Off My Nut...

Busy, busy life, and I'm off my nut.  Whatever that means.  It's simply an expression that comes to mind and seems to capture the essence of my current reality. 

I've jumped in with both feet.  I've set the wheels in motion on The Little Gull - a small (from home) art studio.   I came up with the byline:  "A small studio created with childhood in mind."  I've found two stores that will sell my paintings.  Three that will sell cards/bookmarks. I've met with an art printer, and scanned four of my favourites.  I'm planning to order art cards soon.  And bookmarks.  And prints.  And magnets.  And whatever else will make The Little Gull fly.


I have seagulls fluttering about in my belly right now, and wonder where this gumption came from. 

I will be proposing to the local Down syndrome Society that I sell the artwork with a portion of proceeds going to their music therapy program for children.  I hope they say "go ahead" - and that I can write on the back of the cards/bookmarks about the program. 

I hope they say yes, because I don't think I'd have the nerve to approach businesses if I was doing it for just me.  I also hope they don't think I am using their name to sell for myself.  I really truly just want to give back, and this is the only way I know how right now.

So.  There it is, all my nervous energy written in a blogpost.  Ahhhhh. Cathartic.

Hot off the Easel

Another yellow submarine - this time for my friend's baby.  Karen's husband is in the Navy, so it seemed right that she chose the yellow submarine.  It was fun, but the best part...

Was passing it on to this sweet little pumpkin:

I am thoroughly enjoying the painting process.  If I win a lottery I'll take painting classes and see where I can go from there.  Until then, I'll do my uneducated painting best.

Almost finished...almost

It started like this:

Then some changes:

I was liking some of the changes, but the trees...the trees were just too....hmm....elementary? 

I decided to have another go; painting sky behind branches and three rows of hills in the distance:

 

And now I`m not sure which version I like best.

James (my husband/would-be art critic) thinks there is too much sky....

It's hanging on the wall (the painting, not James) so I can live with it a little longer before I decide what to do.

Emily Carr-Inspired Paint Party

Six days ago we went to the 4Cats Arts Studio to find our inner Emily Carr. It wasn't easy, I quickly discovered. Emily's whimsical approach to landscape is misleading...whimsy does not equal simplicity. There was a large painting on the wall that I tried to replicate - in fact, several of us in our Group of Twelve tried to paint the same scene...and each painting looks different.

I think I strayed the furthest. I started with an attempt to do the big swirling sky and the simple-looking trees...but somewhere along the lines I started dabbing with the flat side of my brush and couldn't find my way back to the swirls.   

Yesterday I was tempted to paint over the whole thing and start again.  Really, I was that frustrated. Then James and I went for a drive along the ocean, and we were amazed at all the wild daffodils we saw in the parks.  "My painting needs daffodils!"  So, a few hours ago I put some in (while Aidan was in the tub - yes, I painted in the bathroom).  Then I made some hills in the distance, and changed the sky a bit with more flat dabbing (not sure what the technical name is for this) and did one more layer of darker green over the trees.  PHew.  Not sure if I'm done yet - I have to walk by it several times to see if something jumps out at me.  Already I'm bothered by the trees...they look like a kindergartener's version of a tree (not that I'm against kindergarteners...)

We'll see what tomorrow brings.  In the meantime, life's good; paint dries, and acrylics are forgiving...or so they told me at the art store :o)

pARTy Planners

My friend Chris and I are planning a paint party at the 4Cats Arts Studio. I can't wait - we're so hyped. I went to meet the curator/owner of the studio and she's lovely. I had Aidan with me, and she was very welcoming (which gave me an idea for an event for the local Down syndrome Society).

Anyhow, this paint party is for a group of moms...we need a night out! When I was at the studio I had to choose a theme - they model the paint party after a well-known artist, so some of my choices included: Vincent Van Gogh, Georgia O'Keeffe, Emily Carr, Jackson Pollock, and Norval Morrisseau.

Chris said I could choose...can you guess the artist I picked? That's right, Emily Carr. I love her whimsical paintings.

Again with the Owl and the Pussycat

I guess I get a little obsessed with things.  I've been working on two more paintings of the Owl and the Pussycat.  This time with a purpose:  baby gifts for a friend and a colleague.

First Attempt with Acrylics

This one I started first and finished last:



What I like about this painting: 

The piggy wearing a sailor suit (a happy accident - the way I initially painted it, there was a sloppy bit that looked a little like the tie on the sailor's shirt).

