Saying yes...

It's Not Finished Yet!

This is what Grizzled says I say whenever I'm working on something. I don't like being watched when I work... Not sure why... I guess it's because I know all of the ugly spots you go through before you get to the end. I also know of all of the wonderful spots that get lost along the way... you don't want proof that those existed and someone looking at it midway might remember. I'm getting better though... a little more willing to show the process, or my process.

And yes, if this looks familiar, it should.

Update:  Trying to keep it amped up while toning down what needs to be... however, finding I just want to scrub and scumble. I'm not going to though; I'm doing this in a number of ways and am trying to keep each in their own category. Also, just posting this so I can see the difference from the morning... if there is one. While I thought the bowl would be trouble, the ice cream (something I've easily knocked out before) is being problematic. The actual "scoops" weren't pretty, but I'm trying to adjust them a tad. That little bit on the top is way too dog turdish-like... While it was in the original, it may have to go away altogether and I may have to make stereotypical scoops. The reflection from the bowl is still way over the top, but I'm not minding that... it's its own creature. And... I'm loving the stupid strawberries on the bottom right. It's silly, they're pretty much exactly as they were on the tablecloth, but they're working some kind of brain-tickle magic.

Update II: dog-turd-like chunkule on the top has been eradicated. However... IT'S STILL NOT FINISHED... even fish's take on it, is still not finished...

Now see... this is a case where I was thinking vast forward movements had been made between photo one and two, but looking at that movement on the top... apparently... if the painting were at the eye Dr and had heard, "Better #1 or #2?", it would have said, "#1".

Live and learn.

On hold

The honey bear has released its hook. I've messed with it enough that I don't feel the need to mess anymore, or at least right now. He'll sit somewhere and will thoroughly dry until I decide if I want to deal with some of the issues that still need to be dealt with, but until then, he's done... on hold... in limbo. The brown at the edge of the cloth is bothering me. It's a flat tabletop, but it's not reading like that and I'm not sure I care. I may lighten it up or may allude to it being a background. Until then...

Onward.

Waiting...

I'm at the point where I need to work on something else... anything else. It's too wet. Not being an alla prima painter, I rarely knock anything in oil out in one day. I like the versatility that layering can bring. It's also really easy for me to get muddy really fast. So... I need to wait. It needs to dry for a day. It will still be "blend-able" tomorrow, but with a gentle hand, will also stay put if I want to paint on top.

This part drives me nuts. I pace a lot... going back to the easel, seeing if maybe there is a part that is dry enough to work on and yet I know I shouldn't because of 1) the muddiness factor, and 2) I'll be too tempted to put something down that would be better off going on last. What you notice first is usually the last thing you put on... but oh, do you want to do it first. Grrrrrr.

This is the part where Grizzled comes in handy. He hears me walking into the room and yells from wherever he is, "Leave it alone!" He's probably not sure why I need to leave it alone, but also knows that if I don't, he'll have to listen to me grumbling about how I should have waited.

In my ideal world I've got a couple of large easels and room to store lots of wet paintings that are waiting for the next step.

Side-tracked by a bear

I was supposed to be working on something else... a number of other something else's, but I got distracted. One afternoon, while waiting for some water to heat up, I saw the outdoor light coming through the window and shining directly through the honey bear bottle.

I stood there and felt the hook being set in my chest. The little bear practically whispering, "Psssst! Paint me... PAINT ME!!!" I stood there a little while longer, looking at the way the light whipped through the bottle, noticing the smug little smile on the bear. It knew something I only had an inkling about, but didn't quite fully grasp yet.

I went back to work on other painting jobs, but the bear stayed with me. Late at night, the bear would pop into my mind... standing like a sentry next to a piece of toast... and then I could see the plate... and the knife. Pretty soon I saw the angle of the light and the table covering and then, I felt the butterflies.

I'd be painting the bear. The other stuff would have to wait. The bear was not taking no for an answer and neither was I.

Not all projects feel like this, but I love the ones that do. You don't really care about the end, but just want to get in the middle of the action. You're slightly buzzing when you doing it and thinking about it when you're not. You're infatuated. Every stage is satisfying. Every perfectly placed stroke is a visceral jolt. Even the poorly placed strokes aren't that bad because you don't care, you know it will work out somehow, besides, as I said, the end is not the goal, but rather, the process.

A number of years back I had a scene I wanted to paint. I could feel it. I knew the angle I wanted, the kind of light, the items and how they would be placed. I was giddy when I started that painting. I couldn't wait to keep at it, but it was summer and it was incredibly humid. The paint wasn't drying. I like to work on paintings in stages. I prefer the previous level to be just a bit tacky... still able to blend, but not entirely lifting off the surface when you use a stiff brush. This one was not obliging. I'd leave it alone, sure I could get back at it the next day, but sure enough, it was still too wet.

I waited...

And finally the day came and I was able to dive in. Working on that piece was a joy. Did it turn out perfectly? No, probably not. No, I'm sure it did not. I can see a million flaws to this day, but I don't care because even for all of the flaws, there is something more important going on.

That spark.

I tried to recreate that scene a number of years later in a smaller size. It didn't work. It looks fine, but I look at it and it is so obvious the spark is not there. My intention was not pure. I was merely hoping to recreate something that so many people liked, but I suppose I forgot the process and merely focused on the end. Mistake.

 I'm still feeling the spark with the bear and am not worried about the end. Viva la spark. Here's the spark in process. More to follow... Click on the image to see a close-up of the bear in action.

Ok.. I'm adding more commentary because TypePad is not letting me stack these images one on the other. Let's see if it works now. TypePad could use some sparks.