The Painting Spectrum - Clean Slate, Clean Palette

   It was another whirlwind week filled with voting (and that whole tense situation), making a trip to see my dentist, and a road trip to Massachusetts for a Veterans Day ceremony - and somewhere in all that I managed to finish another oil spill inspired painting. Part of my painting process is to maintain, to the best of my ability, an even emotional keel. My mantra is a desire to paint beauty. Beauty comes in many shapes, forms, and colors. My palette is a rainbow - one mindset I embrace is, if I can begin with happiness, I shall end with happiness.

    This is one reason why for this campaign season (marathon?), I shut off the television and blocked all political posts from my Facebook feed. I stayed informed enough for my comfort level, but that was my personal boundary. This past week however, a heaviness still weighed the atmosphere. By Wednesday morning, it seemed almost all of America had a massive political hangover. I had to strictly regiment my time this past week to avoid negativity at all costs. This meant no media at all; radio, newspaper, TV, and the Internet. My husband burned a massive stack of new CD's, so that is what played almost all week. This is part of my creative process. I need a "clean slate and clean palette" emotionally and mentally in order to paint or I won't be able to focus on my work.

   By midweek, I made my dentist appointment for a routine cleaning. In the hygienist's office, there was a cute stuffed purple dragon in the corner. He had green horns, a purple body, and big red dots on his face. He also had a set of false teeth and was holding an oversized toothbrush.  
"The kids call him Fuzzy," Alice told me as she scraped my teeth. I felt great after I left the dentist and went home to paint.

   One of the first order of operations was to remove the old palette sheet as the last remaining oil paint had dried up and replace it with a new one. On went the rainbow of new color - yellow, orange, red, green, blue and purple. Beginning with yellow, I laid in the design of the oil drip / spill I was going to paint. The other colors followed and their placement was wherever they felt "right" to me. After a few hours, I was satisfied with the finished work and called it done. I set it aside to let the paint start its drying process. As I stepped back, I could have sworn I saw Fuzzy, that happy purple dragon, in my painting... minus the false teeth and toothbrush of course.

   Friday morning came early, but I was blessed with a beautiful sunrise. A short while later, my husband and I embarked on the 3 1/2 hour trek to central Massachusetts. One positive aspect about our trip through Maine and New Hampshire, were no school buses and the road construction workers had the day off. Not so in Massachusetts - we were held up twice by construction (read: huge traffic jams) and arrived with only a 20 minute window to spare before the ceremony started. We were greeted by other family members and made decisions on who was doing what and where we were all sitting. As humans, I guess we all need some sort of "process" regardless of the situation.

   The ceremony was solemn but beautiful. There were the presentations of colors, veterans marching in, speeches (very short ones, thank God) made by local, state, and national (senate) officials. Afterward, there was the presentation of medals, certificates of appreciation, and a commemoration letter written by the President of the United States to over 120 Vietnam veterans. My brother and I accepted the honors in behalf of my deceased father. The ceremony closed with the singing of a few military favorites, the presentation of wreaths, and the playing of taps for all deceased soldiers.

   Even with the massive crowd of almost 1,000 people, we manged to snap some family photos and were interviewed by two local newspaper reporters. One of the questions asked of my mother was how her late husband handled his return home. She told them he didn't talk about it much. The Vietnam war was filled with controversy. There were years of protests and many veterans did not receive a warm welcome home nor the recognition they deserved. My father and my family just did the best they could. It's possible that my father didn't talk about the conflict that much because he wanted to start over with a "clean slate and clean palette" with his young family. It's a shame that it's taken this country 50 years to honor these veterans in some formal way. However, even though it took a half a century, I'm grateful.

   Most of my extended family joined us for a late lunch after the ceremony commenced. While waiting for our table at the restaurant we went to, there was another veteran who struck up a conversation with us. He thanked my father for his service. He didn't know me, my mother, or anyone else. However, there is a common thread of being human. We can all get along despite our opinions and differences. Because of this conversation with this stranger, I came away with a sense of pride, hope, and faith... in all of us. Maybe this is another example of a "clean slate" we all need to move forward in our lives.

Until next time,
The Happy Painter,
Jill

The Painting Spectrum - Flights Of Fancy

   This past week have been seven days of "priming the pump". This historical term came from a time when people used to have manual wells where they would have to pour a certain amount of water into the well first before it would operate properly. Once water was poured into the system, the well would pump more out to be gotten.

