pigmented reality

The sweet smell of turpentine. The slinky splash of linseed oil. Upright bristles, flexed and ready to go. I love it. The past few days I've had the angsty inclination to finish up a portrait I am working on, but getting started is really hard. I suppose it' a lot like sitting down to write a term paper, or maybe write a book. Once you get into it, it goes very easily -- for the most part -- but building yourself up to the point of actually starting is the hard part. Waffling. That's what I have been doing. Browsing the internet for random inspiration. Wasting time. And of course, 9 o'clock at night and I'm finally ready to paint! I think, however, I will write this post and save the actual painting for tomorrow. It just makes more sense with the cleanup and toxic fumes and all that.

Anyway, I thought I would share some of my work. I don't really have a definite style of my own. I pretty much just paint and what comes out is what comes out. I have tried several different styles by doing copies of paintings and whatnot (classic art class project as it is) but it is always such a struggle to keep from doing what is familiar. That, and, all the portraits end up looking a bit like me or my husband. Actually, it is guaranteed that if I am painting a man it will look like my husband. It's terrible. I blame the fact that I see him so very much. And myself, obviously. And also maybe the fact that I don't take the proper time to do a character study before starting. Anyway, this is a goal of mine, getting better at portraits. Capturing the essence of someone. That would be amazing. As a painter, I think I have yet to capture someone's essence. Wow, that sounds really cheesy but damn it it's true. The same can be said for poetry or photography. It's easy to get someone down on paper but to get their soul....ah, that is a real accomplishment.

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The first two are sort of unfinished. I want to add something more to the top one and the middle painting is part of a diptych that I never finished and now I don't even remember what the text was supposed to be on the scroll. The last painting, the typewriter painting, hangs over the toilet which always cracks me up. The bathroom in my house has this white wood paneling (yes, strange choice someone made decades ago) and so it feels a bit cabiny so I think the painting works perfectly there. And it's a bit creepy probably haha.

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And this is the best one I think I have done in the past few years. It's huge and it was my first wood panel painting which is now my new favorite surface to paint on. I would sell all the others but probably not this one. Usually I just do paintings for friends and then just give them away but I think that if I get more prolific I could probably sell some at a gallery or at the very least in a coffee shop. I just need to be more prolific. So, that said, it's painting time.


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