…Hello?
January 26, 2008 by christeenswan
*grins*
Hi there! I’ve spent this afternoon painting, after a looong break, and man does it feel refreshing. I hope to have something to show for it soon. Stay tuned!
Please bear with me. This is a long post, but an important one for me. I had a creative misadventure that hit me so hard that I really just could NOT make myself paint for awhile. I felt like a sham- like I wasn’t REALLY a painter. And worse, after not painting for a couple of weeks, I really felt like there was nothing worth painting. I’d lost my ability to find anything around me beautiful, or interesting. I was bored, very discontented, and kind of lonely. I’ve really missed the fellowship of the artists I enjoy keeping up with!
Here’s the misadventure in retrospect…
The holidays. The busiest, most high stress time of the year. For whatever reason, I felt inspired to take on a project that was, I think, doomed from the beginning. I was trying to use a new field easel, switch the mediums I use to paint and clean my brushes, and I’d tackled a large, complicated painting of some pomegranates. Not from a photograph, either! This time, I figured I’d make myself a still life box! So I did! I cut an opening in one side of a nice sized box, gave the inside a dark, swooshy coat of paint, cut a window to shine my desk lamp through on one side, and got busy. Yay - I was going to paint fruit from life! The arrangement was absolutely striking! I was so proud! (Prematurely, of course) What a recipe for disaster!
The field easel was a very exciting gift that I received from my Dad for Christmas. A perfect gift! I’d been really struggling with trying to rig my standard easel somehow, so I could start painting standing up. Too much time sitting on my ass makes me a disgruntled gal! Talk about aches and pains! So I gleefully set this thing up, got it at an angle I liked, and went to town on my overly large and complicated pomegranate painting.
I was using an oil blend instead of the odorless mineral spirits & Liquin I normally paint with. After a few hours, I was feeling frustrated and stupid. I don’t think I’ve EVER had such a crappy painting session! I just had no clue what I was doing, or how to use this stuff to get my poor paints to behave the way I needed them to. It was evening, and I was using lamps to paint by. There was just no good way to place them- if I could clearly see the colors I was mixing, I had an obnoxious glare on the canvas. When I moved the light so it didn’t glare off the canvas, I couldn’t see what I was mixing. Bumble, bumble, bumble. Sooo… I did what any self respecting artist would do. I walked away, and figured I’d re-approach it the next morning. (Translate that: Stomped off in a disgusted huff.)
As I wandered back to my abandoned easel later that evening, I observed that one of the wing nuts on the legs had worked loose, and the freaking thing was slowly toppling over. Open bowl of this oil medium stuff, and a wet palette, about to tumble off onto the floor- *screams* Ok, ok, so I caught it, and averted the mess. I set it all back up, and tightened everything, and left it for the evening, having made SURE there was nothing on it except the crappy pomegranates. *coughs* I mean, work in progress.
The next morning, the OTHER leg had collapsed due to another stupid loosened wing nut. UGH!! My crappy painting was stuck face-down to the dinning room floor. I straightened up this lumbering monster, peeled my crappy art off the floor, and decided to wipe it, and start over. I was secretly relieved. I put some nice music on, and happily set to work. I completely changed my composition, and I think it’s really much better. On and on, with the freaking weird medium that I don’t know how to use. I felt like I’d forgotten how to paint! It was really a struggle to work with this stuff. After what was an embarrassingly long time working, I ended up with what I would consider a decent under-painting. By the time it was getting dark, the canvas was pretty well covered, and very wet. I was pleased. I was also a little nervous that my still life was starting to shrivel up under the hot light I’d used in my still life setup. I tried taking some photos, with no luck. The Photography Gods were angered with me, and no amount or oreos and milk would placate them. I could accept that, and move on.
I figured I’d take a break from working on the canvas and let it really dry well. I happily started doodling new paintings to work on, and futzed around the apartment for the rest of the day. Again- later that night a leg of the easel had let loose and collapsed in on itself- this time the thing was lurching backwards. Ugh. Fixed it. AGAIN.
The painting wasn’t dry enough to work on the next day. *sighs* I kept staring at it, seeing all kinds of things I needed to work on. I kept checking out my gradually perishing pomegranates. They certainly didn’t look the same as they had when I put the still life together!
Sooooo… after a break that was a lot longer than I’d wanted, I finally got back to work on it. The nightmare with the medium started all over again. I was clumsy, and couldn’t mix anything the way I wanted it. I was getting exasperated with all this mixing and mixing and wiping and mixing and more wiping. Finally, the freaking easel toppled again- this time, while I was USING IT. It toppled a lot quicker, too. No slow, painful decent this time. No. In a blink, I was wearing my palette, painting , and all my wet brushes were like pick up sticks all over my shoes. I was holding the easel. It had smacked me in the forehead as it lurched forward. I was totally incredulous at what had just happened.
