Novemberish

After an internal debate over whether to mention this or not, I decided to go ahead, because it may never happen again........ After lunch at El Rey on Sunday (mmmm, fish and veggie tacos), the Amazing Reese and I were on our way to the parking lot when someone recognized me and said, "Hey! You're Sarah Hazel, the artist who painted her shoes, the pink Chucks!" Then he turned to the man next to him and described the Pink Chucks painting in surprising detail, mentioning that he had seen the actual shoes (on me) and the shoe painting at the Betz Gallery 12" x 12" exhibit the week before. Sadly for him, I was wearing boots at the time, because it seemed like he really wanted to show the guy my pink Chucks, the ones that are usually on my feet.

Also, this coming Friday night, November 19th, my painting Angel Oak Tree will be in Gambol, the Art League Houston's 2010 Juried Member Exhibition. Out of over 500 works submitted, fifty four artists' works were selected by juror Miranda Lash, Curator of Contemporary and Modern Art, New Orleans Museum of Art. Whew. I'm extremely honored that Angel Oak Tree was chosen.


Then, bright and early Saturday morning the 20th, (which just so happens to be my 47th birthday,) I'll be participating in Via Colori, painting the streets of downtown Houston for the fifth year in a row. (It's a fundraiser for The Center for Hearing and Speech.) The best thing about this year is that I've opted to work on a smaller square. In the past, the square size I've worked on has been 10' x 10' (aka 100 square feet -- exhausting work) and this year's offering will be 6' x 6'. It's only 36 square feet! Yipee! As usual, one of my very own paintings will be used for inspiration for the street painting. Haven't decided for sure which painting yet....it's a toss up between two selections....I'll probably practice on the driveway this week to see which one presents well on the street.

Self Portrait - 2010

To those of you who have never met me, this is exactly what I look like.

But to everyone else, here's the thing.....in an effort to "tell stories" on canvas, sometimes "facts" get exaggerated. It's not exactly true that my hair is this pouf-y, though on humid days like today, it sure feels this way. And my hair is not really this pinkish purple mishmash. (It's mostly white.) And my face isn't really this small, though sometimes it feels like my hair overwhelms it. But my eyes really are this big. Really, they're huge. It's just that normally they are on a larger face, so in this painting, they seem larger ....than normal. And, my real skin tones actually do lean toward this yellowy orange.

There's a large mirror right behind the desk in the studio. I had to lean to the left a bit to see myself, which is why I'm leaning in the painting. And, well, no more excuses.


OK, one more.....the light in the studio is artificial, because the sun was going down, so the color is a little wonky in the photo, but not by much.

It's 14" x 18" oil on linen.

Story Telling 101

While on our bike ride yesterday, Anna blurted out, "You should try painting the way you tell stories."

"What?"

Apparently I had just finished telling a story, perhaps exaggerating a tad bit, and Anna said that it might be good if I tried to embellish paintings the same way I embellish stories. Add some flourishes here and there....perhaps rearrange the "facts" to suit the "story" of the painting.

That Anna! She always has had brilliant advice for me when it comes to art. I've been wondering how to exactly find my voice in painting. To tell a story via paint on the canvas is perhaps the very concept I've been looking for all this time.


So when we got home yesterday I tried it -- storytelling using paint and not words. There were some fresh cut zinnias from the farmer's market which I arranged in an impromptu still life, and then I painted all afternoon and into the evening. (Worked on it some more this morning....might work on it some more, or not. We'll see.)

Disclaimer: The painting is based on a real still life, but is technically classified as fiction. Any resemblance to flowers living or dead is strictly coincidental.

A Taut Trick

Sometimes when I get my canvases home from the art supply store, they are flimsy and loose. It is no fun at all to paint on a loose canvas. When the canvas is loose, I hammer little keys into slots in the corners of the back of the canvas to tighten the front painting surface.


Yesterday, when I tried to tighten a canvas this way, the little keys pushed through the support and out the side. See? Not good. So, I called the art supply store to explain, complain a little bit, and hope to get money back for something I accidentally helped destroy only because the product wasn't up to a properly stretched canvas standard.


