#the100dayproject – COMPLETED

It is hard to believe that 100 days ago I embarked on a project where I committed to make a piece of art every day for 100 days. That’s a lot of days and a lot of art. I wrote about the project on Day 50, so if you want more info just click on the link.

Very first piece for #the100dayproject: acrylic painting on a scrap of brown paper bag.

In a nutshell, over the past 100 days I created art using scraps of brown paper bags. The mediums I used included oil and cold wax, acrylic paint, and collage. Some of the materials I used in the pieces: black and white photographs, Stabilo Woody Crayons, pencils, vintage ephemera, book scraps, paper frames, and charcoal. Techniques and designs included splatter painting, drawing, stripes, circles, stencils, scraping, tearing, gluing, squeegees, and mark-making.

Last piece for #the100dayproject: Acrylic painting on a scrap of a brown paper bag, with strips from discarded books, and a B&W photo found at a flea market.

What I learned during the past 100 days:

  • True art is in the doing and there is no shortcut for that.
  • I like to work fast to keep the inner critic quiet.
  • It was freeing to work on such an unimportant substrate as a brown paper bag.
  • I kept pushing myself to be bolder and to make more startling moves on my daily pieces.
  • It was amazing to create so many pieces, and although each piece was different, they created a unified body of work.
  • Some days it was this project that propelled me to go into my studio. Sometimes I stayed.
  • Several new ideas emerged from this project and I am letting them percolate for future projects.
  • A very exciting byproduct was how two of the paper pieces I created inspired bigger paintings!

Here is a random assortment of pieces from the second half of the project:

Right now I am celebrating the completion of the project . . . .

. . . . but I have some ideas brewing for moving forward with these pieces.

I have this wacky idea of offering some of these completed pieces for sale and giving first notice to those who are on my mailing list. Haven’t signed up yet? Want to? Here’s a LINK.

Turns of the Kaleidoscope: The Opening Reception

The entire show, pre-opening.

My show, Turns of the Kaleidoscope, officially opened on Friday night, May 7, from 5-8 pm. It was part of Salem’s First Friday Art Walk and the weather was perfect. With more people vaccinated and things slowly opening, there was a steady stream of friends and art lovers throughout the evening.

Masks down for a quick photo.

The evening was magical and I’m sharing a smattering of photos that give a peek into the celebration of the opening of my show (which runs through May 29th).

Arlene and Janet were first to arrive.
Melanie, gallery owner and master curator.
First visitors.

With Olivia. I was a high school mentor for Salem Art Association and Olivia was one of my students. She is now graduating from college!
Jo and Jim, fellow artists.
It was a lovely evening.
Paula and Jeff.
Social distancing in action.
Susan, Ruth, and Susan catch up.
Amy greeting visitors and Dave entering a drawing for a gift certificate.
Daughter Amy and Chris.
Longtime friends and fans of Pat Wheeler! Hi Pat.
Longtime friend Paul – I trained as a counselor under Paul many years ago.
It is fun to watch visitors interact with my art.
Alicia and her friend – Alicia’s hair matched a lot of my art!
Family.
A quiet moment to catch up.
A lively evening with a steady flow of visitors.
Family and three of the grandkid brood.
Orly and Dayna, kindred spirits. I love that we only live a short distance from each other . . . .
Art appreciator, who also happens to be my husband (and now my business manager).
Friends. Such a treat to finally be able to gather.
New art friends!
Timmy and Dayna!!
First Friday Art Walk at the end of the night.

Turns of the Kaleidoscope

Yesterday I dropped off 17 new plaster, oil, and cold wax paintings at Salem on the Edge for my show Turns of the Kaleidoscope. The pieces range in size from 12×12 inches, up to 30×60 inches, all created to be hung on 48 feet of wall space! When I began working on this series, I had trouble imagining filling that long, blank wall. But I did it with one painting to spare. (If you happen to see the show during the month of May, ask Melanie to see the 36×48 inch piece, Life’s Distractions and Enticements.)

Rather than blather about creating the pieces, I’m going to share my process with a series of photos, after all, this is a post about an art show. Here we go . . . .

