RiverSea Gallery – Dayna J Collins

Little Paintings

It’s that time of year when galleries like to offer smaller pieces of art at a price point that people can purchase original art as gifts — I have always loved this idea, whether for gifts, or for personal collections. I am excited to be sending small pieces of art to my three galleries: Guardino Gallery (in Portland), Salem on the Edge (in Salem), and RiverSea Gallery (in Astoria). I thought that rather than just sharing photos of the art that I have created for these three galleries, I would first share a bit of the background in creating these pieces.

When I teach my Oil and Cold Wax Abstracted Landscapes class at Sitka Center for Art and Ecology, we do warm ups throughout the week using Arches Oil Paper, which we tape (using painter’s tape) onto large sheets of butcher paper or newsprint. I give verbal prompts for things to do on these small squares of oil paper and while giving these prompts, I also follow along and do the prompts on my own squares of paper. By the end of the class, we all have several completed paintings as well as several fun starts for finishing in the future. Here are some examples of the taped down pieces of paper at various stages.

This year, I took several of the sheets of taped down paper pieces, and started tackling the small squares one at a time, adding layers, marks, creating compositions, and resolving issues, working on them while they were still taped down with six paintings per sheet of paper.

Once I resolved the paintings, I removed the tape (WATCH FOR MY NEXT BLOG POST WHERE I SHARE WHAT I DID WITH THE PEELED UP TAPE!), trimmed the edges of the paper where the tape had been, and then glued the painting onto a cradled wood panel. I applied a final layer of cold wax and varnished the edges. By the time I had completed this process, I had 26 paintings, six were 5×5 inches, and the rest were 6×6 inches.

Fast forward to today. All of the pieces have been waxed, buffed, varnished, wired, titled, photographed, inventoried, and boxed. Deliveries will begin happening over the next couple of weeks. Whew. Here are some of the completed pieces heading to my three galleries.

“The Blur of Memories,” 6×6 inches, oil and cold wax, on cradled panel, by Dayna Collins.

“Smoldering Silence,” 6×6 inches, oil and cold wax, on cradled panel, by Dayna Collins.

“Reflecting Sunlight,” 6×6 inches, oil and cold wax, on cradled panel, by Dayna Collins.

“Out of the Silence,” 6×6 inches, oil and cold wax, on cradled panel, by Dayna Collins.

“Happy Silence of Mind,” 6×6 inches, oil and cold wax, on cradled panel, by Dayna Collins.

“In the Silence of the Evening,” 6×6 inches, oil and cold wax, on cradled panel, by Dayna Collins.

“Fearless Love,” 6×6 inches, oil and cold wax, on cradled panel, by Dayna Collins.

“Coastal Riptides,” 6×6 inches, oil and cold wax, on cradled panel, by Dayna Collins.

“A New State of Wonder,” 6×6 inches, oil and cold wax, on cradled panel, by Dayna Collins.

“Untethered in Space,” 6×6 inches, oil and cold wax, on cradled panel, by Dayna Collins.

“Along the Tideline,” 6×6 inches, oil and cold wax, on cradled panel, by Dayna Collins.

“Stirrings of Enchantment,” 6×6 inches, oil and cold wax, on cradled panel, by Dayna Collins.

In addition to the 21 pieces headed to the galleries, priced at $100 each, I have five of the 5×5 inch pieces available on my website. The 5×5 inch pieces are $70 (and include shipping).

“Currents of Cool Wind,” 5×5 inches, oil and cold wax, on cradled panel, by Dayna Collins.

“A Place of Peace,” 5×5 inches, oil and cold wax, on cradled panel, by Dayna Collins.

“A Field of Peace,” 5×5 inches, oil and cold wax, on cradled panel, by Dayna Collins.

“A Thin Fog of Moonlight,” 5×5 inches, oil and cold wax, on cradled panel, by Dayna Collins.

“Fistfuls of Sky,” 5×5 inches, oil and cold wax, on cradled panel, by Dayna Collins

NOTE: The beautiful graphic painting at the beginning of this post, was created by Salem artist, Sloy Nichols.

Create Whimsy: Spotlight Artist

In December, I was invited by my friend Chardel to be the Spotlight Artist in Create Whimsy, an online journal/photo album. The publication is filled with photos and articles, but defies a typical format so I asked Chardel, the editor at Create Whimsy, to describe their format and mission.