The sweet, kind manager was understanding and very helpful, agreeing to fully reimburse or replace the faulty product, but he also taught me a new trick.

Apparently, at least with linen canvases, instead of using the keys to tighten the painting surface, one can take hot water and paint it on the back of the canvas. The hot water shrinks the canvas until it's taut. Of course! Why didn't I think of that? Duh. And why hasn't anyone mentioned this before? It would have been a most helpful trick to know. Learn from me, Grasshopper.

The discolored part of the linen is where I've already painted water on the back of the canvas. Even before it was fully dry, sure enough, the surface was tight as a drum. Perfect for painting.

12" x 12" Exhibition

This is the blurb from Betz Gallery about the opening reception this Saturday. I'll be there along with some of my art.

International and local artists present the "TWELVE BY TWELVE" SHOW, an international juried exhibition of art work 12 inches by 12 inches. Betz Art Gallery received hundreds of artists entries from all over and only 70 artists were chosen for this show.

You'll find every imaginable creation, from the sublime to the silly, from cleverly humorous to beautifully breathtaking, and each one no larger than 12" x 12". We believe that you are going to love what you see and have a great time at the artist reception, Saturday, November 6th, 6pm-9pm.

BETZ ART GALLERY , 1208 W. GRAY , HOUSTON TX 77019
VALET PARKING COMPLIMENTARY

Pink Chucks

Lately, I've been working toward getting ready for a 12" x 12" show at Betz Gallery on November 6th - 25th. All artwork in any media is considered for the show, as long as it fits the 12" x 12" format. It's not a size canvas that I normally work with, and it's been relatively restrictive (for me) as far as what can fit on the canvas.

For this painting, I was inspired by Vincent van Gogh, who painted several "portraits" of old work shoes in his day. These are my favorite everyday shoes at the moment. It's hard to leave them set up in the still life and not wear them until I'm finished with all the fine tuning of the painting. As silly as it sounds, I really miss wearing them. FYI, if the top lace hole is left unlaced, the shoes are easy to slip on and off.



A couple of weeks ago, I painted The Yellow Plate in preparation for the same exhibit, and have painted some sunflowers, too, that I've yet to photograph.

Three paintings can be entered for the jury process in the 12" x 12" show. What that means is that all three paintings might not be accepted in the show....AND, I'm not even sure that this painting and the sunflower one will be dry enough in time to enter them in the exhibit anyway.

Time will tell.

Abstract Sunflowers

A gazillion....that's how many times people have suggested that I try my hand at abstract art. Why would people say that? To my face? In front of my obviously non-abstract art?

Yesterday, I worked on....this. So far, I'm calling it Abstract Sunflowers. It's 12" x 12" very thick (impasto) oil on canvas.


It's going to take a while for it to dry.

Highs

In order to pose next to "Reese and Hilary in Galveston" (painted by none other than yours truly) at the opening of the Good Gulf exhibit at the Art Car Museum, the Amazing Reese and I had to get a little creative. Thankfully, artist friends were in abundance at the opening, and Jeanne graciously agreed to take our photo, which turned out great, thank you, Jeanne.



About an hour later, the Art Car Museum folks had us reprise the pose. We were flattered, and crazy enough to oblige.

In Other News...

My friend, Joanne came over to paint with me yesterday. She has painted with acrylics many times, but wanted to brush up on her oil painting skills and asked for a bit of advice. She actually wanted a lesson but I thought that it would be more fun if we panted side by side, and I could give pointers and tips as I remembered them.

Since she's a former art major, she already know many of the basics of drawing, color, and composition. Apparently painting with acrylics is very different than oils. Much of what I was telling her about the oil painting process was in contrast to how she normally paints.


With oil painting, it's advisable to start with the darkest color shade first and build toward the lightest color. I tried to emphasize painting color planes versus painting the actual image, though I'm not sure that I explained it well. Except for her signature, Joanne's finished painting is in the photo below. I'm really proud of the work she did.

Before she came over, I had communicated that we would paint a non fussy still life. We both laughed several times while painting, because the still life absolutely refused to be non fussy. Good grief. Flowers are complicated to paint. Sorry about that, Joanne.