   My "priming the pump" task was when I put the gesso to six canvases this week. The entire process took just over an hour and then drying time used up a few more. Ironically, this process used to fill me with fear. The thought of "...what do I paint?" used to encompass my mind. The process of letting that fear go was even easier this time as I know it will be another form of oil spill inspired abstract. I do still wonder, however, where my process will take me though...

   I'll use the following as an example; I saw a young boy who was approximately 2-3 years old with his mother out at our local boardwalk one afternoon. As I walked, prior to meeting them, I noticed milkweed pods opened and seeds were everywhere. There was also a gentle breeze. As I came around the corner, I saw the boy stomping around, doing an odd dance - then stopping, smiling, and laughing - and then began doing the same ritual all over again. When I got closer, I saw other milkweed pods that had been opened and little seeds floating near him. He was totally enthralled in their flight. I smiled. It was good.

   There's so much that I've come to "know" as an adult. But how often do I just stop and wonder about life? Or about the simple things like floating milkweed seeds? I'm currently reading a spiritual book entitled, "One Day My Soul Just Opened Up". There is one essay on creativity that blew my mind. It stated that a power greater than ourselves (whom I choose to call God), "... infuses us with the power to conceive, express, and enjoy our creative power. We create through thought, word, and deed."

   Our expectations are self-fulfilling. Start each day by seeing it the way you would want it to be. See yourself moving through the day with a smile on your face and joy in your heart. I can do the same with my painting and creative process. I start this self-fulfillment with "priming my pump". I have to continue this process, via painting, as I want to see my finished work. Usually, I have just a concept, not an exact detailed vision, so my painting can go with the flow. I can paint without fear.

   Another example came from my husband. He shared a story with me of a couple in their 90's who are regular customers at the auto repair shop where he works. They got back about a week or two ago from a 2400 mile round trip to Nova Scotia. They were good health (as far as 90+ year old's go) and have zero fear of traveling. I can take this same creativity process beyond my painting and into my everyday life. I can imagine a larger studio to solve my current space problem. I can imagine more gallery or even museum exhibits and my works selling for more money. And why not?

   My goal is this, and while it does include being an artist, it goes beyond that. That all my fears of people, places, and things would dissolve as I courageously move through life conquering one fear after another. Life (and painting) is meant to be lived and enjoyed! May I be like that couple in their 90's and still filled with the wonder of a 2-3 year old.

   Until next time,
   The creative painter,
   Jill

Halloween Art... Or Sticking With What You Know

   Part of any creative process is searching for ideas. In my experience, it doesn't matter if that idea comes from Mother Nature and the great outdoors, or a picture I see in a magazine or on someone's wall in their home, or on my computer. Since it was Halloween weekend, I took a break from painting to participate in some "spooky" events our friends had planned. This past Friday evening, my husband Dave and I were searching computer images for pumpkin carving ideas and stencils / templates. We found the number of categories to be almost overwhelming. Disney, scary, whimsical, x-rated, and highly unusual were just to name a few.

   Since my husband is a car buff, his first choice was a classic VW bus, but unfortunately he wouldn't have enough time to fully finish the carving given the time frame we had this past Saturday afternoon. He settled on the Cheshire Cat from Alice In Wonderland. This was a good second choice since the pumpkin he was carving came from our youngest daughter who just happens to love cats and VW buses.

   I scrolled on and on through well over 500 images of ghosts, cats, skulls, and who knows what else. I finally spotted one I really liked - a Tigger face. I had a small pumpkin to work with, so I needed a simple design. Dave printed out our templates and I traced the shapes onto our pumpkins with a Sharpie. We stopped at a local big-box store and purchased a pumpkin carving kit while on the way to a good friends house for her annual pumpkin carving party.

   We were one of the first guests to arrive, chose our seating, and were given two large bowls; one for the seeds and one for the guts. Our hostess told us to help ourselves to some of the festive goodies she had put out. Dave and I also grabbed cups of coffee, sat down, and began carving in earnest.

   Following some type of pumpkin carving protocol, I began at the top of the pumpkin with a large knife to cut the customary hole where the stem was. I began scooping out the seeds and guts with a large tablespoon as the hole was quite small. The regular scraper would not fit and neither would my hand. While scooping to the best of my ability, I noticed a growth (probably where a stem would have been), in the center of my pumpkin. I just kept working around it, because to me, it was no big deal.