At Create Whimsy, we’re artists, builders, makers, crafters and creators – just like you. We share the stories of makers and what they make, inspiring creativity in our everyday lives. But we’re more than a photo album. We not only want to see what you create, we want to know what inspired you, how you did it, the insights you learned in the process. That’s what we are passionate about, and it’s the kind of website we wanted to create. Finding inspiration is important, and so is finding help from a community. That’s what we strive for. The journeys of other artists inspire us in our own work, so that’s what we hope to achieve for our readers – validation for what you are doing or the catalyst to try a new direction. And eye candy. We delight in eye candy! We hope that Create Whimsy gives you the confidence to make some art and show it off! We are happy to answer questions at hello@createwhimsy.com

December got busy and turned into January, my show at RiverSea Gallery in Astoria was delivered and hung, the opening reception took place, and then my attention turned to a long list of interview questions provided by Chardel. Early one morning I sat down at my desk and began the arduous task of writing responses. A first draft was generated, reviewed, revised, and then given to my personal editor (aka Howard), who worked his magic, crossing some sentences out, offering suggestions in different areas, then back to my computer to clean up the marked up, illegible notes.

I was asked to provide photos, which led me down the rabbit hole of trying to decide which images to send. I work in several mediums, so I did lots of digging into my online photo albums, looking for photos that convey what I do. I sent too many photos to Chardel and to Lynn, the journal’s CEO and founder, for them to choose which photos to use and to get my photos formatted for their publication.

And as if by magic, Lynn and Chardel sent me a link to my Spotlight Feature. I was kind of verklempt as I read through the article where I was given such generous space, all of my words along with a series of photos were there. It is with great pleasure and delight that I share the article with you. Here is the link: Spotlight: Dayna Collins, Mixed Media Artist

If you would like to see more of Create Whimsy, they can be found here on Instagram and on Facebook

Emotional Alignments: Opening Weekend

My solo show at RiverSea Gallery, Emotional Alignments, opened on January 9 and I celebrated the opening for a couple of days. I had dropped my art off at the gallery on the Thursday before the opening and saw it for the first time on Friday afternoon.

When we walked into the gallery on Friday, our friends Greg and Tabor were there, so we had a nice long visit about the show.

On Saturday, the official opening and Astoria’s monthly Art Walk, ran from noon until 8 pm, the hours greatly expanded to accommodate social distancing in the midst of an ongoing pandemic. My friend Stephanie drove to Astoria and we spent the day playing in and around Astoria.

Saturday night arrived and I was at the gallery from 5-8 pm.

It was a pretty quiet opening, but I was able to visit with everyone who stopped by and social distancing was easily achieved. Our friends from Salem, Lois and Dave, were in Astoria for a few days and they popped in for a hello and to see the show.

Howard and gallery owner, Jeannine, had a nice rock and chat.

And a few days later, our daughter Amy and grandson Emmett were able to see the show.

I thought I would share a few selected pieces of the art on view.

“Bolting Brightly Ahead,” 12×12 inches, plaster, oil, and cold wax, by Dayna J. Collins.

“An Animating Surge of Adrenaline,” 30×30 inches, plaster, oil, and cold wax, by Dayna J. Collins.

“Despite the Current Situation,” 30×30 inches, plaster, oil, and cold wax by Dayna J. Collins.

“An Elegant Progression of Emotions,” 30×30 inches, plaster, oil, and cold wax by Dayna J. Collins.

“Staring Out at the World,” 36×36 inches, plaster, oil, and cold wax by Dayna J. Collins.

“A Canyon of Emotions,” 36×36 inches, plaster, oil, and cold wax, by Dayna J. Collins.

“A Semblance of Rhythm,” 36×36 inches, plaster, oil, and cold wax by Dayna J. Collins.

The show will be up through February 9 and all of the info on the show can be found by clicking here.

Now What?

Painting should call out to the viewer . . . and the surprised viewer should go to it, as if entering a conversation.

Roger de Piles, 1676

The dust has hardly settled and I’m already looking ahead to 2021, although I’ve got a jump start on a couple of projects while it is still 2020. But first, my show at RiverSea, Emotional Alignments, gets hung next week and the opening reception will be held on Saturday, January 9, from 12-8 pm during the Astoria Art Walk. I’ll be at the gallery that evening from 5-8 pm if you happen to be out and about.

