, and activity with which I identify.  There is boundless potential for originality in self portraits, because you are guaranteed that no other artist has done a self portrait of you!

This one is called The Denouement. I was shooting for a late-night feel, the gesture is of a reader slouched over a book, tired and maybe uncomfortable sitting at a table, but rapt with angst over the fate of the characters in her book. A place I've been many times.  (Thank you to my friend A., who posed for a reference photo).


The Denouement.  11x14".  Watercolor, acrylic, and collage.  $150.