Where the Sidewalk Ends

For whatever reason, I don't have a particular formula for creating paintings. Just because this painting happened this way this time doesn't mean that the next painting will.

Which incidentally makes it hard to remember how to paint. Presumably it would be easier to be formulaic. As it is now, it's both a thrill and a bother to start from scratch every single time I paint.

 

One of my strong suits, however, is mixing colors. Though, sometimes the colors in my paintings confuse people. They have more than once asked why something is thus and such color in a painting. When looking at a tree, for instance, I don't see a monochromatic gray trunk. I see reds, pinks, blues, and purples....yellow, green, orange....depending on the light and the kind of tree it is, a tree trunk can be any color on the color wheel on any given day.

Which brings up another point. In real life, there was a car parked at the end of the road, but I didn't "see" it so I didn't paint it. It was a blur. Also, the sun was muted, but bright enough that it was hard to tell where the sidewalk ended, or really what shape it was. So I painted what I saw, which looking at it now looks a little cattywompus. Oh well.

The weird thing is, this tree is just outside (west, looking south) the Menil Collection, and I really wanted to get the shape of the tree right because I figured people might recognize it, but there are no other context clues to identify it as such. Just to the right of this view in this painting is the main building of the Menil. This road separates the Collection from a lovely field where neighbors gather, spread blankets, have picnics, play music together, read books, or just visit. There's a red swing in the field where grown-ups and kids take turns swinging. In real life, in the background are a series of muted bungalows that I literally couldn't see for the trees. Well, that and my bad eyesight. On the plus side, I have excellent hearing. (ninja ears)