For whatever reason, I was exhausted when she left, and my own painting was as yet unfinished. After a substantial amount of ingested food and an insufficient amount of rest, I got back to work -- a full days worth. The last paintbrush was cleaned just before 7pm last night.


This morning, I took a photo of my finished painting and the set up for the still life. (It's a 16" x 20" oil on linen -- really quality canvas -- I enjoyed painting on this brand. Will go buy some more.) Notice that the lamp (to control the light source) is propped up on four thick art books. See little Skipper resting in his bed. He's always happiest when he's close to me.

In other news, the Amazing Reese and I have been married for 26 years today. Happy anniversary, Reese.

Also, this Friday night (October 22nd) is Lawndale Art Center's retablo exhibit. (See my work here.) And Saturday night (October 23rd) is the opening for the Art Car Museum's Good Gulf exhibit. I have a piece in both, plus hope to have something in HCAA's Greater Houston Open Show -- also opening Saturday night. I won't find out until the last minute on the HCAA show....

Home from the Florist

The Yellow Plate

After days of languishing in the studio, arranging and re-arranging still lifes, sketching and erasing images, in addition to various other painting related forms of trial and error, I painted The Yellow Plate.

It's nice to actually accomplish something after lots of nothings.


It's 12" x 12", painted on a cotton canvas.

Fall-ing

In preparation for this super busy fall, (between now and the end of November I have 16 different art due dates and events,) I spent the day cleaning and organizing the art studio closet and desk....which wasn't on today's list, but as I was moving things around trying to look for something, I bumped into the turpentine which spilled all over some unused canvases and the floor in the closet, and as I was trying to scoot the canvases around to clean the floor, I bumped something else which spilled, and by then it was easier to just take everything out and re-organize and clean the whole closet. I even fixed a broken closet shelf with some epoxy (instead of screws and nails) and consequently got a little loopy from all the fumes, being in an unventilated closet and all. Duh.

Then I spent some time toning a canvas for a particular project that is due in less than two weeks. Toning is when one mixes oil paint and turpentine to paint a thin layer of color on the canvas, (instead of always starting a painting on a white canvas surface.) I used to never do this, and now I almost exclusively do it. It's a great way to use leftover paint and for whatever reason, psychologically, it's easier to begin a painting on a toned surface versus the typical white canvas.

Maybe it's the fumes, because even though I've made a dated list of when everything is due and taped it to the mirror in the studio, I'm still a little confused as to what exactly is due when.... What am I forgetting?

Aphrodite, aka Hilary

For the fourth year in a row, I'm participating in Lawndale Art Center's Retablo exhibit. A retablo is a small devotional painting often painted on rectangular sheets of tin. The first year I participated, my offering was specific to the idea of honoring a dead loved one, my gramma Mills. For purely sentimental reasons, it's probably the only piece of work I've done that I really want to buy back. Is it right for the artist to admit this? Probably not.

Basically since last year, I've been thinking about how to incorporate the sheet metal that Lawndale provides for the artists' use in this year's retablo piece. The work evolved up until the last possible minute, with the photo showing the finished result. Good grief, I spent hours working on this, first painting the portrait, thinking, cutting the sheet metal, sanding the sheet metal, sealing the sheet metal, thinking some more, placing and affixing the heart necklace, painting the edge black, attaching the eye hooks and wire on the back, photographing it, more thinking, and finally naming the piece and delivering it to Lawndale.

Almost as soon as I got home, I thought of another, possibly better name for the piece, and am half tempted to go back to Lawndale and try to re-name it, only as Hilary pointed out, I wrote it on the back in Sharpie. But the look in her eyes does bring to mind Botticelli's Birth of Venus (aka Aphrodite), gentle, serene, and lovely.

Of august gold-wreathed and beautiful
Aphrodite I shall sing to whose domain
belong the battlements of all sea-loved
Cyprus where, blown by the moist breath
of Zephyros, she was carried over the
waves of the resounding sea on soft foam.
The gold-filleted Horae happily welcomed
her and clothed her with heavenly raiment.

