Art takes time, then it’s done. The painting that was on my easel for 8 weeks is finished!
In my last post I estimated I would complete the painting in 20 hours. I needed 50. You might think that I work too slowly, and you might be right, but art takes time.
Whatever I choose to paint, I commit to showing those essential qualities that intrigued me when I began. I don’t want to stop short of doing them justice.
Update!! Click here to see my video on the process of completing this painting.
How you can see this painting in person:
This painting will be on display September 2 – 30, 2016, at Alaska Pacific University.
In addition to this piece, I will be showing 3 other recent works. Please come have a look!
Fragments of Time, September 2 – 30, 2016. Opening September 2, 5 – 7 PM
Location: Leah J Peterson Gallery, Alaska Pacific University, 4101 University Drive, Anchorage, Alaska.
The time-related theme of the show prompted me to think about how time is present in a work of art.
In this post I look back at some earlier work, to see how time has, quite literally, come into the picture.
1. A story unfolds in time:
Some time ago I made this digital finger-painting of a fallen hero (perhaps Alexander).
For years, the concept lay dormant. Then recently I decided to do a pair of etchings about the the horse and hero story. This one shows the sleepy prelude.
Before the Fall, etching. 5″ w x 5.5″ h
The Fall, etching, 6″w x 5″h
First, a time of relaxation and ease, then a time of ambition and action, followed by a fall. The animals, meanwhile, go about their business, occasionally rolling their eyes. (In some ways, this is a story about being an artist. Though we have grand ambitions, our results are always flawed. Yet we keep trying.)
2. Still Life: Objects Represent Time
This sunflower has dried down to the seed head, but it still bristles with life. It is packed with stored energy, to be released in time.
Sunflower with Ikat, oil on linen panel, 11″w x 14″h
The cloth behind it is a traditional Japanese Ikat fabric. The technique is complex. Not only the weaver but also the dyer must foresee the design. For me, this painting is about taking the time to make something well, and trusting things to come to fruition when the time is right.
3. Landscape: Seasonal time
Even though the rain was pouring down, I kept working on this landscape. I needed to record the glow of color on the wet, autumn-red blueberry leaves, and how the mist was sliding across the distant hills. Late blueberry season is a very good time indeed.
Broad Pass in Mist, oil on linen panel, 16″w x 12″h
I’m out of time. I promise next post will be on a new theme. Thanks for your patience and your comments.
I appreciate hearing from you and I value your feedback. To all of you who faithfully open these emails, I want you to know it means a lot to me when you do!
Now for this post’s installment in the series How It Looks in a Frame.
Budding Willow, charcoal pencil on paper, 14″ w x 16.5″ h. This tree stands in a corner of our garden. Every year it announces spring. First come little buds, then tiny leaves, then thousands of soft, yellow-green catkins. It is an old friend.
To see it without a frame, click here.
Being a working artist has its joys and challenges, but, through it all, your support and encouragement sustain me. Thank you so much for being my audience.