Friday Faves - 6/27/14

Favorite Painting:

"Beach of the Seine Near Giverny (Mist)" - Claude Monet, 1897

So, this is the first painting I ever saw that gave me goosebumps.

It's not a famous Monet, maybe not his best painting, but I love it for the emotion. I remember wandering around the Chicago Art Institute in college and stumbling on this painting, and just standing there with goosebumps, taking it all in. It was maybe the first time I realized just how moving two dimensional art can be. There's something about a great piece that can stir your soul.

I wrote this blog post a few months ago about what the big goal is with my work, and it spurred an interesting conversation on Facebook about works of art that had really impacted people - the type of work you see once in a blue moon that gives you goosebumps, or brings tears to your eyes.

So, I want to know, what was the first work of art you ever saw that had that effect on you? When was the first time you remember standing in a museum or a gallery or wherever else, with the hair on the back of your neck standing up because you saw a piece that was just so good that it hit you in the gut? Post in the comments on Facebook or here - I want to know!

Favorite Quote:

"Believe me, success isn't some ancient secret that you find bottled up in some black market for a really high price. It’s out there. It’s formulaic. It’s a hefty dose of patience with a bucketload of just doing the work combined with self-confidence. You can do the work and wait – but if you step up to the line without thinking you can do it – you've just waited and wasted a lot of time. But if you step up to the line with a confident mind and trusting legs – chances are you’ll surprise yourself." 

- Elizabeth Waterstraat

This quote comes from a triathlon blog I used to read - the whole post is a good read if you have the time. I've had it filed away in my favorites for a while. 

Whether you're talking about sports or art or even just work, it's so true. Patience + Work + Confidence. You have to have all three of those things to make it. I come across great artists who lack confidence in their work, I come across artists who have a boatload of talent but don't do the work, and I know quite a few who get impatient with the seemingly glacial pace of their growing career. I am all of those three sometimes.

Favorite Music:

I'm posting this one more for the video than the song. Watch this - if it doesn't make you want to go hang out in Wyoming for a while, I don't know what will. Some seriously beautiful footage of the Tetons and Yellowstone, with a good soundtrack! (Can someone remind me again WHY I'm not going to paint the Tetons this July????? Regretting that decision a bit right now...)

Friday Faves - 6/13/14

One of these days I will get around to posting some real blog posts again, but it's summer and I'm slammed with work, and it seems like it might be a while. In the meantime, here are some of my favorites!

Favorite Painting:

"Sentinel Bluffs" - 36x43" - George Carlson - 2013

I know I've been featuring historical paintings up until this point, but this one is the one that jumped out at me today, so contemporary it is! Besides, Carlson will undoubtedly go down in history as one of the great artists of this generation, so it's like watching history happen, right?

I should confess that I pretty much love everything George Carlson paints. For those of you who read this blog who aren't artists and not familiar, Carlson is an extremely successful sculptor. The fact that he can switch so seamlessly from sculpting to painting masterpieces like this is amazing to me.

This painting, which is fairly large, is powerful. It's the perfect example of how you can keep the color and detail minimal in a painting, and still make an extremely powerful statement. The composition and values here work together to create a sense of drama that pulls you in. And the unexpected and varied use of color in the shadows adds interest that holds you. I haven't had the pleasure of seeing this painting in person, but I can almost guarantee that if I did I would be able to stare at it forever, finding subtleties that aren't visible in a photo.

Favorite Quote:

Love this quote about imperfection. I needed to remember this last week.

The entire reason that I keep this blog going is because I hope that in some way, keeping it real about the process of being an artist will help someone, somewhere, who is just starting out and feeling frustrated. I meet the occasional person who thinks I'm a little nuts for putting the tough stuff out there - like it's bad marketing to post a photo of my rejections or admit that I'm feeling uninspired - but it's really important to me to be honest, so I keep at it.

I had one of my blog posts re-published on FineArtViews last week, and it just happened to be a post where I was being real about some struggles I had in the studio. So all the sudden I was baring my soul to thousands of people, rather than the few hundred I might get here, and I thought, "Self, was this a good idea??"

