Daily Painting – 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.

Lexicon of Collage: Daily Project for 2023

I love having a daily art project, something quick and easy and not too complicated. Having this type of project gets me into my studio, even on days when I only have a little bit of time or when I’m not feeling like painting or doing something big. Last year I kept a daily journal where I filled the pages with words, collages, and small paintings. One year I did a painting a day in a series of spiral bound journals. For this year, I am creating a collage each day and I have titled my project Lexicon of Collage. For my substrate, I am using matboard cut into 4×6 inch pieces (I ordered the matboard in a size of my choosing from Matboard and More, a company I have used for a lot of projects over the years).

For most of the collages I make, I use pieces of my hand painted papers, which I create using acrylic paint on various papers, i.e., drawing, deli, tissue, and paper bags. I divide these papers by color, making it easy to find just what I need.

When I’m ready to create a collage, I reach for my painted papers, text and typography, bits of ephemera, scraps from old books, and random pieces of collected papers. I audition the papers and when I have a composition I like, I start gluing using Golden semi-gloss soft gel medium.

Laying out a grid collage and preparing to glue.

Once I have glued down my collage material, I place a piece of wax paper over the collage and then a stack of heavy books on top (or a bag of rice), and let it dry for several hours (or overnight). Once the glue is set, I often have raggedy edges that I like to trim using an Xacto knife. Once the collages are trimmed, I apply a thin coat of Golden’s semi-gloss soft gel medium, the same medium I use for gluing the papers.

There are several benefits to having a daily project. As I mentioned above, this type of project gets me into my studio. But even more than propelling me to make art daily, it pushes me to experiment and play with a variety of compositions, unusual color combinations, and ways to create little pieces of art that hopefully take my breath away, that cause a gasp of delight, all the things that I want to happen in my bigger paintings. A bonus: I have already used some of my collages as inspirations for my paintings.

Another fun addition to this project is how I share my completed collages. About once a week, give or take, I share a grouping of collages I have created. I started inviting friends (and family) to be my guest collage flippers. I videotape my invited collage flipper and share the videos on Instagram. Here are some of my invited flippers.

Guest collage flipper: daughter Melissa.

Guest collage flipper: granddaughter Gabriella

Guest collage flipper: Stephanie Brockway

Guest collage flippers: son Scott and grandson Harrison.

For more regular updates on this project, follow on me on Instagram where I regularly post videos of my guest collage flippers and/or sign up for my monthly newsletter, where I do periodic updates about my Lexicon of Collage project.

My stack of collages as of the end of February.

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.

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

Teaching at Sitka: Part 1

I had the privilege of teaching two classes at Sitka Center for Art and Ecology. The first, June 30-July 3, was in the smaller of the two studios at Sitka, Smith, and with ten students, it was the perfect space.

I taught two classes at Sitka, the first class was in the smaller, lower studio and the second class was in the spectacular upper studio, Boyden.

Because I was teaching two classes and they were back-to-back (I had the 4th of July off between the two classes), I got to stay at Morley House, which was a first for me. I loved this space!

This is where I got to stay for ten days: Morley House.

Now to the good stuff. The class. I could babble on about it, but instead I’m going to share photos – a fraction of the photos I took, but it gives a good look into our four days of art making. The group was talented, energetic, spirited, and hard workers — and they wanted to know if they could sign up for my 2023 class on the final day!

Brand new overalls! Soft fabric . . . and WHITE. I’m ready.

How I set up the oil paints I bring for the class to use.

An old wallpaper roller I bought at a flea market in Europe years ago was a huge hit.

Blotting with tissue paper, lifting paint, and moving paint around.

Carol experimenting with using a solvent to create drips.

Colorful, powerful, and fascinating example of a grid composition.

R&F Pigment Sticks – making a monoprint.

A beautiful, finished painting. Carol started this one in a class with me a few years ago, brought it with her, and brought it to a beautiful finish.

I love the variety of color and marks in this series.

This is a monoprint of the original oil and cold wax painting (Marc let me have the monoprint and it is hanging in my studio).

Ripping off tape to reveal small beauties.

And then I rested.

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: 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.

New Year, New Journal

I have too many flippin’ journals all going at once, so what am I thinking starting another one. I am a sucker for journals. At the current time I am actively working in several. Follow me . . . .

