An Artist must have "True Grit" and Know how to Use It!

My husband and I were searching for a movie on Xfinity; a cheap vintage one.  We settled for a 1969 John Wayne movie “True Grit” because my husband had never seen it. We were delighted and pleased with our choice. Good old fashioned values, humor, and the simplicity and perfection of John Wayne. What more could you want?

Curious afterward about the meaning of “grit” I discovered that it referred to courage, resolve, and strength of character; a perfect description of the main character who was determined to do something important for her family and for her dead father. Her quest was difficult and unpleasant, but she met each obstacle unafraid and with true grit.

That word grit stuck in my craw for days afterward. Another definition was “loose particles of sand, stone, salt, etc.” Things I had already used in some of my paintings along with paste and fiber. My purpose was to add texture and interest.

In my mixed-media painting “Broken” I used a fibrous paste to create the texture of a cement wall, and added shapes and symbols popular in the Sixties to look like graffiti. In addition I dipped a torn newspaper article of recent disaster into liquid paste and applied it in appropriate places. 

My drawing of mother and child was left untouched until acrylic color had been added over the background and then wiped off to reveal the symbols. The figures were then painted in oil.

“Moonlight Magic” began as an experiment in texture and various colors that were mixed with fibrous paste. When it was dry I began applying various shades of blue, wiping off raised parts with a cloth to allow some of the under painting to show through. 

I had no idea what the finished canvas would look like, but I kept moving and adding paint until I had the look I wanted. Raised areas defined the final color and design.

“Auburn Nights” (shown in my last blog) was the re-purposing of an old oil canvas I was dissatisfied with and had put aside. 

Wanting to engage in frugality and needing a rough surface to define the windy unpredictability of fall weather, I painted over the canvas in reds and browns. This is a simple canvas and didn’t take long to finish. 

I did most of this painting free-hand with brush and paint. I decided that if it wasn’t perfect, I would not go back over it, but let the canvas speak for itself. I think the texture beneath the surface added to the feeling I was trying to create.

“Queen of Diamonds” is a statement in textures, shapes, and angles mixed with a bit of realism. I knew from the first that I wanted a Harlequin theme to highlight and accent the figure as center of interest. Whether I was successful or not remains in the eyes of the beholder.

A Studio Silver Creek artist shows you step by step how to create a textured background using paste and shapes: 

Watching Michael Lang paint is a religious experience. When he starts slapping on simple inexpensive acrylics you’re never sure what it’s going to look like, but he does. His technique is hypnotizing. Using a combination of brushes, cloths, fingers, a squeeze bottle of white paint and a spray bottle of water, he dips and dabs until his masterpiece is finished.

When Things get tough, find a Different Way to Work

"With These Hands -- Wonder" 1st in a Series; oil on acrylic canvas

I sometimes wail and whine about getting older. My osteoarthritis has begun to swell my joints and reshape my fingers. I can no longer draw a straight line without some help from a ruler or guide.

And I recently had contact lenses implanted in my eyes. They are “monovision,” meaning that one eye serves for distance and one for close-ups. While it’s great not to have glasses, my perspective has changed. Do I really paint what I see or is what I see distorted by my altered vision?

We all have problems as we age. Some of us were born with a disability. Others were given problems and illnesses sometimes at the peak of their careers. Life happens to us all and “shit” happens.

So you think you’ve got problems? These heroic artists continued to create in spite of their problems and well into old age.

At the end of his life, French impressionist master Pierre-Auguste Renoir continued painting — using a brush tied to his arthritic hand.

Renoir had crippling rheumatoid arthritis — at the LACMA Exhibit, there's a flickering black and white film that shows Renoir painting in 1915, despite his afflictions. His hands look like stumps of old trees — you can barely see his fingers because they are so curled in on themselves. Fabric is tied across Renoir's palms, to protect his skin.

In the newsreel footage, he clamps a paintbrush between the thumb and fist of his right hand. Renoir leans into the canvas as he paints. He talks while he works. He's lively, and his eyes are piercing.