Nine of 20 pieces in the Emotional Alignments show, opening January 9, 2021, at RiverSea Gallery in Astoria, Oregon

Most people would probably wait until after a show has opened before starting work on another show, but I’m not most people. So forward I go, taking full advantage of making art during a pandemic. Early preparations have begun for a May, 2021 show at Salem on the Edge. Very preliminary preparations, lining up which boards I want to use, getting them painted, plaster applied, sanding them outside (weather permitting), and then getting them sealed and ready for applying oil and cold wax. As of this writing, I have no idea what my theme or composition will be – that will come in the new year.

In my next post, I’ll share about another project I’m currently working on . . . . .

Emotional Alignments: On the Home Stretch

So many tasks to attend to once the art has been made. First up, is removing the tape from the backs of the cradled wood panels, sanding the backs of the boards to clean up painty messes (I got a little hand sander for an early Christmas gift!), titling and signing the pieces, getting them all wired, and then photographed and inventoried. Whew.

And in between all these tasks, I needed to write my Artist Statement, something I have been laboring over for the past few weeks.

In the midst of this frenzy of activity, I realized that all 20 boards wouldn’t fit in either of our small, economical cars, so on Saturday we loaded up Howard’s car with 16 of the boards (amazing we crammed in 16), and headed to Astoria, where I planned to apply the final coat of cold wax to seal the paintings.

We got the paintings unloaded and I took over the funky upstairs space at our Astoria Beach House. I covered the table and floors and got set up to give my right arm a workout: slathering on a thin layer of cold wax with a putty knife, setting up extra heaters to warm up the upstairs, and then letting the wax dry and set on the pieces in preparation for a final buff and polish the next day.

The paintings are now buffed and polished, nestled downstairs in the extra bedroom, and I even managed to finish my Artist’s Statement this morning while it stormed and rained outside.

The details for my upcoming show:

Emotional Alignments: an emotional response to 2020

RiverSea Gallery in Astoria, located on the northern Oregon coast

January 9-February 9, 2021

Opening Reception: Astoria Art Walk, Saturday January 9, from 12-8:00 pm (to allow social distancing all day); I’ll be there from 5:00-8:00 pm.

When a Deadline Looms

If you read my last post, I shared about my upcoming show at RiverSea Gallery in Astoria and how my initial idea was the theme of waterlines, but somewhere along the way I realized it was no longer a theme I wanted to explore. Instead, I started thinking in bands and swaths of color, a design element I have been smitten with for years. My thoughts went to how I have always been attracted to color field art, so as I painted and worked on my boards, the idea of working in fields of color filled my consciousness. The words Emotional Alignments became the title of my show, and propelled me forward. I knew where I was going and I was excited to get into my studio every day; I had an enthusiasm I hadn’t had in a long time.

After getting all of my boards prepped, I kicked into full time painting, spending several hours a day in my studio adding layers of oil and cold wax. In my last post, I shared the process of how I prepare my boards with acrylic paint, plaster, and more acrylic paint, and now I’m showing and sharing the process of adding layers of oil paint mixed with cold wax.

The first order of business is to mix up cold wax with Galkyd (which helps speed the drying time), then mix oil paints with the wax mixture, making it the consistency of whipped butter (or shortening if you are old enough to remember that cooking staple).

I use the early layers to just get color down so I have something to respond to. I’ve been working on 20 pieces simultaneously, so drying space is at a premium, necessitating spreading out into our bathroom and the upstairs hallway.

Once I have one or two initial layers of oil and cold wax, often alternating between warm and cool colors so when I’m scratching through the wet paint, the earlier layer is revealed, it is time to begin thinking about a composition. I knew I would be focusing on bands of color, so I just started painting swaths, giving some thought to color, but not too much advance planning at this stage.

Eventually, I had another layer on the boards and it was time to begin making more informed choices to add variety within the swaths: warm against cool, texture against smooth, bright against dull, light against dark, busy against calm. I had the idea of using paint chips (from the hardware store) to play with color combinations.

I also gave a great deal of attention to the intersections between the bands of color, the interstices. I have long been fascinated with intersections: drawing into the layers to reveal earlier layers, what colors show through, adding lines of color with the edge of a squeegee, how to create bold interest, how to create quiet interest that invites a viewer to step closer to see the details.

