Art Shows – Dayna J Collins

A Year of Transformation

2024 was a year of transformation, in my art life and in my personal life. On the personal front, in November we sold our 1926 vintage home in Central Salem and moved into a 1960 home in suburbia. We miss the vibrancy of inner city living and the close proximity to downtown and the waterfront, but we don’t miss the constant noise of traffic or the sound of shopping carts being rolled down the middle of the street in the wee hours of the morning. On our first night in our new house, Howard said, “I can’t sleep, it’s too quiet.” We have adjusted and we’re just a ten-minute drive to downtown.

One of the first things we did once we got settled into our new house, was to build a painting studio. We went with a Tuff Shed (click HERE to see lots of photos and to read the story of the build), and it has worked out perfectly. My studio is just 16 steps from our house, close enough to slip out wearing pajamas, but removed enough to have solitude. My beautiful new studio was completed the end of January, just two months after moving into our new house.

As for teaching, I had decided in 2023 that I didn’t want to teach very much in 2024, just at Sitka Center for Art and Ecology in the summer, something I have done for many years. But things didn’t work out as planned. I ended up teaching the most I had ever taught; twice at Sitka and three times at the Art Department. I also did something I didn’t imagine doing,: I began teaching online thanks to an invitation by Martha, the owner of Winslow Art Center.

Here’s a summary of my 2024 teaching:

I developed a new class, which I titled Building Creative Muscles. I taught it at the Art Department in May and again in November, and it got added to the Sitka teaching schedule in July.

Another new class I developed this year was Lexicon of Collage. This class came out of my one collage a day in 2023, which I called my Lexicon of Collage project. I launched this new class at the Art Department in Salem in April (stay tuned for news about where I will be teaching this class in 2025).

I taught my annual five-day oil and cold wax class at Sitka in August, Wild and Free Abstracted Florals, and it was fun to teach a different subject. The class was filled with vibrant, fearless, creative artists, having fun making abstracted florals using the versatile medium of oil paint mixed with cold wax. Their paintings were stunning.

The biggest addition to my teaching schedule came with the addition of doing online classes through the excellent Winslow Art Center. Throughout the year I did some small online classes: an Art Chat (about my art journey) and a Technique Takeaway (oil and cold wax) in May, and another Technique Takeaway (making a collage using book parts) in October; and a couple of free to students short classes, one in October and another this month.

In July, I did my first official online class, Wild and Free Abstracted Landscapes in Oil and Cold Wax, and it was a great success. Winslow takes care of registration and has an excellent platform for watching the classes through Zoom, as well as a private classroom for interactions with and between students. I did a second class, Curious Untamed Blooms in Oil and Cold Wax in October. My biggest fear about teaching online has always been the technology, but Martha and her team are intimately involved with all aspects of the technology part, holding my hand and helping me solve any problems that popped up.

Outside of teaching, I was invited to serve as a juror for the biennial Word and Image show through the Hoffman Center for the Arts. It was an honor to serve as a juror, but it meant I wasn’t able to participate in the show, a favorite of mine, but I will be submitting my proposal when it is held again in two years.

One of the highlights of my year was having a show at RiverSea Gallery in July, Curious Untamed Blooms. I spent six months painting abstracted florals, pushing the design, color, and composition in fresh ways. By the time the show was ready to hang, I had painted 34 pieces: four were 20 x 20, with five 12 x 12s, several 8 x 8s, and the rest 6-1/2 x 12 inches. It was a beautiful affirmation of my work when 12 pieces were purchased from the floor – meaning, the pieces were leaned up against the wall in preparation for the hanging. What a way to open a show. In the end, I sold 28 of the 34 pieces. My heart is still fluttering.

On a more personal note, I took a couple of classes at Sitka. One in June with Ken Marunowski, Painting the Abstract Impressionist Landscape and Abstract Sketching and the Creative Process in September with Lauren Ohlgren. Both were excellent classes and enrichened my own painting and drawing life.

