painting & observations of our world by Sheryl Stalnaker
The Artistic Eye: paintings & observations of our world
observe - v. to take notice
create - v. to produce through imaginative skill
Put on your “artistic eye glasses” and enjoy my daily musings and paintings. It is my hope that you will enhance your abilities to notice and understand the world around you. Get your creative side cranking!!
Posted on 11/8/2013 10:08:33 AM
By Sheryl Stalnaker
3 Comments
"Oh no. I should have quit while I was ahead," I thought to myself. I was working on a painting of a young woman during a weekly painting session with a live model. It was near the end of our session and I had about 10 minutes left. I felt like I had captured the essence of the model fairly well, just a painting exercise and not going for a finished work, when I decided that since I had time, I might as well work on her eyes a little more. Oops. The painting of this lovely young woman suddenly took on a zombie-esque appearance. Instead of exiting gracefully, I messed it up. I see the same thing happen to my art students. A child will have a fresh, colorful, expressive painting and decide in the last five minutes of class to outline everything in black. Since they don't have refined motor skills yet, they quickly obliterate their colorful paintings. Oops. Adult students will paint over beautiful sections of their work, creating muddied colors and covering up their once confident and bold brushwork. Oops. We all admire a graceful exit, whether it is the ability to move from conversation to conversation at a party, to politely exit a long-winded discussion, to gracefully leave a job, or even change relationships. We can all think of times we haven't exited gracefully. I took up surfing a couple of months ago. Yes, really. During my first lesson, our instructor talked about popping up on the board, reading waves, water safety, and spent a little time mentioning how to exit the board after (hopefully) standing up. Several skinned knees, bruised hips, and strained fingers later, I have learned that getting up on the board is half the story. Exiting gracefully is the other half. Whether it is surfing, painting, or socializing, the masters of their craft have learned the art of the graceful exit. When painting, master artists often leave the mystery of passages left undone, fresh colors, or design that isn't overworked. Check out this portrait by David Leffel for an example of a graceful exit.
Summer Sky by Sheryl Stalnaker - for more info. about this painting, click here
Posted on 10/6/2013 8:04:19 PM
By Sheryl Stalnaker
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Usually when artists who market their work are creating, the question of destination arises sometime during the process. Where will this work of art go? Paintings might end up in a gallery that represents the artist, an art show, or even a "reject" pile if the painting doesn't make the cut. Some paintings become homebodies, hanging around the artist's house or studio, not yet committed to an ultimate destination. I know my paintings have experienced all of these fates. When artists are preparing for a show or have a deadline, there is little time to experiment or lose time by creating a piece that should go in the "reject" pile. We've been programmed throughout a lot of our lives to work with a destination in mind, other than just focusing on the process and learning. We practice a sport, hoping to win a game. We study to get good grades and work hard to move up in our careers, but we all need time to learn, grow, and enjoy what we are doing. I've always tried to adopt the mindset of creating for the love of creating, without a purpose, even when there ultimately might be one, but it is difficult when I get busy and have to deliver inventory to galleries or a show, or to fulfill commission commitments. I recently joined a weekly drawing and painting group, where we split the cost of a model and create for several hours without interruption. I've decided to take this time to explore and practice, meandering without a destination, ultimately wiping away my creation, even if I think I have a good one, to reuse the canvas on another day of artistic experimentation. William Shakespeare said, "Things won are done, joy's soul lies in the doing."
Enjoying practicing (three photos):
The start:
About 1 1/2 hours into the painting:
About 2 hours into the painting - the wipeout!!
Posted on 5/14/2013 8:49:38 PM
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Sometimes enthusiasm can steal the show, even trumping hard work and lots of talent. I recently attended our daughter's school district orchestra performance. There were three levels of groups performing and the beginners' group was... well, beginning. There were many out of tune notes and off beat rhythms, but they played with enthusiasm. The best part was how the conductor conducted. The students were on a large stage with professional stage lighting, dressed in formal black and white. The conductor, in his black suit, waved his baton very seriously and energetically, like he was conducting the New York Philharmonic, not once wincing at the off-pitch playing. He was obviously enthusiastic about music, the hard work of his beginner students, and their potential. It reminded me of a children's church choir performance where the youngest group, with their angelic faces, sing the loudest and most enthusiastically, always stealing the show. Don't you like to be around enthusiastic people? I've met many artists who are positive and enthusiastic about what they do and pass this along to others when talking about their work. Years ago I was outside painting in downtown Charleston with an artist friend. A gentleman pulled up beside us and started asking us questions about our paintings. He said he was an artist too and asked eagerly if we wanted to see his work. To our surprise, he opened the trunk of his car where he had piles of his original paintings. He had more heart than skill, with work in the folk art genre. He was bubbling over with energy and loved talking "shop" with us. I just bet he sells a lot of those paintings out of his trunk. His enthusiasm was contagious. What are you enthusiastic about? How do we become more enthusiastic or even share the enthusiasm that we might be holding inside? I love this quote by General Douglas MacArthur, "Years may wrinkle the sun, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul." And another by Ralph Waldo Emerson, "Enthusiasm is the mother of effort, and without it nothing great was ever accomplished." For some tips on how to get more enthusiasm in your life, click here.
