Artistic Accents

"Your style is the way you talk in paint."
~Robert Henri

I love accents...I love to listen to them and try to imitate them, usually poorly. I am fascinated by them. Why is it that we all have accents and yet we never hear them? Our ears easily discern even the hint of an accent in others, sometimes twenty years away from it's land of origin. They are fluid, they change and shift with time and the influence of circumstance. They are amorphous and yet take shape on the tips of our tongues. I have noticed that people who move to a new country pick up the local accent more quickly if they are eager to embrace their new home. Others retain their homeland linguistic nuances and they barely fade with time.

I think that we all have our own artistic accents as well. I have had friends and family remark on landscapes that I have painted, saying "now THAT'S a Lake Ontario sky"or that's an Ontario winter, etc. I suppose it is more noticeable in landscapes but even our colour palettes in still life or figurative pieces sometimes reflect our own personal milieus. Choose any contemporary or historic culture and there is invariably a consistency over the general body of art produced. So many things comprise our environments; the light, the structures, the people who dwell in these places. All of these elements, when drawn together and transcribed in art, form their own identifiable personalities, their own unique voices.

The leaves are beginning to form on the trees. Have you noticed? Well, at least they are where I am, here in Southern Ontario. It is a promising and beautiful sign, but also it makes me a bit rueful. You see, I love to paint stark, naked landscapes, trees devoid of leaves, horizons a rainbow of greys rather than lemons and limes. I love the monotone palette found from October to March. I will paint verdant vistas if I have no choice, but by nature I gravitate to simple, uncluttered and barren surroundings in my paintings. The reasons for this are just a fondness for that subdued palette...and frankly, I don't like painting all of those leaves :)

The Newfoundland trip creeps nearer. I must figure out the general plan and not try to do too much in a short period of time. I want to play it by ear to a degree and see how I feel in the tiny village where I am staying. I really enjoyed The Shipping News, so to know that Ms. Proulx wrote the book while staying in this cottage makes the stay all the more appealing. I look forward to meeting the local people and seeing if they are amenable to being painted. From the pictures that I have seen of The Rock, the stark landscapes and water-hewn cliffs look like somewhere I want to capture in my work.

I have not travelled a lot by comparison with my friends and family, but I would agree with the many who content that travel is the most effective form of education. I would be a happy woman indeed if I was able to have a great journey every couple of years and paint the people and places that I encounter along the way.

My movie tally rises slowly. I am at 62 films this year...108 left to go. Tonight I watched "Nanking", from 2007. It is a heartbreaking documentary addressing the attack on the city and the hundreds of thousands who perished and/or were affected by it.

Listening to: "Rise" by Eddie Vedder

“Travel can be one of the most rewarding forms of introspection.”
~Lawrence Durrell

Study of Jade

"Study of Jade" is the first of two paintings of Jade that I am working on. This little piece is 10"x10", oil on canvas.
A study, to me, is just that. I study the face of the subject and create an intimate portrait of the individual. I have painted myself and friends in this manner before but will have no hesitation tin approaching people in Newfoundland to pose quickly for a little study. I want to paint weather-beaten faces as well as unblemished babies' skin as well.

What never fails to amaze me is how duplicitous paint can be. When you lay down a swatch of pigment and are satisfied with its value and colour, you might return 3 days later when it has had time to dry a bit and it looks different...it looks incorrect. Whether this is due to the paint drying or simple observational error is one that I struggle with and must go and reassess the area in question and reapply the colour. I should not gripe because that is the nature of what I do...but it is vexing!

This painting took about 3 painting sessions of 5 hours each I would say. The wonderful thing about studies is that they are a way of getting to know the subject. I enjoy studying the planes of their faces and examining the nuances that typical, casual observation might miss.It's like a little window into the person and I cherish these little studies as much, if not more, than larger scale pieces.

"Art, like morality, consists of drawing the line somewhere."
~G. K. Chesterton

Bastet's Feast

"If you could invite anyone from history, dead or alive, to have over for a dinner party, who would be there?" My good friend Jim asked me this question a couple of years ago and it occurred to me recently that I never gave him an answer. I have mulled it over and culled from an exhaustive list these finalists...
Lucian Freud, Alfred Hitchcock, Ludwig Van Beethoven, William Shakespeare, Henry David Thoreau, Diane Fossey and John Steinbeck. There are seven because including myself that would be a nice round number and frankly, I'm petrified enough trying to cook for myself let alone seven amazing individuals.