Color Journal: A place to keep track of colors I like, the brands of colors because not all colors are the same, what happens when certain colors are mixed together, formulas of colors I like, and the Pantone color of the year (this year it is Very Peri).
A small painting journal where I have combined paintings with art quotes on the opposite page. This has been in process for the past couple of years.
A vintage book where I wipe off excess paint from my palette, clean off my brushes on the pages, glue in leftover tidbits, and experiment with quick ideas that pop into my head.
Visual Journal: This 9×12 inch journal is my hard-working jack of all trades journal. I take notes in it when I take a class, record ideas for a painting or a show, sketch out ideas, and take notes at art meetings. This is my official visual journal and has been a key part of my art practice for many years. The journals are lined up in my studio with little tags indicating the dates covered in each journal.
Collage Journal: An old composition book where a student kept notes and did engineering types of drawing, and also glued in tests and notes. I use this journal to create collage compositions right over the writing and drawings. The glued in papers I have torn out, but gluey residue peeks through on many of the pages.
Junk Journal: I created this big chunky book out of hundreds of pieces of old papers, collage materials, and ephemera, and created three signatures (or was it four? the journal is thick). The junk part was my use of junky papers, but then I have gone back in and embellished the pages, fleshing out more complete collage compositions. I have been working on this one for months!
Covid Journal: When Covid hit in full force in early 2020, I took one of the junk journals I had made and recorded milestones and statistics for the first full year of our lockdown. Every once in a while I will go back in make a note or update the statistics. Sadly, I am entering the third year of entries.
Travel Journal: Anytime we take a biggish trip, I maintain a travel journal. My most recent travel journal was done in September when we spent a couple of weeks in New York. I used a handmade artist journal and cut and glued paper and ephemera from our daily excursions.

Which brings me to January, 2022, and the decision to what I plan to do regarding a journal in the new year. In 2019 I committed to painting a painting a day in a 9×9 inch journal and somehow I pulled it off. Sometimes I was playing catch up, but for the most part keeping that painting journal got me into my studio. Every. Single.Day. (And it took seven journals to get through the year.)

A few of my favorite paintings from my 2019 journals:

In deciding what kind of journal would be most enjoyable, I flashed back to 2012 when I used “The Open Daybook,” a perpetual calendar book, edited by David P. Earle. I remember buying this big book of a journal at Monograph Bookwerks (fine art books, objects, + ephemera), located in NE Portland, and I was so excited to use it to record what I did every day for a year. Each page has original art by 365 artists (actually 371 as some worked in groups), so the imagery and graphics were always a treat.

A few of my pages from 2012. My entries were short and sweet, but really captured in detail how I spent my days.

That year of record keeping got me to thinking about what kind of journal I would keep now, ten years later. I keep a lot of visual journals (obviously, from the list above), and I have a calendar on my desk. But what if I kept my own sort of Daybook, a cross between what I did today, but coupled with a sprinkling of collage, dabs of paint, imagery, ideas, quotes, and what is on my mind (now there’s a scary thought). I liked the sound of this combination and I just happened to have the right journal for the job (cue the dramatic music), a chunky beast of a journal, built by Leather Village craftspeople.

I wrote a private preamble on New Year’s Eve, then jumped in on January 1st.

I am off and running.

Painter’s Tape Abstract Art

In my last post, Little Paintings, I shared how I painted small oil and cold wax paintings on Arches Oil Paper by taping small squares of the paper to a large piece of newsprint or butcher paper. I briefly mentioned how I remove the tape . . . . this post is what I do with the tape that I removed.

Over the past couple of years, I have saved and collected all of the pieces of tape I have removed from the little taped down paintings. (Do you think I’m a bit compulsive? Or obsessive?)

I am always amazed by the beautiful little abstract paintings on the pieces of tape, sometimes even wishing I could paint a larger painting using the pieces of tape as inspiration. . . . and then inspiration struck. What if I used the strips of tape to create an abstract painting? I like stripes, I like color, I like abstract, and I like recycling and reuse. I started auditioning the strips of tape. Before too long, I had a pleasing arrangement and composition and I started gluing down the strips.

For my first piece, I mounted the tape pieces onto a 4×10 inch cradled panel.

And hung it in our brightly colored kitchen at the House of Color in Astoria.

By then I was smitten so I forged ahead and taped down strips of color onto four 6×6-inch cradled panels.

“Profound Harmony,” 6×6 inches, oil and cold wax on white painter’s tape, mounted to cradled wood panel, by Dayna Collins.

“Deep Knowledge,” 6×6 inches, oil and cold wax on blue painter’s tape, mounted on cradled wood panel, by Dayna Collins.

“Changing Emotions” 6×6 inches, oil and cold wax on white painters tape, mounted on cradled wood panel, by Dayna Collins.

“Small Curiosities,” 6×6 inches, oil and cold wax on white painter’s tape, mounted on cradled wood panel, by Dayna Collins.

These four pieces have been added to my online shop and are $100 each (which includes shipping in the US).

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.