Lowcountry Vista by Sheryl Stalnaker
for more info. about this painting, click here
Posted on 4/18/2013 10:09:55 AM
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Lake City, SC, is a small rural town about 100 miles from Charleston. The town, with a population of 6,500, is not along a major interstate, doesn't have thriving industries, and most people in Charleston don't even know where it is. Lake City is about to become the center of a great economic and cultural experiment. They will be hosting the "First of Its Kind, Epic Southern Artfest Competition and Celebration", to quote the event organizers. The official name is "Artfields." Artfields is the brainchild of Darla Moore, a Lake City native who was named one of Fortune Magazine's Top 50 Most Powerful Women in American Business. Moore has a vision to revitalize her home town and Artfields is already a standout in many ways. Four hundred artists from across the Southeast were selected to exhibit in the show that runs from April 19th to April 28th. Three artists will share winnings of $100,000 from jurors' selection and public vote. This amount of prize money is unheard of in most art competitions, which usually have a top prize of $500 or maybe $1000. There will be food trucks, art lectures from artists such as Jonathan Green, art classes and demonstrations, public murals created by attendees, bands from as far away as New Orleans, special dinners and other events. The art is diverse, from traditional landscapes and figure paintings to large abstract and museum-style installations. I delivered my painting this past Friday and got a sneak peak. There was a lot of energy in the town already, as carpenters hammered to finish new restaurants, workers laid sod in public spaces, and shop owners cleaned windows. The entire town is the exhibition space, with local venues displaying the artwork including a t-shirt shop, bridal boutique, corner barber, old empty warehouses and restaurants. The local venues selected the works that would be displayed in their shops, directly involving them in the event. I met one of the employees, Trilley, at Beach Cruisers, where my painting will hang. His enthusiasm was contagious. He claimed that all the prize money was going to "his" artists, he was going to sell all the paintings, and 30,000 people would be coming to Lake City. I hope this experiment is a huge success and that it becomes an annual event as planned - for all the residents of Lake City, like Trilley, who have embraced the artists and our work, and for the visionaries who have taken a huge leap of faith. The event starts this Friday. Stay tuned...
for more info. about Artfields, click here
along Main Street in Lake City, SC
my Artfields painting, Expanse, oil on canvas, 38" x 62"
Posted on 4/8/2013 10:41:18 AM
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"Art museums are boring." This was a statement from our son during our trip to Washington, D.C., this past week as we discussed the potential activities of the day, and I put in my request to see the Corcoran Gallery of Art. Many passive activities can fail to hold our interest, especially if we don't know much about what we are viewing. A couple of years ago, we were at the Art Institute of Chicago. Our daughter had recently completed an art class where she learned about master painters and completed her own works imitating their styles. She loved seeing these famous paintings in person at the museum and she could even identify some works by artist just by viewing their painting style and subject matter. She knew the backstory. Washington, D.C., is full of museums and history and can be an overload of information, especially for kids, but I found they most enjoyed seeing things they had learned about. Our son had recently completed a research paper about Frederick Douglass. At the Ford Theater, where President Lincoln was assassinated, he attentively watched a somewhat dry film about the relationship between Douglass and Lincoln. He had the backstory. Our daughter wanted to pose for a photo by a statue of Sojourner Truth, an abolitionist and advocate for women's rights, whom she had studied. I got excited when I saw a bronze statue of Reagan in the capitol, completed by an artist I know. In each instance, we knew the backstory. I have found that people often like to hear the backstories of my own paintings. Where is the scene? What led to painting that particular painting? Even information about materials and techniques can interest some. Take time to find out the story behind what you are viewing. Talk to artists and gallery owners. Take a museum tour. Ask questions. Read a little. Tell children an interesting or unusual fact about what they are about to view. It all makes life just a little more fascinating.
