Back to the basics of art

For the first time, I'm taking an art course to see what I've missed - if anything - and to learn technique. Actually, painting entered my life in a big way four years ago, following a career as a columnist and freelance writer for various newspapers, when my son gave me some paint tubes and two brushes.

"Here - paint," he told me and I haven't look back since. Think I already shared this but it bears repeating because my introduction to my painting muse has changed my life immensly.

Whatever I've learned so far has been from experience, which in my opinion is a great teacher. My first painting, a still life, is hanging in my bedroom. Although it was very basic, the thrill of actually seeing an image that I created on a canvas is something that never ceases to amaze me. There has always been a feeling that something is missing within my art sphere. For example, my psychological dilemma when faced with a large canvas irks me, in addition to some other hang-ups. It's for this reason that painting course seems like a good idea. Let me share, for the record, that I've formed some very strong feelings when it comes to personal style if not technique.

To date and after one lesson, I've picked up a few simple and basic things that will definitely help me. Not too crazy over the instructor since she is very inflexible and regimented but I'll give it a chance. Maybe. Depending on her attitude and whether we can find a common ground.

Meanwhile, I'm painting on my own and feel that I'm growing as an artist. In the end, that's what's important. Meanwhile, I'll be posting/sharing my new paintings in a few weeks.

The easel has an empty space where a painting once sat

"My painting has gone" (insert guitar twangs)
"It was really all wrong" (insert sobs)
"I knew it all along..."(take long gulps of favorite alcoholic beverage)

Once again as has been the case on previous occasions, there is an empty space on the easel. A week ago the space was filled with a canvas that showed promise. Key word here is "promise."

It was one of my larger canvases and perhaps in retrospect, this reality was an omen that things could and most likely would, go awry. One of my recent art supply purchases was thickening paste, which is used as the name implies, to thicken paint. Having experienced fulfillment in the creation of black-and-white tree paintings in the past, I attempted to repeat my success. Not a good idea.

Using the thickening paste and palette knife, a bare black tree was applied to the right side of the canvas. The tree, actually, came out really well but things deteriorated when a whole lot more trees were added. Why? Really can't provide any logical answer except that I'm big on trees. Usually, trees turn out well but these were supposed to be spruce trees, most of which looked anything like spruces. The end result was black, short, curved sticks jutting out of a thick-ish stem. There were many canvas white-outs that followed but the use of palette knives, resulted in former images showing through in which white paint couldn't or wouldn't cover.

Having to part with canvases that showed promise is never easy for an artist. The feeling is similar to having to send off plays in the hope of production, but at least there's always hope of a positive outcome. Rather than share the end result with inquisitive eyes who might spot the canvas in the trash heap, the painting was discarded after wrapping it in a thick plastic bag and placed beneath some discarded cardboard. One shares only one's successes - not failures.

Thing is - in my mind, it was a magical winter scene in white/black/silver. The tree was so real, you could feel the texture of the bark and this aspect was realized. Where it went wrong was when I added the grove. In retrospect, it could have and should have stopped at that one tree and a frozen riverlet or at least trees off in the distance. Succeeding in winter scenes  has always eluded me.

So now I'm back working on smaller canvases - at least for a while. Need some perspective. Just finished a landscape with my palette knives. The end result if really beautiful. I'm also working on another landscape. which is moving in the right direction (so far) and things look promising. Then again, a promise doesn't guarantee success. There's many a side step in creating the perfect image. Don't I know it.

Art knows no age limitation

Always amazes me how many people seem to discover and explore latent artistic ability as they near or are in retirement. Just came back from an art exhibition at a local seniors centre where two floors of rooms were devoted to a plethora of art mediums.

As expected there was a large representation of all the traditional forms of painting ranging from acylics, oil paint, watercolors, mixed media created by members of the seniors centre and an intricate display of what appeared to be Japanese art embroidery. Very beautiful delicate and definitely an art that would test the patience of the doer. Not for me but "wow!" inspiring to the eye.

Mixed in with the paintings were wood carvings of animals, houses...you name it, chances are it was carved beautifully with precision. This is a craft that requires patience but most of all, talent, which the carvers seemed to have in abundance.

Having spent an entire morning working on my black/grey/white tree/landscape painting, it was inspiring to see the work of so many artists. Not that it will help in the end. Re-did the trees over (again) and although there is some progress, not sure when if ever I will experience that inner "click" that indicates a finished painting. Also started another small landscape painting using palette knives. Love those palette knives when they don't cut through the surface of the canvas. Wonder if Van Gough or Monet had the same problem. I like to think so. Misery likes company.

Here's an article (in French only unfortunately) that focuses on the show: http://www.courrierlaval.com/Soci%C3%A9t%C3%A9/Vie%20communautaire/2011-12-08/article-2828748/Septieme-exposition-Place-aux-Arts-a-la-Place-des-Aines/1