(The Absinthe Drinker) Renoir

"I am just learning how to paint," Pierre-Auguste Renoir said in 1913 — six years before he died. The French master painted right up to the end of his life; he died in 1919 at age 78.

Edgar Degas “frequently blamed his eye troubles for his inability to finish a painting, an explanation that met with some skepticism from colleagues and collectors who reasoned, as Stuckey explains, that "his pictures could hardly have been executed by anyone with inadequate vision." The artist provided another clue when he described his predilection "to begin a hundred things and not finish one of them," and was in any case notoriously reluctant to consider a painting complete.

(Blue Dancers -- Degas) Love the composition!

He was a deliberative artist whose works, as Andrew Forge has written, "Were prepared, calculated, practiced, developed in stages. They were made up of parts. The adjustment of each part to the whole, their linear arrangement, was the occasion for infinite reflection and experiment."

1890 Degas’s eyesight fades and he does more sculpture and pastels. He does some mono-types of valleys from memories of the countryside from a trip to Burgundy.

1895 Degas experiments in photography.

1910 Degas goes blind becomes depressed and bitter, stops painting.

1917 Degas dies 27 September aged 83 at his home. And so ends the career of our greatest artists.

(Degas liked to paint members of his family)

The following “lesser known” artists have overcome monumental difficulties but continue to do what they love. Lisa Fittipaldi lost her eyesight, yet paints the most remarkable paintings. She detects the color by the feel of the pigment. Remarkable!

Courageous Artists

Days of Long Ago and Far Away Come Back to the Present

(A Stereoptican card dated 1899; tinted in color) Anfinsen Arts on Etsy

I’ve always been a history buff. I'd like to go back in time and see what it was really like. How would I have reacted? Would I have been a lowly peasant or part of the aristocracy? Would my choices have affected generations to come or would I have silently “gone into that good night” unrecorded, unknown; “ashes to ashes, dust to dust?”

When my paternal grandfather left me his Stereopticon and cards, I had intentions of passing them on to my own children, but there seemed to be little interest. At a certain point, I decided to sell them to those who would prize them and use them.

I had no idea if the cards were valuable or not. I went on EBay to test the waters. This is always a good idea to see what the competition is doing. I had one card that I almost threw away. It was of an African American couple sitting on the grass eating watermelon. I was ashamed that it was even part of the collection. Then I discovered that people are paying quite a bit for “Black Americana” of any kind. A similar card has a missing corner, and will be given away with the sale of the first.

(I'm not endorsing this by any means!  Apparently "Black Americana" is a collectible item
copyright 1897)

Humorous pairs and trios, and the early tinted cards are more valuable than others. Military cards, war ships, and major cities showing how they have changed are also in demand. I’m amused at what people were interested in viewing in the late 1800’s and early 1900’s.

People collected cards the way we download apps. The dual photos on each card gives a three-dimensional appearance when viewed through the stereopticon. Unfortunately, those that were enjoyed the most are more worn which decreases the value.

(copyright 1906)

These and other Stereopticon cards and collectibles are in my shop:  Anfinsen Arts on Etsy

I started collecting Popeye memorabilia for almost the same reasons. My grandson, Dane, did a pretty good imitation of Popeye when he was about six and that sparked my interest. I noticed that Popeye was still reasonably priced so I started building my collection. Many pieces have been sold on my Etsy site.

Antiques tell a story. They also seem to hold traces of the people who owned them. Sometimes you can feel their warmth and spirit radiate. At other times, an ominous cold feeling of dread emanates from the wood or the living material an object is made from.

(Bridget copyright 1906) A second card shows her on the table, afraid of a mouse!

Vintage shops draw me in compelling ways. I like to browse and stay, waiting for that certain something that urges me to buy. Sensing another time, another era and the hovering spirits of those who may have used each item gives me pause. The smell of old relics mingled with today’s dust hangs heavy in the air. I want to take it all in. I sit down in an old wooden rocker and listen for the whisperings of the past. A pendulum swings in cadence with a fly buzz-bombing in the window. A ticking clock reeks of old wax; its tinny bellow announces the hour.