knowing the backstory - bronze sculpture of Sojourner Truth in the U.S. Capitol building
Posted on 3/21/2013 7:04:16 PM
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We've all heard the expression, "coming to our senses", which means to start being more mindful by taking in and processing information. We are born with differing athletic abilities, academic talents, and other strengths and weaknesses, but we don't give our senses much thought. Are we born with senses that are more or less refined? Can we develop our senses? When I'm out walking our dog, her nose is always to the ground or in the air. Can you imagine having such a refined sense of smell that you could sniff out a person in a pile of rubble, as rescue dogs do? I think some of my senses are more developed than others. I've attended a number of wine tastings and can get the big picture. "OK, well it's definitely wine not beer, and red. Kind of heavy, maybe a cabernet. Oh, so you are telling me there are black currants and cherry with a hint of black pepper... Now I can definitely taste all of that." Then there are those who can easily identify the grape, the region where grown, and every nuance of flavor, partly due to training and experience, partly due to being born with a refined sense of taste and smell. I often wonder if people see colors differently. I know some have difficulty identifying the elements of a nuanced color. My husband says he was born withan 8-pack of crayons and I was was born with the pack of hundreds of colors, you know, the one with the built-in sharpener. I can look at an unusual color and easily break it down to its elements. A green might be made up of yellow, cerulean blue, a little white and a touch of alizarin crimson. But do I actually see more or is it practice and training? Like the wine connoisseur, probably some of both. I love that Beethoven continued to compose music when his sense of hearing was greating impaired. Researchers believe his composition for string quartet, Opus 127, along with his other later compositions, were written when he was completely deaf. He relied on his memory of what notes sounded like. Amazing. Check out Beethoven's Opus 127 here. One of the great joys of painting a landscape is gathering reference material, either by completing sketches and paintings on location or by taking photos. I went out to photograph the landscape with another artist friend last week at Hampton Plantation State Historic Site, a beautiful area with old rice fields, creeks, majestic oaks, and an 18th century plantation home. All of our senses were engaged - the smell of the creek and grasses at early morning, birds chirping, leaves and twigs breaking under our feet, the sun peaking through low clouds. Wonderful. How can we all use our senses more fully or develop them further? Perhaps we need to look more, listen intently, savor a taste or touch -all allowing us to experience life more fully.
coming to my senses at Hampton Plantation State Historic Site
Posted on 3/12/2013 7:09:43 PM
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I don't remember exactly when I started calling myself an artist. I do remember my first art sale to a person I didn't know. I was displaying paintings at the Manor Theater in Charlotte in an exhibit space coordinated by the Charlotte Art League. I sold several paintings during the exhibit to strangers I didn't know. A good friend and already established artist said to me, "You know, you can call yourself an artist now." Well, not quite yet. It took awhile. "Artist" is a weighty word. Even making the leap from "art student" to "artist" can be daunting. What defines us? We've all had to make the statement beginning with, "I'm a _______." Parent? Employee? Owner? Spouse? Christian? Jew? Republican? Democrat? And on... What if you are the survivor of a serious illness or tragedy? What if you have a disability? How does that impact your definition of yourself? Sometimes others label us, while we have to define ourselves. I was at a children's hospital in Dallas last week that specializes in treating children with orthopedic differences, from the mild to the extreme. I saw children with spina bifida, missing limbs, and unusual looking hands. The public might label these kids as unfortunate, sad, or in the worst case, freaks. These kids define themselves as students, friends, athletes, and just regular kids. Do we let unimportant things define us - the wrinkles or lack of wrinkles on our foreheads, the fancy cars or not so fancy cars we drive? Maybe we can define ourselves more deeply, earning these distinctions - motivators, encouragers, teachers, friends, creators, hard workers, supporters, and children of God. When I started calling myself an artist, I had to earn it first, but it was life-changing.
my first painting sold (around 1996), watercolor on paper
Posted on 2/21/2013 1:46:10 PM
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E-mails, conference calls, Facebook, text messages, voicemail, video chats - we are all so connected, right? Maybe not. It often seems difficult to find time, or even make time to get together with our peers. Those well-intentioned comments, "We need to have lunch soon" or "Let's get together" never make it to face-to-face time. I spent the last weekend with fellow artists at a group art show. Some of them I've known for years, others I met for the first time. All of us as artists, had been spending a lot of time working alone. It is the only way to get ready for an art show. At the three day show, we shared ideas about websites, marketing, gallery representation and painting techniques. We talked about artists and paintings we admire. We shared personal stories and laughed a lot. We talked about food, what we had eaten and what we planned to eat. (Why does that topic always come up at art shows? The long days, perhaps?) We all left energized and ready to get back to our studios and paint, not energized by arts sales, but from our shared passion and understanding. I remember the tremendous support I got when I was in a "Mothers of Multiples" group when our twins were toddlers. We got together for group playdates and while simultaneously ignoring or responding to crying (mother's choice), changing diapers and keeping little ones from immediate peril, we shared stories and built friendships. It got us all through the next week. I know many of you have had similar experiences. Getting together with work peers can also uplift and renew, especially in this era of telecommuting, and communicating mostly by e-mail or phone. Then there are book clubs, hobby groups, and just friends or neighbors gathering. This past weekend reminded me of the importance of making the effort to get together more often. Now I'm off to have lunch with a friend. We've been trying to get together for months.