And so it goes. Back and forth, adding, subtracting, standing back, scraping, excavating, laying down more paint. Mental and physical gymnastics.

Between painting sessions, is the inbetween, the drying time. I set up a fan and a heater to blow warm, dry air around my studio, a time for the paintings to rest, a time for me to rest. It all seems to help.

Paintings are being completed and I’m excited about them. They reflect how I have moved through the pandemic, politics, wildfires, and personal traumas this past year. Titling the pieces has been as therapeutic as painting them. I think I might just be okay.

In my next post, I’ll share the completed pieces. The show, Emotional Alignments, opens Saturday, January 9, 2021, at RiverSea Gallery as part of the Astoria monthly Art Walk.

The Arduous Task of Preparing for a Show

For the past couple of months I have put my nose to the grindstone. Being in the middle of a pandemic, life outside my house has been meager, so in many ways this has been the ideal time to put myself into a self-imposed studio timeout. I had the opportunity for a show at RiverSea Gallery, a contemporary art gallery in Astoria on the Oregon Coast. I have had art there for several years, I’ve been in group shows, and two years ago I had a show with my friend Stephanie Brockway. I had been thinking about asking for a solo show, but had never approached the gallery owner, Jeannine. Until October. I met with Jeannine and because of the pandemic, she was juggling the rescheduling of shows from 2020 into 2021; then she said that an artist had just cancelled for January 2021 and I could have that slot. In the big gallery. Gulp. Yes, please. Let the madness begin.

I work in layers. Many layers. It goes ~~something~~ like this. Gathering boards and painting them with a layer of acrylic or house paint. Once dry, I slather on a layer of plaster, which needs to dry overnight. The plastered boards are then schlepped outside to be lightly sanded, brought back into the studio, and sealed with a layer of acrylic stain. I like to baptize my boards with words, so I usually scribble a quote or something about how I’m feeling. Then I’m ready to begin actually painting. Because words don’t quite capture the physicality of this process, here is my photo essay depicting the first round of layers.

Now the boards are ready for painting.

When I originally pitched my show to Jeannine, my idea was for a show about waterlines, something I have been passionate about exploring for years. But as I began applying the initial layers of oil and cold wax, I realized the show was no longer about waterlines. When I needed to send an image to Jeannine for her November newsletter, I sent her this message:

I have been consistently working since we met in October, moving forward with the theme of Waterlines. I prepped 15 boards (20×20 inches up to 40×40 inches) with acrylic, plaster, acrylic, and then one to two layers of oil paint mixed with cold wax. As I began the process of reconciling the under layers with a finished composition, it became apparent that my heart wasn’t in a strict interpretation of waterlines. My original vision for the show was bold swaths of color representing waterlines, but as I began applying paint in bright bands of color, I realized what I was experiencing was more than waterlines; it was an emotional response to 2020: the pandemic, politics, and wildfires (as well as a series of personal family hardships). Waterlines always find their way into my pieces as inspiration, but this show isn’t about waterlines, but my emotional response to 2020. So things have changed a bit. I have titled the show: EMOTIONAL ALIGNMENTS. Once I started making this shift last week, my painting took off. I start my days enthusiastic and excited to get into the studio.

In my next post, I’ll share about the evolution of my paintings (now at 20 works in various stages of completion) using oil paint mixed with cold wax medium . . . . and the many hours I spend in my studio.

New Studio? Almost . . . . .

I came very close to signing a lease on a new studio this week. It was bigger, in a great location, and an affordable price. I’m in the middle of preparing for two major shows in 2021, so I was feeling cramped in my current home painting studio and felt like more wall space would help reduce my anxiety.

It was election day that I looked at the space and I was initially excited about the possibilities. Then I came home and really began thinking about it. I would need to cover the floor with canvas and the walls with plastic. Did I really want to paint in a Dexter kill room? The lighting wasn’t great, but that was solvable. One thing after another and I began to feel more and more unsettled. Or maybe it was just election jitters. And then late into the evening, I knew that this new studio space was not the right fit for me. I conveyed my decision to my most ardent supporter, Howard, and at around 11:30 pm he popped out of bed and walked into my studio, turned the lights on, and just stood there. What can we do to make this space work better for you?