I get a lot of emails when posts go live on FAV, and in the case of this one, I got a ton of kind, encouraging emails - people writing me to say, "Me too!! I'm so glad I'm not the only one who feels this way sometimes!" But there are always a couple of negative ones when you put yourself out there, and I got a couple of nasties from this blog post. And I'm admittedly thin-skinned so I stewed over those two negative emails, and told myself that I was done putting myself out there, and done with being real on the blog. Or at the very least, I was done publishing my posts on a very public blog that thousands of people read. And as I was stewing and feeling sort of bad, I saw this quote and immediately felt better. Because that's what it's about for me. Keeping it real so people who are starting out know what it's like to live this life.

Favorite Music:

I love this band. Sorry that there's not a cool video to go with this song, but it's a favorite of mine, so I'm sharing it anyhow. So give it a listen, and if you like it, go buy their EP - the whole thing is awesome and it's only $4, so you can't go wrong!

Friday Faves - 5/30/14

Favorite Words:

I was sad this morning when I read that Robert Genn had succumbed to cancer. The art world has definitely lost a wise and giving soul. I've been reading Genn's newsletters for years - so much food for thought there. This quote comes from this morning's newsletter. It's simple, but so true:

There's so much about art the gives my life meaning. Yeah, it's my job, my livelihood, my passion. But the arts in general give life a fullness that it wouldn't have without them.

Favorite Painting:

"Water Mill" - Frits Thaulow, 1892

This guy could paint water like no other. This painting is great because that's all it's about - WATER. And he does it so well. The values he uses in the water in this and his other paintings are just spot on, and so the surface just glistens. Add in some beautiful color and a great design, and you have a painting that I could probably stare at for hours.

Favorite Music:

I just posted this video on Facebook a few weeks ago, so I know this is a bit lazy of me, but I'm putting it here so I can find it someday in the future.

I love the Paper Kites - they're a little bit mellow, good for the studio on a snowy day. This is a great song, and this video is absolutely beautiful. I mean, let's be honest - mountain bikes + good music + awesome scenery = bliss! So, if you haven't seen it yet, watch it. Then go check out their other tunes ("Bloom", "Tenenbaum", "St. Clarity", "Young" - so many good ones I can't pick a favorite!).

Have a great weekend!!

Friday Faves - 5/9/14

Okay, so I had this brilliant idea to blog about my favorites every Friday, and then I was out of town two weeks in a row and forgot about it! Complete FAIL.

So, here they are for this week.

Favorite Words:

I've posted this quote somewhere on this blog before, I'm sure, but that was years ago so you get it again. Wise words from an amazing woman, Maya Angelou:

Favorite Painting:

"Arques–la–Bataille" - John Henry Twachtman, 1885

This is one of my favorite paintings of all time. I could stare at it for hours. It's so simple, but still so powerful. Simple shapes, solid values, and beautiful draftsmanship in the foreground. Proof that a painting doesn't have to be busy to say a lot.

Favorite Music:

I don't know about you, but nothing inspires me more than watching another person master their art. Nothing gets me more excited to paint than seeing an amazing painting, or hearing some really great live music, or watching a beautiful dance.

This particular song has been around for a while, and this album is always on rotation in my studio, but when I finally got to hear (see?) this song live last summer I got goosebumps. John Butler is an amazing guitar player. I wish I could paint as well as he can play. And I wish this video was half as cool as hearing this in person. (Feel free to skip the first minute of rambling talk - the music is worth it, promise!)

Friday Faves!

One of the things I love most about social media is being able to find and share inspiring stuff with my art friends - quotes, paintings, music, etc... But I have this tendency to share things on Facebook, and then months go by, and when I try to find that quote or image or video that I posted a while back, it's virtually impossible to find in my feed. And that's kind of a bummer, because I like to revisit that sort of thing - get re-inspired, if you will. SOOOO, I had this idea to do a post of favorites here on the blog every Friday, so I can find all that inspiring stuff later on, all in one place. Every week, I'll include some inspiring words, and maybe a favorite painting, and if I happen to see an awesome video or hear some great music, I'll throw that in too.

