by Susan Lobb Porter | Art |
Last week I promised a painting would be finished. The contrived kitty would morph into something...else… with da muse.
Here it is, the contrived kitty. Gag me…playing safe. Being coy. Aarugh…da muse was not impressed.
So I dove right in. Took a plunge off the deep end, paintbrush in hand. Holy crap! The creative waters were COLD! Cold enough to take my breath away.But when I came up for air…oh man, it felt sooooooo good. So good I said (without consulting with da muse), Hey everyone! Look at me, yoo-hoo…over here. I’m on fire! And I’m gonna have this baby done by Wednesday. Hold. Me. To. It.
Promises are not a good idea when it comes to predicting the creative process. As soon as da muse heard the dreaded P word she curled up with some chocolates and a good book and told me I was on my own.
Which was fine by me. I was on fire, right?
Umm…no. I was so NOT on fire, I even began cleaning the house.
And then a discussion began in my Random Acts of Art Facebook group. The group that morphed from the RAA Wednesdays blog hop. It’s a happening bunch of creatives, let me tell you. In 10 days it’s grown to 192 people from around the world, every one of them hiding little pieces of art in public. Come on over and join the party.
But I digress…the discussion evolved around signing or not signing our names on the art we leave out and about. As I’ve explained to the group, there’s no right or wrong answer to this. It’s a personal decision. For the record, I don’t sign mine. I’m releasing something I made out into the world with NO expectations for the outcome.
Just letting it go.
Today I decided to jump start da muse by applying that same philosophy to the creating process. Just. Let. It. Go.
Ohhhhh…she liked that! Especially when helped along with Springsteen and Paul Simon.
So here’s where Catholic Girls Wear Plaid is now. Still not finished. And most definitely a crappy photo alert. I don’t know why the black is so washed out. But you can get an idea of where it’s heading.
Maybe I’ll get around to finishing this week. But I know better than to make a promise. Till then, my sweetums…may your days be filled with peace, love and chocolate!
by Susan Lobb Porter | Art, Family, Life |
FirstBorn and family came a visitin’ last week. They stayed in the cottage where Mama lived until she died last spring, repurposed now as my studio. Before they arrived I moved everything that could remotely endanger a two year old to the back rooms where I make art. Including Studio Quat and her kitty needs.
She’s an old kitty. I’m sure the peace and quiet of her bed on my worktable was preferable to the attentions of the granddaughter and granddogger. Both of whom are rambunctious, one of whom is rather large.
Then I got those baby proof things that fit over the doorknobs. The ones you have to squeeze a certain way to open the door. Studio Quat was ever so grateful, kitty privacy guaranteed.
I haven’t had the heart to get rid of Mama’s furniture yet so the kids had all the comforts of home. Comfy furniture. Satellite TV. Complete kitchen and laundry. Most of all they had their own place to get away to. Perfect arrangement for family harmony.
But next Christmas someone else will be living in the cottage. Because I came to the conclusion last month that Studio Grande is too valuable as an income property to be trashed as an art studio. Something Mr. Spouse had been pushing for ever since Mama died but I couldn’t see the big picture. It had been my studio before she lived there and I wanted to reclaim it now that she was gone.
I wanted my dreams.
And I wasn’t ready to have someone else living in Mama’s house.
Then one day in late November the universe whacked me upside the head. AHA! Just like that. Clarity. I could design a studio just the way I want it. A wall of windows to the south. Skylights to the north. A vent fan with a hood. Countertops, storage, a layout that works for me. I could pay for the materials with my inheritance and Mr. Spouse would have a project to keep him busy.
He didn’t waste any time. We got the slab poured last week. And once it’s finished and I’m moved in we can rent out the cottage. Rent out Mama’s house.
I’m okay with that now.
After the kids left this morning I went down to reclaim my space. They cleaned up after themselves before they left. Sheets and towels were in the laundry. Dishwasher loaded. Kitchen counter tidied up. Perfect guests.
And then I looked at the counter and saw something was missing. I searched the cabinets and the drawers but it was gone. No doubt thrown out with the trash. Of course, why not–to them it was only another bottle cap.
But it was much more than that to me. I found it on Mama’s patio a few days after her service last April. After the patio had been swept clean and tidied up from the reception where we’d toasted her memory with beer and dark chocolate. Her two favorite food groups. I’d been visiting the oak grove where we buried her ashes and when I walked past the patio I saw it sitting there in plain sight…a bottle cap. One that I swear hadn’t been there before. I bent down to pick it up and almost cried when I saw the words printed inside…Ola Life!
Overlooked trash? A message from my mother? Or something planted by a well meaning friend…who can say? It brought me comfort. I’d left it in a special place on her kitchen counter and looked at it from time to time. Because it made me feel good.
And now it’s gone…
But you know what–I’m alright with that. Like the cottage studio it served its purpose. This is a new year…and it’s time to let go and move on.
by Susan Lobb Porter | Art, Arty Inspiration, Everyday Ordinary, Photography |
Inspiration strikes everywhere. Anytime. That’s why I always try to carry my camera around. Because you KNOW the one time I leave it home I miss the PERFECT shot.