   Over the next 90 minutes, I used various carving tools making my design. During this time, at least a dozen other guests arrived and filled the other tables in the large living room. Despite everyone's best efforts, seeds and guts ended up in other places besides the bowls. But hey, I figured, this is another art form taking place. Sometimes art is messy.

   Comments galore could be heard; everything from "Gooey", to "Yuck... slimy", to "This is so gross." In the end, I had a good facsimile of Tigger. Everyone guessed at what the design was, and they arrived at the correct answer on their first try. I was pleased. Others, including my husband, installed a candle in their creation and pictures were taken. It was at this juncture where events took a turn for the weird.

   "Aren't you going to put a candle in your pumpkin?" the hostess asked me.
   "I can't. There's a growth in the center of my pumpkin." I replied sheepishly.
   "Let me see." She looked and was stunned. "Oh my God, it's got a pumpkin penis."
 
   Everyone at the party put all carving on hold and came over to gaze at my unusual freak of Nature. One lady suggested I should take a knife and just cut it off. Of course, I couldn't - the center hole was too small. Another gentleman quipped that my pumpkin was "one happy Tigger."

   What started as a family event turned into a PG-13 carving party with lots more male anatomy jokes and humor. For a brief moment I was a little embarrassed, but it was what it was - a go with the flow moment in the journey of life.

   From now on, however, I'm leaving sculpting alone and sticking with my oil painting!
   Until next time,
   The CONFIRMED Painter,
   Jill

The Painting Spectrum - Art For Art's Sake

   There is a great deal going on in the world today - I know I don't need to tell you that. We'll probably agree that people are preoccupied with making a living - or better yet - a survival. We feel we have little or no time available to just live, be, or explore. We sometimes believe that if we don't work 50-70 hours per week, we will go hungry, be poor, and homeless.

   Whether you believe in this concept or not, that trusting the Divine to provide for all of our needs, seems to go untested. If I truly believed in the Divine's love for me, I would have no problem of putting this principle into practice.

   For a number of years, I had a full time job while trying to "work" or "jump-start" my art. I almost went insane on the treadmill of my "regular" career. I ended up pushing and hurting myself physically and mentally to do all that was expected of me, which was an invisible bar I could never reach. In the end, I realized that no matter how hard or much I worked, it was never enough. The sad part was, I put so much effort into a job I was never made to do.

   Up until approximately seven years ago, I never had the time to devote to what I should be doing in regards to my art, or even attempting to take it seriously. No matter how much I planned, wished, or otherwise, something else from my previous career always popped up. Now, since I'm pursuing my art full time, it seems the Divine has opened the doors - other artists are being put into my path, opportunities are presenting themselves, and things seem to be moving forward.

   For example, I met a fellow artist named Dan last week, who was out painting on our town's Main Street. It was a beautiful sunny day, but also breezy, as he had his tripod weighed down with a rather large backpack full of extra supplies. We chatted - well okay - I did most of the talking. I was a little excited to see another one of our "tribe". I shared on my experience of outdoor painting - how the sea breeze came along and I got wet canvases blown onto me or onto the grass.
"That's why mine is weighted down," he interjected.
"I don't paint outdoors anymore - I've gone totally abstract," I continued.
"Well, there are abstract shapes in reality," he protested slightly as he added a lime green rectangle to a doorpost.
"Do you show anywhere?" I asked.
"Up and down the coast at foundations. They have juried shows. The foundation shows don't require so many pieces of your work, like galleries. You only need one piece and it gets a good deal of foot traffic," he added.
"I didn't know that - thanks. My husband and I are showing in two galleries next summer and we have a great deal of work to do. Lots of framing. They require about 25-30 pieces. I look into it. Thanks again," I said as I turned and left him to concentrate on his work.

The second artist, Jessie, I ran into that same evening. She is a new friend I met at church. She was ecstatic as she mentioned that she sold five paintings over the past two weeks. She is currently in a gallery further south down the coast in Damariscotta, and she has her own studio as well. We started discussing various topics of what we paint, sales, marketing, and more.

This week has had some down time from painting as I was waiting for more Gesso to arrive that I ordered on-line. The local art shops only seem to carry pints or quarts and they are always out of stock. I thought about cracking open the gallon bucket I received, but then realized I had to move some of my paintings that were drying in our main hallway (the joys of painting on large canvases in a small studio - sometimes I just run out of space). We have new appliances arriving on Monday and EVERYTHING needs to be out of this hallway in order to get to the kitchen. So, no - I'm not going to make more work for myself.