Freud is on the list because his unrelenting work ethic, his ability to paint flesh like nobody's business and his frustrating stubbornness at not granting interviews. If he was at my table I could corner him and make him tell me his secrets.
Hitchcock is there because I am fascinated at the demons he tried to exorcise through film. He clearly had abandonment issues, was eccentric beyond compare and was a master with a camera. Rear Window is a perfect example of his cinematic brilliance.
Beethoven, in my opinion, wrote what his heart felt more than any other composer I have ever known. I cannot hear Missa Solemnis without getting goosebumps to this day. To have an auditory vocation and to be deaf on top of it proves that the music came from somewhere celestial.
Shakespeare. What more can be said of him? He wrote what the soul feels unlike no one else. Plus, he wasn't all pretentious and highfalutin', which he could have been. In each of his puns, soliloquies and sonnets he expressed his genius.
Thoreau, that paragon of simplicity, an unfettered life and such a keen observer, must also be included. To appreciate things just as they are, to live as lightly on the land as possible, is so admirable.
Diane Fossey spent the better part of her life devoted to helping conserve and protect the mountain gorilla. Her tenacity of purpose and unwavering efforts in the face of the utmost hardship saves her a seat at the table. To fight for those who do not have a voice to do so holds a place very near and dear to my heart.
John Steinbeck, who didn't think he deserved his Nobel Prize (pshaw), is one of the best storytellers I have ever known. To describe familial epochs so fluidly, so naturally, so sensitively, is unparalleled in my books.

So that would be my ultimate dinner party...with vegan fare of course. I know Thoreau wouldn't object to the menu but I know Freud is quite the carnivore so hopefully he wouldn't protest too much.

I was driving in my car yesterday and singing....while I was singing some ideas for paintings came to me. I wondered if perhaps the act of singing stimulates parts of the brain that govern creativity...or perhaps singing might serve as a conduit to creative ideas.

Today I took a hike through the Arboretum at the Royal Botanical Gardens. Magnolias and Eucalyptus are in bloom with the most heavenly bouquets imaginable. I was looking at the back of the blossoms and thought that most of the time we like to take pictures and concentrate on the front of the flower, the vibrant, pollen-coated side. The back of the flower is just as beautiful to look at, with the important task of holding up the pollen and most attractive parts of the plant in the hopes of pollination happening and thus ensuring survival of the species. What lies behind the blossom, underneath, is just as magical as what we gravitate towards usually on the opposite side. It is the road less traveled by.

I just finished watching The Swimmer, with Burt Lancaster. It is quite unlike any film I have seen before. Lancaster is brilliant, as a man on a voyage of self-discovery as he crosses from one side of his town to the other by way of his effete neighbours' pools. It is definitely worth a watch.

Listening to: Claire De Lune by Claude Debussy

"This above all: to thine own self be true"~Shakespeare

Palette Paintings

"Palette", "Palette 2006" and "Palette 2007".

A couple of years ago I decided to paint my palette...one a year, every year, for my entire career. I wanted to do this for a few reasons. I think that one's palette is intensely personal an unequivocally unique. It is like a little creative ecosystem with paint mingling, linseed oil spilling, and dried paint being scraped away to make room for a new layer of colour.

I also genuinely look forward to paying attention to that friend of mine, my palette...a friend who never complains and is always there for me...a friend who sees my failures and successes, never judges and always accepts. I'm a very sentimental person and I also like to think that each palette painting has been from a slightly different epoch in my creative life; each one has seen a different group of paintings result from its usage. My palette has moved with me to different homes with me as well....its peregrinations have echoed mine.

I use a glass palette, the glass usually being kindly provided by my dear friend Gayle who is a framer by trade. I line the sharp edges in grey duct tape to prevent getting cut and place white paper underneath so that I can see the colours properly. A small paint scraper for $4.00 at Canadian Tire allows me to scrape away used paint in between painting sessions. This is a practical system as it reduces the waste created by disposable paper palettes.

I look forward to seeing what my 2008 palette will look like. It's like a small smile at knowing that something special is on the horizon.

