Find your voice! What are you trying to say?

One of my favorite trees is in bloom again. I don't know what it is (water oak?) Sure wish I knew!

There are scenes that almost jump out and grab you, and you know you have to paint them or write about them. At other times there may be only a vague inclination that you’d like to try something new and so you go with it. Either way you must ask yourself: “What am I trying to say? What am I trying to illustrate or express?

Every painting tells a story or expresses a feeling or impression. You are taking your viewer on the journey with you. Where will you take them and how? What is the most important thing you want to show them? How will you help them navigate through the barrage of color and detail?

These are the seed flowerettes that remain after the red seeds fall out.
They become woody and hard.

Is your message soft or loud? Do you want to jar them from complacency or coddle them into submission? What is your desired end result? Will you think big and dream large or will you softly suppress your message to a whisper? All of these questions should preferably be answered before you begin. Then again, the painting itself may be a question that only the viewer can answer.

Painting, writing, or any art form is anything but dull. The innuendo is everywhere. The subtleties should sparkle with ingenuity and the canvas or stage should reflect your skill and spontaneity. When your story becomes contrived or too controlled people will be aware of it even though they may not know what it is that bothers them.

The Poinciana trees are again in bloom. The hot weather brought their bright red blooms in earlier than usual.

Instead of holding your imagination at bay or choking it with too much control, unleash it. Your knowledge and skill will roam freely and thoughtfully allowing you to tell your story. Where will your journey end? When will your tale be finished?

Someone once said your work is finished when you can no longer find any place to improve it. I think it ends even before that. There’s a fine line between spontaneous freshness and belabored brushwork. Hard straight lines draw far more attention than a small swipe of color that goes a tad too far or is allowed to blend into the background.

Their leaves are fern-like and feathery. The flowers grow in huge clusters like grapes.

Paint is forgivable. Wipe it out if it displeases you or paint over it and smooth out the flaws. If the first layer of paint captures your vision, avoid a second. Let that part stand and embellish around it bringing depth and richness to your scene.

Don’t be afraid to experiment. If you want to try something new, do it. You can always wipe it out and paint over it. This practice will keep your nerves under control. I know when I do commissioned work I’m always more tense worrying about what the buyer will think and if they'll be pleased. When I paint for myself, the brush strokes are more fluid and unhindered. Above all, enjoy yourself. If you are not, you’re in the wrong business.

This is half of the Poinciana seed pod. The indentations are where the seeds sit and another pod just like this one
covers them until they ripen and open. They are hard, woody, and beautiful!

The Time for Growing is Now -- Why Wait Until You’re Too Old to Dream?

(My African Violets)

Today, one of the things on my “To Do” list was “find pots and plant Christmas cactus and Amaryllis.” The cactus was a broken branch that I discovered on the original plant. It was barely hanging on and was shriveling up for lack of moisture. I plopped it into a glass of water and watched it not only take root but come back to life. Now it would become the basis for another beautiful cactus.

The Amaryllis was a large bulb my son had given me a few years ago. The first year it had nine enormous blooms!  I didn’t know how to preserve the bulb and mistakenly put it in a paper bag in my refrigerator (“store in dark cool place, right?”). Wrong!  Apparently, the lack of air and the interaction with other produce is deadly to the root.

When I discovered this, I pulled it out, re-potted it and prayed for the best. For almost two years it failed to bloom. I kept caring for it hoping that some day it would not only reach for the light, but flower. Last year I got my wish. We had 12 blooms from this amazing bulb. Now because of cooler temperatures mid-winter, she is blooming again. We’ll see what happens. I keep this plant on my lanai, which is Florida speak for screened in patio.

I love to experiment with plants. My African violets, a gift from my oldest daughter, are blooming in my kitchen window. My Kalanchoe Jeans were in two pots. I planted them directly into the ground (after all, this is the “Tropics.”) and they are now blooming their hearts out. You can get almost anything to grow down here. The only thing I’ve had trouble with is Hydrangeas. Something about the sandy soil and the acidic quality it lacks. Even adding nutrients didn’t work.

(Kalanchoe Jean)

 It’s fascinating the way plants and animals alike take root and thrive in places where they feel grounded and comfortable. Give me a place where I can settle in and make my nest and I’m happy. In fact, you can turn a tiny apartment into a show place or a hovel into a home. It’s all about attitude and the skill to “make do.”

When I was a young newlywed, I learned how to use an old Singer sewing machine that was once my grandmother's. I made quilted and stitched quilt squares and circles that adorned our bare walls. I would purchase fabric remnants and imagine what I could do with them. I didn’t realize it at the time, but that was the beginnings of my art career.

Art is all about beautifying space or making a statement. Look around at where you are right now. What could you do to enhance the space you’re in and the budget you have to work with? As one photographer said, “Find beauty in imperfection;” you can improvise and capitalize on what you have on hand.

This lovely Tiger Lily was a "jumping off" place for my imagination, and it inspired me to paint "Namesake" below, using acrylics on canvas. Let your thoughts run wild and then settle on the idea that drives you! 

