by Susan Lobb Porter | Art, Process, Work in Progress |
Woot! Had some quality PLAY time in the studio today. A landscape was calling my name.
Or maybe it was calling me names, I dunno. I had my R&B list playing and this is what happened.
work in progress Susan Lobb Porter
Not a bad painting I guess. But not terribly exciting either. Ho-hum. Yawn. BTW, I think the photo is a bit heavy with the yellow. Can’t say for sure because once I got this far I decided the R&B was too…safe for the mood I was in. Which was (drum roll) a badass paintin’ mood.
AKA, a GREAT mood. Seriously, there is NOTHING better that a badass painting mood. Nothing. And if you’ve been reading this blog for any length of time (and I sincerely hope you have) you’ll know that a great painting mood (GPM) calls for high octane rock. Da Boss. Loud.
And adventure. All GPMs call for risk taking. So while Da Boss was blasting working class angst and the speakers were positively vibrating with passion, I took the tube of white and squeezed it directly in the middle of the sky. And then I took my hands, one of which is pictured above, and smooshed that paint all over with my fingers.
Note to self: Next time wear gloves. Or barrier cream.
There was No. Going. Back. And I didn’t want to, I was having waaaaaay too much fun.
Valley View, acrylic on canvas. 24 x 24 inches.
2014 Susan Lobb Porter
This is where it stands now. It’s a completely different painting, one that I personally find to be more interesting. Is it done? Maybe. Everything in the studio is fair game. Nothing is ever considered done–or safe–until it belongs to someone else. So there’s a chance you’ll see this one again…with more improvements.
So what do you think? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments below.
And meanwhile, remember this:
As always–
by Susan Lobb Porter | Art |
Got a late start in Studio Grande today. Things to do, none of which (in hindsight) were really necessary.
I believe it’s called procrastination.
I understand why. Been rolling with the oils lately, like second nature. But today it was wax. That was the plan and I was sticking with it. And I did. I started small, a couple of 6″X6″ and one 12″X12″.
But I didn’t follow the plan exactly. In fact, except for the wax part, I didn’t follow it at all.
Instead of using the oils as a base, I began with a blank board. Blank except for some smudges. But smudges were OK because my new found plan was graphite drawing. Except there wasn’t a pencil to be found…in an art studio. Go figure.
Well I probably could’ve found one if I actually looked. But the charcoal was RIGHT THERE. On the counter. It was a sign, I’m telling you, a sign.
I started out with a couple coats of clear wax medium. Then I took some soft charcoal and scribbled a goodly mess. Then a quick fuse. Then I scraped some lines, bringing out the white, covered the whole thing with a couple more coats of medium and did it all again. And again and again and again. A couple layers up I began adding color via pastels and grownup artist crayons. Eventually it developed into a landscape although that was not the plan when first begun. Remember–no plan.
Looks much better up close and personal. Much. You’ll have to trust me on this. This one is close to finished but not quite there.
I got a couple more little ones going but no photos. Maybe tomorrow. Then I started on a 12X12.
This is the base oil painting. Started with a couple layers of clear wax medium. Then I incised some scribbles, brought them out with a glaze of burnt umber oil paint. Added some pastel. Made a total mess. Fused it. Covered the whole she-bang with a couple more coats of medium. I was really getting into it but oh man, it was getting late. So I decided to stop.
Here. In the dead zone. Artists know what this is. For my non-artist peeps, the dead zone is similar to when your kids are adolescents and you begin to think there’s no hope. You stick with them and eventually they turn out just fine. For dog people–just remember what it’s like when the puppy is five months old.
I think that explains it rather well.
Tomorrow I’ll show the finished piece. I’m looking forward to getting back to it.
