Snow Day Two: Cancun Matted

I managed to paint twelve watercolors the seventeen days in Mexico; four were worthy of matting. Today, the second day called on account of snow, was a good time to cut those mats and relive our good time.

Blue Umbrellas in The Wind

Beachwalk

Red Carnation

Lilies 

ANTICIPATION

Cancun, Quintana Roo, Mexico 2011. View from The Balcony, watercolor, 9 x 12

This out of character watercolor was the best of last year. I'm  hoping to make another painting like it from another balcony in one of our two favorite hotels on Kukulcan Boulevard  in just four weeks.

six ten I'm out the door with my coffee and down
to sit on the seawall to wait for the sun.

We leave DTW on December 2nd for a two week holiday in Mexico. We'll be back on the 17th. For the first nine days, we'll be at the JW Marriott. For the last five days, we'll be at the Ritz Carlton, two doors down. (We love both  hotels, so we split our time). Do drop in anytime. We'll paint on the beach in plein air and photograph sunrises and sunsets.

I am getting excited. Anticipation is the best part of any trip. The adventure is all in front of you. And it begins with packing and shaping up.

I spent a glorious weekend packing on paper and shopping online The worst was deciding on the bathing suits. I like to take three. I adore swimming. I used to adore bathing suits too; not anymore. My figure is Gone With the Wind thanks to a cancer pill, an arthritis pill, a bum knee, half-hearted exercise and feeling sorry for myself so what-the-hell-I'll- have-potato-chips-with-that.

Then puff-puff clouds and the brilliant promise of a glorious day.

It's not like I don't know what needs doing.  I chose three suits--two black and one I don't-know-why-I-bought-this-thing other than I have a very nice cover up that matches.  I also threw out my beloved chips and scheduled an orthoscopic procedure for when we come home.  My plan is to clean up the knee, get on the bike, spend a little less time sitting on my duff. In Cancun, I am on the move. When I get home I'll be on the move again putting an end to this poor me attitude. It seems anticipation of this holiday has also brought about some New Years resolutions--and I haven't even defrosted the Thanksgiving turkey! Anticipation not only revs you up, it  changes your viewpoint before your plane takes off.

Mum's The Word

First pass, Dying Mums, watercolor, 71/2 x 7 1/2", 2012

With my absentee ballot signed sealed and mailed, mum's the word on who I voted for, and mum's the word for any more political chat from me on this blog. Mum's the word too as my mums are dying in the garden as temperatures cool.

This is a non political work of art UNLESS you really hate mums and have a strong preference for asters as the superior flower of Fall? Above is my first pass, a work in progress.  Below is my last pass, the finished work.  What I'm really doing doing this watercolor is postponing my designing obligations one more day--procrastinating in other words. My cold is gone and it looks like tomorrow I will have to get back to work. I wouldn't be surprised if those pens have clogged up again.

Dying Mums, watercolor, 2012, Final pass

Splish Splash

Peppers, alla prima watercolor.

Wet into wet, my favorite way to play.  I'm not willing to settle down just yet to more complex work. I'm fine just playing in the water.  I was going to roast these veggies, but they're still fit to be painted. Once roasted, Ellis won't know they were slightly wrinkled. By the by, I've stopped reading Schmid's book. Too much info was coming at me and turning me off art just the way it happened years ago. My own drummer is very stubborn and shuts down when boggled down with information.  As many art books as I buy, I really don't like reading anybody's how to. Doing so sets me back.

Tied At The Hip

A Panda in Beijing, alla prima watercolor, inspired by a cover from  Harper's Bazaar.

Ellis and I are tied at the hip. As much as we've tried to avoid that happening, after fifty two years together, when one of us is not up to par or involved  doing something unpleasant or scary, the other one is affected.

All day long today, my love has been restricted to drinking nothing but liquids and eating nothing but jello or soup broth. He's starving. He's anxious. He's very apprehensive about having to drink the gallons of crap the doctor prescribed to clean out his system. He's having a colonoscopy. As necessary as this test is, it's a bear. You'd think they would have come up with some prep a little bit less violent.

All day long, I've been as anxious as he is. I tried to take my mind off his distress by painting,  but nothing good came of it. My heart wasn't in the studio; it was upstairs napping on the couch. I kept wishing it was tomorrow when we were back in good spirits  as we head for home around eleven o'clock.

This is a  watercolor from the past.  After a day of going no where with oils, it looks like I had some fun doing it. The female figure is sort of a mess, but I like it. It fits.

Stilettos

Stilettos

No more stilettos.  Pumas are my current style. A fortune in shoes from another life filled with Saturday nights out, mini dresses, obnoxious earrings and hair extensions.  Laid back is smarter, but quite honestly, the clothes get boring.

 Happy weekend everybody. Good painting!

And The Liebster Blog Award Goes To...

Watercolor Study of Erin; I see a budding Lolita in her expression. 

