When It Doesn't Work

Already this year I've had the discouraging experience of spending over 6 weeks on painting only to realize it just wasn't going to work. All the planning and design work sometimes goes swirling down and out of sight like a wad of dirty toilet paper. The frustration of realizing the painting wasn't going to ever be what I wanted was compounded by knowing I'd wasted so much time trying desperately to make it work. The more time I had invested in the piece, the more I felt I needed to make it work... and the problems seemed to multiply from there.
This is by no means the first time I've thrown a clunker. In most cases, I just put a painting away for a while and come back to it later to reassess and perhaps attempt to save the piece with fresh eyes. Other pieces seem to somehow be flawed from the moment I start putting down paint and are destined to be sanded down and re-gessoed for another try. Then there are the projects that are nothing more than a thorn in my side and the most therapeutic way to deal with them is a large fire in the back yard!
It's not easy to talk about these failures. Sure, we can say things like we learn more from our failures than successes... blah blah blah. I don't buy that. At least not with my paintings. The painting I spoke of at the beginning of this post was a 20x40 mule deer piece I intended to use as my marquee piece at an upcoming show. Failures like this leave me kicking chairs and throwing paint brushes. 6 weeks is a lot of time to spend slaving away with nothing to show for it. I don't seem to learn anything from that!

2 clunkers and 1 new panel, all back to "square one"

So today, while prepping a board for a painting I need to start for a looming deadline, I sanded and gessoed 2 of those damned clunkers that have been leaning against the studio wall. With a fresh new surface and endless possibilities, these failures have been given a chance at new life. It was a good day... and I didn't even have to start a fire.

January's Black Cloud

There are winters that seem to breeze by without much drama or strife and pretty much transition from fall to spring leaving me wondering where all the snow went. This in not one of those.
It's only January and already I've been skulking around here with a scowl befitting a monster villain on Scooby Doo. I haven't resorted to throwing things yet, but I can feel it coming. It's that black cloud again and I know when it gets here, it can be awfully difficult to shake. Otis the Wonder Dog has been staying pretty close and keeping an eye on me... frequently putting his feet up on my painting chair and giving me doggie kisses because he knows. He always tries to help, dropping his favorite ball on my foot and wagging his tail.
Keeping my mind busy with work here in the studio has kept me productive, but done nothing to improve my disposition. It was 22° outside and the forecast was calling for highs in the single digits most of the next 10 days. I really needed a break.
Knowing it would not be any warmer for the next week or so, I put my fishing bag in the truck and headed for a trout stream. At the very least, I would get some fresh air in my lungs and work some of the cobwebs out of my brain. Of course I was hoping for a trout or two, but that was almost too much to ask on a day like this. Still, I need to get out and go through the motions.
As it turned out, the fish were cooperative and I managed to catch a few. It seemed strange to hear myself laughing on the deserted stream, but the trout made me giggle. The sting of frigid air on my hands after releasing them was another story.
For 3 hours, I moved cautiously along with the wind and snow biting at my face. I'd make a few casts letting my flies cover the better areas of the pools, take a couple of small steps upstream, and make a few more casts. I knew the trout would be very near the bottom in this cold water and my flies were constantly hanging up on rocks, sticks, and leaves. But every once in a while, the line would pause and I'd lift my rod to feel the dull throbbing of a fish. Of course, under normal circumstances this would be nothing remarkable. Today, it was shear joy... if for no other reason than the contrast of my mood just hours before and the absurdity of fly fishing in such nasty weather.
I had planned to fish until dark, but could no longer feel my feet. It wasn't far back to the truck, but when I got there, my wading shoes were frozen solid. With my cold fingers operating at about 30% dexterity, I had a hell of a time getting my boots off. The wind was picking up and there came a sense of ergency to get this done. I really wanted to be in the cab of the truck getting warm!
By the time that was done, it was beginning to get dark. I carefully put my fly rod back in its case and stored the reel in my fishing bag. The truck had been running, so it was warm inside and I huddled inside letting the heat soak into my body. Again, I heard myself laughing. It's no wonder people think I'm freakin' nuts!