Unfortunately that happens more often than I care to admit. But I’m getting better.
I live in a picturesque old gold mining town. Lots of interesting textures and buildings to photograph. But as I said up above, inspiration can come any time, anywhere. Including the sidewalk in front of a strip mall.
I look at this stuff and get so excited. Makes me want to run down to the studio and paint. The paintings will likely look nothing like the photos because that’s not what this is about. They’re for inspiration…. Color. Texture. Design. Proportion. Or all of the above. Layers and layers of oils and wax building up to the final piece.
Mystery. Depth.
That’s what makes it so exciting. That’s what makes it worth stopping traffic on the sidewalk while I whip out my camera and take pictures of the cracks.
by Susan Lobb Porter | Art, Kids |
When my kids were little they were not allowed to use the ‘B’ word. I’m assuming you’re all grown ups and will not be terribly offended if I say it in print. If you have fair sensibilities consider this a warning–cover your eyes or skip down to the pictures.
The word in question…the gasp! cover your mouth WHAT DID YOU SAY!!!! word…was (and still is) B.O.R.E.D. As in, I’m bored. As in I’m SO bored. As in…well, you get the picture.
I would tell these brilliant little humans there was SO much in this world to do, see, think about. Adventures to make up. Things to build. Really, who had time to be bored? And they would go off and write stories. Or draw pictures. Or pound nails into a couple pieces of wood and call it a shelf.
They didn’t start with the eye rolls and the exasperated sighs until the hormones kicked in. But that’s another story.
And this is where you, dear readers, enter the picture. Let’s say you’re one of my students. Let’s say you’re desperate for inspiration. Your muse is misbehaving, filling your head with all sorts of nonsense, making you feel badly about all things art. You’re uninspired. Stuck. Quite frankly, you’re bored. You come to my class and tell me you can’t paint. And you’ll never ever be an artist because you don’t know what to paint.
And I will tell you that you are a brilliant human being. I will give you a hug. Maybe two. Then I will point to the sign that says No Whining, hand you a camera and send you outside.
With one rule. The big picture is overwhelming. Really. Your creative mind is spinning like a kid with a couple of Cokes under his belt in Toys R Us. Overstimulated. So my answer to that is tune out the distractions, tune out the BIG picture and F.O.C.U.S. Don’t go far. Don’t get distracted by the meadow. Or the horses. Stay on the walkway and focus on an area no larger than a foot square. Look for patterns in the concrete or the rocks.
Like this. See, that was easy now, wasn’t it? Oh, wait…are you saying that’s just a couple of rocks? Well yes, it is. Three, actually. And some moss. And not even a great composition. That’s because you’re looking at the BIG picture.
Look what a little cropping can do. Squint. Nice colors, eh? Compositions isn’t bad either. Imagine this with layers and layers of glazes. Imagine working the surface, scraping and painting and bringing forth all sorts of yummy texture.
Some rotation for a different look. The point is any one of these could stand on it’s on as a painting. They could also be used as background for other images. Put some blue on the upper half and call it a landscape.
Cropping another area of the original photo. Squint. See the arrow? Half an arrow. This could be a total graphic kind of painting. There are any number of possibilities. Hey, I did a post about this not long ago using the hair on my dog’s head. Really, there’s NO excuse.
So next time you’re stuck, take a deep breath and tell yourself what a BRILLIANT human being you are. In fact, do that a couple of times. Say it loudly until you believe it. Jump up and down a few times while you’re at it. Then open your eyes, look around and get painting.
By the way, you’re welcome to use any of these photos if they inspire you. And if they do, send me a picture. I’d love to share them on the blog.
by Susan Lobb Porter | Arty Inspiration, Everyday Ordinary, Photography |
Today I took a walk. All by myself. Imagine that–all by myself! No husband, no friends, no dogs. Nobody tugging me in another direction. Nobody getting bored or impatient while I stooped to examine interesting things. Nobody peeing on every corner. Just me.
And my camera. Canon Power Shot. Nice little thing–small enough to fit in my purse or pocket but with enough bells and whistles to make a pro happy.
I’m not a pro so it makes me very happy. I just disable the flash and let the camera do the rest. Because I’m not looking for great photos…I’m looking for inspiration for my next paintings. Texture. Composition. The undefinable something that passes the squint test.
And I found it in downtown Nevada City, which is neither in Nevada nor a city, just an old gold mining town in the Sierra foothills. The gold rush era buildings ooze yummy–I’m talkin’ YUMMY–texture.
Old funky sheet metal and older, funkier concrete…it’s enough to make a girl swoon, I’m tellin’ you, pass out with the delight.
And then there’s just plain old metal on metal. Not that there’s anything plain about this. It’s just begging me to create its likeness in wax.
Rust. Wood. Sheet metal. Stone.
These will keep me busy in the studio this weekend. They’re for reference only, a jumping off point for plaster and wax. If history is any indication, the final results will look nothing like the original.
I’ll post before and after pics, maybe some during the process. Look for them in the next few days.
