Plaster – Dayna J Collins

From Shed to Art Studio

It has been a whirlwind of activity since last fall, beginning with the selling of our house and the purchase of a new one all within days of each other (I wrote about this here.)

When we purchased our new home, we knew it didn’t have a space inside for a studio, but at that time, we were more focused on finding the right house and figuring out my studio space later. We used one extra bedroom in the house as my collage studio, but where a painting studio would be located was a problem to solve. We considered the garage, but we needed the garage for other things, so that wasn’t feasible. We discussed my finding a studio space in an off-site location, but monthly rent adds up quickly.

A view through the door with a reflection from the clear awning.

In our backyard on a pad of pavers, was a 10×10 Tuff Shed, which the previous owners used for storing garden materials. Howard came up with the idea of purchasing another 10×10 Tuff Shed and connecting the new shed with the old. We explored that option, but there were a lot of problems in making that work, which led us down the rabbit hole of having a stand alone shed built next to the existing shed. We worked with a Tuff Shed expert to design the new shed, choosing a 10×20 model (the largest possible without getting permits). I got to pick out the height of the walls and roof (8 foot walls with a pitched roof), what kind of door I wanted (a residential door with glass), and how many and where I wanted windows (one window on the south wall). My goal for one window and a single door was to maximize working wall space for hanging my art boards.

Once decisions were made, and the shed ordered (after being ordered, it was delivered the following week!), the ground needed to be excavated in order for the shed to be installed. Howard dug and dug and dug, piling the dirt next to the garage. Installation day arrived and two great guys showed up, unloaded the foundation, walls, window, and door. Like magic and by early afternoon, the shed was installed and ready to be converted to my studio.

Building the studio: Howard dug out a LOT of dirt to make room for the studio foundation.

Building the studio: The foundation needed to have 16 more inches dug out at the last minute.

Building the studio: Installing the foundation.

Building the studio: Installing the walls.

Building the studio: Putting up the walls.

Building the studio: the door and window installed.

Once the shed was in place, the finishing projects went like this:

Electrical

This was the only thing that took a long time to get scheduled – two weeks – it seemed like an eternity, but once the electrical was installed, Howard was ready to go. (Side note: the existing 10×10 shed had an electrical panel, so wiring the new studio was easy since the electricians could tap into the already installed panel.)

Insulation

Wall board, Mudding, and Sanding

This took a while because each layer of mud had to dry, and it was messy because of all of the sanding.

Priming and Painting

It took two coats of primer to get the new walls sealed, and then I had to choose what color to paint the walls. I knew I wanted white, but did I want a warm white or a cool white? I posed this question on my Facebook page and received dozens of suggestions and ideas for what white (and surprisingly, a lot of suggestions to use grey). I went to Benjamin Moore and Sherwin Williams and gathered a couple dozen whites – warm and cool. By a process of research about the whites, and relying on my Spidey senses, I chose Sherwin Williams White Flour, a warm white with creamy undertones. Thank you to everyone who took the time to write such thoughtful responses.

Flooring

I had originally thought to just paint the floor, and for a little while thought about throwing down cheap rugs, but then my Portland artist friend, Maude May, who also has a Tuff Shed converted to her studio, suggested peel and stick vinyl flooring. Hello! What a brilliant idea. Off to Lowe’s we went and found the perfect pattern for my studio. Howard cleaned the splotches of mud and paint from the flooring, applied two coats of special flooring primer, then over the course of three days, applied the peel and stick tiles rather willy nilly, creating the perfect, random pattern. I love it!

Building the studio: Playing with the layout of the vinyl peel and stick floor tiles.

Building the studio: Howard putting on the first layer of floor primer.

Building the studio: Preparing to install peel and stick vinyl tiles.

Building the studio: Installing peel and stick vinyl tiles.

Walls for Hanging Art

Building the studio: Howard installing the 120 screws for hanging and moving my cradled panels around.

Building the studio: 120 screws put into the walls for hanging my cradled panels. The rows are 16 inches apart and the columns are six inches apart,

Howard installed 60 screws on each of my two long walls, for a grand total of 120 screws. He had just finished painting the walls, so he still had his paint sprayer set up: he misted the two walls with paint so that the screws blended into the walls.