getting together with fellow artist friends
Posted on 2/21/2013 10:35:46 AM
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Artists are brave. Not brave like a firefighter who saves lives or a soldier in battle, but brave with a quieter inner strength. Think about creating something with a lot of time, energy and passion. Then take your creation and display it for lots of people to walk by, some pausing to view your creation, some passing right on by. Comments are made about your creation, good and bad, all within earshot. I am one of around 150 artists participating in two art exhibits as part of the Southeastern Wildlife Exposition. All of us will experience the ups and downs of participating in an art show. Even if you only create as a hobby and don't exhibit your creations publically, you understand the courage it takes to display your work, if only in your home for family and friends to see. Young children are the bravest, displaying their creations with enthusiasm, but as we get older, the bravery tends to fade and self-doubt and self-consciousness creep in. Take one of your creations - a painting, photograph, floral arrangement, beautifully arranged food, something you have written - and display it proudly. Build your inner strength. Yes, everyone has different tastes. I may like your work, or I may not. But I applaud your bravery.
brave - adj. 1: having courage
braving - v. 1: to face or endure with courage
SEWE Opening Night Reception at art show, Mills House Hotel
Posted on 2/5/2013 8:55:11 AM
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I'm sitting in the hallway of the Charleston County School of the Arts as I write this. Our daughter comes here once a week for a school district strings' orchestra rehearsal. In these halls are displays of students' artwork - drawings, paintings, and sculptures. Advertisements for upcoming performances and competitions are plastered on bulletin boards. The sounds of music being rehearsed drift down the hallways. Oh, to be young again and able to explore the many different paths in life... Do you ever wonder if you have some talent that was never uncovered when you were growing up? Perhaps with instruction, time, and practice, you could be great or at least well above average at something you never knew about? As a parent, I especially wonder about this. All of our children are exposed to different activities, but will never be able to try everything. It is fairly easy to discern general "likes" and "dislikes." But beyond that, there is some random luck involved in finding a talent. Is it possible to discover a new talent at a more advanced age? I love to hear of adults trying new things. A teacher's husband we know took up the cello as an adult. I am fortunate to have adult art students try out painting classes when they haven't tackled art projects since they were children. I did a little research about others that have discovered talents later in life and learned about a fascinating woman, Mary Delany. In 1771, in her early 70s, Mary began to create paper artworks as a way to deal with grief after her husband passed away. In a sophisticated form of decoupage, Mary cut tissue paper and created botanically accurate depictions of plants. She produced around 1,700 of these works from the age of 72 - 88. A single flower might be made of hundreds of pieces of paper. Her work is on display in the British Museum. Do you know of someone who has become accomplished at something later in life? Is there anything you would like to try? Check out Mary Delaney's work here for some inspiration.
Posted on 1/11/2013 1:40:10 PM
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"Mom, I want to go to China. Mom, I want to go to China" These were words said repeatedly by our daughter one day when she was in kindergarten. Finally, I bit. "Why?" She looked at me seriously, filled with hope for her upcoming journey. "That's where they make everything, Mom." Apparently, she had been putting her newly acquired reading skills to use looking at product labels, an interesting and astute observation. Let's hope not everything is made in China. I love to buy things made with TLC - artwork, handmade jewelry, pottery, and let's not forget well-prepared food! Although budget doesn't always permit it, handmade is so much more interesting than factory-made or a reproduction. We have a number of paintings and art pieces in our house, mostly items collected from artists I know and admire or from travels. I feel like there is good energy that comes from these objects. They are beautiful and interesting, or they remind me of a time, place or person. I have a scarf that was woven by hand by a weaver at Crossnore Weavers. We visited there and saw the women meticulously weaving on their big looms. Not only is the scarf made with lots of TLC, the proceeds from the purchase helped support the Crossnore residential children's home. Although the scarf is pretty, I could have found a more fashionable and less expensive one elsewhere, but the Crossnore scarf makes me feel really good when I wear it. I'm guessing that if you have some handmade items, you already appreciate them. Even your own creations or your children's handiwork can bring life to your home. Made in China? Yes, many things, but not the items that are the most precious.
Here are just a few of my favorite items made with TLC. Click on the links for samples of their work:
C.W. Mundy, artist - I especially like his loosely painted street scenes.