   What I am doing is writing more and reading about spirituality. I must admit, I am grateful for the camaraderie of other artists in my life.

Until next time,
The Happy Abstract Painter,
Jill

The Painting Spectrum - The 2nd Time Is The Charm

   I worked large this week... on two 24x30 inch works that were started on 1/4" Masonite board. Actually, a more appropriate term would be, "Started, finished, started again". I thought I had these works completed, (more in my oil spill influenced series), but it was afterwards that brought on the change. Over the period of a week, I kept looking at them - and dwelling over them. It seemed the more I looked, the more I saw, and the more I didn't like. One of them, I originally entitled "Orgasm". In this painting, I did in fact see a naked woman, sexual energy, and bright colors. But the more I showed it, several of my friends were pulling other people and images out of the painting as well. I started getting a little freaked out.

At times, it's not easy being an artist, as our own imaginations can get the best of us. I also realize that one of the realities with abstracts is that different people will see different things. However, I ultimately am the one who created it and has to live with it. So, this past week, I put my big girl panties on and decided to either modify or completely paint over two paintings, including this one. I used the same technique as in previous sessions when I painted the rose as well as other works. I ended up with more of a 3-D effect and the naked lady (as well as all other personnel) disappeared. Now, I have what resembles a forest in a canyon or a waterfall in the woods, and a tidal pool. At least this is what I see...

Like the paintings before, I just show up at the canvas or board, prepared to be inspired. I work my method and creative process, so therefore I am not surprised that no two paintings look alike. From quilts, to floral works, to oil spills, the results continue to amaze me. And that's a good thing.

My husband has finished my new website (JillLangdon.com), and we have applied for showings in Tenants Harbor and Camden next summer and fall. These will be joint shows - a first for us. While I am excited about showing and my new paintings, there is always the basic nut-and-bolt work of getting more frames, advertising, marketing, receptions, and so on. Even with all this readiness, I am thrilled to show publicly what I been slaving over.

I was born to paint and someday the entire world will be seeing or using products designed with my works. And it will happen before I'm dead. Some say this is a dream or I can't be certain. However, if I don't put that affirmation out to the cosmos, it has zero chance of happening. Especially if I don't believe it. Time takes time; or as my husband always tells me, "You gotta have more patience..."

Until next time,
The Happy Abstract Painter,
Jill

                     After

                    Before

                  The 2nd work

The Painting Spectrum - To Infinity & Beyond

   This past week, though emotionally trying for me on the personal front, was highly productive on the painting front! It was a week of adding small details, justifying that certain paintings are indeed finished, and tackling in-process paintings with new ideas and concepts.

   On Monday, I applied a second coat on five different oil paintings, all from my second oil spill series. I added contrast to some, others were darkened, still others received more vibrant colors. I was fairly satisfied with the outcome on all five - enough to say "finished".

   The following day, I took a long hard look at two floral paintings, (one being a large 30x40 inch work) I had started last week and then had to put them aside, to not only let some of the paint dry, but also because I felt they were both flat... lifeless. I have a certain creative process in regards to my oil spill series - I turn the canvas upside down and then paint from right to left. I thought I would apply this same process to the smaller of the two floral paintings and see what I could come up with. I also added color, lines, and small waves to the work, very similar to the oil spill paintings I've done over the past 2-3 weeks. After a few hours, I stepped back and it seemed the painting came to life. I was blown away!

   Feeling confident, I put the first painting aside to dry some more and stepped up to the larger canvas that had a large rose in the center. It, too, got the "oil spill" treatment. The end result, however, was different than the first painting. Because of its size, distance viewing mattered a great deal. Up close, one can still see the rose, but the additional colors and lines seem a little scattered. However, from a distance of say 15 feet, the painting actually looks three dimensional. To make sure I wasn't getting delusional from all my painting, I asked a friend over to view the paintings, but mainly to see the rose. At first, she looked at it from about five feet away, then approximately 15-20 feet away. Her only comment was, "Holy crap - you're right! It's like magic! I love it!"

   Less than 24 hours later, one would think I would be riding high and eager to paint, but that wasn't the case. I'm unsure if it was a lack of energy, or crash-and-burn type thinking, but I just couldn't get motivated to go into the studio. I even wallowed in the thought that all my successes had come the day before and how on Earth am I going to top my large 3-D rose painting? I called it a day by early afternoon. Thursday is always my day off - my husband and soul mate has a half-day at work and we spend the afternoon together, which at this point, was very beneficial for me.

