Bodies in motion...

...stay in motion.

This is what went through my mind the other day when, as I was running with my little sidekick in her jogging stroller a neighbor said, "You have so much energy!" I laughed (a sort of panting, half laugh), but the fact of the matter is that I exercise in order to have energy. It's a vicious cycle, but the less I exercise, the less I feel like exercising, so the less I exercise, so the less I feel like exercising, etc.  I'm sure you all know what I mean. As I ran along thinking this it occurred to me that creativity is the same way. If I'm creating, I'm constantly inspired and ideas seem to flow. If, however, I sit around waiting for inspiration it never comes and my well runs dry.  

In painting, as in exercising, there are days when I feel like I just don't have it in me. However, I've realized I very rarely feel better because I "rested." Instead I usually feel annoyed with myself, short-tempered, off-center. So, on the days when painting seems like a monumental task (because anything you're committed to will, at times, be hard work), I tell myself I'm just going to "show up." I savor the ritual of laying out my paints on my palette; I dab at my colors, mixing, experimenting; I touch up just this tiny section. Usually, by this point, either I'm feeling better and back in my element, or I've uncovered the real source of my resistance ("I hate this subject," or, "I'm bored with this size," or often, "I'm scared I won't be able to pull this off."). 

You're allowed to walk. You're allowed to take it easy. You're allowed to have off days. The important thing is to keep moving. 

I was rewarded by a beautiful sunset at the end of my run.

*Note: I'm in the process of changing blogs. Please follow me at erinhardin.wordpress.com. Thanks!

The Next Right Thing

When my husband and I were just a guy and a girl who kind of liked each other but weren't dating, we went running together a lot. These were our "dates." I remember one time when I was just about dying for the timer on his watch to go off, signaling the end of our run.
"How much longer do we have to go?" I wheezed.
"Ten minutes," Josh answered, looking at his watch.
Ten minutes! I couldn't go ten more minutes! Overwhelmed by the thought of such an insurmountable amount of time, I stopped. Sure I probably could have gone a little longer, but not ten whole minutes longer, so why bother? Thirty seconds later his alarm went off.
He had been attempting to motivate me to keep going by implying that we hadn't been running nearly as long as it had seemed. However, that's just not how my mind works. I'm not one of those that can look toward the summit as motivation to get up the mountain. I have to focus on this step, then the next, then the next, each in its own turn.

I've discovered this applies not just in running, but in other aspects of my life. Kitchen's a mess? Just do the dishes in the sink. Then just put away the clean dishes, clear off just this area of the counter, etc.  I find it especially applicable to art where every creation is, in some way shape or form, unchartered territory. This painting is too huge and I have a deadline? Don't focus on the deadline. Just paint in this moment, just work on this square inch. I have a show coming up and I'll never get enough work finished? Just focus on this step. Go to the art supply store, sit at your easel, paint, clean your brushes, block off your painting time for tomorrow, and so forth. Julia Cameron, author of The Artist's Way and several other books on creativity calls this doing, "the next right thing." Last week when I wanted to cry constantly for the loss of my pet, "the next right thing" kept me moving through that initial pain to bittersweet acceptance and peace. From exercise, to art, to life and loss, taking one more right step will see you through. What is the next right thing that will take you one step further up your mountain?

My current "mountain." I feel like I'll never get this pine cone right!

Anyone have any overwhelming projects looming on the horizon? How do you handle them? Any tricks to share? I'd love to hear from you!

To see my last painting of a pine cone (which I also moaned over until the last coat, when I ended up loving it), click here.

Drastic Measures had to be taken

New Beginnings and New Beginnings II

You may remember this picture of two of my paintings at the Birmingham Art Association juried show from this post and I told you here of some of the struggles I had with New Beginnings. However, I don't think I ever shared with you the kinda scary measures I had to take to complete New Beginnings II.  

I was having a REALLY hard time getting the shape of the egg right. It was turned at a sort of awkward angle and I just couldn't quite get the curve. One of the things I love about painting is that pretty much everything is fixable. Just paint over it! This time, though, more extreme measures had to be taken. I felt the need for a clean start in that area (a "new beginning," Ha!). So, I sanded it down. Yep! It was a little scary. Look below-

Sorry for the kinda awful photos. My husband had the good camera with him. Do you see the really shiny halo around the egg? That's where I sanded it back down to the bare aluminum. Then I turned both the painting and my reference photo upside down (a good little trick to turn off that voice in your head that says, "An egg looks like this,").

                                                 

I've written a lot about letting your paintings go through their ugly stage and not giving up on them prematurely (see this post and this post, for example). In this case, it just took a little more extreme parental involvement!

