Momentum

Evening's Shadow oil 14 x 11

Summers are a busy time for me.  One show is stacked on top of another, my galleries are selling work, the crowds are bustling in the resort towns near where I live.  Much of what I had to do happened in July.  I have finished painting for my Solo Show (more to come in my next post).  I have wrapped up my wet paint event in Crested Butte. August does have some teaching responsibilities, but for the most part, marks a winding down period for me.

Many artists experience the "post-show doldrums."  A lot of energy has gone into producing a show and it can be a time to reassess one's goals and sometimes the what-next can stop your momentum. So, I have learned over the years that it is important for me to line up specific projects for myself after a period of intense creation.  Otherwise, I lose focus and my production wanes.

A few ideas:

• Sign up for a plein air event.
• Line up some commission work. A specific assignment and deadline keeps you from aimlessly trying to paint.
• Visit a place that inspires you.
• Go to the nearest art museum. Study the artists you admire.

Maintaining some kind of schedule helps me immensely. Sometimes I have to do a few bad paintings to get back into the swing of things, but I do find that I can get back to my normal routine fairly quickly if I follow some of the ideas listed above.

Plein Air vs. Studio Work

Afternoon on the Blue oil 9 x 12 SOLD

We had a late Spring this year, but I have been spending more time outdoors painting plein air pieces recently.  It is good to get out!  The immediacy of the outdoor experience can't be matched. When I do get out to paint, I get hooked on being outside.  There are challenges like the wind and the bugs, but the light is more true and the colors more vivid. It is an important tool for me.

I spend more time in the studio than I used to.  Winters are long and deep here and I have learned that I am more productive leaving the plein air work to the other seasons.  I do enjoy applying some of the knowledge gleaned from being outside to my studio pieces.  I also find I can slow down with the studio work and control my technique a bit more inside.  I think both approaches complement each other and each serves a very different purpose for me.

I painted this piece on the banks of the Blue River on the cusp of Spring.

Bread and Butter

Before the Run-off oil 14 x 18

I am in the midst of painting a body of work for a solo exhibition at the end of July. In preparation I have included many pieces that I consider my "bread and butter" works--those paintings that I know are sought by my collectors.  They follow a previous series or have a wider appeal. For me, these include paintings of aspens or water elements and reflect the local landscape. Sometimes I resist these images, but they do create a brand for me and they spur other sales.

I try to also include work that is a little more experimental.  I think it is important to explore new subject matter or new approaches that may be a little riskier.  It keeps the work fresh for me and sometimes even leads to a new thread that will prove to be my bread and butter. I don't go too far off route with these pieces.  I'm careful not to introduce a new style. They still feel like my other works, but they often speak about my goals as a painter and may be less "saleable", but they keep me motivated.

Me and Leonardo

Leonardo da Vinci

I admit that I DESPISE finishing paintings.  I like the first session where the idea is fresh and exciting and I feel hope about the outcome. If I could make every painting alla prima, I would.  But, alas, I can't...

I spent the day going over the unfinished paintings in my studio.  I need to have a body of work completed in the next few months and it is imperative that I finish those that should be finished.  Generally this means that I am adding detail or changing shapes or fixing edges and sometimes I don't get it right and the whole painting goes down the tubes. AND I FEEL LIKE I'VE GOTTEN NOTHING DONE. 

In addition, the unfinished paintings tend to be the ones that I lost interest in half way through, and there is nothing that makes you feel like you should just give it all up for a waitressing job like bad starts. I can spend hours trying to make a bad start work to no avail.  BUT, I did make some progress today and I have a line of FINISHED and partly wet paintings lining my walls. HOORAY!

Leonardo da Vinci rarely finished his work.  I think oftentimes he had moved on to the next thing in his head and lost interest in what he was working on at the time.  But, that's a guess.  I wish I could say I was half as talented or ingenious, but I can't. HOWEVER, I did finish something today.

Recharging



Relics oil 9 x 12

A while back I wrote about cabin fever--the urge to be outside during the long winter months. April has arrived in the high country and the weather is chaotic and unpredictable.  The trees remain bare and the snowbanks are receding but dirty and the landscape is rather unappealing. Definitely not the stuff for hanging on your wall.

When I need some inspiration for upcoming shows, I have found the best thing to do is get in the car and drive to points south to recharge.  Taking in a different landscape, warmer weather, and unmuddied roads allows me to sit at my desk the next day with a clearer head and new ideas. We drove to Salida over the weekend and though there is just a tinge of green, the snow has melted and the ranches are filled with new babies and it was just good to get out and see the promise of Spring. I have been busy the past few days painting from that trip with a renewed energy.

The Creative Drive

Spring Line Study oil 9 x 12

I can't imagine a life where I didn't use my hands to create something. I paint because I am driven to paint. It is difficult to explain the creative drive to anyone who doesn't wake up in the morning excited about what they may make that day. When I was an illustrator, I remember thinking that I couldn't make work without a set deadline or a specific assignment.  What would I choose to paint everyday?  There were too many choices and too many risks. I didn't have the vision to just paint. Who would pay me?

There were gaps of time between illustration assignments and I started to yearn to paint what I wanted to paint everyday. It was difficult to sort out what was important to me at first, but after a trip to Taos to make monoprints, I started to have more clarity about what I wanted to create. And I began to work. Ideas flooded my head. I was in tune with my environment. I wanted to paint it--loosely and with a focus on shape and brushwork. I got cranky if I couldn't get in the studio and work. I didn't need an assignment to motivate me anymore. I had found my creative drive.

What motivates you to paint? Is it your creative drive or something else?