So here goes. My Friday Favorites - first edition. Enjoy!

Favorite Words:

Last week, Robert Genn's newsletter for artists included 8 Rules for Painting, based loosely on Neil Gaiman's 8 Rules for Writing. I liked the painterly take on things, but nothing can take the place of Gaiman's original 8 rules. Even if you aren't a writer, these apply to your art.

(If you can't read this, click on it for a larger version - I uploaded this as a larger image so you can download it if you want)

My husband would tell you that I've pretty much mastered #7. Hehe... The rest are truth with a capital T.

Favorite Painting:

"Winter's Loveliness" - Edward Harrison Compton, 1904

I discovered the work Edward Harrison Compton, as well as that of his father (Edward Theodore Compton), through Facebook a few months ago, and I'm in love with the work of both of them. They were both mountaineers, and they could paint mountains like no other. And snow. This one is beautiful, not only for the tight values and color, but for the emotional component as well. Sigh...

Favorite Video:

I know, I shared this a few months ago so it's old news, but I love it so I'm going to share it here too. The voiceover for this video is just so inspiring. It's not about whether you live out of a van or in a big house, or have a job in an office or not, but rather about making sure you're doing the things you love - the things that make you feel alive.

35 from ARC'TERYX on Vimeo.

Some of my favorite words, from the video (you can read the whole thing here):

"I try to collect moments. I step back and watch the movie that is my life for just a second, because it’s easy to miss the good stuff, the magic, when it happens. But I try not to. I try really hard to realize it when it’s amazing, and even when it’s not."

"We all have dreams, but they don’t mean much if we don’t act on them, if we put them in a drawer we label “Someday,” for when we think we’ll have more time. I try to get out there, to go to amazing places, to have incredible conversations with incredible people. I think it all adds up somewhere. And when it does, you’re not doing something. You’re being something. And what I want to be is happy, and excited, and inspired."

The Big Picture

"Monarch Lake Summer"

Oil on Panel

30x24"

2013

I don't spend too much time worrying about what my art is saying. I just try to get out there, find something that inspires me, and attempt to paint what I feel. Nothing complicated, nothing all that profound - just trying to make something beautiful.

And if you were to ask me what my biggest goal for my art is, I would probably think for a few seconds and then tell you that all I want to do is paint some really kick ass paintings someday.

Sure, there are some shows I'd like to be in, places I'd like to paint, items I'd like to add to my resume, but those things are secondary to the big goal, which is just to eventually make some really good art. Take your breathe away good, you know?

But that sounds kind of vague. Like, what constitutes a really good painting vs. a mediocre painting, or just a sort of good painting? I feel like it's one of those things you just know in your gut. It's not technical, it's emotional. But it's also really subjective. So, my big goal turns out to be a bit nebulous.

I was reading a really good book this week - The New American Road Trip Mixtape by Brendan Leonard - and this quote stopped me in my tracks when I read it:

"All my life, I had listened to great songs and read great books and watched great movies, and some of them moved me to the point of tears welling up, chills, the hair on the back of my neck standing up, some sort of physiological reaction to incredible, created beauty. Some song by some band or section of dialogue in a movie, or passage of writing in a book that would resonate with me so deeply that I would think just for a second that maybe it was all about me, about all of us. And all I wanted to do in my life was make one thing, one piece of art, a book, that did that for someone. Maybe for everyone." 

- Brendan Leonard, The New American Road Trip Mixtape

And BAM! There it is. THAT'S what I want to paint someday.

Leave it to someone else to state it so much more eloquently than me.

(If you need something to read, pick up that book, btw - it's an excellent read)

Taking the Leap - Revisited (YET AGAIN)

I was organizing some photos on my hard drive the other day when I came across this picture of me from my engineering days. Hard hat, fire resistant coveralls, and a full gas mask – ready to inspect a distillation column in a chemical plant in Baton Rouge. I've posted it before, but it cracks me up, so you get to see it again:

Every time I see this photo, I am SOOOOO THANKFUL that I’m an artist now. BEYOND thankful, honestly. So thankful that sometimes I think I should frame it and hang it in my studio so that I have a daily reminder of how thankful I should be.