A couple of ideas emerged from our midnight chatter. My shelf of vintage dolls and doll heads would need to come down so I could appropriate that space for studio storage (what!?!). I would move my bookshelf so that that wall space could be converted to an area to hang a painting and make my painting supplies more accessible. But probably the best idea of the night: Howard would build me a movable wall so I could hang and work on two additional paintings.

The next day, Howard headed to the hardware store, bought supplies, and spent the rest of the day in the garage building me my movable wall. I’m in love! Not only with that guy in the garage, but with my new wall.

I took down all of my dolls.

I moved my bookshelf (with a little purging) to the closet and moved all of my boards at various stages of completion to the top shelf where the dolls used to live.

My space isn’t perfect, but it is sure a lot more useful. And I still need to use our upstairs landing for storing larger boards and for boards that are drying. Boards are still drying in our bathroom on top of the bathtub, but it is better than moving into a space that wasn’t the right place or the right time.

If you are curious about what my studio looked like last week, go take a look at the fall issue of Subjectiv: A Journal of Visual and Literary Arts, where my previous studio is featured on pages 89-96!

Day of the Dead + Urban Scavenger: A Bit of Backstory

I have two pieces in the current Day of the Dead show at RiverSea Gallery in Astoria (on the Oregon Coast) and I want to share a bit about how the pieces were created. But first, the show. Tabor Porter is the curator and he invited his friends to participate. It is a small and intimate show in the Alcove of the gallery. Here is how Tabor describes the show:

The Day of the Dead reminds us to live our lives to the fullest; because death is always an integral, ever-present part of life. The present day Pandemic poignantly reminds us of that. So as we commemorate the death of our loved ones in celebration, we remind ourselves and others how important their lives were. In doing so we remind ourselves how important ours can be. This group of artists that I consider my friends endeavor to show us their relationship with this day of mourning and celebration.

The two pieces I created for the show are 4 inches wide and 48 inches tall, making them difficult to photograph. But here goes:

If you are interested in seeing the Day of the Dead show at RiverSea Gallery, the show will be up through November 10, 2020.

Now for the back story. I’ve been collecting random papers and ephemera for years and in more recent years, I have become an urban scavenger, pulling posters and fliers from telephone phones and buildings. As I was thinking ahead to Day of the Dead, I knew I wanted to incorporate some graffiti posters into my pieces, so as the pandemic put the state in lock down, Howard and I masked up and ventured to Portland in search of old, weathered, beat up, out-of-date fliers. The streets were empty and we were able to scavenge lots of fodder.

Let me tell you this about being an urban scavenger: you need gloves, tools to pull the bunched up posters from the telephone pole, and even if there isn’t a pandemic, you might want to wear a mask. The material is sometimes wet (don’t pull the posters from the bottom of the pole because sometimes it is a bit yellow, if you know what I mean), stinky with creosote, and buggy. So when we got all of the papers home, I aired them out in the garage and outside for several weeks.

Then once the paper was dryish and aired out, I had to handle every single piece to pull out all of the staples and nails. Again, gloves are a must.

Once the processing was complete, I sorted and loosely organized the materials into bins and boxes.

I used the pieces and scraps to create my two pieces for the DOTD show at RiverSea Gallery.

“Thoughts Reaching Into the Past”
Dayna J. Collins

I have also used the scavenged posters and fliers in other ways; both for under layers in mixed media pieces as well as on book boards for my Salvage Collages.

Scrounged Beauty: The Opening

Here we are the day of our show opening, stopping by for a final sneak peek since we hadn’t yet seen our scrounged letters hanging above the word beauty. We loved it. We spent the day tromping all over Astoria, took a short rest, then returned at 5:00 to celebrate our opening for the rest of the evening.

Final formal photos of Stephanie and me.

Once the guests began to arrive, it was a riot of activity, laughter, fun, chatter, music, visiting, drinking, eating, and general merriment as people came and went, lingered, wandered, stopped back for another look and chat. Stephanie and I were blown away by how many of our friends drove from out of town: Seattle, Salem, Portland, and Albany.

After the last guest drifted away, a group of friends joined us for dinner across the street at Fulio’s and we lingered late into the evening, basking in the afterglow of a successful show and opening party.