On My Journey Home

“On My Journey Home,” 30×40 inches, mixed media (acrylic, collage, oil, and cold wax).

We laugh and we laugh and there is nothing else like it in the world.

A beautiful opportunity presented itself last June and after giving it some deep thought, I accepted a commission to create a painting in honor of a loved one who had passed.  My collector (and friend) knew she wanted the piece to include collage and paint, but was open to how I would incorporate the two. We met at my house a couple of times to look through photos, passports, music, and ephemera, which all represented an interesting and rich life. I got a better idea of what she was thinking and proposed that I include words throughout the process, along with an initial layer of collage. It was agreed that the words and collage would imbue the piece with the spirit of this person, but the next layers would be an abstract landscape to reflect the color and vibrancy of a life lost too soon.

After I had a chance to go through the stacks of materials, we met again to make a few more decisions, giving me clarity of which original documents I would use to energize the painting. I decided I would create two paintings alongside each other so my collector would have a choice between which piece resonated with her the most. I chose to work on cradled panels:  24×36 inches and 30×40 inches.

Over several months, the two boards were painted, writing added, a second layer of paint, bigger and bolder words added, and then a complete layer of collage, with just snippets of the underlying words peeking through.

The process of alternating layers of acrylic paint with words continued, and eventually I began to focus on the composition, moving toward an abstracted landscape. I was pleased, but not satisfied, so in a fit of knowing I wasn’t finished, I took both boards to the back yard and using an electric sander, sanded the surface of both paintings, revealing the various layers as I sanded. Snippets of words, paint, and even some of the earlier layers of collage were revealed.

All sanded and ready for oil and cold wax to be applied.
Sanding in process. Gulp.
Collage, acrylic paint, and words sanded back to reveal earlier layers.
Collage, acrylic paint, and writing, sanded back to reveal earlier layers.
Layers, layers, layers. Sanded back reveal some of those layers.

It was around this time I decided I would switch mediums and move to applying layers of oil paint mixed with cold wax. The vibrancy of oil and cold wax and the rich luminosity of the materials seemed like the right choice. I took the smaller of the two boards with me to Sitka Center for Art and Ecology in early September, where I was teaching a four-day workshop in oil and cold wax. I taught during the day, and then when the students went home for the night, I went into the studio and worked on the 24×36 inch piece, building layers of oil and cold wax.

“Trying So Hard to Listen,” after converting to oil and cold wax while at Sitka Center for Art and Ecology.
Working on “Trying So Hard to Listen” while at Sitka Center for Art and Ecology on the Oregon Coast.
“Trying So Hard to Listen,” after converting to oil and cold wax.

When I got home, I continued to work on “Trying So Hard to Listen,” with more layers of oil and cold wax.

“Trying So Hard to Listen” in process after converting to oil and cold wax.

I completed the 24×36 inch piece on October 4, 2021, and titled it “Trying So Hard to Listen.”

“Trying So Hard to Listen,” 24×36 inches, mixed media (acrylic, collage, oil, and cold wax).

I had also started to add layers of oil and cold wax to the larger piece, “On My Journey Home.”

Early layers of oil and cold wax, “On My Journey Home.”
“On My Journey Home,” in progress.
Adding texture to “On My Journey Home.”
Work in progress.
Refining “On My Journey Home.”

The larger piece, 30×40 inches, was completed on my birthday, October 14, and I titled it “On My Journey Home.”

“On My Journey Home,” 30×40 inches, mixed media (acrylic, collage, oil, and cold wax).

My wonderful friend and collector decided she wanted both of the paintings and in mid December, the paintings were delivered and hung. It was such an honor to see them hanging, knowing that they each had multiple layers of images, words, and paint and reflected emotional energy, love, and memories of a life well lived.

“On My Journey Home,” in its place of honor above the fireplace.
“Trying So Hard to Listen,” in its bright, beautiful space.

A journey of discovering that I love people, I love myself, I love my secrets.

WORKSHOP: Colorful and Dynamic Abstracted Landscapes

I’m teaching in September! After a hiatus last year due to the you-know-what, and then the uncertainty of this year, I figured I wouldn’t return to teaching until 2022. Then I was contacted by Sitka Center for Art and Ecology to see if I would be available to teach a class September 6-9, 2021. With some minor calendar tweaking, I said yes.

My class, Colorful and Dynamic Abstracted Landscapes, is four days of working in oil and cold wax, in the beautiful Boyden Studio at Sitka, located in the forest at Cascade Head on the Oregon coast.

Here’s the description of the class:

Oil and cold wax is a versatile medium that creates rich luminosity and interesting surfaces. Applied with putty and palette knives, it feels like painting with whipped butter. Using our surroundings at Sitka as a jumping off point for playful abstraction, we will pump up the color and make bold, startling marks to create surprise and inspire awe. We will experiment with laying down swaths of paint, building texture, and scraping away. We will work intuitively and energetically on multiple pieces, exploring texture, color, layers, composition, and design. My goal is for you to return home with several completed pieces, several beginnings, and a refreshed and renewed enthusiasm.