Because the girl in that photo was miserable. Really, truly, miserable.

For starters, this is what it looks like when I’m on the job now:

Big improvement, right? But that’s just gravy. Even when I’m stuck inside in my unfinished dungeon of a basement studio, I still feel blessed.

I realized the other day that I’ve actually been doing this art thing for a living now longer than I was an engineer. My job has become so much like eating and breathing that I don’t normally give it much thought – it’s just ME, it’s what I do.

But less than ten years ago I was a ball of stress, agonizing constantly about what I could do for a living that would make me happy, or at least less miserable. I went through a phase where I was going to go back to school for physical therapy, another where I was going to be an accountant (oh my, it’s embarrassing to even admit that), and another where I was convinced being an art teacher was the way to go. Art was my thing, even back then, but it took me a long time to decide that I was going to hang it all up and paint for a living – mainly because I was afraid.

See, I’m a closet security freak. I used to make a lot of “safe” decisions. I picked the sensible school, the sensible major, the sensible job, the sensible place to live, and figured since I was minimizing risk, everything would turn out well and life would be great. BIG surprise when I found out that the sensible job in the sensible place was pretty much awful! All of the sudden the floor dropped out from under me, and my perfectly planned life seemed like a big mistake.

Since then, Nate and I have both quit our jobs and moved around a lot, just trying things out. Some things worked for us, some didn’t. Some choices we made were kind of dumb and we laugh at them now (buying a house in Highlands Ranch – I’m talking to you!). Some things were wonderful surprises (moving down to Evergreen when we thought we’d be up in the mountains forever). Sometimes it was scary, a lot of times it’s stressful, and it’s always completely ambiguous this way - there is no road map when you decide to strike out on your own. And I’m not gonna lie, the art paycheck is lower than the corporate one was. Essentially, nothing is all that secure for us anymore, but I love it.

I love that I get to wake up, spend time laughing with my kids, then spend the hours while they are at school doing what I love. I love the process of creation. I love that even the business side of my art is an ever evolving process. I love that I don’t have all the answers. I love that sometimes, I can go hike to a crazy beautiful place with some good friends, laugh the whole time, do a painting, and call it work (okay, I confess - I usually feel sort of guilty on those days). And while Nate might not always love his job as much as I love mine (lawyers, accountants, and contracts, oh my!!), I think he loves the challenge of creating a business too. It’s a constantly moving target – always a challenge.

It’s not for everyone – this sort of job takes a lot of self-discipline and motivation, and pretty thick skin. Well, REALLY thick skin, actually. But in the end, I've gone from a very sensible, structured life, to something that resembles constant chaos – a beautiful mess, if you will. I’m never caught up, there are no guarantees, and sometimes I have to work really hard to stay positive when things are slow. But I think it’s good. No regrets.

I look at some of my blog posts about taking the leap from years ago, and I want to tell my younger self that it worked out okay. That it might not be how she envisioned it, but it works, and that she shouldn't be so freaked out about everything. That she should just breathe, and try to be more authentic.

Back then, this was my favorite quote, and I think it still is. It’s how I try to live my life:

"What we have is based upon moment-to-moment choices of what we do. In each of those moments, we choose. 

We either take a risk and move toward what we want, or we play it safe and choose comfort. Most of the people, most of the time, choose comfort. 

In the end, people either have excuses or experiences; reasons or results; buts or brilliance. 

They either have what they wanted or they have a detailed list of all the rational reasons why not." 

~ Anonymous

I found this one more recently, and it speaks to my inner security freak:

"Too many people are thinking of security instead of opportunity. They seem more afraid of life than death."  

- James F. Byrnes

So, there it is. I took that leap a while ago and it’s all right. It really is. And if you’re thinking of doing the same thing (or you already have), I hope you’re in for an awesome, wild ride.