Moving In

Ahhhhh, beginning to put together the studio infrastructure.

Organizing my new rolling carts: A shelf for each color of oil paint.

I knew I wanted two work stations on opposite ends of the studio; the south work station is for my acrylic and water-based media and the north work station is for my oil and cold wax. I ordered an inexpensive funky chair online to have a contemplation chair, and brought in two of my vintage rolling work carts (I have four); I also purchased two tower rolling carts to store my oil paints divided by color.

I saved the best for last: Deciding what to hang on my inspiration board.

The walls are white . . . . but not the door.

A favorite corner, storage for water-based media.

Outside Finish Work

Building the studio: The first coat of paint has been applied.

The studio is finished. But is it ever really finished? I don’t think so.

We had a few good days of weather, so Howard and I jumped into action and painted the outside walls and trim (just the front facing walls – we still have the back and three sides to do – it wasn’t that nice for that long). I had pre painted some big metal letters, and Howard got those installed. We also realized we needed some kind of awning for the doorway so I wouldn’t get soaked unlocking the door, so we ordered a nice awning from Wayfair and Howard got that installed just in time for the next rain shower (we live in Oregon, the awning was essential).

Howard reading the directions for putting together the studio awning.

Howard installing the letters. Of course, when he got to this point, I told him I needed a photo.

Installing the mailbox. I don’t anticipate getting much mail. . . .

Pavers and Art Plaza

As the studio was being put together, we decided that it would be nice to have a clean, attractive space between the house and the studios. There were already existing pavers around the Art Annex (the original 10×10 Tuff Shed), so we decided to extend them to the edge of the new studio. In the middle of working on the inside of the studio, a crew of three guys arrived and spent three full days excavating and then installing pavers and a small rock wall. We call this our Art Plaza. (NOTE: We used our neighbor’s business to do the work, Curb Appeal, and they did beautiful work. They finished on a Friday afternoon just before the snow arrived, so I got to enjoy the Plaza for about an hour and then I didn’t get to see it again for a week, until the snow melted.)

Art Annex

The little Tuff Shed that came with the house had been set up for gardening supplies. It had built in shelves, electricity, and lights, making it a perfect place to store all of my blank art substrates as well as excess paper, art supplies, surplus rolling carts, and finished art. I plopped down a rug, turned on some heat, and created a perfect auxiliary studio.

The Annex: Art storage for boards and supplies (the painted floor mat covering the window was done by Sloy).

A Working Studio

I have two work stations: this one for oil and cold wax; at the other end of the studio is acrylics and water-based materials.

The Cost

In case you’re interested in what all of this cost, I know I was looking for this kind of information when we first set out on this adventure, I want to give you a rough estimate of what we spent to create this 10×20 studio in our backyard. We had out of pocket costs, but Howard did the majority of the work: he excavated the ground for the foundation (with some help from our strong son, Scott), cut down a tree limb, did the insulation, installed the wallboard, mudded, and sanded (with the help of our wonderful handyperson, Nancy), primed and painted the walls, installed the peel and stick tiles, painted the outside, and put up the awning over the door. All costs are rounded and approximate:

Tuff Shed $9,300; electrical $1,300 (a second bid we got was $3,300! so glad we got two bids); wallboard $400; help with wallboard installation $500; peel and stick vinyl flooring $400; paint and primer $300; insulation $600; awning $200. Howard loosely estimates his labor at $2,000. So the total project (NOT including the pavers since those didn’t have anything to do with the building of the studio): $15,000. We had anticipated it would cost around $14,000, so we were pleased to be within $1,000 of our estimate.

Salem Reads 2023: Boundless Optimism

My January newsletter went out this week and in it I shared about my participation in the 2023 Salem Reads program. This community-wide reading event has been sponsored by the Salem Public Library Foundation since 2017. I was one of the original artists, and although I have been invited to participate each year since, I didn’t jump on the opportunity. . . .until this year. The chosen book is Trevor Noah’s Born a Crime: Stories from a South African Childhood.

Invited artists were instructed to read the book and then create a piece of art in response. I listened to the book on Audible, which was read by Trevor; I loved hearing Trevor’s accent and his inflections, making for an enjoyable and humorous experience. The book was presented as a series of short stories, focusing on different eras of his life as a child and young man. The book was heartwarming, funny, tragic, tender, and ultimately a story of redemption as Trevor rose above his tough circumstances.