Post #300! Let's Talk More About Drawing...

I suppose it's fitting that I start the new year with yet another post about drawing. There are few things in life I find more enjoyable and almost nothing as important to my career as an artist. On my list of goals for 2014, Goal #23 is "Fill three sketch books!" Even for someone who loves to draw as much as I do, this will be quite an accomplishment.

I also want to test out some new materials for my drawings and studies. Perhaps a water-soluble pen or some watercolor pencils? Still, the core of the exercise is always about the drawing. These new materials will present a bit of a challenge as I will have to give myself permission to fail more than once or twice before I figure out how to incorporate them into my work. That's a struggle for me. Allowing myself to fail from time to time offers up a chance to draw with more freedom, capturing gestures and not worrying about the "finished product." They are after all, just studies. They are for me and no one else needs to see them unless I choose. Still, it's easier said than done.

I also need to do more drawing (and painting) in the field. The challenges of field studies can be daunting... especially when trying to figure these things out on your own. I've been doing more outdoor drawing the past two years than ever before. I hope that trend continues. Again, I have to give myself permission to fail on occasion. It can be frustrating as hell dealing with all the elements over which we have no control, but the rewards are well worth the effort!

With the New Year ahead, many adventures seem to be just beyond the horizon. It's an exciting time to be an artist and I intend to push myself past a few very steep challenges of personal and artistic growth. The drawings are just a small part of this, but are also the foundation upon which all other aspects of my art are built. Yes... they are THAT IMPORTANT!

Happy New Year my friends! I hope it's a good one for us all!

First Sign of Fall

Summer has been a bit of a grind this year, but I've managed to muddle through. As I took Otis the Wonder Dog outside this morning to do his obligatory sniffing and marking of everything in the yard, I noticed a welcomed sight on the other side of the street... one of the big old maples has started to turn.
The small patch of reddening leaves immediately made me smile at the thought of the upcoming season... my favorite by far. Last year, the fall weather was pretty miserable around here. When the leaves were turning, rain and wind ripped them from the trees as fast as the chlorophyll began for fade. My photo files typically bulge with with shots of fall color, but not last year. My photo outings were pretty fruitless, so my hopes are high that this fall season will be spectacular. 
Of course, the possibilities of fresh venison, wild mushrooms, spawning trout, and a myriad of other appealing goings-on has my blood moving and sends me into this fine day with optimism and vigor. Time to smear some paint and perhaps... a hike a bit later :)

Black Cloud

It’s funny how life sometimes throws speed bumps into a seemingly smooth ride. I’ll be cruising along feeling pretty good about the direction of my work… then something throws me into a tailspin. For some reason, it seems to take longer for me to recover than “normal” people. It’s like a storm cloud rumbling in the back of my mind. Some days the cloud sits on top of me like an anvil and I struggle to accomplish anything. Other days it’s more distant and less ominous. But that black cloud is always there threatening to unleash a storm that might wash me away.
It’s been almost impossible for me to paint the last few days. I’ll dob a few blobs of paint on one of my current projects, but find myself sitting there staring at the panel while the paint dries on my brush. So I busy myself doing mindless chores around the house (cutting the grass, vacuuming dog hair, washing the truck) trying to work my way out of this funk. An accomplishment of even the smallest task seems to help. Just doing the dishes makes me feel a little better.
I don’t buy into the whole “tortured artist” thing, though a gimmick like that would probably score some points with some of the bigger galleries (don’t get me started on that!). I don’t think you’ll see me dressed in rags and skulking around quoting ominous clichés from some Goth handbook anytime soon. I know people who do weird stuff like that. They think it makes them interesting, but it just makes them weird! I know my mind doesn’t work like everyone else’s. And that’s okay. I also know this will pass.
The answer for me is usually somewhere in my work… either painting or drawing… or perhaps an extended road trip to shoot some reference material… or a phone call from an artist friend (sometimes writing about it helps too!). It’s out there and I just have to keep working toward it… one foot in front of the other.
So the black cloud will pass… hopefully sooner than later… and life will get back to normal. The cloud will come around again. It always does. But it never keeps me down forever… and Otis the Wonder Dog is always here to help me through the tough parts 

