There are a million excuses why I don't paint more often. They ricochet off the walls of my skull, streaking through the lobes of my brain leaving trails of guilt because I know they're false. I just have to prioritize my painting over my staring at a half finished painting, moaning about what isn't working, or worse, staring at my sketchbook thinking I should paint.
"Isn't that supposed to be fun?" is something my wife said to me a few months ago. Yes. Yes, it is. At least enjoyable. And it is, kinda. At this stage, painting is like a puzzle to me, trying to match a color or capture the right value relationship. It's also like learning a magic trick because when values click into place, there's suddenly an illusion of light, of depth, on the flat paper. And sometimes it's like a handful of puzzle pieces fall onto the tabletop and interlock by themselves. That's what happened to the clouds in the painting above. Specifically the red ones in the center.
I struggle with skies and clouds. You'd think they'd be easy, or at least forgiving. After all, they come in all shapes and textures. Who's to say what you saw and captured in paint? Well, they come in all shapes and textures and all of those reflect and absorb light in different ways. I had reached the, "Close enough. I'm done," stage of the painting. I even scanned it. I even posted it online. There are things about the cliffs that I like better but the distant mountains don't feel distant enough and the clouds don't feel like clouds.
Dave Block, an animator and director who worked on some of my TV shows and now an accomplished oil painter, pointed out the clouds fought the rest of the painting. The bright colors and business weren't needed. The sky should be simpler. That was excellent constructive criticism. Specific to the problem and suggesting a clear solution.
I hadn't applied wax over the painting, and knowing what was needed, I dove in once more. Besides the clouds, those damn distant mountains just had to be lighter! I always think I'm going to far when lightening or darkening, but after the paint dries it's never enough. But I do think I improved them.
As to the sky - understand that there are several layers of clouds there. As in, trying something, painting over it, softening edges, changing colors, wiping parts away, painting over it, over and over. I knew they weren't right but I hadn't been thinking about their relationship to the mountains. Dave' crit was one the money. I mostly just washed things down, adding bits of color here and there. Then some of those puzzle pieces joined up and they looked like ... well, they looked like clouds!
That was April 5. The first week of "Plein Airpril" when the internet challenge was issued to get outside and paint! A painting a day! I knew I wasn't going to do that, and I had a few character commissions to finish. But I thought I should try one a week. I knew I just need to paint more to improve. I have the theory in my head but not the practice with my hands! But five days later, I set an apple on a plate and painted!
I wish I had timed myself but I think I finished in two hours or under. I just started in freehand, no grids or tracing, that's why the plate is so wobbly. I don't clean my palette completely, I reactivate the dried gouache, using it like watercolor at first, then add fresh as needed. It sometimes muddies my colors. I was having trouble capturing the shadows on the plate when it hit me, "Duh. The sun is moving." But I finished up, added flowers from the hawthorne bushes, didn't fret that I wasn't perfectly capturing the leaves and learned plenty. That's what I was after.
Two days later, I went out again! I can do this! Looking for a subject, I zeroed in on the Monarch caterpillars who were busily denuding a milkweed plant. I had harvested seeds the year before, got them started in pots and and early butterfly obliged by planting a ton of eggs. Hoping to see clouds of Monarchs in the backyard this summer. Mindful of the lesson of changing light from the apple painting, and considering my subjects were moving. I snapped a picture.
I guess the key for me to finish a painting without laboring over it is to avoid taking a picture for reference. A photo is an excuse to worry over details, second guess decisions, wipe away and start again, etc.. I fought this off and on over days, trying to get the values right. Tried darkening the wall behind them to make the contrast greater. Of course, using a black colored pencil for the caterpillar detail made that a fool's errand. The black shouldn't have been black. I decided I'd learned enough about what not to do and decided to move on. I even waxed it to keep me from fiddling with it anymore.
I actually did another painting in the middle of the caterpillar piece but it is a gift and I can't post for fear of spoiling the surprise. But at least I'm painting more and the lessons I'm learning show up in the next piece!
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