I was aware of apartheid and knew a little about it, but Trevor’s stories brought it alive through his eyes of a child growing up during the extreme segregation of whites and blacks.

In my artist statement, I was able to share what led me to create what I did for this exhibit.

As I read ‘Born a Crime,’ so many images swirled in my mind. Trevor was born to a black mother and a white father during the extreme racial segregation of South African apartheid. Despite their circumstances, Trevor’s mother demonstrated feistiness, determination, and perseverance. As Trevor matured, he exhibited many of the characteristics of his mother, carving out a life filled with humor, music, inventiveness, and friendship. Before I began my painting in response to ‘Born a Crime,’ I wrote out the text from the Immorality Act of 1927 across the surface of my board, reminding me of the laws in place when Trevor was conceived and born. I painted this piece with the idea of a young man rising out of the darkness of apartheid, which I translated into colors. I filled the niche with objects representing Trevor’s creativity, spirit, and abundance despite his circumstances.

The piece I created is 16×16 inches square and three inches deep, with a 5×5 inch niche filled with charms and small trinkets. I attached these small items using string, which I tacked to the top of the niche using vintage, colorful thumb tacks.

The 2023 show runs from February 1-25, and will be held in the Art Hall at the Salem Public Library. At the end of February, the show will be packed up and transported to a series of regional libraries; my piece will return to Salem in June.

If you’re interested in learning more about the pieces of art created for the show, several of the participating artists (myself included), appeared on Joel Zak’s KMUZ radio show, Talking About Art, last Friday. A recording of the show can be found on the KMUZ website by going HERE. During my segment, I talked about my motivation behind the piece of art I created for the show.

Interested in signing up for my newsletter? I send it out once a month and I share what I am doing, something about my art practice, special projects, a book review and recommendation, and an art quote. Follow this link to sign up.

Word and Image: Writers and Artists in Dialogue

The Word and Image show is one of my favorite projects and it took place last month at the Hoffman Center for the Arts in Manzanita (on the Oregon coast). This event occurs biennially, and I was fortunate to have participated in 2020, so I was eager to apply for 2022. The process for the show goes like this:

Artists and writers are invited to submit samples of their work; artists submit three art images and writers submit three poems/short stories. The jury then chooses 12 artists and 12 writers. A pairing event is held where an artist’s name is pulled from a hat, then a writer’s name is pulled from a hat, and voila! those two are partners. The artist choses one of the three writing entries and creates a new piece of art in response to the words, likewise, the writer choses a piece of art from those submitted and writes a poem or short story in response. This new work is submitted electronically so beautiful broadsides can be printed and a book prepared and published.

MY PAINTING PROCESS

I chose to use an 18×28 inch cradled birch panel. I prepared it with acrylic paint, a layer of plaster, more acrylic paint to seal the plaster, and a couple layers of oil and cold wax. This was all the preparation to begin painting in response to the writer I was paired with, Simeon Dreyfuss. I chose Simeon’s poem, Walk Roots the Day as the piece I was using for my responsive painting. When the initial layers of my prepped board were completely dry, I wrote Simeon’s poem across the surface of my board.

I wrote Simeon’s poem on the surface of my board to incorporate his words with my paint.

I began adding layers of paint, looking for the poem to emerge.

I used my painting for a demo when I was teaching at Sitka Center for Art and Ecology this summer. The demo was how to scrape off paint!

After layers of paint, and scraping off a layer, I worked on this piece when I wasn’t teaching at Sitka Center for Art and Ecology – either early in the morning, or in the evening after my students had left for the day. It seemed appropriate to be painting this piece while I was at Cascade Head on the Oregon coast.

I played around with this design and color idea by painting a small piece on paper and a 12×12 inch piece on a cradled panel.

THE SHOW

Art was delivered to the gallery, art and broadsides were hung, an online reception was held, and a beautiful book was published.

The beautiful book that captures the work.

Two-page spread in the Word and Image book.

Opening reception: Simeon’s words in response to my painting, “Everything Feels Different.”