The islands in the background.  Originally I'd painted a lighthouse at the left, but felt it was too much, especially so close to the owl.

The pussycat is drinking tea from a china cup. 

What I did not like:

The owl - I could not decide whether he should be a snowy or a great horned owl.  I've been struggling with him the most.  I debated about a pair of spectacles, but refrained. His head was too big initially so I had to rework it.  I know the owl could  be better, but for now - I give up.

This second painting is different in that it is done on stretched canvas as opposed to canvas board.  I've only painted one miniature on stretched canvas, so this was a fairly new venture.



What I liked about this version:

The boat worked out quite well.

I didn't have to struggle with the owl.

The water has a different shade of blue that I thought worked out well.

The clouds were fun to create.

I also loved the depth of the sides allowing me to extend the scenes to the sides:

That's it for now.  I know the photographs aren't the best, but they serve a purpose anyhow, I suppose.
The boys are waking up now, have to go be a mom now. . .

He said he had a Red Canoe

I attempted to learn from a Tom Thomson painting, The Canoe (painted in the spring or fall of 1914)- only I changed the colour of the canoe from birch-bark white to red. Sacrilege, I know...but,  I did this as homage to the red canoe my husband had when we first started dating.  We went out on the Saskatchewan River on one of our first dates, and I fell in love (with James the nature boy, not the canoe).

Now, about the painting.  I have worked on the water and sky over and over again.  It's taken several "re-writes" to get it to a state I think I'm happy with.  The two tall trees in the foreground at the right, I like.  The third, smaller one, I don't.  I might just paint it out.  In the original there are more trees in front of the centre of the canoe, and I might attempt to put them in later if I'm brave enough.  As for the canoe itself, I'm really not happy with it.  The shape/perspective is wrong and that bugs me to no end.  It will have to wait though, I'm putting this aside until the time is right.

Waiting for the Paint to Dry

My friend Karen just had a baby girl, so I'm working on this piece to gift her. It's not done, but it's getting there. 

I've been thinking about the similarities between painting and writing.  The first draft, you look back on and groan...and something wills you forward with edits and rewrites until you feel in your bones that it's done.  I feel the same way with painting.  I paint a bit in the evening and am happy, and proud, and go to bed to sleep on it.  The next day I look at it with fresh eyes and see all the corrections I need to make.  For instance, last night the piggies legs were too narrow, and his skin too purplish-pink.  The tree was too dark along the left side, where I imagined the sun should be shining.  And, the cat was not yet painted, nor were the flowers outlined.  Also the stems of the bouquet the piggy is holding were out of whack completely. 

Today while Aidan napped I went back to it and now I'm happy with the pig, the tree looks better, the bouquet is fixed, and the cat is a little closer to being finished.  And the owl, I can't forget him!  At this point I'm not even sure what colour I'm going to paint him.

First Kick at the Paint Can

When I was little I used to dream of having an art studio in my house. One similar to the sunroom at my Grandmother's where the piano sat, and Grandpa's medical supplies rested in a white cupboard long after he passed away. A quiet space filled with light that inspired the imagination. That dream morphed over the years into a desire for a writing space in a small cottage, a boathouse, or even just a boat. The bottom line of that dream was to have a space of my own to create in. Last year I enjoyed a spurt of creativity where I started writing a novel that I felt was truly going places. I wrote about 14 chapters in various locations - the kitchen table, the bed, the car when Aidan was sleeping in the back, once even at the gym. It felt amazing - like I was becoming a real writer. Then summer holidays came, and the big boys were home 24/7, and I lost momentum and stopped writing. Now my creative energy has turned back to the canvas and I'm taking another kick at the paint can.




In high school I took all the art classes offered. I really wasn't as good as the others in my class, but I kept with it because it felt good, meditative almost, to go into the art room and create stuff. I watched as my friend Hethr (yes, she spells her name that way) did beautifully detailed work that I didn't have the patience for. Or Andy who did the most amazing shading, making his sketches jumped off the page. Andy's talents were so far above me that I went out and bought him a set of good pencils and left them in his locker as a gift from an anonymous donor (he was putting a portfolio together at the time to get into an art program in college). My art teacher said my work was too cutesy, and that I needed to expand into more realistic stuff. Still, she gave me an award at my Grade 13 graduation for creative arts. I didn't think I deserved it for my talent, but definitely for my appreciation of it!