   Friday rolled around, and after taking two walks and connecting with other female artists to finally clear my head, I picked up the paintbrush again. The first painting I approached was inspired by a glass sculpture that was outside a Mexican restaurant that my husband and I dined at back in September. The glass was arranged in a circular way, that when you looked at it from above, the design looked like it go on forever into infinity. My first rendition of that inspiration was so off the mark, I abandoned the work for about a month. With great trepidation, I took that same work up, turned the canvas upside down, and "oil spilled" it from right to left.

   When I felt I was done, I moved the easel about five feet away, walk over to a comfy old sofa I have in the studio, and said, "Dear God - let me see the beauty of this painting." Then I opened my eyes. Lo and behold, I not only saw beauty in this work, but new patterns, designs, color combinations, and numerous other possibilities that just weren't there before. I was so moved by this painting, as have others, that it will grace my newest batch of business cards, my website, as well as my Facebook page.

   Speaking of websites, my new website, JillLangdon.com, is finally finished. Please check it out and bookmark it as more works will be added to the "Gallery" section and you can stay up to date with showings, classes, etc.

Until next time, I'm going to infinity and beyond,
Jill

                   Infinity copyright 2016 Jill Langdon

                   Rose copyright 2016 Jill Langdon

The Painting Spectrum; What's In A Name?

Lots of art news this week - the new website is under construction and about half done. With the help of my husband Dave, the newer and simpler website should be a reality in about a week. The other news is I will be displaying, for the first time ever, in a joint showing with Dave next summer in Tenants Harbor Maine. It will take place at the newly built Jackson Memorial Library's art gallery. When we drove down the peninsula to meet with the exhibition coordinator, I was amazed at how much space they have dedicated to art work. Some local galleries aren't even this big - label me impressed!

Then reality hit me; especially when the coordinator said, "We'll need about 25-30 pieces." At first I panicked. How on Earth am I going to put together that many pieces, framed and ready to go, within nine months? It doesn't sound like much, but the task is more daunting than most people realize, especially when my husband and I also work and we do our own framing. I breathed a little easier when I remembered I'm sharing this showing with my husband, so I'll only need 12-15 pieces, but I have to remind Dave, "Hey - don't get behind the 8-ball in framing your half of the art show!"

I was also pleased that there was room for larger works, (24x30 inches and up). I was ecstatic about this possibility until I got home - I have done several paintings in this size lately and now I can't decide which one to hang there. One of my recent works has gone through the gamut of names since it was finished about 10 days ago. At first, I named it "Orgasm". Seriously. But I realize I may have to re-title this work, even if only for this show, because the art (and titles) must be suitable for all ages. I looked at the painting closer and saw what looked like several mushrooms. However, when I turned the work upside down, it resembled one or more lilies.

That evening, my hubby Dave and I got into a discussion about art in general. When we were at the library in Tenants Harbor, there were lots of works on display. No offense to those artists, and with all due respect, but almost all the paintings could be grouped into a few categories; mainly floral, landscapes, and nautical. The library coordinator said she was looking for art that didn't fit this genre - she wanted something different... really different. She wanted diversity.

Dave and I agree that numerous artists paint representational or realistic objects and then title the work what it represents. While the art may be easily recognizable and identifiable, there is no imagination required. Abstracts however, and my series inspired by oil spills, represent what I might see, but I can inject a great deal of color, line, and movement, so not only is it pleasing and intriguing, but also thought provoking and engaging.

When it came to titles, that's where our opinions (or at least the thought process) parted ways. I was content to title my works "Oil Spill #1", then "Oil Spill #2", etc., on and on down the line. Dave commented, "...that's not very original. In my opinion, it's sort of a cop-out; like "Untitled". When I see "Untitled", I feel the artist doesn't even know what the finished work is or what it stands for. It doesn't allow the viewer to see what they are drawn to, what they might see, or what they might think it is. If you put an obvious or commanding title to an abstract, the viewer becomes less engaged." Then he suggested, "Why don't you title them, "What would title this painting?" That would be cool."

I thought about his concept for a few minutes, but logistically that wouldn't work. I have to catalog all my paintings in my computer and one of the requirements of the show is to title all works to be able to identify it. I thought we would be breaking the customs of the art community. Dave quipped, "Isn't that what art is all about? Breaking rules; pushing limits? Dare to be different?"

What do you say? To title or not to title?

Until next time,
Jill