THE VISIT

A HAPPY POSTSCRIPT

As I was working on this blog post, I took a break to welcome Paula Booth into my home. Paula is a professor of art at Western Oregon University and also curates the art at two northwest hotels, The Dundee and The Independence. I am fortunate to have art at both hotels and we had made arrangements for Paula to come to my house to view my available work to change out some of my pieces at The Independence. I had just picked up Storm Mounting from the Hoffman Center for the Arts, and so it was one of my available pieces. Paula was excited to include this painting in the group of paintings she selected.

Teaching at Sitka: Part 2

After my first oil and cold wax class at Sitka Center for Art and Ecology concluded on July 3, the staff at Sitka lugged all of my stuff from Smith Studio up to the larger Boyden Studio. I spent the evening getting set up for my second class. I love preparing the studio for teaching.

Evening of July 3: all set up for class to begin on July 5.

I spent July 4th enjoying the quiet of the Sitka campus. The office was closed, and no one was around, so I wandered, rested, and puttered in the studio. On July 5th, I was ready for the artists to arrive.

Distance view. I have three big tables to work on.

Like my last post, Teaching at Sitka – Part I, I feel that photos tell the story better than any words that I cobble together. I’ve made comments on each of the photos, so it tells a bit more about the week than just sharing the photos. But I will say, this group was hardworking, productive, energetic, talented, and supportive of each other. All the ingredients for a fantastic workshop.

Love the swaths of color, interrupted by marks.

Using wonky chunks of driftwood to make wonky marks.

Painting. Layering. Scraping. Contemplating.

More dots and such a great example of complementary colors.

We all thought this piece would make a fantastic album cover!

Margaret and her beautiful series using a limited palette.

I’m crazy for stripes and swaths of color – Carol nailed it.

I wanted to call this a “Carnival of Color,” but that’s just me.

So many ways to apply paint and make marks.

Applying paint to a very textural and three-dimensional piece.

An excellent example of a strata composition. And then there’s the color . . .

A beautiful series of lines, marks, and colors.

A lovely and simple abstracted landscape.

Pulling tape and revealing nine little paintings.

I love the solitude at the end of the day.

I have received such wonderful feedback from the artists in my class and I want to share two of the comments. Reading these inspiring and positive words make my heart swell and it is why I love teaching.

The first one from Carol:

I was so grateful to have had the opportunity to be a student in this class. It was amazing to meet Dayna in person, and to be present in her instruction. She provided a manual, many supplies, demos, readings, and many examples of her work in various stages. She was very engaged and provided such positive suggestions and constant energy. It was truly a great pleasure in an incredible setting. . . . I am still processing all that I learned and felt, and continue to feel so grateful. Thank you, Dayna. Terri

A Behind the Scenes Look

What a thrill it was to hang my show at Guardino Gallery a couple of weeks ago. I always like behind the scenes photos, so I thought it would be fun to share the highlights of the hanging on May 25, 2022. My show partner, Nadine Gay, was there with her husband, and my husband/studio assistant/business manager showed up and did a bit of everything to help get the show hung. It took six of us four hours to get the whole show hung.

I did an earlier post about Howard’s hanging of my 25-piece grid made up of individual 8×8 inch pieces, and you can see that post by clicking here.

The show is up through June 28, 2022.

Color – The Language of Dreams

Last fall, I received the email that always thrills and humbles me: I had been selected by Donna Guardino to have a show in the Main Gallery at Guardino Gallery in June of 2022. I didn’t celebrate too long, but instead studied the schematics of the gallery, the wall spaces to be filled, pulled together a batch of boards, and got to work.

The getting to work initially meant prepping the boards for painting. I knew early on that I wanted to pair art quotes with vivid colors, so right from the beginning these elements were prominent.

Moving boards, applying plaster, creating texture, sanding the plaster, writing on the plaster, sealing the plaster, writing more on the sealed plaster.

After all the boards were prepped (with massive help from my studio assistant), they were ready for paint to be applied.

This part of the process required many layers of oil paint mixed with cold wax. The dominant theme was layers of paint with the writing of quotes in between the layers.

Started out working on these two boards as a diptych.

Blotting some of the oil from R&F Pigment Sticks.

A quote on an early layer of oil and cold wax.

Getting my exercise working on big boards.

Applying oil and cold wax to create texture and design.