Don Rambadt, sculptor - I saw his contemporary wildlife sculpture at SEWE the last couple of years.
Felice Designs, jewelry maker - She make her beads by hand-blowing glass.
FIG, Charleston restaurant - Yum.
Out-of-Hand, florist, gift shop, event planning - Love their artistic floral arrangements.
Crossnore Weavers - Where I got the scarf.
Mary Jackson, sweetgrass basket maker - A local art form with origins from West Africa, passed down from generation to generation
Posted on 1/4/2013 2:29:00 PM
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It is that time. A new year... To resolve or not to resolve? Many years ago, I took a painting class and one of the other students was a very accomplished artist. Let me repeat - very accomplished. I couldn't believe she was in the class. She already had a very recognizable style of painting, and her work was collected by many, including museums. I was inspired by her because she was trying something new. She listened intently to the instructor and tried painting in a different medium and a different style. She didn't change her own style of painting after the class, nor should she have. I think she just enjoyed trying something new and maybe even learning a tidbit or two she could take with her. She was brave. Even as accomplished as she was, she struggled a bit and allowed those around her to see her struggle. Trying something new is something we could all resolve to do. It could be something small, maybe cooking with new ingredients or taking a day trip to someplace we've never been. Or it could be a grander goal, such as trying a new hobby or training for an athletic event. I think if we don't try new things, at least once in awhile, we are treading water. How much better is it to move forward, even if just a little?
"We keep moving forward, opening new doors, and doing new things, because we're curious and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths." - Walt Disney
Posted on 12/18/2012 10:48:43 AM
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When I write these blogs, I try to write about what is on my mind. So here goes... The news of the Sandy Hill Elementary shootings was horrific. We all find familiarity in the faces on the news and the stories we hear about the teachers and students. They remind us of the teachers and children in our own communities. And then last night it hit closer to home. I found out that the grandchild of someone I know and see almost weekly was one of the children killed. It is so terribly sad. Our hearts ache for the families directly impacted. I remember after another tragedy, 9-11, that many people had difficulty getting back to work and routine. Those directly impacted really struggled. In the design and art communities, many felt it difficult to pursue their passions. It seemed so trivial and insignificant. "Why should I paint a picture that will hang on someone's wall?" "Who cares what color the window treatments are?" "I don't feel like singing or playing a song or dancing." I have a professional artist friend who found it difficult to paint for years after a family loss. Then there are those that find art to be a solace in difficult times. Somehow, everyone finds their way back. Beauty in the world is a wonderful thing. Creative expression can soothe hearts, inspire, and uplift. The couple I know whose grandchild was killed are both artists, one a sculptor and the other a musician and music teacher. I pray they can find solace, and eventually, joy again from their art. Said Pablo Picasso, "The purpose of art is washing the dust of daily life off our souls." So we move on, limping at first, hopefully towards a more peaceful and beautiful place.
Slowly Moving On - a new day in the Lowcountry (photo by Sheryl Stalnaker)
Posted on 12/11/2012 9:38:30 AM
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I am easily lured into the possibilities presented by an art and craft supply store - the endless range of colors packed neatly into little paint tubes, the myriad of clean white canvases and drawing paper, brushes of all sizes, and then I move on... "Look at this clay. Maybe I could start sculpting. Oh, and all of the holiday items. I could have the most beautiful house. Or maybe I could make jewelry. That looks interesting." And on and on. You artsy-craftsy types know what I mean. It would be wonderful to have an unlimited budget for art supplies and to be able to build my dream art studio, but not at all necessary. I often hear, "I don't really have a good space in which to paint." I know an incredible artist, Chas Fagan, who lived down the street when we used to live in Charlotte. Before their house was eventually renovated, he painted presidential portraits and designed important public bronze sculptures in his dining room. I'm talking portraits commissioned by people like Barbara Bush. In my art classes, I show how a vaste range of colors can be created with just four tubes of paint: red, yellow, blue and white. If lack of supplies or resources are used as a reason not to create, then that reason is an excuse, not the real issue. Resourceful, creative people can always find a way. Please take a moment to click on the link below for a little inspiration, if you haven't yet seen the video about Landfill Harmonic (it is starting to make its way around social media). The video is my favorite of the year and only takes a few minutes to watch.