At the crack of dawn I was off to get an endoscopy of my upper digestive tract; an hour and a half later, I got home. My esophagus was the best 71 year old esophagus, the doctor had ever seen. I should have been a gastroenterologist. All the chairs in the waiting room were filled. All the beds in the clinic were filled. He was knocking EG whatevers out of the ball park. Now, I'm just a bit hung over from the fabulous drugs. I asked the anesthesiologist to ask me about my ring while I was out, but he thought I was joking. And I wasn't out long enough to find out myself. Damn. Now I'm restricted to laying around all day, not making any serious decisions or driving heavy machinery (just when the back forty needs mowing)

What else does one do when restricted? I surf the net. I checked in here first and lo and behold  find Konstantina awarded me the Liebster blog award! Just in time to lift my spirits. She's a sweetheart.

This award doesn't come without responsibilities however. I have to pay my admiration forward to five other blogs with less than 200 followers that I consider fantastic and very worthy and they have to do the same, but not if they don't feel like it. I feel like it.

 It would be my pleasure to honor: 1) Art By Roger 2) Gatepost Pictures; 3) Jean's Paintings; 4) Sharon Wright Artist; 5) Kathryn Ragan. Congratulations blog buddies. You all do inspirational work and  are always encouraging.

 And now the sticky part of accepting this award: I have to tell you five personal things that you don't know.  This is a tough one; I'm a pretty open book... okay: 1) I've never put gas in my car; 2) I don't read newspapers; 3) I play Sudoku first thing in the morning on the commode; 4) I repaint my front door Chinese red, after the painter for the condo association paints it somebody else's horrible idea of mauve; and 5) I don't drive an American car because their windows aren't big enough and my peripheral vision is limited.

ADDENDUM: Sorry guys, I got all the links wrong, not just Roger's.  I must still have been under the influence of the anesthetic or putting the links in in HTML mode wasn't a good way to do it? (that's how I did).

Coming Up For Air...

Cityscape Paris, watercolor , 7 1/2" x 7 1/2"

with another portrait relief piece. Christopher took a lot out of me, portraiture does. I'm too intent upon achieving a likeness a mother can recognize. So drawings like Mrs.L's Passion, Brutus, Coconut creme pie and Paris lighten me up. Eventually I'll get back to my guys and JD. Right now they face the wall.

I should be facing the wall. I lost my wedding band. I'm sick over it. I tore the house apart. I lost it here, for I seldom wear it. But it's no where to be found. On the bright side, my shoes are organized and I finally made a Goodwill bag of all those fabulous stilettos that have been sitting there since the knee became an issue. Shit. I hate loss; this kind  plagues me forever. If I had been more careful. If I had locked it up. If. You girls know.

This watercolor did take my mind off of it a bit. If it was larger it might have taken it off entirely? This watercolor would translate well onto a large canvas to join New York.

Splashing Around

TO BREAK THE SPELL, BREAK OUT A MEDIUM, THAT ISN'T YOU.

Stepped Street Scene #1, Watercolor

Stepped Street Scene X 2, Watercolor

The first pass was the best--even though I thought it was too busy. My second pass may not be finished? I have a desire to go back in once it's dry and add details with pastel pencil. The exercise was simply to get me doing something--anything--with paint. I like to splash around with water. (Odd that I'm Capricon; you'd think I was Pisces).

Watercolor always comes to mind because I like playing color wet into wet. Neither  painting took a lot of time. I have no patience for drying. Both were my spontaneous reaction to a photo I clipped out of my most favorite
magazine: Tauck Tours. I have no idea where this place is in Europe, but the black blob on the right  looks like a charming cafe that Ellis and I would adore. Walking the stairs down to the sea? I don't know?  

Watercolor on The Side

Carousel #3; 6" x 8"; Watercolor on Strathmore 140lb.

AM for watercolors. PM for Oils.  AM for warming up over  my morning coffee. PM for getting serious with the oils.

This wc didn't go as smoothly as I would have liked. The phone rang. I had to answer. I shouldn't have. The interruption broke my concentration. By the time I got back, the paper had dried beyond where I wanted it to be.  I loved talking to my friend, but next time, I'll call her back or ignore the ring.  This painting tells me I am not a watercolorist, but then I knew that. Watercolor is just painting on the side to me. You all do it so much better.

As you might have noticed, I'm fooling around with finding a new header that says portrait, not watercolor.  Yesterday, I tried out three. Ended up with the kids. It's way too big, but I left it; life was going on in another corner of my universe. The one I liked the best was a self portrait in charcoal, however, I noticed I have to darken my  right eye, (left facing). Is our work never done! Your feedback is welcome as always.

Painting, Not Polishing is My Cup of Tea

Silver Tea Pot;  8" x 10"; watercolor

I wrote a long drawn out post about polishing silver, which I did yesterday for some unknown reason. Then I deleted it; it was boring. This watercolor of the the tea pot that got painted, instead of polished, says it all: painting is more enjoyable than polishing. But then you all know that.

Only Organic

Only Organic,  10" x 12 1/2"; watercolor

my reference photograph

The vegetable drawers in my frig are not exactly the neatest drawers in the house. Far from it. During the winter
months, I just wipe them out when Honey brings the "only organic" vegetables home from the market.  But in the summer is when I deep clean them in the garden with my garden hose on the jet stream setting. In the summer, cleaning the bins is fun. In the winter, a wipe and a polish is all I can muster.

