Blog

   This is the first entry flowing into the ethers from my new computer- one of those days where more time was spent on the machinery than in the studio.  Needs must.  Still there was time for a little lap painting of the most marvelous eggplants I gleaned from the abandoned Young Gardener's plots at the Chesapeake Arboretum.  Those kids have no idea of what they're missing!  Then again, if they're like most of the members of my household, they don't eat eggplant...oh well.  More for me!

   Two paintings came back to the workroom for varnishing this week, a set of portraits.  It's always good to see them with a fresh eye- usually by the time they've left the easel my relationship with them is so up close and personal that I can't see them any more, certailnly not as a whole.  A good time to take stock, in any case.  There's always the "did I paint that?" reaction as well, a response I take to be a good thing as it indicates to me that the piece has a life of its own.
   The one difficulty in these reunions is quelling the desire to pick up a brush and change something. Now- I realize that Da Vinci noodled about on the Mona Lisa for thirty years and still wasn't "finished" but for practical purposes I find that generally one has to declare a painting done, fini. Not wholly an aribitrary absolute, but certainly more of a statement of serious intent than a cocnrete fact.  Certainly with a commission if not with the spontaneous work.
Which brings me to why I don't see myself becoming a "painting a day" painter anytime soon- I guess I'm always going to be willing to let the pieces grow a little on their own and present a new set of possibilities to act on the next morning, or a few weeks or months down the line- alright, alright- I confess, there are some which have been maturing for years in the work room. 
   

   They write a lot in the art history texts about the theme of decay in still life; momento moris, etc. etc, quack, quack.  What they don't seem to address is the idea of the artist eating the composition.
I confess, right here, right now, that it seems to work out that way more often  than not in my workspace if the still life in question involves produce.  My favorite paring knife has made its appearance again, I fear.  (Remember what Julia Child sez'- " "Always keep your knives sharp, learn how to handle hot things, and above all, have fun...")
It was delicious.
Tasted like peaches.
The preserves can wait.

   Last year's crop of Knott's Island peaches were luscious and sweet and I made many jars of preserves, assorted pies and crumbles, and licked more than one basic load of peach fuzz from my lips.  Unfortunately, I forgot to take a plate of them to the workroom and before I knew it, the season was over. Deep sigh.
   This year, I was determined to not repeat the oversight and with any luck at all, I'll be able to complete the painting before the wasps take over.

- there's just a little left to do on this rower's back- ought to show up in TenderPaint next week.  Wish me better luck next time on using brown paint.

...I have the model, now I just need to figure out how to paint tmy garden without looking like a Monet wannabe.  Not that there's anything wrong with inference in a painting, or using the layers of art history, but I'd really like to just paint my garden.