Posted on 12/7/2012 2:51:04 PM
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I just returned from a five hour Red Cross First Aid/CPR/AED training and certification class. Several years ago, near the close of another year, our family started talking about resolutions. My husband came up with the idea that we should each write down a few, post them on a bulletin board, and then see how we all did at the end of the year. One of mine for 2012 was to "follow through with good intentions" - those things I mean to do, but aren't urgent or never really make it to the top of my "to do" list. For years, I've thought it would be good to take a CPR class. A friend of mine mentioned that she was going to one. I signed up too. Finally. Another resolution for this past year was "to paint as much as possible." I know that goal isn't very defined, such as "paint 5 hours a day", but I think I've painted more than if I didn't have those words visibly posted. Why try to paint as much as possible? That is how I improve and produce works for shows and galleries. Plus of course, I enjoy it. If I go a stretch of time without painting, I get rusty, and if I only paint when I have deadlines, such as a commission or show, I don't build up inventory. Our kids write resolutions too. A couple years ago, one of our son's resolutions was to "get to the next level of Mario Kart (a video game). Hmmm... interesting goal. (We let that one slide, since his other resolutions were actually good.) It is getting near the end of the year. What can you resolve? Think of a few simple things and try writing them down.
painting as much as possible - Maestro, oil on board, 9" x 12" framed
for more info. about this painting, click here
Posted on 12/4/2012 3:43:41 PM
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This past weekend I started thinking about art restoration, in particular, the restoration of The Last Supper by Leonardo da Vinci. Restoration is an area of specialization in the art world, part art, a lot science. There are schools that teach art restoration in their curriculum. I wondered, "Why in the world did this blog idea pop into my head?" Oh yeah, we went to an Italian restaurant with another couple Friday night, which led to talk of travel to Italy, which led to thought of my past trips to Italy, which led to me thinking about the wonderful opportunities I had to see both the Sistine Chapel and The Last Supper while they were being restored. Interesting how our brain pathways connect... The painting by Leonardo da Vinci, The Last Supper, is in Milan, Italy. The old wall on which the scene is directly painted, is in a modern building. During WWII, the original structure was heavily bombed, nearly destroying the wall with da Vinci's famous painting. The wall was eventually braced and stabilized, while the surrounding walls were rebuilt. The painting, which was severely deteriorating, underwent a 20-year restoration which ended in 1999. The restoration process, led by an art restorer, Pinin Brambilla Barcilon, was painstaking. Using laboratory analysis, microscopes, coring surveys, and numerous other scientific and artistic methods, the painting was stabilized and original colors were restored. The cleaning and restoration were done at the rate of around one postage stamp size per day. On a good day, the size of a silver dollar was restored. Can you imagine tackling a project like that? For twenty years, day after day? Now that is dedicated work.
Click here to see before restoration & after restoration photos of The Last Supper
Posted on 11/30/2012 10:54:31 AM
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Where do ideas come from? How do great creative thoughts pop into our brains? It is fascinating to think about. Where are you and what are you doing when creative thoughts enter your mind? We all have a constant stream of thought swirling about in our brains and certainly way too much information bombarding us from all angles. I find it very difficult to generate creative thoughts during my usual cluttered times - when running errands, carpools, doing household tasks, working on the computer, or even when I'm around other people, including my family (although I love you all very much!). Some of my best creative ideas come to me when I am in one of three places: 1) in the shower - yes, really 2) sitting in the lobby of our daughter's music school when she has a lesson - there is often an instructor rehearsing great classical music in one of the adjoining rooms, quiet enough for wonderful background 3) sitting in bed at night propped against a pillow with a notepad and pen in my lap - no TV or noise. There are other times when I am instantly inspired by something I see, especially when I'm outside. But there has to be receptive space in my brain to notice it. Our brains need breathing room, a break from the constant noise and general interference bombarding us. Can you think of places or activities you've engaged in where ideas flow more freely for you? Feel free to share. Maybe we'll all get some new ideas! Give your brain a break and try to get to those places a little more often.
a change of scene from the Lowcountry, painted from a trip to the NC mountains
Morning Along Craig Creek, 22" x 26" framed
for more info. about this painting click here
Posted on 11/27/2012 10:13:09 AM
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We often gauge our enjoyment of big events by the event itself. Thanksgiving is "the feast". Christmas is "the day". A wedding is "the ceremony and reception". This past week, in anticipation of "the feast", our kids were enthusiastic potato mashers and then enjoyed listening to cranberries pop as they cooked on the stove. But their enthusiasm for preparing for guests and dinner quickly waned. I told them that whoever was still inside the house had to help clean. Quickly, I was left with a quiet, peaceful house in which to prepare. Often, in anticipation of an event, the preparation is underappreciated. Then the event comes and goes all to quickly. In the art world, the event is "the painting". Sometimes the tasks leading up to actually painting can feel like mundane chores - preparing reference materials, assembling supplies, cleaning brushes, organizing a studio... Before modern art supplies became readily available, artists spent hours preparing canvases, grinding pigments, making their own paints. Several years ago, I took a portrait painting workshop with an incredible artist, Jill Hooper. Jill studied for years in Europe and not only paints in a traditional manner, but also often prepares her own canvases and pigments like the old masters. She makes her own inks in a pot on the stove using soot and other materials for colorants. She heats rabbit skin glue on the stove to prepare canvas gesso. She grinds powder pigment to mix with binders. I loved Jill's enthusiasm as she showed us how she prepares her materials. It was equal to her enthusiasm for painting. If we appreciate and enjoy the process, along with the event, how much more joy could we have in our lives? I need to remember Jill's example of enthusiasm for the process and preparation as the Christmas season approaches and I get ready for an upcoming art show. But I have to admit, my husband might question my sanity if he finds a pot of soot ink bubbling on the stove amongst the Christmas goodies... How do you find joy in the process?