Adolescence

A current painting in its "adolescent" phase

You remember that age- the awkward tween years when suddenly your body didn't fit you right, your skin started doing weird things, and you forgot how to talk to anyone over the age of 12 or any member of the opposite sex of any age. It was rough. It was embarrassing. But you got through it, and look at you now! Wearing clothes that fit, understanding how makeup works, and talking to bank tellers and grocery store clerks without stuttering or blushing. 

Well this is just a reminder that brain children go through the same awkward phase. They start out as beautiful, pristine canvases (or lumps of clay, or in my case, sheets of metal) full of potential. Then, as they develop you may reach a point where you say, "Is this really going to work?" and you fear that your poor little creation is destined to forever be an ugly duckling. See it through. Nurture and love it for what it could and will be. Like I've said before, you gotta work past the ugly (click the link for other works in progress and the source of that quote)! 

Any of you ever given up on a project because you just couldn't stand the ugly phase? It happens. Any of you ever pick that abandoned project back up and see it through? I'd love to see the results and hear your stories!

Stay tuned for follow-up pictures in the development of the painting above.

Common Mistakes of the New Artist and How to Avoid Them; Part II

Disclaimer: As I said in Part I of this post, there are no hard and fast rules to art. At some point you may purposefully choose to commit one of these "mistakes" to achieve a specific goal. The important thing is that you choose to do do it, rather than doing one of these things because of lack of knowledge. Ok, let's carry on!

Mistake #6: Bad Composition. Composition is one of those details that can truly make or break a painting. You might have an absolutely beautiful subject that you've painted wonderfully, but if your composition is wrong it may leave the viewer unsettled or bored. Here are some examples of bad composition and why they are bad. 

Exhibit A:

What's happening here?

The image above almost achieves an L shaped composition, which can be used to sort of "frame" an object of interest. However, there is nothing of interest in that vast expanse of blue so the picture is just boring and a little confusing. To improve the composition I may add a red balloon or some other point of interest to that space of blue.

Exhibit B1:

The edges of the subject just barely
 fit inside the picture, appearing forced.

The above painting of an apple is not great composition for a couple of reasons. Problem #1 is that it feels forced. The apple comes right to the edges of the painting, making it appear that the artist (me) was trying too hard to get all of the subject into the frame. To fix this problem, I would either need to zoom in closer on my subject, or back up enough that there is comfortable space between the edges of the apple and the border of the picture. Problem #2 is that the stem is pointing out of the picture. However, it is far enough away from the edge of the picture that it's not a serious problem. The picture below shows a similar problem.

Exhibit B2:

The beetle is walking out of the picture, possibly
leading the viewer's interest out of the picture as well.

Exhibit B3:

This is a better composition than B3
because of the position of the subject.

Exhibit C1:

There is no clear center of interest, making the picture boring.

Again, there are a couple of problems with this picture. Problem #1 is that the center of interest is not clear. Problem # 2 has to do with color and balance of light and dark. Most of the colors in the picture are of the same value (level of light or dark). If we zoom in like so:

Exhibit C2:

It greatly improves the picture, however it would still benefit from greater contrast between lights and darks, and perhaps in the colors themselves, as well (for example, a purple butterfly instead of one that matches the flowers). 

Once again, these are only guidelines. Don't let rules dictate your art (or worse, intimidate you from creating art all together). If you feel that your pictures are missing the mark somehow, however, a look at these tips may help you put your finger on the problem. Remember, experience is the best teacher and with time you'll develop a sense of what works and what doesn't. 

Common mistakes of the new artist and how to avoid them; Part I

I'm trying to provide plenty of visual examples, therefore this will be a 2 part post.
I've been looking at some of my older paintings and noticing the mistakes I made as a newbie artist. About 6 years ago when I started painting, I had no formal training. I just bought some acrylic paints and sorta went to town. Over the years I have gained some knowledge (both from mentors and formal training, and from experience) and the quality of my work (as well as my style) has WILDLY changed. I won't say that one style is better than the other, but my techniques have definitely improved. Below are some mistakes I made and that other rookie painters  tend to make and how to avoid or fix them.

Note: There are exceptions to every rule and you may choose at some point to commit one of these "mistakes" in order to achieve a specific effect.  However, the important word there is "choose." What I have listed here are mistakes people often unconsciously make when getting started painting. 

Mistakes to avoid:

Mistake #1: Making brush strokes go in all one direction. Check it out: 

Brush strokes should not go all one direction

Vary the directions of the strokes

It is especially tempting to make your strokes go in one direction when you're trying to fill a large space like an empty background. Varying your strokes looks much more natural. While we're on the subject of backgrounds...

Mistake # 2: Making the background an after-thought. Ideally you want to paint the background before the main subject. Especially on the last coat (or, of you work with one thick coat instead of many thin coats, you probably want to add to the edges of the items in the foreground of the picture at the end).  If you completely finish the subject and then try to paint the background, the edges will have a forced feel to them. I usually try to paint from back to front. For example, in the painting below, I painted the yellow and red marbles before the blue, since the blue one is in front.