Scissor Hand to Heart

The Amazing Reese came into the art studio yesterday and exclaimed, "Wow. Those are some big @ss scissors!" He promptly went to find the camera to document the work. The scissors have to be big and sturdy. I'm using them to cut through steel sheet metal preparing for Lawndale Art Center's Annual Retablo Exhibit and Gala. The due date for the finished work is this Thursday so guess what I'll be working on all week?

Some of you will remember this Diva Hair painting from a few months back. It's painted on panel and was specifically cut for the retablo exhibit which specifies a maximum finished work size of 12" x 14". Since then, I've been thinking and thinking of how to incorporate the metal retablo into the work.



This years retablo offering is still evolving. Quite by accident, I've ended up with more than a few tiny steel hearts because of trying to make one perfect heart, which, as we all know, is not possible. One heart led to another, and before I knew it, there were hearts out the wazoo. (not really)



Seeking sympathy for suffering for art's sake, what I was trying to show in the photo was the bruise on my hand from using those big @ss scissors, though it's virtually impossible to tell. Looking at the photo now, the old Shakers' saying comes to mind, "hands to work, hearts to God" -- always a good thing to remember, and practice.

Third Time's a Charm

When I started working on this portrait commission four or five months ago, it became quickly apparent that whatever I was doing at the time wasn't working. So, the painting got put aside. Occasionally, I would put the unfinished portrait back on the easel and work on it to no avail. In the meantime, I had started work on a second canvas with similar lackluster results.

In order to give the patron the absolute best service, I began work on a third pose and third portrait. After the third try was successful, and with confidence somewhat restored, I re-started work on the first two attempts at painting this sweet little girl. To my delight, all three paintings are now finished to my satisfaction, this one being the first one started and the last one finished.


My intent all along was to give the patron my very best talent and ability. I never expected this result (three paintings) and hope that this little girl's grandmother will regard it as part of my artistic expression and creativity combined with diligent hard work. To be fair, the patron is free to choose from all three portraits which one she would like as per our original contract. She is under no obligation to buy all three, though of course, she may, if she so chooses.

Two Down....

In 1892, Renoir was commissioned by the French government to produce a painting for the newly established "Museum of Living Artists" at the Luxembourg Palace. Author Francesca Castellani says that Renoir then went through a period of stylistic indecision, executing no fewer that seven versions of "Girls at the Piano." The very idea of a commission paralyzed him and made him lose his self confidence.

In a much smaller way, I also experienced a crisis of self doubt while working on my most recent portrait commission. Unlike Renoir's seven canvases, I only produced three. And though mine were all of the same little girl, they were three different poses. What to do with the other two canvases now that the "Young Girl in Red Cowboy Hat" is finished? Well, re-work them....again. Yesterday and today I worked on this painting for the gazillionth time.


There's just a little more work to do before the third painting is finished. Or, it may never be finished. Time will tell.

This Old Garage Apartment

This garage apartment had been used as an artist studio years ago, with the artist creating in and on every square inch of the space; walls, floor, and ceiling, as seen in the photo. My generous neighbor, Fran owns it. Fran and her husband, Larry were some of the first friends we made when we moved to this neighborhood 12-ish years ago. Fran has a swimming pool, and with proper supervision, repeatedly invited our four daughters over to swim. I fully credit any skill our daughters have in the water to Fran's unfailing generosity.


Fran and I, and a few other neighbors, have been slowly renovating the space with the idea that Fran will be able to rent it out when we're finished. (By slowly, I mean that because of everyone's busy schedules, we only work on Thursday mornings.) It's got loads of potential. So far, in addition to moving old furniture and things out, we've been scraping layers of paint from the wood trim, and have been removing old sheetrock and the wallpaper and cheesecloth underneath that. We're debating whether or not to keep the ceiling as an homage to the former artist, as well as one of the more creative walls.

It's incredibly satisfying to see the work start to take shape.

Believe it or not, there's a possibility (probability?) that I may have an art show in this space in the future (before Fran rents it). Maybe.

Idyllic Reality

In an idyllic world, I have equal time and attention to give to all friends. But reality is not so gracious.