After several months of work, the pieces began to take shape. Some boards got scraped, some were finished, but then I decided they weren’t finished so more layers were applied. Writing was always present, but it was in the last six weeks of working that I began applying the words more boldly on the surface of the painted surfaces, and these turned out to be my favorite pieces.

R&F Pigment Sticks are like writing with lipstick.

“A Frenzy of Confessions,” 20×20 inches, plaster, oil, and cold wax by Dayna Collins.

And before I knew it, it was time to stop painting. The oil and cold wax needed time to dry, cure, and set before applying a final coat of cold wax. For the month of May, the paintings were in my studio, in the hallway, and in our bathroom just resting.

Applying a final layer of cold wax on the finished painting.

Today as I put together this post, all the paintings have been moved to the main floor of our house. They are being prepared to be wrapped and loaded into a van we had to rent to transport the 44 paintings (yes, 44!) to the gallery in the morning.

The show hangs on Wednesday, May 25, and opens on Thursday, May 26, with the opening reception from 6-9 pm; the show will be up through June 26. An added bonus is you can see (and shop) all the pieces by going to Guardino Gallery’s website.

A New Gallery For Me!

I’m delighted to share the news that my art is in a new gallery (and in a new state). I was invited by the owner of Fogue Gallery, Kerry Gates, to display my art at this lovely Georgetown gallery, located about four miles south of downtown Seattle. Georgetown is a lively and funky neighborhood, with several art galleries, numerous restaurants, eclectic shops, and the Georgetown Trailer Mall.

Last month, Howard and I made the drive north to the gallery to hang my art on a beautiful, freshly painted white wall, where we hung five of my oil and cold wax paintings.

The second Saturday of every month is Georgetown’s Art Attack, so we got a room at the Georgetown Inn and attended our first art walk. What a blast!

I got to see my friend Kathleen, who has been a longtime artist at the gallery, and she was gracious enough to introduce me to several of the other artists showing their work in the gallery.

Our oldest daughter lives in Tacoma and she drove up to show her support and cheer me on.

What an evening.

A tiny peek at Georgetown in case you’ve never been . . .

And my biggest thanks goes to my husband, Howard, who does ALL of the behind the scenes work like wiring, inventory, cataloging, schlepping, hanging, adjusting lights, and color coordinating his clothes to match my art.

The next Georgetown Art Attack is Saturday, March 12. I’ll be there, so stop by and say hello.

Colorful and Dynamic Abstracted Landscapes

It felt good to be back teaching at Sitka Center for Art and Ecology. Last year my workshop was cancelled due to the pandemic and I hadn’t signed up to teach this year because of the uncertainty with Covid. As cases began falling earlier this summer, Sitka’s Program Manager, Tamara, reached out to see if I would be interested in teaching a workshop in September. I jumped at the opportunity. As the workshop date approached, I watched as Covid cases once again surged. I was a little nervous about teaching, but Sitka had worked hard to provide a safe place with lots of protocols already in place. A couple weeks before my workshop, I asked Sitka to cap the class at eight students, to ensure that there would be plenty of space between tables in the studio.

Ready for class to start on Monday morning.

I could write about the week of art-making, the learning, the techniques, the epiphanies, the experimentation, the fearlessness, the laughter, the great energy, the hard work . . . . but instead I’m going to do a photo essay, which I think captures the essence of preparation and our week together.

The studio all set up and filled with so much promise.

Waking up on Monday morning in my little cabin in the woods.

A brand new gallon of Gamblin’s Cold Wax and a fresh pair of gloves. Yes, please.

Little scraps of paper as inspiration for colors, design, or just to jump start our imaginations.

Tam brought me flowers to match my hair.

Doing a demo using plaster (an added bonus).

Plaster demo was an added bonus, sharing how to seal the dried and sanded plaster.

Working, strolling, getting started for the day.

Loretta establishing her color palette for the day.

Loretta’s palette. I wonder why I love this so much.

Margaret fell in love with this wonky old roller.

The evening glow at the end of a day of painting.

Heidi getting the hang of making beautiful marks.

Paintings drying outside in the fresh air.

So many works in progress and the beautiful hum of activity.

I love working in the studio after class . . . .

Tam playing with Transparent Orange glazes. Kapow.

Doing a demo on mounting Arches Oil Paper to a cradled birch panel.