“With Gracious Strength,” Curious Untamed Bloom by Dayna Collins

My personal transformation began in July after my show opened at RiverSea Gallery. In looking at photos of myself, it hit me how much weight I had gained since 2023 and especially through all the stress of packing for our move, having a gigantic garage sale to downsize so many years of collections, and then the move itself. So when I looked at my photos after my opening, I had a light bulb moment that I wanted to make some changes; they weren’t big changes, but I reevaluated what I was eating and trimmed down some of the types of food I was eating (POPCORN being a huge delight and culprit), and I upped my daily steps (I was already averaging 12,000 a day, but I increased it to 14,000 a day). But the biggest change I made was joining a Club Pilates that was four blocks from our new house. It was the biggest game changer. I had heard of Pilates since forever, but had never done it and didn’t even know what it really was. I learned that Club Pilates offers Reformer Pilates, which I absolutely had never heard of. Reformer Pilates involves equipment, (and some say the reformer bed is a torture bed). I took a beginner class, and I was hooked. I love the Flow classes, which are whole body workouts, focusing on core work and stretching, weights are involved, as are a lot of springs. If you don’t know what Reformer Pilates is, just Google it to get an idea.

So here I am five months later, down 33 pounds, and feeling the best I have ever felt. My word for 2024 was TRANSFORMATION and it was a year of transformation. In my art because of my teaching schedule and my shift to abstracted florals, and in my personal life because I looked at myself and knew I wanted a transformation.

My word for 2025?

Radiance.

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.

Abstracted Flowers

Somewhere during the past couple of months, I decided to revisit painting abstracted flowers. I was prompted to do this series when I was looking at paintings that weren’t working for me. That isn’t unusual, I often cover over paintings and create new compositions. But the idea of painting flowers sprang up when I decided to cover the old paintings primarily with black paint, leaving a hint of the underpainting, and creating a wonky vase of long-stemmed flowers.

I have painted flowers in a variety of iterations, and I always enjoyed what I created. These are some of the older paintings that have long since sold.

“According to Sylvia Plath, the tulips are too excitable,” by Dayna Collins

“According to Sylvia Plath, the tulips should be behind bars,” by Dayna Collins

Fast forward to my current series. Many of these new paintings are 6×6 inches and were created for the Small Works show at Salem on the Edge. They proved to be popular, and most of the flower pieces sold within the first few days of the show. It was such a heartwarming affirmation of doing this new body of work. Here is a peek behind the scenes of my process:

And then photos of some of my new work:

“Hiding Places,” 6×6 inches, oil and cold wax on cradled panel, by Dayna Collins

“Ultimate Serenity,” 6×6 inches, oil and cold wax on cradled panel, by Dayna Collins

“Faintly Lit Night,” 6×6 inches, oil and cold wax on cradled panel, by Dayna Collins

“Avalanche of Thoughts,” 6×6 inches, oil and cold wax on cradled panel, by Dayna Collins

“An Oasis of Quiet,” 12×12 inches, oil and cold wax on cradled panel, by Dayna Collins

“Wondrous Generosity,” 6×6 inches, oil and cold wax on cradled panel, by Dayna Collins

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

“Wild Anticipation,” 12×12 inches, oil and cold wax on cradled panel, by Dayna Collins

“Familiar and Comforting,” 6×6 inches, oil and cold wax on cradled panel, by Dayna Collins

“Howling Joy,” 6×8 inches, oil and cold wax on cradled panel, by Dayna Collins

“Vibrancy and Optimism,” 12×12 inches, oil and cold wax on cradled panel, by Dayna Collins

There are a few abstracted flower paintings on my website, which you can find by clicking this LINK.

Because I loved these flowers so much, I had notecards printed so I can write thank you notes to those who purchase my paintings.

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.

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.

The Evolution of a Scavenged Painting

About ten years ago I discovered this 25×49 inch framed painting on canvas at a local Goodwill; I think I might have paid $25. I didn’t buy it for the painting, but as an inexpensive canvas to repurpose for my own art. The canvas got tucked away in our shed, and I forgot about it. Last year I rediscovered it and took a closer look. It was signed on the back by M. Runyan and it had been painted in 1985. I asked my artist friend Bonnie Hull, who is familiar with many artists in Salem over the years, if she knew of the artist, but the name didn’t ring a bell. So I decided I would give the painting a makeover. And as it turns out, another makeover, and then another until I was finally satisfied. For now, anyway.

I opened a big bucket of gesso and began ~~covering~~ erasing the six starred bottles (I kind of cringed and then cried a bit).

And then I began applying paint.

Life got busy and once again I abandoned this canvas. The bottles were gone, gesso applied, and some bands of color slapped on. Not sure where I stored the canvas, probably in the upstairs hallway, but it got tucked away until last July when I pulled it out again. This time I started adding swaths of black, green, pink, and burgundy.

