Larger Painting from the Studies

Just getting started, this 40 x 40 painting is going to take some time... I am thinking of using more color in the large painting, not sure whether that will stay that way.

Words in a Painting

I've decided to leave the study I was working as it is and take on another view of that same quote.  I've rarely put words into paintings, other than a vague impression of a sign on a store, so the focus on those words is going to be a new thing for me.  I've taken what I did on the previous painting, and have begun the focus on the words by cropping the image so it's horizontal (as writing is) and cropped closer to so that the words really lead you in and could be as important as the strong lines of the escalators.  I don't really have a roadmap for how to go about this, so I'm thinking a lot about the process.  I do want to end up with the words beliveably etched into the concrete, yet readable.

There's certainly a lot of examples out there of art that's just words or includes words.  I'm not sure that any of them speak to me as I want this painting to work.  Anyway, here's the opening layout of the new painting, where I plan to develop more about the idea of the experience sweet and sad.

The Experience Sweet and Sad

Finally back in the studio this week, I am working on a painting of the Dupont Circle North metro stop, where a quote from Walt Whitman is etched in the concrete.  I've painted the scene before from a different angle, but from here, you see the end of the quote:  "the experience sweet and sad" It seems very fitting to my feelings right now. I've been working on getting the light right and keeping the figures in less resolved.  Might be done.

The full quote, from The Dresser by Walt Whitman, is:

Thus in silence in dreams’ projections, 
Returning, resuming, I thread my way through the hospitals; 
The hurt and wounded I pacify with soothing hand, 
I sit by the restless all the dark night — some are so young; 
Some suffer so much — I recall the experience sweet and sad . . .

Celebrating a return to the studio & Liesel

I am back in the studio after a month off having another knee replacement. I'm glad I only have two knees, two is enough!

Before the surgery, I was at the Tate Britain to see an exhibit of work by Frank Auerbach.  I was struck by how his work is characterized most by the painting and repainting of the same image on a canvas, sometimes layering the paint to inches of thickness, other times scraping and rescraping as the image he wanted emerges.  One result of the repainting is that the work doesn't appear to be overly worked, but each has the boldness and freshness of the last layer of paint applied.

Coming back to the studio, I'm really building up my stamina after the surgery and time off.  I thought I'd get back into painting by mixing up a full palette of paint (no wimpy dabs of color, big tube squeezes and mixes!) and using it to paint the moment at brunch when my family was celebrating the birth of new baby Liesel on a bright sunny day last spring.  The painting isn't done -- I do want to resolve some of the issues in it, but it feels good to be back painting.

Painting about Income Inequality

I received a notice of an upcoming exhibit focusing on income inequality and was thinking I could enter a painting in it.  It wasn't hard to come up with an image, as every day when I come to the studio, I walk through a tunnel that is often a refuge for homeless men.  The tunnel is at the metro, and the contrast between the successful metro riders on their way to and from jobs and the huddled men is striking.  At the tunnel entrance, the space between the haves and have-nots is very small, creating a very intimate setting.

I didn't take any photos, I'm just painting from my memory/imagination.  As it turns out, the actual tunnel isn't a barrel-roof as it is where the actual subway trains are -- but since this is about what I think and feel more than representing what's there, I like the way it works.

Experimenting with Gouache at the Severn River

It felt like a vacation today spending time on a dock at the Severn River.  Tranquil was the perfect word for it.

I'd recently purchased some gouache to see if the opaque watercolor paint would be something I could take on when I travel.  I've painted with watercolor but gouache was new and I wasn't sure how to use it.

My first dabs ended up a lot like watercolor; as I layered paint on and used less water, they became more and more opaque.  I liked the feeling of it, but I didn't have a good red for mixing -- it makes gray or brown or pink, but it's too muddy/opaque to make a good purple or violet.

I got looser as I went along -- I need to keep working on this to see if I can make this work!

Garden Bouquet

I picked these annual flowers in my garden yesterday -- nasturtium, gomphrena (I think people call this globe flower), petunias, salvia -- and put them in a small glass bottle to paint.

I've been really stressed outside the studio and needed to focus on something bright, loose and colorful.

Simplifying Rocks

I painted this small painting of rocks in Maine this summer.  I've been looking at these same rocks for 18 years and while they don't really change -- they're too big and they own their spot on the beach -- the tide rises and falls, the light tracks across them as at the day goes by, seaweed collects in the crevasses, small pebbles catch and pile up, fog rolls in and the rocks can be full of color wet or parched dry in muted gray tones.

In the studio, I took out a larger canvas and decided to make a stronger contrast of the light and shade that happens in the afternoon when the rocks on the east side get very dark.  I still gave them color variation, even in the shade, though in my head, I kept thinking that I needed to removed the details from the shady side.  It's part of what needs to happen to focus the eye where it's supposed to look.


One of my studio mates is working on a very, very detailed painting, the kind of work that's done with a magnifying glass to paint in individual bricks or hairs.  It got me thinking. and today, I took out an even larger canvas and bigger brush to revisit the rock painting idea.   I started with simple black white and gray and lay out the large areas of light and dark.  No details in the deep shade.   I'm going to set it aside for a few days and think about it.

Revisiting Maine Rocks

I painted the small version of this view on the beach in Maine on a hazy day with a yellow sky.  I'd painted it on a small gesso board, which made the paint slip around.

Working in the studio,  I took out a larger canvas to rethink the scene.  I started out with the same chiseled rocks that I'd painted in the smaller painting, but after days of carving them out, I realized that they were too geometric, too dominant as shapes and I needed to think more holistically about the experience of the rock beach.

The larger painting has fewer rocks that appear as individuals, and more of a pattern of light and shade.  The rocks further out on the beach are even more vague, which I think does a better job of conveying the scene.

Summer Painting

I didn't get nearly enough time to paint this summer, but I did have a few moments when things came together.