Mistake #3: Finishing one area of the painting at a time. I know that you don't have endless time to paint and painting a layer over the entire painting at each sitting may not be doable. That's not what this is about. The mistake many new artists make is completely finishing one part of the picture before starting on another part. The result is usually a very disjointed final picture. Below are some examples of working on the whole painting rather than one bit at a time. These pictures show one of my paintings in progress.

See how the entire painting progresses from less detail to more detailed rather than filling in all the details of one part while neglecting the rest of the painting? If you find yourself getting too caught up in one little part of the picture, walk away for a few minutes and view it from a distance as a whole.

Mistake #4: Not using a reference or model (if you're doing a representational painting rather than a non-representational abstract).


Mistake #5: Painting what you think you should see instead of what you actually see.

Mistakes #4 and #5 go hand in hand. Say you're painting a picture of an apple. Your brain will probably say, "I know what an apple looks like," so you either attempt to paint without an apple as a model, or you don't look at your model and you paint a roundish thing with a stem. Even if your goal is not realism, having the subject in front of you and truly looking at the qualities of the model will improve and vitalize your picture. Try to turn off that little voice in your head that applies symbols to objects (example: "Apples are round, doors are rectangles, etc."). If you're working from a photograph rather than from life, it might help to turn the picture (and your painting) upside down so that it is less recognizable to your brain. If something seems off with your picture and you can't figure out what it is, it helps to hold the painting (and reference photo, if using) up to a mirror. By reversing the image, you can often see what is and isn't working.

Stay tuned for part II of this post! Are you having any painting problems that you'd like me to address? I love hearing from you!

Work in progress: Movin' right along!

Thanks to my wonderful baby getting on a nap-time routine, I've really made some progress on Bright Idea. I've decided that in a weird way working around baby girl's schedule has actually made me a little more disciplined. I know that I only have an hour to paint and I get right to work rather than letting other stuff get in my way and distract me. Here's how it looked my last post:

The next time I painted I mainly focused HERE: 

And here it is now:

I think all I have to do is figure out those silly corners that are giving me such trouble. Any tips anyone?

Work in progress (or "Guess who's back!")

I have an announcement. I, yes I, mother to a 5-month-old (and disorganized owner of 3 dogs AND now aspiring Pilates instructor- more on that later) am FINALLY feeling back to normal and am painting again. So, back to my work in progress, tentatively called Bright Idea. You may remember MONTHS ago, back before I wasn't so pregnant that painting was an aerobic endeavor, I started a painting. You can see the first posts here, here, and here. Well, I've gotten to work on it a few times lately and here's the current progress:

I'm going to have to stop categorizing my progress by day (day 1, day 2, etc.) because sometimes I get to work for 10 minutes, sometimes 2 hours, but the important thing is, I'm working and it feels great!

I need some help, though. The corners are bothering me. The bowl that I placed the lightbulb in to "pose" for this painting has a lattice-type pattern around the lip. I'm not sure how I feel about it in the painting, though. So talk to me people. What do you think? Is it distracting? Interesting? Does it add to the picture or is it just pointless? 

Tell me what's going on with y'all, too? Life changes making time for art difficult? How are you coping? Update me. 

Whoa! I have a baby!

Created using the ZenBrush application on iPad

Well, as you probably gathered by my subject line, I had my baby! A beautiful, healthy baby girl born October 29th.  I expected it to be an adjustment, but wow...I feel like I'm really just now getting my feet back under me. I haven't gotten to do any art since she was born, but I think we're finally getting into a groove. I'm loving being a mom, but I can't let what makes me, me completely disappear.

With the new year and new life stage, I've also had some new thoughts on art. As a fairly new artist, I've been trying to follow all the rules. One of those rules being, "Your art must have a consistent theme." I agree that themes are good and I agree that it's best if my art all looks like my art, but that's not something that can be forced. I've got some new ideas that I'm excited to explore- new textures, new painting surfaces, new themes. I'm not the same person from minute to minute, so how can my art be the same for the rest of my life? There are different aspects to me and there are different aspects to my art. With time, I believe those different facets will all join to form one big, consistent, crazy quilt of a picture... with time. 

And as usual, my attitude about art and about life change in sync. I'm not a super-organized person, I'm not a super-schedule oriented person, however I tried to make myself that way believing that that was the way to be a productive artist. Instead of being productive, though, I usually was just frustrated that scheduling was not working out as planned. I've realized in the last couple of months, though, that I need to capitalize on the fact that I'm flexible and enjoy.

So, here's to life and all of its changes and stages. Here's to art and adaptation. Here's to 2012. Happy New Year!