Group photo on a beautiful September afternoon.

Thank you to R&F Handmade Paints for donating pigment sticks and allowing everyone to go home with different colors.

Karla discusses some of her work on our final afternoon.

Margaret discusses some of her completed work.

Lynn discusses her work on our final afternoon.

Nancy does whatever is necessary to get the good shot.

Some of the work created during the week. . . . .

My heart is full and I am feeling grateful.

Guest Article: Abstract Art and How I Got There

I am pleased to offer an article written by guest Howard Collins. Howard is my spouse of 49 years and for the past year, the business manager for my art practice. Howard is my number one fan and his taste in art has evolved through the years, which prompted him to write this article for my blog.

Howard is an active participant in Dayna’s art practice, doing everything from administrative to schlepping.

“Ugh.” “I don’t get it.” “That’s weird.” “What’s the point?”

These words have admittedly come from me about abstract art.

My gradual transformation into appreciating and loving abstract works has taken time. Unlike the acquired taste for kombucha, which took real effort and perseverance, coming to love abstract art was more evolutionary than effort.

Howard checking out Dayna’s January, 2021 show, “Emotional Alignments” at RiverSea Gallery in Astoria, Oregon.

My early years of art appreciation was not as a result of education. It was more akin to “Me like, pretty,” when I saw something that caught my eye. But art has always been important to me regardless of my ignorance. My eye was attracted to precision, to realism, to clarity, and realistic portraits. In walking through museums, I was attracted to and spent as much time as I could looking at the details by various master artists. I always gave a short glance at modern, contemporary, and abstract art, but never much time and clearly little thought.

However, I subtly found myself spending more time looking at impressionist art and less realistic works. Monet blew me away. Here was realism without precision and detail, but beautiful nonetheless. This was a style of art without precision, but collectively, the strokes created beautiful compositions. My eyes began to look at the art of other impressionists and marvel at their beauty. Without warning I began to spend even more time looking at non representational art. My world of art appreciation exploded.

“Turns of the Kaleidoscope,” 30×40 inches, plaster, oil, and cold wax. One of Howard’s favorite pieces.

Dayna’s taste in art has always differed from mine. I began to look closer at pieces and artists to whom she was attracted. It stretched me to look at works that I previously would only glance at and rarely see. Vertical and horizontal colorful lines, unusual compositions, and figures in ways that had usually left me cold, now drew me in.

Howard spending time with six 12×12 pieces in Dayna’s “Turns of the Kaleidoscope” show at Salem on the Edge, May, 2021.

Modern art, cubism, angles, distorted figures all called me to view them in a way I had not felt before. I found Pollock, Kandinski and de Kooning, and a renewed interest in Picasso.

And therein lies the difference for me. I felt the art. An emotional response rather than mere appreciation of the art. Feeling what the piece was sharing with me, allowing the piece to talk to me. This was a moving experience and was totally unlike viewing realistic works. As strange as it sounds, listening as a piece talks to you is quite normal. Explaining how this works for me is difficult, but it is real. For me works of art talk to me through their composition, arrangement, color and form, which cause an emotional response in me.

My eye views abstract art and its perceived disorganization in different ways. At times I seek to make sense of the abstract lines, shadows and colors by seeing what I can see. At times I take in the whole of the abstract and free myself from my realism tendency; and then at other times, I pick a small portion to see what I can see and hear from the art. If I bring an attitude of openness, it allows the painting to express itself and for my eyes, brain, and emotions to react.

One of Howard’s favorites: “It Smelled Like the End of Summer,” 30×40 inches, plaster, oil, and cold wax, now hanging at The Independence Hotel.

I have to interject a side story here. We recently talked to the maintenance engineer at The Dundee Hotel. I told him Dayna was the artist of many of the works hanging there and his eyes lit up. “Did you do the pieces in the conference room?” he asked Dayna. “Yes,” was her reply and he said: “I have questions for you. I’ve studied them.” We walked to the three painting and he wanted to know if the images he saw in them were intentional. He saw birds, a cow, and other animals throughout her works. Dayna laughed and said “Don’t show me, I’ll never be able to not see them.”

Jim points out what he sees in three of Dayna’s abstract paintings, now hanging in the Board Room of the Dundee Hotel.