Registration is now open for this four-day workshop, September 6-9. Here is link to the registration page. (Limited to 12 students; vaccines required.)

Just for fun, here are photos from previous years.

 

Come paint with me!

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.

 

“I’ve Got the Color in Me”

I returned Sunday night from teaching my four-day Abstracted Landscapes in Oil and Cold Wax at Sitka Center for Art and Ecology, on the Oregon Coast. It was a mountain top experience. I arrived on Wednesday afternoon to get settled into my cabin and to get the studio set up for class the following day.

Class started on Thursday morning and for four days we hardly came up for air. The days were a blur of demonstrations, techniques, inspirational readings, laying down paint, scraping it off, laying down more layers, breaking for lunch, more demos and more paint. There was a constant chatter in the room, students getting feedback from each other and from me.

On Friday afternoon, I presented my Art Talk.

On the third day, we talked about composition, color, and design elements, and everyone started to refine their pieces and move them toward resolution. Students were introduced to R and F Pigment Sticks, and enjoyed vying for their favorite colors.

 

Some glimpses of moments throughout the days:

 

Some of my demos during the week:

On Sunday afternoon, we did a casual Show and Tell Walkabout, where everyone talked about the process and shared a couple of their favorite pieces. Here are the Walkabout photos:

The following is a stream of photos illustrating some the beautiful work created by these energetic, fun, and talented artists. Feast your eyes on all this color:

We took a group photo on Sunday morning, no easy task, but we pulled it off after a few tries!

 

Waterlines Art Show: Making Headway

“Where the Blue is Deep and Soft and Silent,” 24×24 inches, plaster, oil, and cold wax.

I am happy to share the news that I’m having a show at Guardino Gallery in NE Portland. My show is titled Waterlines and I’ve been painting and preparing for almost a year, although I’ve been experimenting and painting waterlines for the past three years. My fascination with waterlines began as a child. Growing up as the daughter of a river rat on the Columbia River, plus time spent at my grandparent’s beach cabin on the Oregon Coast, I learned to love waterlines at an early age. In the summer of 2014, as I was floating in the Columbia River, I noticed the waterline on a boat. I was captivated by the beautiful colors and imagined it as an abstract painting.

“The Wind Stilled Itself,” 10x10x2 inches, plaster, oil, and cold wax.

I like to describe waterlines as: Where water meets an edge. A shoreline. The hull of a ship. The sand. Riverbanks. Sky. In exploring various forms of waterlines, I am especially interested in experimenting with the intersections, where water meets the land. I ask myself, “What’s happening at the horizon line? Turbulence or ripples. Calmness or agitation. What’s above, or, what’s below.

“The Turmoil of Raging Tides,” 12×12 inches, plaster, oil, and cold wax.

Drawing upon the flexibility of working with oil paint mixed with cold wax medium and sometimes R and F Pigment Sticks, I am able to create layers of color using palette and putty knives to apply, push, pull, and scrape the layers of paint to reveal and explore the rick complexity of water, land, and sky.

“Sweet Blue Rhythm,” 8×8 inches, plaster, oil, and cold wax.

The show opens Thursday, April 27 and runs through May 21st. The opening reception is Thursday, April 27th from 6-9 pm.

“Heat Waves Buckling the Air,” 11×14 inches, plaster, oil, and cold wax.

 

New Love: Oil Pigment Sticks

Little Landscapes (1)I have a new obsession: R and F Oil Pigment Sticks. I’ve been experimenting with them for several months, mostly creating little abstract landscapes, but recently I decided to take the plunge and start using them on bigger canvases. But back to the smalls for this post. I’ve used other brands of oil sticks, but nothing, NOTHING, compares to R and F for pigment load, creaminess, and application luciousness (I don’t even think that is a word!). The sticks are made from natural wax, linseed oil, and pigment. You can paint with them as is, you can use a palette knife, you can even mix colors on a palette and apply with a brush. Versatile and beautiful, that’s what they are.

Here’s a sampling from a series I’ve been working on. All of these are 3×3, 4×4, or 5×5 inches.

Little R&F Pieces (13)

Little R&F Pieces (14)

Little R&F Pieces (9)

Little R&F Pieces (11)

Little R&F Pieces (16)

Litte R&F Pieces (1)

Little R&F Pieces (10)

Litte R&F Pieces (2)Little R&F Pieces (8)Some of these Art Snippets are currently on display, through December, in my new gallery, Compass Gallery Cooperative, in Salem, Oregon. (I’ll share more about this exciting gallery venture in another post.) I regularly share new work on both Pinterest and Instagram, as well as my Facebook art page, so if you want to follow my art, take a look.

Little Landscapes (5)