Work in progress- Day 2- First coat finished

Obviously, I finished the first coat- it's always my least favorite coat, however it also goes the fastest. I don't get to really get lost in the colors and details of the painting during this coat, though, because it's all about mapping it out generally. Plus, since I work on metal, I can't get too detailed with the first coat just because the surface is still so slippery. Now the fun part :)

Work in progress- Day 1 "Work past the ugly"

My friend Sunny Carvalho took a class once from a woman who kept reminding her students that "ya gotta work past the ugly." That has become my mantra because most paintings, especially the ones that turn out well, have at least one point where you look at them and go, "What am I doing? This looks terrible!" As visual artists, I think it's really easy to immediately cast a work of art aside when it gets to that stage, whether it's because we're afraid to proceed, embarrassed for others to see the ugly stage, or because we don't know that even the most beautiful of swans has to spend some time as an ugly duckling.

I started a new painting today and currently, it looks pretty awful. I've come to expect that, though. However, its ugliness inspired me to share the many life phases of my paintings with you. So, here it goes!

Day 1: I drew an outline in pencil of where the main objects and reflections of the painting would be, however I didn't take a picture (it probably wouldn't have shown up anyway). So, we'll skip just to the painting part. I didn't quite finish the first coat, but above is what I got done today.

Not lookin' great, huh? The prettiest part of the painting currently is the copper which has yet to be painted. Be patient, though. It'll get there. I'll be posting in-progress pictures of the painting in the next few posts and we'll see how it turns out. In the meantime, take it easy on yourselves. If you're working on something that just doesn't seem to be flowing, remember, "Ya gotta work past the ugly."

I confess I have been quite distracted and unproductive lately. I don't know if it's due to summer, pregnancy brain (we just found out we're having a girl), or what, but I vow this week to get back track. I've done pretty well so far and, I must say, I feel better when I'm productive.

When I was a little girl my Memaw gave me a tiny brass vase. I didn't really think about or notice it much growing up, however it is in my mental snapshots of every place I've ever lived- from my childhood bookcase, to teenage dresser, to college dorm desk, to my current spare room studio.  It's held a wide array of flowers from remnants of bouquets to weeds that I thought were pretty. It makes me happy. I know it's just a vase, but I like that it's been with me so long. I like the millions of different colors I see in it. And I love who gave it to me.

Recently my little vase has found its way into my art. I have wondered if I should polish it, but I like that if you look closely there are millions of fingerprints on it. I wonder if I would see all the reds, greens, and lavenders in it if I cleaned it up. So, I think for now I like it just the way it is. My sturdy, loyal, little vase. 

Practical stuff

I'm teaching a friend how to oil paint. I don't really think of myself as knowing a lot or being an expert in painting- it's just something I do. However, in trying to teach my friend I realized that I not only know more than I realize, but also that I have so much information that has become such a part of me that trying to organize it in a teachable way is a good challenge.

There are so many things I don't even think about until I have to explain them to someone else. Laying out my palette is one of them. So, for anyone who's interested, here's how I lay out my paints so that I can find them without breaking my concentration.

Ok, so I separate the paints by warmer colors on the top row and cooler colors on the bottom row. The neutrals go along the sides.
On the top row I have (in order) crimson, red, orange, yellow, yellow ochre, and burnt umber. Though burnt umber and raw umber could probably be considered neutrals, I separate them so that I don't get confused- they can look so much alike on the palette! Burnt umber has a definite reddish tinge to it, though, so it goes up top. I love transparent colors, so I have a special place for them on my palette that many people may not have. My transparent reds and oranges go under their more conventional colors. So below my top row of warm colors I have brown pink, transparent earth red, transparent earth orange, and Indian yellow.
On the bottom row I have my cool colors. In order, they are Paynes grey, dioxazine purple, ultramarine blue, phthalo blue, manganese, phthalo turquoise, and raw umber. As I said, my neutrals go along the side. On the left I have Caucasian flesh tone and zinc white. On the right I have titanium white. I rarely use black, but if I did have it out it would go on one side or the other.

Of course your palette will probably look different because we use different colors or simply because you have found that another way works better for you. I just know that this works for me. People have asked, so I'm happy to share.
Have a great day everyone!

(Somewhat) Quick Paintings

Most recent quick study

I've been having a hard time focusing lately (more on the reason why in a later post). My typical reflection paintings on metal take SO long to do- several layers of paint, each taking several hours, with drying time in between that they just seem daunting when I'm so distractible. So, in a quest for more immediate gratification I've been doing a series of short, quick paintings on gessoed particle board. I'm normally such a careful, detailed painter that it's good for me to do "fast" paintings once in a while. I put fast in quotes because I still spend 1-2 hours on them. I've done about 10 of them now and I think I'm getting better at getting my subject down quickly. What do you think?

Quick study #1