Blog Hop, Part II--My Creative Process

A great blue heron, seen at  Jacksonville's Hanna Park

Somewhere in Michigan (a scene from memories)

     Thanks again to Mary Paquet for the invitation to contribute to the blog hop project by responding to four questions. I continue here with the two last questions (see my previous post for Part I). And don't miss Jo Castillo's post on Monday, Dec. 15; I "tagged" her to be next in the blog hop and know that you will enjoy her lively creative sense and fine art works.

3) Why do I create what I do?

     I have always enjoyed sewing, knitting, and crocheting, but did not believe I had any talent for the visual arts I so admired. My love for color and for the beauty of the natural world kept tugging me toward giving landscape work a try.

Castaway Preserve Cedar

Castaway Preserve Palms

     Finally, about 11 years ago, I signed up for a week-long class in acrylic painting at the John C. Campbell Folk School in North Carolina--expecting to enjoy playing with color and making creative messes, then to toss them and return home renewed and relaxed. Well, with an excellent teacher and time to practice and learn, I painted pieces that I really liked. No tossing occurred, and I was hooked! Now, with more workshops and lots more practice behind me, some pieces even sell. More importantly, I find continued delight in creating acrylic landscapes and learning more all the time. Another Folk School class this year started me in silk painting as well--a fluid, often unpredictable medium that gives me additional pleasure. Creating art is a whole new world for me and a rewarding pursuit in semi-retirement.

Jacksonville Beach

Jacksonville Beach

4) How does my creative process work?

     While considering this question, I used the little search box at the top of my blog and entered "painting process". Oh, my--I have written many posts that include discussion of the creative process in general and of the particular processes involved in individual paintings or silk scarves.

An early work--A favorite retreat near Warwick, NY

Silk scarf (using resist)

Silk scarf (natural blending--no resist)

     So, what are the common threads in varying processes for individual pieces? For processes in making the silk scarves, please see recent posts on that topic.
     
     Nearly all landscape paintings begin with a photo or a cluster of reference photos. Since I am endlessly fascinated with coastal North Florida scenes and want to convey the beauty and serenity I find in exploring out-of-the-way places in this area, I study angles of light, color (how to capture the incredible range of greens?!), and take notes to accompany the photos I take from various angles and distances.

     In the studio, the next considerations are composition (including tonal balance--the lights and darks) and color palette. In our area, good composition almost always involves leaving out some of the lush growth and sometimes other elements. Sketching--very roughly--a few possible versions of a scene, sometimes moving the point of view or focal point, helps me decide on a final version. Here are some previous posts that discuss composition.

     Choosing a limited number of colors helps both in unifying a painting and still gives an incredible range of possible hues. I don't try to match the actual scene so much as try to capture a feeling while staying in a realistic color range. Sometimes I go for low contrast and cool serenity, sometimes warmer, lively vistas. Again, here are some previous posts with more about color and palette for interested readers.

      Revision is the other most crucial piece of my process. The beauty of acrylics (especially for a learner like me) is that they dry quickly and cover well. I can paint over an area that does not please me, take out a superfluous bush, or whatever. Sometimes before a major change, I try it out by cutting a shape out of construction paper that approximates the change, tape it to the canvas, and squint to judge the effect on the composition.

     When wrestling with a piece that is not cooperating, it helps to remind myself that any work is a valuable learning experience (taking myself too seriously is fatal). At times, I put a painting away for a time and work on something else. A fresh look later on often yields a solution.

Question of the day: Do you enjoy hearing about the creative process or watching artists work? Or would you rather simply experience the art for yourself with no background or explanation given?

Growing--A New Home for a Painting, a Surprise Sale

"Look to the Hills", one of two versions of a lovely view at a conference center in Warwick, New York, has been displayed at Trends Home Decor on Hendricks Avenue in Jacksonville, Florida, for several months. Some of you may recall a post several months ago about the two versions I painted of this scene, based on a peaceful, renewing place we love. On Saturday, I phoned Lori Taylor, the Trends shop owner, a very sweet person and wonderful supporter of her artists, offering to bring in a new piece ("Spring Breeze", a Jacksonville Beach scene finished and posted on this blog a couple of months ago). Knowing that she has mounted an "angel wall" of special pieces for the season and that the shop is fairly full, I suggested that I could take one of my other paintings home for awhile to make room for the new one. That worked for her. A note: you can use the search box in the upper left corner of this blog to enter terms like "Trends Home Decor", "Look to the Hills", "Spring Breeze" or "paintings" for more photos and information.

She had decided to keep the Florida scenes I was showing in her shop and to rotate this New York landscape out for awhile, so we took it down. I set it aside on a chair while we chatted. Then, a couple came in to ask her about buying two brightly painted Adirondack chairs displayed out front (she sells unique home accessories and furniture in addition to moderately priced original art works). The woman came in to browse while her husband arranged payment, and she spotted my painting propped sideways on a chair. "Oh, I love that!" she said, "Don't tell me you just bought it, and I missed out." I was happy to say that is was still for sale, and we began to talk. Discovering I was the artist who painted "Look to the Hills", she described what it meant to her in more detail, how peaceful she felt it was, and how well it would fit in their bedroom.

Talk about serendipity! The pleasure of meeting the couple who took this piece home and of hearing how it spoke to them was delightful. And if I had taken it straight home instead of chatting with Lori for awhile, we would have missed each other, and that particular piece would not have found its new home.

Question of the day: Where would we be without the occasional perfectly magical connections and moments that sparkle in otherwise ordinary days?