 Creativity isn’t always about “selling” things or becoming famous. It’s about completing yourself and challenging yourself to become what you were meant to be and to do. 

Allowing yourself to spread your roots and grow in the direction that satisfies your long-held yearnings will make you happy. Begin creating now. Don’t wait until you’re too old to dream or imagine. Turn your “imperfection” into beauty.

(Lichen growing on a Southern Pine stump)

Thiis Artist’s Heart is at one with the Earth

"Sand Crane Dreams" acrylic on canvas

I was a tomboy growing up. I preferred monkey bars or playing cowboys and Indians to playing with dolls. When my mother couldn’t find me, I was usually up a tree, literally. I viewed every tree as a challenge that must be conquered.

My favorites were the mulberry trees that grew near our street. I’d straddle a branch and stuff my face with unwashed mulberries until their semi-tart taste had satisfied my sweet tooth. When someone walked beneath me, unaware of my presence, I felt all knowing and powerful.

From up here, I could see into adjoining yards. I knew who was home and who wasn’t. It was a hiding place where childish secrets could be discovered and shared later when the time was right. It also gave me space and time to ponder the wonders of the world and my place in it.

"Beach Buddies" mixed media on canvas

In those days I often ran around in my underpants, especially on hot summer days. Once while helping my mother with the ironing, I burned an elongated triangle on my mid-section. That was the last time I ironed without being fully clothed.

The next day, dressed in a sun top and a pair of shorts, the burn now covered with a still-wet scab, I climbed a wide-spreading oak tree. By this time my legs were so long it was easy to step from one branch to another and scale to the highest gnarled branches.

In the process of climbing, I scraped my midriff against the rough bark peeling back the scab and revealing a seeping red sore. The pain was excruciating. I scrambled down so fast I turned my ankle when I hit the ground running for comfort and a bandage.

(My daughter, Paula's, poster she created for her art classes)

I once scaled a tree so high I was afraid to come down. My mother’s younger sister scolded me at the foot of the tree and demanded I come down the same way I went up. Although we were close in age, she was my aunt, and she loved to Lord that over me. If I didn’t do what she said, she was sure to tattle to my mother.

I don’t know what happened to the girl I once was? Later in life, I was afraid of heights. I wonder now if the scolding’s and threats I received put a fear in me that I later associated with heights?

At any rate, as a teen I climbed to the top of a water tank and then was afraid to descend the ladder and come down. This was the first time in my life I’d been afraid of heights. Later, I cured my fears by rock climbing, repelling and experiencing a zip line. I discovered that as long as I focused on the cliff (or my goal), I was unafraid.

(The mountains where I grew up)

I continue to love nature in all of its splendor. There’s nothing like the freshness of pine mingled with the smells of frying bacon and potatoes or fresh caught fish on a crisp morning in the mountains. I celebrate still the wonder of God’s glory in every sunrise and sunset. I rejoice as an artist in the finite beauty and detail that I’m privileged to paint.

Build a Shine from Within, or Slather Gloss on Top? Your Choice.

When I first started painting, the glow I wanted to shine from my artwork escaped me. Why didn’t my paintings sparkle? Why didn’t they seem “alive?” I painted a shiny coat of gel or “Liquin” over the top to revive the paint. It still didn’t work.

What I later discovered is that the “glow” comes from within; caused by the differing values and contrasting colors. Coats of sheen on top can never make up for what is missing beneath the surface.

A perfect example of this is my latest painting: “Sunset on the Nile.” A friend had told me she loved painting on grey because the top coat seems to “pop.” I had always used light colors such as yellow ochre or alizarin crimson for the under painting. Experience had taught me that inner light is created from within. But what did I do? I went against my personal inclination and slathered on grey gesso. After all, my painting was an evening scene, and there were clouds in the sky. Perhaps a grey under painting would work.

What happened later reinforced my first theory. The grey under painting worked like a sponge absorbing all the light. No matter how many coats of eye-popping color I placed on the canvas, eventually it got lost in the grey and became dull and dark. I put on several coats of color and glazes to make up for the light being swallowed up by the darkness.

Moral of this story? Once you learn or discover a truth, don’t let fads or someone else deter you from what works, at least for you. Now when I see a lacquered or varnished painting, I’m always suspecting: was it purposefully done, or is it there to make up for lost luster?

I admit I’m not a fan of shiny art. The one exception is when working with metallics. The natural glow of metallic pigment may add a unique and sophisticated touch to an otherwise ordinary painting. Even better is the placing of paint directly on a metallic surface so that the frame and background become part of the painted surface.

Putting a gloss gel or gloss varnish on a painting is almost like placing a glass over the canvas. The reflections are almost as bad, and you must stand in a certain place to avoid the glare that distorts the painting. I personally love the matte finish of natural pigments and bold brush strokes. But it’s a matter of personal preference.

Personal taste is what art boils down to. We all see things from our own prism of preconceived notions and experiences. What attracts one person deters another. Thank goodness there is room for all types of art in the cultural spectrum.