Sunday, November 26, 2006

Bowl of Lemons - Study

Lemons, 8 x 10. This is a concept I'm still working on - this study is the third, and it's closer but not quite... there. I know what I want. Hang on a few weeks and check back - I'll have something closer.

Saturday, November 25, 2006

Lemon Half

Oh yellow. Oh terrible, beautiful yellow. Oh sweetness, oh sour. Oh crazy chromic conundrum, oh hueish hubris.

Thy terrible tongue. Thy name is Lemon.

3 x 5 inches, oil on abs panel. :-)

Sunday, November 19, 2006

Standing Bosc

Standing Bosc, 3 x 5 inches, oil on panel. Click here to purchase this painting for $150.

What do these little paintings mean? You've probably seen the abundance of daily painting blogs, and I wonder sometimes why a painting would get painted. For Duane Keiser or Mick McGinty, their aesthetic seems to be one of renewing the everyday object by depicting it in paint. For Neil Hollingsworth, I think it's amazing that he does those paintings so quickly! They're gorgeous, compact, and intense.

I'm warming up, in paint. I'm singing "Do Re Mi" while I'm working on another idea. Each of my little paintings is a spark of an idea for another painting, and a way for me to figure out how to get more voice in there.

I used to think that the painter should disappear behind the painting - should not be apparent. Now, I think the painter's voice should come through, the same way it would in a song.

I'm not very concerned if these studies sell - though I am tickled when they do! I just need need need to paint them. The act of observing the object in life, and getting them down in paint, and feeling like Yes, That is my pear! This is me singing.

Saturday, November 18, 2006

A Lovely Reclining Bosc

Bosc pears are people-colored, as well as people-shaped. I think they're wonderful. I've never eaten one, though. When I'm done with this little guy I think I'll call him Lunch.

3 x 5 inches, oil on panel. Click here to buy this painting for $150.

Friday, November 17, 2006


Pears, oil on panel, 8 x 8". 8 x 8 inches, oil on canvas on panel. Click here to buy this painting for $200.

Thursday, November 16, 2006

Monday, November 13, 2006

Green Delicious

Oh, the Photoshop just doesn't show you what color this is. I wanted it to peek around that shadow and glow, so demurely. In real life it does, but the photo... eh, not so much.

Thanks to everyone who has posted and emailed me comments. I can't believ it's only been a week for this blog. I'm touched by the messages of encouragement and support. Thanks! Feel free to post your comments or email me.

Click here to purchase this painting for $150. 5 x 3 inches, oil on panel.

Sunday, November 12, 2006

Plums - SOLD

More on ABS. This is on a straight ABS panel mounted on nice plywood, 3 x 5 inches. The surface is a little absorbant but not too much - I could get a good film layer pretty fast, and blending didn't pull it off like with the matte medium. I like it!

Saturday, November 11, 2006


Scissors, 3 x 5 inches, oil on ABS panel.

I got some new ABS panels to try out. Wow. This one was too slick, I didn't really like the way the paint was slipping around, not enough control for me. But with a couple small modifications I think this could be a very good thing.

Click here to purchase this painting.

Friday, November 10, 2006

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

Glowing pear

Pears have the most personality of all fruits, I think. They're fat and juicy, vaguely person shaped. Plus, they're delicious. The skin is smooth and waxy-shiny, like people, and frequently, they blush. I know it's not the most original subject for a painting - but it's irresistible.

Click here to purchase this painting.

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

Monday, November 06, 2006

Daisies - SOLD

These little daisies, in this Ewa Zeisel vase, were nearly not born. Lesson #4: keep trying.

There are variations in realism. Some seek to make no marks at all, some have paint flying everywhere and nothing substantial anywhere. Waterhouse was accused of making images that were unconvincing, but pretty. Convince whom? And convince them of what?

This painting marks the day when I thought about "finish." How is a painting finished? How do I know when it's done? Is the goal to be convincing, or evocative? Some painters make icons of a thing - where it's pear shaped, pear colored, but not sweet or heavy like a pear, just a flat cartoon stand-in. And some make convincing trompe l'oiel pears, where they, the artist, disappear behind it. And some make a lot of messy paint with a bit of pear in the middle, which is sort of like babbling on and on about their day, and their hairdo, and all the muscle it took them to make the pear. And the story that tells about the pear is sometimes way better than the story the pear would tell about itself. And sometimes it's not a better story, just a bunch of self-indulgent windmaking.

So while I am learning to tell you the story of the pears, and daisies, and people, I am also learning what kind of storyteller I am. Most times, I am satisfied to finish a painting when "it is what it is." This is something I say in my head, so I can't really explain what it means. But I will give it a good think and get back to that subject later.

But what I want, what I really really want, is to show you a thing not how it is, but how it is remembered. I think that most people can remember an object they stared at, but can't really remember its details. They remember how it feels and smells and how after a while it seemed to stand out alone on its own stage and everything else became mute in the background. Most of a thing will be glare and fuzzy bits, with only shards of clarity. Because a thing you stared at is a thing you longed for.

So a pear is not special. Unless it is. If I think it's special, then I should be able to convey that, develop the voice that would tell that story, so that you would hear it.

Sunday, November 05, 2006

They can't all be winners

You'd think an easy way to get models would be to just make them yourself, but children are surprisingly averse to sitting still for long periods, even though I gave them life. Go figure.

I have half a pomegrante done, and half a pre-teen from life. Neither are worth your time.

Somebody said "don't give away your fire," meaning don't talk about things instead of doing them, lest you lose your zest for the project in the telling of it. Usually I won't even tell my husband what I'm thinking of working on. It only deflates the idea while it is struggling to be all abundant promise. It's like laughing. Or like a sneeze. Or like a balloon. Containing a thing until it can no longer be contained makes its eventual delivery so much more delightful.

I waited a long time before I started this blog. Duane Keiser's work and success both encouraged me and made me hesitant, lest I look like some johnny-come-lately pigment poseur. But since I have had small children around, my paintings have been largely done in one session. Most, honestly, are trash. But lately, they're suddenly better.

I can't say how or why yet. Too soon. But they're better and I know why. I don't think I'll be able to carry off a painting every day, but every weekend day is more like it. Until I just can't take it any more.

Saturday, November 04, 2006

Tangerines - SOLD

Orange is a great color, but not so much for photographing. This picture misses a lot. In real life, those tangerines just sit there, glowing fatly. The picture is a little scary.

Cont8 x 10 inches, oil on panel. SOLD.

Friday, November 03, 2006

The first post - SOLD

There has to be a first post, and it has to be awkward and self-conscious. This post is why I've never kept a journal outside of class assignments.

So I'll post a painting. This is Orange Juice, 8x10", oil on panel. It's in the quintessential diner restaurant glass with the ridges. I like common things. Common things dissolve into background noise. Painting them helps me re-admire them.

This painting is SOLD.