Shem Creek Morning, oil on canvas, 16" X 14" framed
for more info. about this painting, click here
Posted on 11/6/2012 8:03:22 PM
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I read that art teachers tend to be hoarders. I am generally more of a purger than a hoarder. You wouldn't necessarily know it if you saw our kitchen most of the time, but I prefer a more minimalist aesthetic. I do, however, have one cabinet in my studio where caution is advised before opening. It is stuffed with containers of varying sizes. My husband knows to ask before discarding any plastic food container sitting on the counter. Who knows, I might need it for art supply storage one day. I also tend to purge old artwork - not all, but a lot. Paintings I don't like succumb to an exacto knife and the trash. I find ripping up a canvas I deem subpar cathartic and liberating. I have saved a number of sketches and sketch books though. Some of these date way back. I was looking for something in my studio yesterday and came across the sketch below that was done when I was a teen. Now this has history. The TV was in my parents bedroom attached to a stand mounted to the wall. The stand was built and engineered by my dad, in hopes that it wouldn't topple to the ground in the event of an earthquake. (We lived in an earthquake zone about 40 miles from Mt. St. Helens.) I can take myself back to the time when I sat on my parents' bed and sketched. I can feel the texture of their slightly worn navy blue bedspread and envision the layout of their room. I remember my whole family in that room lounging and watching the Wonderful World of Disney on Sunday nights. Notice in the sketch the antenna, turn dials, and certain lack of a remote control. Now that was a sketch worth saving.
sketch (done in late 70s or early 80s) of TV in my parents' bedroom
Posted on 11/2/2012 2:24:21 PM
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Years ago, I had a tennis coach who told us that if a person spends an hour a day working hard at something, he or she will become good at it. Throw in natural ability and even more hours of practice and we could be at the top of our game. Last night I went to an event called the "Star Studded Art Extravaganza Painting Demonstration." (Who wouldn't want to go to an event with that title?) Five nationally-known portrait artists completed paintings from live models. They were at the "top of their game." Although all five were certainly blessed with more natural talent than most of us, they have all had years and years of instruction, practice, and just plain hard work to get to their level. I have had many people tell me, "I can't draw." My thought is, "Are you able to play a beautiful piano piece without instruction and hard work?" No. Same with art. Of course, everyone has different natural gifts. Some take advantage of them, some don't. And sometimes those without the natural gift can get there with lots of hard work. Is there something new you would like to try or improve upon? What do you want to do with your "hour a day?"
Leading the Way, oil on board, 14" x 16" framed
Posted on 10/30/2012 8:53:25 PM
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It is so easy to NOT notice. We drive the same routes daily. We are in the same places, next to the same people. That is why traveling to a new destination seems so exciting. We notice so much more. What if you treated today like you were someplace new? What if you really looked at the plants outside your door, the colors you pass on your daily routes, the eyes of the people you've grown so used to? Painting and drawing forces you to really, really look. That is how something simple or a scene viewed daily can be rediscovered. Noticing your surroundings, even if you aren't capturing them on paper or canvas, is like being on vacation in an exciting new place daily. Yesterday I was in the car doing early evening errands with our daughter. We had a list of places to be and things to get done. But as I pulled up to a stoplight, the clouds were literally parting in front of us and rays of sunlight were streaming down. Instead of heading to the grocery store like I needed to, we headed to Shem Creek Park (Mt. Pleasant, SC) to view the sunset. Now granted, where I live is beautiful and not everyone can drive down the street to see the view we had. But there were hundreds and hundreds of cars on the road around us and only four people at the park. We never made it to the grocery store last night. I just went today instead. I wonder how many people have noticed the beautiful skies around us this week? I now know my daughter has, even though last night she thought mom was a little crazy. What can you notice or rediscover as you go about your daily routines?
view from Shem Creek Park, taken with my cell phone camera, which didn't quite capture the beauty we saw in person...