Words You Can Relate To

"The Valley Floor"
Oil on Panel
30x24"
2009

I posted this quote on my Facebook page last week, but figured I would post it here as well - I think a lot of artists who have been at it a while can relate to this idea:

"Painting is easy when you don’t know how,
but very difficult when you do”
- Edgar Degas

When I first started painting, I knew that I had a long way to go, but I didn't really think of painting in terms of difficulty. It was a hobby - it was fun! As a beginner, it's easy to be pleasantly surprised when anything turns out well, and I would be thrilled even if only a portion of my painting turned out the way I wanted it to.

Now that I've been at it for a few years, I've lost a lot of that naivete. The more I learn about art, the more distance I see between my current abilities and where I'd like to be. And as time goes by, my standards for what goes out the door get higher and higher (the cringe factor, I guess).

I find myself painting slower. I used to pride myself on the fact that I could knock out an 18x24" in a day, or a small study on location in an hour. Now I'm more aware that it's the quality of what I paint that matters, not the quantity (especially in this type of economy!). I find myself spending a week on a 24x30" or 30x40" painting that might have taken me half the time a year before. I scrape things more - rather than being satisfied with "almost" I try my best to get things right.

Painting is still fun, but it has become more of a challenge, and as such has also become that much more rewarding. I just have to find balance between striving to improve, and getting down on myself for not being where I want to be. The former is constructive, while the latter can be frustrating and completely detract from my efforts when I let it affect my mood. It's a tough thing to balance, and sometimes I let the negativity win.

This was a tough week for me - I was tired and cranky and had to remind myself not to get down on myself too much. I had to remind myself that if I'm being critical of my own work, it's probably because I'm improving. I found a bit of comfort in this quote - knowing that I'm not the only artist in the world who struggles with these things made me feel better, get out of my head, and step back up to the easel.

Art and Knowledge

"Dusk"
Oil on Panel
16x20"
2007

I read this quote by Scott Christensen in the February issue of Southwest Art, and I've been meaning to write it down ever since. In an interview, they ask him what the biggest misconception is about artists, and his answer is the following:

"That we just paint and it just comes flowing out of us naturally. But it has to be a learned thing. Knowledge precedes execution. Most people think creating art is a feeling. That’s like saying Yo-Yo Ma must have just picked up the cello and started playing it."

I love that because it says in so few words exactly what annoys me sometimes about the public perception of art. People assume that painting is this touchy-feely relaxing activity that requires no study or thought. I can't tell you how many people have (with genuine concern!) asked me if what I'm doing now is keeping me "challenged" enough after leaving engineering. Truth is, I love to paint, but I keep at it because it's a challenge.

Honestly, this is the hardest job I've ever had.

Every day I'm striving to improve my work and learn something that will take me to that next level. And I know that I'll probably never feel like I've "made it", because I'll always see something that needs improving. Add to that the challenge of actually making a living at art, and you have a helluva challenging job! It takes work, and it takes knowledge. And when it comes to the knowledge part, I've got a long way to go...

Under a Big Sky

"Study - Big Sky"
Oil on Panel
12 x 16"
2008

"The sky was as full of motion and change as the desert beneath it was monotonous and still — and there was so much sky, more than at sea, more than anywhere else in the world. The plain was there, under one's feet, but what one saw when one looked about was that brilliant blue world of stinging air and moving cloud. Even the mountains were mere ant-hills under it. Elsewhere the sky is the roof of the world; but here the earth was the floor of the sky."

- Willa Cather

I love this quote because the words say so beautifully how small everything can seem under a western sky.

This painting is a small study I did from a relatively bad photo I took while I was out running one night this summer. This photo doesn't do the painting much justice, but you get the idea. It's a typical Denver sunset - amazing for a few seconds before the colors fade. I'd eventually like to do a larger painting of this - probably a 30x40" or 36x48". The movement in the clouds just captivated me.

Couldn't Have Said it Better

"Primary Colors"
Oil on Panel
8x10"
2007





I was reading the new issue of Southwest Art last night and came across a couple of interesting statements by artist Woody Gwyn. They sum up a lot of my feelings about being a representational painter, and put things into words that I sometimes have difficulty explaining.