Sealing the board with fluorescent paint.
Bucket of mud!
Applying plaster.
I love this stage of applying plaster.
Plaster being sealed.
A brand new gallon of Gamblin’s Cold Wax.
Early layers.
Working on a 12×12 inch piece.
Active studio.
Rolling wall comes in so handy.
New trend in makeup?
Painting the edges.
Works in progress.
Paying the price.
Sweet spot.
Doing a demo on Instagram about final coat of wax. (My IG: DaynaLovesArt)
Feedback and critique from Howard.
Peeling off the tape.
Sanding the backs of the boards.
Drying in the warm, dry air.
Choosing titles.
Signing paintings.
Preparing to photograph.
Photographing paintings in the perfect outdoor light.
Arrival with paintings!
The namesake piece, “Turns of the Kaleidoscope.”
Howard carries in “Baffled Amazement,” one of three 36×48 inch pieces.
Melanie sizing things up.
The beginning of the curating process by Melanie.
Arranging and rearranging . . . .
“Where does this go?”
Happy that the pieces are at the gallery and ready to be hung.

 

The Collaborative Body

I was invited to participate in The Collaborative Body in October of 2020, a really cool, socially distanced group project at the Salem Art Association Art Annex. Kathy Dinges, the Community Arts Education Director at Salem Art Association, describes the project:

The Collaborative Body is a dynamic group project in which 17 artists collaborated to transform the Salem Art Association’s Annex! The project is loosely based on various ideas in the surrealist game Exquisite Corpse, in which players would take turns drawing a portion of a body (head, torso, legs) on paper. The previous artist’s contribution was folded over and hidden until the end, when the paper was unfolded to reveal the “exquisite corpse” – the unusual, unplanned, and eclectic interpretation of the body. The ever-changing nature of this project is unlike the corpse­­– more like a series of interactions. It creates an interwoven, living piece of art, infused with the creative minds and practices of a variety of artists. Participating artists are Eilish Gormley, Rich McCloud, Corrine Loomis Dietz, Bonnie Hull, Erik Brambila, Grace Lundblade, Heidi Preuss Grew, Jessica Amos, Jo Hockenhull, Jim Hockenhull, Jodie Garrison, Katy Vigeland, Leo Cuanas, Cassandra Deatherage, Dayna Collins, Nicole Servin, and Tim Knight.

This project came together during covid19 in response to artists wanting to interact with other artists in a safe way, and encouraged playfulness, experimentation and collaboration.

Over the past six months, I made five appearances. I focused on doing photo transfers directly on the wall, which I embellished on subsequent visits (and other artists also added their own changes to the portraits). It was great fun and I recorded my experience through a series of photos.

On my first visit in early November, work on the walls had already started.

My plan for this first visit was to glue black and white portraits of Australian convicts onto the walls.

On my second visit in mid November, I went around to the portraits and using a wet sponge, began the process of removing the paper backing from the photocopies, leaving the inked image on the wall.

By the time I returned in early December, several of the portraits had been modified, embellished, and given new identities.

In January, I did some embellishing myself, adding bits of gold, crowns, and quotes.

I also pulled out paint and created some stripes of color on a blank portion of wall.

On my final visit the first of February, lots had happened.

And in no particular order, some photos from the many walls over the past few months.

What a great project, and it was a treat to be included.

Emotional Alignments: Opening Weekend

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bolting Brightly Ahead,” 12×12 inches, plaster, oil, and cold wax, by Dayna J. Collins.
“An Animating Surge of Adrenaline,” 30×30 inches, plaster, oil, and cold wax, by Dayna J. Collins.
“Despite the Current Situation,” 30×30 inches, plaster, oil, and cold wax by Dayna J. Collins.
“An Elegant Progression of Emotions,” 30×30 inches, plaster, oil, and cold wax by Dayna J. Collins.
“Staring Out at the World,” 36×36 inches, plaster, oil, and cold wax by Dayna J. Collins.
“A Canyon of Emotions,” 36×36 inches, plaster, oil, and cold wax, by Dayna J. Collins.
“A Semblance of Rhythm,” 36×36 inches, plaster, oil, and cold wax by Dayna J. Collins.

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

 

 

 

Now What?

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

                                                                                                                                                                                             Roger de Piles, 1676

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

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

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

 

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

Emotional Alignments: On the Home Stretch

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

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

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

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

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

The details for my upcoming show:

Emotional Alignments: an emotional response to 2020

RiverSea Gallery in Astoria, located on the northern Oregon coast

January 9-February 9, 2021

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

When a Deadline Looms

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

 

The Arduous Task of Preparing for a Show

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

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

 

Now the boards are ready for painting.

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

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

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

 

New Studio? Almost . . . . .

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

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

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

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

I took down all of my dolls.

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

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

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