My best bud :)

Potential Cures for the "Slow Show Blahs"

Recently, I displayed my work at a small local nature art show. The woodland setting of the facility is perfect for this type of event. I’d done this show for several years (since it the very first one) and the attendance was usually moderate, if not at least enthusiastic. Typically I do a fair amount of business… at least enough to cover my framing costs. Then it happened… the bottom fell out of our world economy… collectors began to panic… and casual buyers dissolved into the woodwork. Everyone was cutting back… including artists and show promoters. Advertising dollars certainly don’t go as far as the once did. Postage and printing prices are still on the rise, so newsletters and fliers are often difficult to justify. The combination of all these factors have some small shows in a downward spiral from which they may not recover.

In the midst of all this turmoil, some artists (myself included) may have a weekend show go by without a single sale. When that happens, it’s hard not to question everything about a career in this chosen profession. We all have a need for validation and there’s no better way to quench it than the sale of a painting. There is also no more crushing a blow than an entire weekend show without a decent lead.

There are elements in this equation beyond our control (weather, economic climate, simultaneous events, lazy show promoters, etc.), so it makes no sense to worry about them. On the other hand, there are things very much within our control that often go ignored. EVERY ONE OF THEM need to be analyzed and addressed:
Subject matter – When we hear artists use the term “inspiration,” most often this is closely related to subject matter. As a painter, I love to paint subjects that move me. My art is a reflection of my personality… as it should be. Unfortunately, sometimes these subjects don’t overlap with what’s actually desirable in the marketplace. So there has to be some middle ground… or balance. It’s impossible to work for long without inspiration, yet there are bills to pay and food to put on the table (Otis the Wonder Dog would be very upset with me if I had to cut back on his beloved Beneful!). So we end up “prostituting” our talent at times just to promote a little cash flow… a necessary evil for all but the most successful artists.
Quality of art – This is a huge complicated can of worms and I could probably write an entire book on the subject. Briefly… with art being such a subjective market, actual “quality” is almost impossible to define. In the end, the artist can only put forth his/her best effort. And if that’s not good enough, it’s time to do the necessary work to get better. Attending workshops and getting better reference material are always a good place to start. Becoming a better artist may not show immediate financial results, but in the long run, it will energize your efforts and be evident in your finished product (at least that’s what I have to believe to push myself forward).
Gimmicks – Personally, I hate gimmicks. That being said… gimmicks sell. It’s a fact. If you’re comfortable “hiding treasures” in your paintings like a “Where’s Waldo” puzzle, fine. You’ll probably make a million dollars while I wallow in relative obscurity, but don’t expect me to acknowledge it as “fine art.” I just can’t do it. On the other hand, I’m always contemplating ways to set my work apart from the masses. There are literally hundreds of skilled painters out there and it’s difficult (if not impossible) to make your work stand out on artistic merit alone… especially with the majority of the buying public doesn’t give a hoot about artistic merit!
Pricing – In a stable market, it’s acceptable and even necessary to bump pricing structure up 5% or so annually. The problem with that is when the market tumbles and collector dollars become scarce, it’s very hard to go backward. Collectors having purchased your work in the past expect the value to increase. Reducing prices shows an inability of your work to hold/increase its value making it a less than desirable investment. Once that word gets out, it’s very hard to recover. So in a sense… you’re stuck.
Attitude – This is the biggest mistake I see artists make. You never have to ask how sales are at an art show. You only need to assess the demeanor of the artist… and a surly artist will almost NEVER sell a painting. In reality, the whole “tortured artist” thing is tiresome and will serve no other purpose than to drive people away from your work. The only thing the we can do is keep smiling and talking to people. Treat everyone that comes through the door as though they have the potential to be your most prolific collector. It’s not easy, but if people like you, they want to see you do well and are far more willing to part with hard-earned dollars.

It’s times like these when I (once again) realize just how important my collectors, fans, and supporters are. No matter what happens, I know this is my life calling and I’ll survive. Thank you all.