I don't care if we eat "only organic" or not. I prefer inorganic because organic spoils just minutes home from the market. Now that I don't do the marketing, organic is just fine.

What attracted me to this subject was the plastic storage bags filled with veggies one atop the other. To get a better drawing, I felt a strong  need for masking medium--but not strong enough to get me to use it.   I just went at this painting  in my normal free handed way.  I'm noticing I'm standing more when working with watercolors. Seated is just too seated. Rigamortis sets in. 

My Little Red Bird

PAINTING  RELIEVES TENSION 

Alessi Kettle; 10" x 10", watercolour

The Portland Building for all you artists
living in the Portland area.

Particularly when there's nothing riding on how it turns out.

The Alessi Kettle was designed by  Michael Graves, Architect and designer for Poggenpohl cabinetry, which our company represented in the Detroit area and I specked often when designing contemporary kitchens and baths.

I fell in love with the little red bird whistle the minute I saw it.  I had to have one for the my cooktop in the galley kitchen in our new apartment on the twenty second floor  where  aquariums weren't recommended.  The water sloshed out of them on windy days;  the building swayed.  So much so, that once a year I had the maintenance man  named Phil come up and rehang my chandelier, which was  suspended from the ceiling with four airplane wires. After a year of swaying in the wind, one wire could be counted on to disconnect. I loved having a guy named Phil around.

I gifted my kitchen clients with the Alessi Kettle when their kitchen renovation projects were completed.  They loved the little red bird as much as I did and still do.

Blew It! But Not Altogether.

This underpainting on the left  no longer exists; all that remains of it is the painting on the right. A pity. It was a good abstract. But had I left it alone, this painting wouldn't have happened.

 I totally blew the orange horse--overworked it--but I suspect it was overworked yesterday. I did like my development of  the right portion of the painting, so I cut the bad out and kept the good. It's small and narrow, (3 1/4" x 8"), but  charming. You live, you paint, you screw up, you learn what's a mess, what's worthy of saving.






AFTER MY DISASTER, I FIRMED UP THE FIRST PAINTING: After a couple days of observation, I decided when painting a carousel,  one needs a firm grip on some solid color.

THEN I FOOLED AROUND TILL LUNCH:  Watercolors aren't finished till matted. They need air to breathe--especially when the blog page has a charcoal gray background.

AND I WILL TOO GET THOSE TINY LITTLE HANDS IF IT KILLS ME--AND IT MIGHT!

Another couple of hours spent with oils and little baby hands. They are painful to paint, but I think I'm making progress. An artist I ran into advised don't make them as wrinkled as they are. Thinking I know best--we're all so egotistical--I ignored her advice for a while, then after getting too detailed and ugly, I started to simplify. She was absolutely correct. The hands have started to improve.

Online looking for glazing guidance, I ran into a wonderful portrait artist. Jess Bates is his name. His site is basically to promote his portrait business, but it also offered tutorials. I read one then browsed through his other pages.  After reading what he tells his clients, I felt so much better about how long this painting is taking me.  Bates said a painting can take four to six weeks to paint and another month to varnish That's for a painting coming from a professional. Naturally, being a novice, of course this painting is going to take  me  a tad longer. I immediately relaxed. My Mother's Day deadline is off. I do plan to finish before then, but I really do think it should be varnished correctly. A proper varnish coat is what will keep the painting in the family  for years.  For other novice and not so novice portrait artists, I added Jess Bates to my blog list. I intend to spend some more afternoons with this man.

Carousel, The Watercolor, Not The Musical

I did ride the Stillman carousel made in 1928 by that company and loved all four and a half minutes. The only thing missing was cotton candy afterwards.

This is my first watercolor interpretation of this photograph I shot from astride my horse that went up and down as we went round and round.  The carousel is in the pavilion  of the Grand Rapids People's Museum. The pavilion extends over the Grand River. The ride was a gas, as Sammy Davis Jr. (Who) would have said.
I didn't get dizzy at all--or nauseous.

 I was moved to get out my watercolors by Dan Kent's (Dan's Canvas) post yesterday. It was something he said Frank Eber said: "Try not to do too much" with watercolors. That's what I had forgotten! I read nearly the same thing  in my most favorite wc book: Painting Outside The Lines by Linda Kemp, which first got me to buy some tubes and actually try the medium. The author praised it for allowing spontaneity. I loved her paintings and you know I love spontaneity. I intend to do a few more alla prima interpretations of the colorful carny ride I loved as a kid and again on my wedding anniversary.  I was just sorry there weren't more people adding to all the glorious colors -- but then, it was nine thirty in the morning.  I wanted to make sure no little kid was going to make me feel sorry for him just because I got the last horse. I feel satisfied with this painting; it's a step in the right wc direction for me.

The carousel pavilion in Grand Rapids as seen from the 23rd floor of the JW Marriott

I kept zooming in to see if the lights were on in the carousel
so I'd know the museum was open.