If you recall, last week I decided to re-work a painting I made earlier this year. I tried to document the change so I could show you on the blog… but half-way through I became too immersed to take photographs. Oops. Hopefully you can still see how the old painting acted as a foundation for the new one:
I’ve been testing a theory that if you don’t like a painting you’re creating, simply add a dog to the image. Now, I’ve only tried it out a few times but so far I’ve been quite happy with the results.
I’m not done working on this painting but thought I’d show you the pooch I painted in today. I was out on the town this Spring making my watercolor portraits of Portales when this guy scampered by, shaggy fur blowing in the breezes, sunlight catching his chinny chin chin. I snapped a photo for future use and am so glad I did. It made me deliriously happy to paint him.
Just ignore the chaos currently surrounding him… it will all be worked out soon 😉
After two weeks of drawing it was nice to get back to painting today. I’ve had these images in my mind for weeks, so it was a relief to get the chance (and have the energy) to turn them into paintings:
Hello again! It has been a productive week in the studio, what with finishing Quilted Lake and now getting to complete a second painting.
This one was started a while back and wasn’t working for me so it was set aside and stared at it with a gloomy expression for a few months. In that time ideas popped up and swam around with all the other detritus in my brain until finally something more solid was able to form…
I knew I had a few pictures somewhere of an outdoor cat named “Butters” sitting on our neighbor’s roof. I had taken them over two years ago when we lived in a different neighborhood and Butters and I spent a lot of time together. (Some of you already know of Butters. I’ve posted some photos of him on this blog before. I pretended he was mine, but he was owned/fed by some people a few houses down. I’m not sure how much affection they gave him though because he would come running down the road when he heard my car or bike and demand pats.)
I dug around a bit on my computer and found the photos I remembered. Then I did more digging around and found about five or six other photographs to use as resources to invent this landscape as it had formed in my mind.
Here are some process pictures from yesterday and today:
The photograph I’m using for reference I took when I was 13 and had a summer job babysitting a boy and his cats.
Random memory: we ate a lot of Cambell’s chunky soup that summer… Something else we did was put pop* cans in the freezer (we timed this meticulously so that they wouldn’t explode) until they were a nice slushy consistency, cut the tops off (I did this part so Junior** wouldn’t hurt himself) then ate the home-made slushies with spoons. We thought we were geniuses.
*”pop,” for my US friends, is what you call “soda” in the US, or “cokes” in some of the southern states.
**fake name to protect identity and inevitable punishment from parental units