During my first year at Trent University I painted t-shirts for my friends. Little cartoon-like paintings of them with speech bubbles containing their catch phrase of the month. I made cards too, and gave them away. But I never thought of doing it as a career.

At the end of that university year I sat in my friend's living room and we talked about what the heck we were going to do for summer jobs. That's when Glenn piped up and said, "you and Ally should paint t-shirts and sell them." Then Johnny (whose real name was Steve) said, "set up shop at the Peterborough Marina because there's a lot of foot traffic and your work will get noticed." Ally and I couldn't think of anything better to do with our summer, so we started planning. We applied for a Young Entrepreneur's loan through the royal bank. Found a paint supplier (Marylou, my Mom's kind and generous boss at the wool shop) who let us buy fabric paint at cost. We sketched, doodled, and dreamed, then we approached the new managers at the marina about setting up shop there. Rick and Mary were very supportive of our ideas. We pulled a picnic table to the edge of the walkway, and got to work. Rick and Mary even gave us other jobs to help supplement our income (we were slow painters). I cleaned houseboats,  public washrooms and showers, rented paddleboats, and worked a hotdog and balloon stand on Festival of Lights nights. It was a good summer in many ways. I got a great tan (I usually burn) and lost weight (from biking to and from work with Ally riding double on the back carrying a tackle box full of paints).  I talked to a lot of interesting people, both locals and tourists who were enjoying the area (and appreciating the clean showers).  And,  I almost quit school to become a crew member on a boat called The Ivanhoe (this was unknown to the handsome owner of the boat, but was a delicious little side-dream alternative to finishing my English degree).

That summer at the marina ended over twenty years ago. I went on to work at an insurance office uploading automobile policies and browsing the shelves at the local library on my lunch hours for books of poetry to engage my creative brain. Ally graduated the next year, and we never kept in touch.  I believe she moved back to Toronto, but I have no idea if she continued on with her artistic streak.  I like to think that she did.  I also hope she looks back on that summer with a little fondness for the adventure we took on.

For the past year I have been longing to experiment with Acrylics. My mother gave me $50 for Christmas, and I knew exactly what I wanted. A paint set. James, the boys and I took a trip to the art supply store that I liked, and I found a basic kit that came in a plain black box. The first thing I did was paint a little self-portrait (cartoon style), on the front:



The first picture I painted was of my Grandmother's cottage on Lake Huron.  I've tried drawing it repeatedly over the years, but can never quite capture it right.  This was my first attempt:




I realized that drawing the perspective on the cottage is very difficult...how to create depth in the center showing that there was a flagstone patio?  And trees - good God, how does one paint trees so they don't look like big green triangles? 

Second attempt:



I liked the trees, but not the cottage as much. The rock garden was still horrible, I needed to work on that.

Third attempt:



I used more black to give definition, and I liked the effect, but not on the tire tracks on the grass.  That just didn't turn out at all.  The garden itself was much better.

I've put the cottage aside now - I like different bits from each piece, and maybe one day I'll get all of those pieces to fit together.

My next project was a painting of my favourite poem, The Owl and the Pussycat:





There are many things I like about this painting - the bold colours, the outlining, the subject, the pea-green boat, the tree and the daisies.  What I don't like, and need to rework when I get the time is the fan that the cat is holding.  James says it looks like an oversized paw, and I have to agree.  I think I'll repaint it yellow to match her hat.

Then I made an attempt at a miniature....the lighthouse is one of my favourite images, so it seemed right to attempt it here:




My current project is an attempt to learn from Tom Thomson, who just so happens to be from my hometown area in Ontario.  This is how the painting is at the beginning of the process:




I'm happy with the trees along the far bank, but I'm really not happy with the sky or the canoe. Thomson's colours are so interesting, I have a difficult time trusting myself to do what he did.  In the end, I think this painting will need to be a marriage of his style and mine. I might even make the canoe red, as homage to my husband's old Clipper Canoe that brought us together in the first place (but that's a whole other story for another time).

Now, I"ve tweaked my dream of being an artist or a writer. Life shouldn't be about either/or.  I'm more than a black and white caricature, I realize that now.  I've finally decided on a dream that makes me happy.  My dream is this: to live an interesting life. That is a big umbrella to fit under, and it pretty much covers any whim I follow.  I'm hopeful that it will continue to lead me and my family towards a happy life.