This morning, an unexpected message on our answering machine left me emotionally gasping for air. In order to respond to it effectively would mean cancelling a prior commitment with a friend. I called her at the very last minute to cancel. Ouch.

Did I feel terrible about cancelling? Yes. Was that friend gracious and understanding? Yes. Was I available for everyone today? No.

Momentum and emotion propelled me further into the day; that and a quick prayer. One thing led to another, and another, and it ended up that people and situations just fell into the hours -- in a good way. Inch by inch, row by row, everything was truly coming up roses.

The timing for all of these little details to fall into place moment after moment was nothing short of mind blowing to be a part of -- it felt like I was a bystander in my own life. I couldn't have possibly planned it. I'm not that organized.

Maybe I'm Just Hungry

It's hard to write a good beginning, especially when the one doing the writing doesn't really have anything of value to say. It doesn't seem to stop some people, though. They keep writing and writing. And me? I keep reading and reading....hoping, just hoping that something important will be said; something inspiring or challenging or intellectually stimulating. Alas, there's nothing. Absolutely nothing. The supposed charmed life one is attempting to read about is both full and vacuously empty at the same time.

Some writings I devour, being fed morsel after tasty morsel, a carefully selected turn of phrase here and there like the the meal I occasionally dream about from Brennan's -- turtle soup spiked with sherry, pecan crusted trout, maque choux, and green beans, finished with a handful of pralines stuffed in my pocket on the way out the door as, by then, I'm usually too full to eat another bite. The authors who offer a full course meal like that -- those are the authors I want to read.

Other writings taste like a mouthful of dry plaster, not that I'm speaking from experience or anything. I'm just imagining. Because try as I might, there are just some writings that I can't even chew, much less swallow. Self centered self righteous whiny writers are the worst sort -- and they are everywhere these days. In fact, the very nature of keeping a blog, regardless of content, lends itself to self introspection with a glass of whine. And though this is designed to be a blog about the artistic process with regards to my life, and a seemingly innocuous way to promote myself, that's just it. I am promoting myself. Which hopefully, if anyone is still reading by this point, doesn't ALWAYS taste like a mouthful of plaster, though I really don't know what that tastes like. Honest.

Sweet Caroline

This precious little girl is as delightful and effervescent as she is beautiful. This is the (almost) final rendition of her portrait which her grandmother commissioned me to paint four months ago.


Regular readers know that this portrait commission has been quite a struggle over these last few months. Hours and hours have gone into this commission -- too many to count. But with determination, and armed with a preponderance of time and quiet this past week, I spent several more full days working and re-working this portrait. It's basically done, but at this point, I'll let it dry for several weeks and tweak small things here and there. (The red paints always take longer to fully dry.) After the surface is dry, I'll sign it.

It's with a grateful and contented heart that I'm happy to report being very pleased with the mostly finished result. The Amazing Reese likes it, too.

Deep in the Heart

Last night, after a full day of focused work, I took time out to go to the opening of Patrick Palmer's Works on Paper exhibit at Houston Community College. Patrick taught the one class I've ever taken at Glassell, a life drawing class. Patrick patiently and graciously explained, for a whole semester, things about art I had never before heard.



The earrings and necklace I'm wearing in the photo were designed by Karen Olds, who donated them to a fundraiser for a mutual friend of ours, Sam VanBibber, who has breast cancer. Sam can't work for a while, so a bunch of her friends got together to raise money for her living expenses.

The pearls in the necklace and earrings set are spaced such that when wearing them, it feels like I'm wearing a constellation.

So I meet this guy at the opening reception, who did a double take on my name, and said, "Sarah Hazel? Like the color of my eyes - hazel?" (while pulling down his lower eyelid and leaning in so that I could see.) "How'd you get a name like that?" "Well," I said, "I married into it." At which point he reaches down and holds up my left hand to survey that yes, indeed, my ring finger is occupied. He then asks, "Are ya happy with him?" At my "Yes, very happy. You would like him, too" answer, he kicks an imaginary rock and asks, "Are ya sure?"