Posted on 10/23/2012 7:36:33 PM
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I went to Clemson University with my family this past weekend. Almost everyone there was wearing orange. I support my husband's alma mater, but at present, I don't own any orange clothing and didn't go out and buy any. I had on gray pants and a blue-gray shirt. Who would think those colors would stand out? Sitting in the stadium stands, I was like a stroke of gray paint on a canvas covered with varying shades of orange. In painting terms, I was a focal point. When painting, some artists may prefer a dominance of bright, saturated hues. Others prefer more monochromatic or tonalist colors. But the best artists often add some of the other for more interest or to create a focal point. I've included links below which show painting examples of these two different approaches. The first is an abstracted figurative painting by artist, Dru Warmath. Notice the predominance of warm, bright colors, with the more muted gray figure as contrast. The other painting is by artist, Chris Groves. His landscape is dominated by muted greens and earth tones with the contrast of orange peeking through the trees. Which approach do you prefer? All I know is next time, I'll probably wear orange...
Posted on 10/16/2012 11:24:20 AM
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Many painters over the years have gravitated to areas like the Southwest and coastal California to paint landscapes. The air is crisp and the colors are bright. Our lowcountry air is, well, interesting. There are times in the summer when the humidity is thick and the sky is a hazy light grey for weeks. Cast shadows are softened. Distance is viewed through a sheer veil. Crispness in the air? Definitely not. But lowcountry air is at least interesting because it changes with the seasons. The fall air is finally upon us and the skies are getting bluer. Colors are getting brighter. The edges of cast shadows are crisper. Time to get outside and paint. What have you noticed? Really look around the next time you go outside and enjoy this change of seasons.
Posted on 10/11/2012 6:30:28 PM
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Why are you doing whatever it is you are doing today? Or tomorrow? Or next week? When I start a painting I've learned to ask myself, why am I painting this and what do I want to convey? Last fall I was in a group show at the Wells Gallery in Charleston called, Metaphoric. We were asked to paint a painting based on a literary inspiration. I had to write out my thoughts which were posted beside the painting in the gallery. A real challenge. But it made me start thinking even more about the inspiration behind what I do. If my why is "because I have "x" number of walls to fill for an upcoming exhibit, so I need 3 more paintings, and I ought to paint "y" because they usually sell..." then this may be reality, but I'm certainly not inspired. This will show up in lackluster work. I know most of us already know why we are doing what we do, but maybe we need to pause and remind ourselves. Sounds simple, but we all get busy and caught up in our routines. Our "whys" don't have to be profound, but they also shouldn't be something we rationalize or have to talk ourselves into either. We might just come up with a really good reason which can reinvigorate and motivate for a greater purpose. If I just can't come up with a good why, maybe it is time to move on. I have a stack of "reject'' paintings in my studio where I moved on. The smaller ones are actually in a plastic bin labled "unfinished/rejected". They didn't have a good why.
Wide Open, 3' x 5' (sold) - painting from the Metaphoric show, along with my literary reference:
"It’s opener there in the wide open air”
Dr. Seuss, from Oh the Places You’ll Go
Dr. Seuss’ writings, which I’ve rediscovered as an adult with young children, are filled with profound truths. “It’s opener there in the wide open air” gives me the feeling I get when surrounded by unspoiled marsh. The broad expanse of marsh and sky helps me to breathe more easily, see more clearly, and feel God’s presence. It is my hope that you can expand your senses as well, opening your eyes and your hearts - wide open.
Posted on 10/4/2012 7:57:27 PM
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Visualize this - there is a rubber ball consisting of one great creative idea bouncing around inside your head. It bounces and bounces, stopping to rest at times, only to bounce some more. Finally, the ball insists on popping out of your mouth as a statement: "I'm going to write a book." "I'm going to start a non-profit." "I'm going to become a fitness instructor." "I'm going to start a travel blog for families." These are all real statements I've heard from friends of mine over the past year. I remember when my bouncing ball popped out of my mouth. It was years ago on a family trip. I had enjoyed art all my life, but at the time, I was working in the corporate world and wasn't yet "An Artist." I had recently returned from an inspiring 10-day painting workshop in Italy. I borrowed from my 401-K to go on the trip. I announced to my husband and family, "I'm going to become An Artist." No one was really listening... But I heard it out loud for the first time. What ball is bouncing around in your head, ready to pop out as a bold statement?
A footnote - On the same family trip, I remember my software engineer brother talking about something called the "world wide web." No one had heard of it. Apparently, he thought it might end up being something big.
painting by Sheryl Stalnaker - "Drifting Clouds"
for more information about this painting, click here