I bask in old-fashioned comfort and linger for one last look around. A pair of tea spoons catches my eye. Small screened containers in the bowls are for holding loose leaves. I’ll take them home and reminisce about the long-ago teas I have missed and the friends I never knew.

(These are two different spoons. One opens from the side,
the other has a small lever that snaps open)

Check out my shop for artwork, Popeye collectibles and Vintage items:  Anfinsen Arts on Etsy

Ever been called a Hard Head or a Chip off the Old Block?

"Moonlight Magic" 14x11 acrylic on canvas. (remember the weird undercoating? See what I wiped out?)

As unflattering as those terms are, being called a block head or worse simply indicates that you’re stubborn, unbending, and immovable; something an entrepreneur should never be. If you can’t negotiate, if you’re unwilling to give the customer the benefit of the doubt, your sales are likely to plummet.

Give and take is what it’s all about and sometimes you learn the hard way. A few weeks ago I failed to consider the dimensions of an object and focused only on weight. The omission cost me over half of my profits. It was my mistake. I owned it. The customer’s cost was the same regardless.

By failing to do a “test run” before setting price, I was the one who got shortchanged. UPS suggested I call the customer and see if they would meet me half way. To me that sounded dishonest and weak. It was like changing the price of a bargain in midstream. So I kept my word and my customer was satisfied.

If that decision means he will be a repeat customer, then I’ll be happy. If that means he will refer my shop to someone else, then I’ll have two happy customers. That’s the name of the game. Chalk it up to the cost of advertising, part of the learning curve in business or stupidity. The outcome is the same.

Sometimes people complain even when you bend over backwards to please them. Their bark is often worse than their bite. If you make them feel they are getting a good deal, their bluster may turn into satisfaction. Rub people “against the grain” and you’re likely to lose a loyal buyer.

Wood is not only utilitarian, it is rich and beautiful. Circular grain may tell us how long a tree has lived and what it has weathered. Identifying the differences in the bark can help us determine what kind of tree we’re dealing with.

"Window on Pine Island" 16x20 oil on canvas

Even though wood wears away in time, it stays the same even when it becomes thin and overused. I’d take a wooden bowl and cutting board any day over a plastic or fabricated one. I’d rather scrub them after use with antimicrobial soap than trade them in on new models. I treasure the dark sheen that comes from use and the way wood absorbs oil and water like a living breathing thing.

My youngest son made me a small piggy cutting board when he took shop in high school. I have used it for over 25 years. One day after listening to those hyper-germaphobics, I placed it in my dishwasher, without the heat, to sanitize it. When I opened the washer, the pig had split along every grain line. The heat of the water had weakened the wood and simply dried out its life. I miss that pig!

I still have a wooden bowl made of myrtle wood that came from Seattle, Washington. It was given to me by my first husband. Today we use it to serve hot popcorn. The oil in the corn keeps it dark and lovely. I will never (are you listening?) never put it in my dishwasher.

This woodcarving of a little girl came from an antique store in Ellicott, Maryland. I love that place! My daughter lived nearby and I was visiting her that summer. The wooden figure drew my heart, all the more for its primitiveness. I suspect a beginning carver crafted this piece for the very first time.

The carved inscription says ©Somerville. I did some research and traced it to Somerville, MA; there seems to be a lot of woodcarving action going on up there. I suspect one of the many students that come and go carved this at some time and the sculpture ended up in Ellicott, Maryland.

If you haven’t tried painting wood grain, give it a try. Watch it come alive under your brush. Its exquisite sheen and grain are unique to each piece, so you don’t need to worry about mistakes. 

Even wood piling on the seashore or faded wood fences may turn an ordinary scene into a masterpiece.

(SOLD) Prints available at http://carol-allen-anfinsen.artistwebsites.com