It was at a stopping point and I hid it away again for many months. Until two weeks ago when we packed it into our car and drove to Astoria. I thought maybe it would look nice in our House of Color since we were in need of a piece of art above our couch.

Nope. It didn’t look good at all and I didn’t even like the painting anymore, so instead of dragging it home, I took it upstairs to my studio and painted some swaths of wild color.

It was fine, kind of fun, definitely colorful, but it lacked any kind of KAPOW, so back upstairs it went. I pulled out more paint, began spreading, scraping, and marking.

It was finally what I had wanted all along (but didn’t know what that was until it appeared). Here is the final painting and some close ups of different areas.

“A Courageous Act of Flamboyance,” 25-1/2 x 49-1/2 inches, acrylic on canvas, sealed with cold wax, and a painted frame, by Dayna Collins.

But guess what? I needed a big painting for Fogue Gallery in Seattle, so this finally finished pop of color piece of art will be heading north on Thursday and be on display and for sale just in time for the Georgetown Art Attack on Saturday, April 7.

And the wall above our couch is once again empty and in need of art.

TRACES: Band of Artists Collective

Finally, our long overdue and postponed group show, Traces, is now on view at the Salem Art Association Annex Gallery. During the two-year wait for things to reopen and get our show rescheduled, we changed our name from the Salem Art group to the Band of Artists Collective, but we’re the same group of talented artists. We’ve been plotting and planning for this show over the past few months, and got together in February to make final preparations (and take a very serious group photo).

Band of Artists Collective, February, 2022.

The title of our show Traces, could be interpreted however we chose, but our group show statement explains it in more detail:

Like messages to the future and from the past, the traces of nine different paths converge here in the Annex Gallery this spring. As mark makers of varying sorts, these nine artists of the Band of Artists Collective use the indications of their existence as persons in their art work. An interest in superimposing experience, idea, image, and color onto canvas, paper, wood, and fabric is the shared language of any group of artists, this group included.

Artists understand the term palimpsest as way of reusing materials and ideas, of scraping an older work away while leaving a trace behind, a shadow, a nuance of an earlier idea. As women, as artists, as gardeners…as daughters and mothers and friends, we find the trace of others stamped on our minds just as we leave a shadow behind.

Although there is always a narrative somewhere buried in an artwork, it is less necessary to know each individual story than to sense the traces that appear in the work. Bring your own eyes to the work displayed here, perhaps finding a trace of communication.

Earlier this week, art work was dropped off. The day I dropped off my work, Kay was dropping off her pieces and Robin was busily hanging Katy’s work, while Kathy was trying to keep track of all of the final details.

Fast forward to Thursday. I was out for my weekly walk with Joni, and we decided to swing by the Art Annex to see the show. It was so nice to walk into the space and have it to ourselves. It’s a stunning show.

The work for each of the nine artists:

Salem Art Association prepared a beautiful color brochure, which includes a photo of everyone’s work along with individual artist statements.

Here is what I wrote for my Artist Statement – even before I had created my body of work.

Mixed media is often a wild goose chase down a twisted rabbit hole. It involves a series of what if questions and actions. What if I glued this down, drew a line over the top, added some paint, glued something else down, and then took a sander to it to reveal the first layer of collage, added more paint, then glued something else down, wrote with a wax crayon, then started over?

It is all a grand experimental mystery, which somehow all comes together one way or another. This project fits perfectly with my 2022 word of the year: RISK. I am taking a risk working in a new way, one I have been intrigued with for several years but somehow fear held me back: How can I cover a beautiful collage with paint? And yet covering it, excavating, concealing, and revealing is what I love doing and something I do in paint all the time.

Creating my mixed media pieces is a messy affair, a wild cacophony of cutting, tearing, drawing, gluing, painting, writing, scraping, sanding, layering, revealing, and varnishing. My pieces reflect my curiosity, playfulness, irreverence, and my love of texture, history, and a touch of surprise.

The opening reception was held tonight, it was a marvelous gathering of artists, art lovers, friends, family, and supporters.

With Kathleen Dinges, the curator of our show.

The show runs from March 4 – April 23, 2022.

TRACES: My Personal Work

The marriage of paint and collage was much tougher than I imagined. I have been a painter for years, I have been a collagist for even longer, but putting the two together has been a painful labor of love . . . . and finally came together.

