Sunday, January 27, 2013

Queen and McCaul Snow

24 x 24 oil on board
As artists, we can be so sensitive. (At least I know that I am) I can have a very bad painting day, and decide right then and there that I am giving up painting. I decide that any "job" is better than this. Sounds ridiculous but it happens. I had spent the whole day on this picture, but I had it all wrong. Instead of focusing on the "big picture", the blocks of values, the abstract qualities, I started painting details right away.  That is a sure way to get it "wrong". I was so frustrated with the result, I had a knife out ready to scrape away the surface. At that moment, my son came into the studio. I asked him if the painting was awful and he said, "no, I kind of like it". So because of his comment, I took another look, got out the big brush and painted out all of the silly details. It wasn't until I got the values ok that I went in and put in some details and highlights.
 (Are we that needy for confirmation, that any little positive remark will set us on the right track?)

The painting still isn't a "masterpiece". It is somewhat too monochrome and the composition is a little weak I think. But its ok and I'm glad the knife didn't destroy it during my moments of frustration.

Do you often not follow your "own rules"?

Speaking of positive remarks, I would like to mention a couple of bloggers who are always generous and constructive with remarks. Head on over to their blogs and check them out.

Jan paints exciting evocative depictions in oil and encaustic of the Niagara vinyards and surrounding area. she also teaches.
Jan Yates "Salvage 1"


Barbara Muir said...

Hi Catherine,

Thank you so much. This is beautiful.
I remember when I was in discussions about skyping for the Oprah Winfrey show. I had an audition drawing and I was nervous. One of my sons said it was awful and I was lost. My other son looked at it, said it was beautiful and I sent it off for the deadline. Glad I did. Yes we ride a roller coaster of self-esteem ups and downs as artists, I think that's why blogging -- which is all about the positive, is a great gift.

Thanks again for the compliment. You rock.

XO Barbara

Ramesh Jhawar said...

Hi Catherine,

Firstly, I'd like to point out that the black background of your blog is very straining to the eye! As soon as I finish reading the text and go back to the image, I see it in stripes! I don't know if it happens only to me or to others too, but I would be happy if you could choose a medium dark background color (as in my blog)...just a suggestion!
Coming to the painting, I don't see anything wrong with this one! On the contrary, I like it very much! It also happens with me that often the result is not the same which I had envisioned at the beginning...but at least corrections can be made in oils!
So trust me, this is very nice and a word of caution to all - Watch the road...its very slippery! LOL

Karen Bruson said...

The littlest comment, either way, really affects my painting.
I love this one. Glad you didn't scrape it off.

Jane said...

Well, I love this painting !Love the fact that there is no fuzz even though a city scape .

Jan Yates, SCA, Canada said...

I like the quieter feel of this one-i think the streetcars are still the 'stars' of the show and the perspective/buildup/warm colour of the road leading into the scene works so i don't think it's weak at all.
i have to say that you are very brave asking family members for their opinion when you are feeling vulnerable! It is like walking a tightrope this thing we do, isn't it?
*I deeply appreciate your mention here-and also for posting my wee painting! thank you Catherine

Carol Schiff Daily Painting said...

This is a classic Jeffrey, and I love it...the perspective, the color, and those fabulous cables in the foreground.

We give birth to our creations every day, and every parent is protective of their off-spring. Artists are no different. The main thing is that every day we go back to the easel and try again!

Montag said...

You pose an interesting question about the need for that kindly remark.

The electric lines and telephone cables covered with a layer of snow made me think of fractured glass; I thought the sky had broken at the small triangular intersection of lines in the right upper quadrant.

You always remind me of Magritte:
"Ceci n'est pas un Tramway"