"I want a red to be sonorous, to sound like a bell. If it doesn't turn out that way, I add more reds and other colors until I get it." ~Pierre-Auguste Renoir

Gayle, Holly's Room

Gayle, Holly's Room
2008
Oil On Canvas
24"x36"


Another of the many paintings of my friend Gayle. I wanted to revisit the composition found in "Spare Room"; lots of negative space bisected by a narrow section of activity. Here Gayle rests on her daughter's bed...you can tell that the bed is too small for her. The sunlight was so beautiful that day reflecting on the walls almost as though the room was underwater. I wanted it to be serene yet provoking the viewer to wonder what Gayle's expression is...why is she lying in this bed that is clearly too small for her?

I liked how the frame of the doorway was echoed in the frame around the window...the swathe of greenery outside provided another narrative along with what was happening in the mid ground.

The blankets were tricky to render....I really do not like blending on the canvas and so more swatches of colour need to be mixed and applied to achieve the desired colour and value.

My favorite part of the painting is Gayle's hands...almost lost in the sunlight but still visible.

"The job of the artist is always to deepen the mystery."
~Francis Bacon

Epicurious by nature

“Freedom is the greatest
fruit of self-sufficiency.”
~Epicurus


Epicurus, a philosopher in Ancient Greece, believed that in order to live a fulfilling and happy life we should seek tranquility, avoid pain and overindulgence, be self-sufficient and enjoy the companionship of good friends. Not a bad group of tenets to live by really. Epicurus also believed that the physical world was composed of atoms that continuously collided with each other randomly. Quite insightful, considering this was over a thousand years before the theory of particle physics had been developed. I think he really had some great ideas and I try to implement them into my daily life as much as possible. It is a huge cliché, but the best things in life really are free. Sometimes I cannot believe that we are composed of so much space and that the spaces between the atoms are greater than the solid bits.

Things have been really on an upswing around here recently. I have completed the first of two paintings of Jade, which I will attach tomorrow when I have a decent picture of the work. I have been in contact with some great collectors and supporters of my work, some fantastic folks who I am very fortunate to have met. All of these interactions feed the soul and provide a great sense of community. There are some great projects coming up that are just under the surface. I will share them as they develop.

My friend, who is also in a creative field, and I were talking the other day about how fundamentally our vocations and what we produce are superfluous...no one really NEEDS artwork. It is a scary thought that when anarchy hits, be it in the form of a pathogen, economic collapse or any other number of scenarios, we'll be the first to go:) Oh well, at least I can draw pictures of people on the sidewalks, running by in the midst of chaos to chronicle the madness. However, until that time comes, if ever, we shall endeavor to continue producing work that is special to us, in whatever form that may be.

I was speaking with my friend John today and we were talking about Andrew Wyeth, that modern day master of art. This man is a genius. There are two books by my easel constantly. One is a book of paintings by Lucian Freud. The other is a book by Andrew Wyeth. His watercolours and tempera paintings are something almost otherworldly. I have attached a link to his official site at the top. Please have a look. You won't regret it. I love Wyeth's treatment of light and shadow...amazing compositions and a fantastic melancholy and sense of absence in his paintings that I really identify with.

Today's Pet Peeve: Modern day strollers. They are behemoths! When I was a child I had a tiny, collapsible stroller. If you folded it up you could swing it and hit a golf ball...it was compact, small and practical. Today these strollers are so large that in a pinch you could toss a tarp over one and camp safely underneath. I'm surprised you don't see a line-up of the things down at the DMV getting license plates.

Listening to: "All I Need" by Radiohead
Watching: Starting Out In The Evening. Fantastic film with a stellar performance by Frank Langhella. Rent it. If you love literature, fine writing and effortless acting, you should see this film.

I dream a lot. I do more painting when I'm not painting. It's in the subconscious.
~Andrew Wyeth.

February 2005

February 2005
2005
Oil On Canvas
48"x36"

I figured that the first post in this blog should be about one of the most important paintings I have ever done...if not the most important.

"February 2005" was created in the month of my mother suffering a major stroke. It was devastating to say the least and, despite the utmost upheaval in my family's life, I needed to continue to create paintings....to prove to myself that this is what I am meant to do with my life and not merely a hobby.

Therefore the painting is a visual representation of how I felt during that month, and subsequent months while my mother was in the hospital.

I wanted an uncomplicated composition, but one with impact. I wanted to depict a visual paradox....being claustrophobic within a spacious environment. My body language reflects an almost fetal position while the air around me, normally refreshing, feels oppressive.

Every time I look at this painting I remember that month.