Was all that for real? Like, can painting really go THAT badly? I’m here to tell you, Yes. Yes, it certainly can.
By the time I’d cleaned up the mess I was thoroughly ticked off. I collapsed the new easel back into it’s neat little boxy alter ego, and put all my painting stuff away. It’s stayed put away too! I had to throw out my still life arrangement, so I had no reference to work from anymore any way.
*I’ve learned from my mistakes. I swear. *
Today, I’m painting a small, relatively simple painting of a bunch of pieces of chocolate. I am painting from a photograph- because a photograph won’t melt under hot light, AND, I won’t be tempted to eat my subject matter.
I’m using my regular mediums. I’m using my old easel- sitting down. If I try to get back into working without solvents, I’m going to start with exercises- And make the change gradually. No more nightmare extravaganzas of problems waiting to happen. I honestly didn’t realize at the start of that last project that I was setting myself up for grief by working SOOO differently from what I’m comfortable with. The canvas was too big, the still life should have been photographed, I should not have tried to work on a dark painting at night (DUH.) and I should have taken it easy with switching mediums and brush cleaners. No wonder I felt like I didn’t know what I was doing! *rolls eyes*
Christeen ‘I should have been a freaking rocket scienst’ Swan, signing out.
What was the misadventure? Take it from me, you have talent. Your muse will return.
Thanks so much for the encouragement, Lisa! My misadventure was a long silly story that I’d put under a cut. Except the cut didn’t work. I’ve fixed it now. Sorry about that
Christeen, good to see you back. Just do what brings you joy! hope lots of fun awaits you.
Ronell
Christeen, I had similar problems with my field easel. The truth is I just bought that stupid thing, because it was the cheapest (standing) easel in the art shop (about 20 bucks) and I thought that it isn’t that place consuming since it is foldable. But I soon learned that it was difficult to get it straight, the bolts tend to magically unscrew themselves at times, let’s make it short: it… is crap!! So I saved my money and bought myself a serious atelier easel. All I can say: it was worth it.
Actually that’s what I would recommend to you, too. Get yourself a good quality easel and you’ll fall in love with painting again ;-))). It would be a pity if we wouldn’t see more of your beautiful paintings.
(By the way, what was this mysterious “oil blend” you have used?)
This is quite a tale, Christeen! But I’m glad you’re back and look forward to more of your lovely work.
I’ve been missing you, Christeen - but my life had also gotten a little complicated lately, so I figured I just hadn’t seen your posts.
I’m so sorry about your painting misadventure, although it makes a great story. Too bad there wasn’t someone on hand to take photos… I sometimes have trouble with my field easel too - one day I’ll have to get myself a proper one.
Oh my god! That was so rewarding a read — to hear that someone else had been there too! I know exactly what you’re talking about (except the collapsing easel–I’ve seen it in action numerous times in my plein air classes and that’s one of the reasons I chose not to get a french easel. I’ve also been through many variations of the medium problem, including one that worked great but when the painting dried the paint film wrinkled like an old raisin.
I went through all those lighting agonies and photographing nightmares and have worked out some good solutions if you’d like to hear about it. I’ve also learned to paint with virtually no medium (which forces you to actually use quantities of paint rather than treating the oil paint like watercolors which is what I was initially trying to do.
I hope you’re over the awfulness and sharing your wonderful paintings again soon!
Christeen! Your misadventures actually make for a great story. You’re a great story-teller btw. I mean, it is kinda good for us regular folk to know that ultra-talented artists like you have the same kind of problems as the rest of us! Looking forward to your paintings again!
I’m shaking my head in sympathy. I had much the same thing happen with my french easel, which was holding a tray of very very expensive and very very fragile pastels when it hit the floor. I have these two jars of lovely pastel dust now, one a darkish mix and one a lightish mix, that I can use for an underpainting. I guess that’s a lot better than dealing with OIL paint! Yikes! I’m glad to see you back, and to hear the excitement in your “voice.” You’re a wonderful artist — and I’ll bet you return to art even stronger than before!
hi Christeen! hope you’re doing great. I hope all this incident hasn’t made you stay away from your beautiful art. Want to see some more new paintings soon!!! hugs.
Christeen you have a gift for telling a story. What a time you had. I can relate to your misadventure and it shows how human you are. I laughed and wanted to cry with you. Gives me a sense of your determination and your humour. Very likeable.