On subject matter:

I hope I transcend the subject. If your work is a literal transcription and is not done with a certain level of passion, it's just illustration. And the danger in abstract art is, if it's not done with a certain philosophical underpinning and passion, then it's just decoration. - Woody Gwyn

On choosing a life in art:

No one made me do this. I love being an artist and wouldn't do anything else. But it's strenuous. We artists don't just shake things out of our sleeves. It demands mental concentration, and at the end of a hard day painting, you are drained. The positive thing about being an artist is that every once in a while you make a breakthrough, and you really see the possibilty of new horizons in your work. Anything worthwhile is usually hard work, and you have got to want, want, want it.- Woody Gwyn

Now I'm off to the mountains for a few days. Hope you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving!

Quote of the Week

"The Last to Change"
Oil on Panel
8x10"
2007




I'm a sucker for good quotes. I tear them out of magazines and write them down on scraps of paper, and fill my notes with them when I hear people speak. Some of them are too good to lose, so I'm going to start posting them here every once in a while.

I keep this one in my studio to remind me how blessed I am to be able to paint:

“You can only become truly accomplished at something you love. Don’t make money your goal. Instead, pursue the things you love doing, and then do them so well that people can’t take their eyes off you.” -Maya Angelou

Taking the Leap

I’ve been dreaming of being an artist for what seems like my entire life. If you had asked me when I was 12 what I wanted to be when I grew up, I would have undoubtedly answered that I wanted to be an artist. There was never any question.

Somewhere along the way, I lost touch with that dream and took a big detour into engineering. Now I’m digging myself out of that hole, and feeling like I’m on the right track once again, but it’s been tough. I’ve been painting seriously for three years now, and while my work has improved immeasurably, there haven’t been any tangible milestones to imply that I might be on my way to the realization of that childhood dream.

To a point though, I’m the one who determines my success or failure at this venture, and my lack of progress so far is a direct result of my actions (or inaction, to be more accurate).

“The most difficult thing is the decision to act, the rest is merely tenacity. The fears are paper tigers. You can do anything you decide to do. You can act to change and control your life; and the procedure, the process is its own reward.” — Robyn Davidson

So, I’ve decided it’s time to act, and this past weekend was my weekend to start.

I got a kick in the pants on Friday when a gallery in the mountains found my work through a painting organization I belong to, and contacted me about the possibility of showing my work. I have a meeting set up in a few weeks to show them my paintings in person – hopefully they like them as much in real life as they did on the web!

Thanks to Nate gloating about my acceptance into the OPA show, I also ended up showing my website to a gallery owner downtown who I highly respect and trust. My work isn’t to the point that he would think of representing me (he carries a lot of very established, well-known landscape painters), but I value his opinion very much and he seemed pleasantly surprised by the quality of my work.

So the good thing is that I learned that having gallery owners view my work isn’t the big, scary thing I had thought it might be. The world didn’t end. I didn’t face immediate rejection. And best of all, some doors might have opened that were previously locked closed due to my fear of failure.

With the boost of self-confidence that came from the gallery contact, I spent the weekend assembling my marketing materials and portfolio for a few other opportunities. I sent off a package to apply for a weeklong painting residency in Southern Colorado, offered as a contest by a prominent magazine. Then I took what to me seemed to be a big leap and sent off another package to a prominent arts publication, asking them to consider featuring my work in one of their yearly emerging artist features.

Every inch of my being fought me as I put together the materials for both submissions – my brain was trying desperately to convince me that I wasn’t worthy, that it was a waste of time, that they would laugh at my submission or throw it in the trash. But I decided that I’ve spent too many years listening to those voices, and that it was time to make a move. I figure it’s better to try than to never give myself the opportunity, right?

So, here I go, fingers crossed that some of these opportunities work out. Even if they don’t, I’ve taken my first steps. And those first steps will take me farther than staying in place ever will.

“The way to develop self-confidence is to do the thing you fear and get a record of successful experiences behind you. Destiny is not a matter of chance, it is a matter of choice; it is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved.” — William Jennings Bryant