He was astounded to hear that Dayna had not intentionally included farm animals in her abstracts. He was trying to make sense of the abstract work though his interpretation of what he saw. By the way, he loved the works and his appreciation came from their composition and his interpretation, and not by the intention of the artist.

In my wasted youth, I thought Picasso was odd, irrelevant, and not really worth looking at. Even today not all of his pieces move me, but many do in a way I would never have thought possible. His humor is outstanding. I stood before a Picasso series created during the last months of WWII and I was laughing. They were optimistic, playful, joyful and irreverent. Yes, I was the only one laughing, but that’s me. They were simply magnificent.

Then there is the power of abstract. There is power in the stroke, texture, form, composition, and message. With or without a representational image, abstract work speaks and conveys a message. In part, the power comes from eliminating a common scene or picture for our minds to see. We are engaged to interact with the artists’ work. Just as letting our children play in a dusty pile of dirt, they create games, form roads, and valleys in their minds, which they translate into the dirt pile; just as we get to create from abstract art.

One of Howard’s favorites: “Fleeting Amazement,” 24×36 inches, acrylic on canvas, hanging at The Dundee Hotel.

Amazingly, the power of abstract art endures beyond a single viewing but continues over time and changes as we see different elements as we change. A piece of Dayna’s work, Singed by Fire and Light, hung in my office for three years until I moved my office home. Every day this piece spoke to me, every day it gave me something. Sometimes it spoke to me as a whole, drawing me deep inside; sometimes from a small section, sometimes from hints of color revealed from the sunlight pouring in the window. I miss this piece terribly. It now hangs beautifully at The Dundee Hotel, where I am writing this piece and I’ve literally hugged it.

Howard hugs “Singed by Fire and Light,” now hanging in The Dundee Hotel.

I still appreciate and enjoy realism and impressionism. But abstract art, with a big thank you to my wife, attracts me, speaks to me and fills me.

Artists Dayna admires:

Joan Mitchell, Helen Frankenthaler, Lee Krasner, Elaine deKooning, Cy Twombly, Robert Motherwell, Robert Diebenkorn

One of Dayna’s favorite artists: Helen Frankenthaler

Artists I admire:

Mark Rothko, Willem deKooning , Jackson Pollock, Picasso, Kandinski, Dayna Collins

Dayna and Howard at the opening of Dayna’s show at Salem on the Edge in May, 2021, “Turns of the Kaleidoscope.”

Artist in Residence At Home

I declared the past eight days an Artist in Residency, self proclaimed because my husband hopped on a jet for the east coast to visit his nieces and I had eight days to myself. I often hem and haw, do a little of this, a little of that, throw in a load of laundry, check out Instagram, read emails . . . . before heading to my studio. Last week I still did some of those things, but I made it a priority to get into my studio. It was a little easier last week not because Howard was gone, well, that was part of it, but because of the oppressive heat. My painting studio is upstairs in our 1926 house so the old furnace ducting doesn’t allow the air conditioned air to reach the second floor, making the upstairs pretty unbearable by noon.

So I made it my mission to get up there every morning and do something, anything. I had a productive week, getting a few things out of the way that I needed to do, but more than that, I painted. I painted just for the joy of painting and spreading paint.

On the first morning, I did a warm up using scraps of brown paper bags from my recent #100dayproject. It felt good to revisit being playful and loose while painting on unimportant little bits of paper.

Then I got to work. One of my projects was to simply gesso a stack of boards for a class I’m taking in July.

I spent a little time most days painting with acrylic on a repurposed canvas and recording my progress.

I prepped panels with plaster, which required multiple steps: acrylic, plaster, sanding, sealing . . . .

I wove these steps into my mornings, allowing things to dry overnight, ready to tackle the next day. One morning I did a reset in my studio, moving things around on my collection of rolling carts, causing a traffic jam at one point.

I was finally ready to pull out the oil and cold wax and start painting. Home again. . . . the smell of the wax, the feel of the materials as I mixed and spread the buttery concoction . . . .

Many layers of oil and cold wax were applied. It was a time of experimentation, to play, to try out different ideas. I finished a few, several are still in process. Some are on boards, some are on Arches oil paper.

I recommend an Artist in Residence . . . at home.