I had been moving toward combining paint and collage over the past couple of years, trying to figure out a way of adding paint over collage, and collage over paint, discovering the right balance of revealing and concealing. Adding collage to a board is easy for me, but I never wanted to cover it up with paint. Or I would create a collage, feel brave, add paint, but before I knew it, every bit of the collage was covered up.

My art group, the Band of Artists Collective, has a show opening tonight and I was determined to have my mixed media pieces reflect the successful pairing of collage and paint. I experimented in a small journal, doing quick collages on a series of pages. But I liked the collages and didn’t want to mess them up with paint. Reminding myself that my word for this year is RISK, I spread some paint over a collage. I liked the painting, but the collage was gone. What the hell.

It came time to submit images for our upcoming show. I didn’t have any completed pieces and what if I never found my way to adding paint to collage (or collage to paint). So I submitted photos of two 12×12 inch paintings that were somewhat in the style I hoped to complete, although the work did not have one bit of collage in them.

“An Underwater Dream,” 12×12 inches, acrylic with cold wax, by Dayna Collins.

“A Still Pond on a Humid Day,” 12×12 inches, acrylic with cold wax, by Dayna Collins.

But the challenge was mine, no one else knew I was attempting to pull off this arduous (to me) task. The fear grew, and I became paralyzed. Until I decided to push through. The opportunity came in the form of spending two weeks in Palm Springs in late January. We had rented a modern condo with a large dining room table (that was my main criteria in choosing our rental). I loaded up 12 12×12 inch flat birch panels, three working journals, two big bags of acrylic paint, a gigantic bag of collage materials, and a satchel of art supplies. I claimed the table (and the kitchen bar, and the kitchen prep counter, and sometimes the floor) as my work space. We were in Palm Springs to celebrate Howard’s birthday and his retirement, so he was there to golf. I was there to paint and collage. It was a beautiful win/win situation.

Daily, I worked in my journals.

I glued down collage onto the 12 boards.

Then I sidetracked myself to create a fresh batch of painted collage papers (that process is worthy of an entire blog post!).

And then I did what I had been hesitant to do. I started combining paint and collage in any way I could think to do it. If I did too much painting, I just added more collage. Sometimes I painted too much on purpose and glued collage on top. Sometimes I painted over the collage, revealing tiny bits of the collage beneath the surface. I sanded, I scraped, I reapplied paint, and added more collage.

I started to find my rhythm and I was having fun.

A body of work came together. I had started with the idea of creating six pieces for the show, and then it grew to nine. At the end of our two weeks in Palm Springs, I had twelve boards with potential. After we got home, I fine tuned a few of the panels and I had 12 that were show worthy – a beautiful grid.

Here are the 12 that are in the show.

“When Possibilities Seem Endless,” 12×12 inches, acrylic and collage on flat birch board, mounted on a block, by Dayna Collins.

“This Big Life,” 12×12 inches, acrylic and collage on flat birch board, mounted on a block, by Dayna Collins.

“Secret Confessions,” 12×12 inches, acrylic and collage on flat birch board, mounted on a block, by Dayna Collins.

“Robust Vulnerability,” 12×12 inches, acrylic and collage on flat birch board, mounted on a block, by Dayna Collins.

“Nervous Curiosity,” 12×12 inches, acrylic and collage on flat birch board, mounted on a block, by Dayna Collins.

“Luminous Vulnerability,” 12×12 inches, acrylic and collage on flat birch board, mounted on a block, by Dayna Collins.

“In the Presence of Mystery,” 12×12 inches, acrylic and collage on flat birch board, mounted on a block, by Dayna Collins.

“Dance of Distraction,” 12×12 inches, acrylic and collage on flat birch board, mounted on a block, by Dayna Collins.

“Blurred Boundaries,” 12×12 inches, acrylic and collage on flat birch board, mounted on a block, by Dayna Collins.

“A Lending Library of Wonders,” 12×12 inches, acrylic and collage on flat birch board, mounted on a block, by Dayna Collins.

“A Deeper Sense of Belonging,” 12×12 inches, acrylic and collage on flat birch board, mounted on a block, by Dayna Collins.

“A Chorus of Memory,” 12×12 inches, acrylic and collage on flat birch board, mounted on a block, by Dayna Collins.

Traces opens tonight . . . . next up, my blog about the show.

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.

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.

“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.