Monday, May 17, 2010
Yesterday's watercolor was so bad, it sent me back to my easel and acrylics and Summer Shade, the 36 x 36 painting I started before vacation. I wanted the assurance of a "loaded" brush and firm support. I painted as I long as I could stand, turn, back up, go forward, and bend down. My Ipod was silent; no dancing first day back in the studio. As I squeezed the last glob of white from the tube and then found my pantry bare, I realized I had forgotten to restock Titanium and matte medium, the liquid that extends the paint. What a boob. With the tube empty, my session was over. I came upstairs and iced.
Last Sunday I iced all evening; in the afternoon, Honey and I walked an art fair. I loved seeing what others were doing. Knee conscious, We didn't see the whole show, but from what I did see, there weren't a lot of paintings. The majority of booths were pottery, baskets and jewelry--at least on the main drag.
There was one booth I did notice where the artist's work wasn't decorative; it was literary and definitely self expressive. The style was unique. I would have liked to have stopped, checked it out close up and chatted, but we ran into friends and went for coffee. My loss: I think I spotted an art for art sake painter, a rare bird at these affairs whose work I always remember when I get home.