Later in our conversation, when I found out that he teaches art appreciation at HCC, I immediately said, "Oh! You taught my daughter, Hilary Hazel, last semester." He then pauses, and takes a long, studied look from the top of my gray head to the tip of cowboy boots and back, and then says, "It figures. You would be Red's mom." Then, bless his heart, he tried one more time, "Are ya sure you're happy with this fella?" (while pointing at my ring finger.) To which I replied, "Yes, and once you meet him you'll understand why. Everybody loves the Amazing Reese."

Flop Flip

Though there are no photos of my recent portrait commission painting flops for you, the gentle reader to see, they stare at me every time I go in the studio. It's been so frustrating to not be able to figure out how to make the "flops" right -- even to the point of wondering if I even know how to paint AT ALL. I'm this close to apologising profusely and giving the patron back her down payment. Only a huge chunk of it has already been spent on supplies for the flops so I would have to come up with some cash to make up the difference. Not cool.

But today....today Hilary agreed to pose for me, God bless her. Not quite remembering how to begin, it was a shaky start. Hilary was patient, even encouraging.

When I paint from a photograph, my technique is different. It's easier to take more time sketching and measuring to make sure that the proportions are correct, and noses, lips and eyes are in the right place. So far, when painting people from life, I have to find the person's space first. And then sketch a loose outline.


And when that's mostly well adjusted, start adding color and re-define the outline, shadows, highlights over and over and over.

Without a doubt, the portrait commission has been whipping my tail - very discouraging, but painting today was a different story.


It was at about this point in the painting process this afternoon, that I thanked Hilary for the 45th time, and realized that TODAY - RIGHT NOW - was a wonderful, even fantastic experience. With a heart full of emotion, I burst into tears right in the middle of painting.

Hilary tried hard not to laugh, but I didn't care. My whole mind, body, soul, and spirit was filled to the brim with gratitude.


And this is it. This is beyond my understanding. Painting today was a true gift from the Creator. There's no other way to explain it.

I'll adjust some things over the next few days. The background is still in an incomplete state. Her nose and skin tones here and there might need some re-adjustment, but for the most part, this is it.

Visiting Rights

Though no longer in my custody, the new owners have graciously allowed me to maintain visiting rights to this painting, Harmony in Flesh Tones and Pink - Astrid....which will be slightly difficult, since this painting now lives in Paris, France.

Au revoir, until we meet again....some day.

¿Cuánto cuesta?

¿Cuánto cuesta? means "how much does it cost" in Spanish.

If it hasn't been said before, it should have been -- I love win wins. Right now, a friend and I are bartering services. She gets child care from me on Wednesdays for her precious five year old twins, and I get some light carpentry work (provided through her) done on the house. It's a win win for us both. In fact, because her kiddos are so sweet, I'm probably getting more out of it than she is....(but don't tell her that.)

Some of the carpentry work is being done in the art studio. In what I consider the highest of compliments, one of the Spanish speaking workers loves my art and wants his portrait painted by yours truly. It's perfect timing because I've postponed getting serious about starting a portrait series as previously mentioned here and here. It's past time to get busy.

In a different time space continuum, I'm independently wealthy and can give give give to my heart's content. But in this life, right now, I can't; to paint is costly, and so I was trying to come up with a creative barter so that we could create a win win for him to get his portrait painted and for me to get something out of the deal, too. Such as, we work together to paint the living room and dining room walls in exchange for the portrait (which he would keep) -- or something like that. Only he didn't like that idea. OK, so what does he think is a fair exchange? How much should it cost him? And how much should it cost me? What is fair for us both? Ideas anyone?

The French Connection

This is Francoise. She is my dear friend from France. Until this week, I hadn't seen her in over two years. I love her. Her daughter is the subject of one of my most commented on paintings which has also one won a first place and peoples choice award in two separate art shows.



This morning, we went to the Menil Collection, a vast array of art gathered largely by the late French American philanthropist, Dominique de Menil. The Menil has an impressive collection of surrealist paintings, of whom Rene Magritte is my favorite. Neither of us remember the name of the painting in the photo....


....which we snapped just before the guard told us that no photos were allowed. Oops.