Artists – Ink, Yarn & Beer

Ink and Color

Today is one of those busy days, but I have promised myself a bit of painting or drawing every day. This morning I thought I would do more saguaros, as seen from the road on our trip to Tucson. Every morning, the sky is usually a bright, clear blue, but as the day progresses, the skies change and clouds develop. What a delight to someone where skies are blue for days on end, nary a cloud in sight!

Ink, for this drawing, is the iron gall ink I have made, and a stub pen, on watercolor paper. After it dried, colors could be applied. Perhaps the colors are a bit heavy and a lighter touch might make a more effective painting. That could be something for tomorrow.

As the watercolors dried, on the opposite page in the sketchbook are the cactus flowers were ready for more ink. Below is the original from the other day.

Part of the drawing was begun with ink, specifically the large cactus on the left. The rest was done with direct watercolor. This morning I thought I would add some ink to see how it affected the rest of the painting – did it help enhance it or make it a mess? See below.

Now I have kept my promise to myself and feel satisfied as only doing something you love can satisfy. Not a lot but a bit. Even a taste of something can make your day!

Singing a Song

I have a singing voice that sounds more like a bullfrog with laryngitis. Of all the things I wish I could do, singing is it. Particular to my heart is Irish singing, in Gaelic or Irish no less. Music is a big gap in my learning, and while I can read music, I am very unmusical. When my sister and I took piano, the dog would curl up under the piano bench as she practiced; he would go to the back door and whine to be let out when I practiced.

I tumbled across this video on YouTube a few days ago, and I found it to be both educational and entertaining. I never knew what I like so much about Irish singing, and it turns out this video showed me. The way a song is sung varies throughout areas of Ireland (N and S), and vocal embellishments are added to carry the words along. Add to that, the music is so lovely, and in my mind, heaven on aural earth is found.

Outside of the Old World, America has the largest Celtic population. Migration brought traditions, and singing is one. Time, of course, changes the “old” ways and “new” ones become the new “old”! The mountainous areas created their own cultures and traditions. There is a rich heritage here.

The above video is a bit long, but to me it epitomizes much of a culture long gone. My father’s side of the family were “mountain folk” – also called hillbillies (a derogatory term) – from Tennessee.

Besides the Celtic descendants, we also have a rich heritage of Black music, gospel and folk and spirituals. Rhiannon Giddens is a modern singer with wide ranging talents. Above she sings an original song based on an older one, and old traditions.

Gospel music always brings joy – old and new – Aretha Franklin sings “Amazing Grace”, an old Anglican hymn from the 1700s.

Altogether, vocalists are my favorite form of music to listen to. Strong voices, good stories. Mahalia Jackson, Odetta, Bob Dylan, Joan Baez, Billie Holiday.

I could go on forever, but folk music and singing always bring more to me than most instrumental music alone. That is not to say instrumental is not to my liking, but that is for another time and place. Maybe.

En Plein Air

We spent three days in Monterey, California, doing basically nothing but eating and walking miles along the boardwalk in Pacific Grove and the bike path in Monterey. We walked and then ate, and then sometimes walked some more. When we weren’t walking or eating, the activities included simply being blobs, like reading books or knitting or watching “Good Omens”. It was a really hellish vacation.

While walking in Pacific Grove, we admired trees and people and rocks and birds. Then I espied this gentleman, out in the full sun, painting a view behind me. I stopped and looked, and decided to chat him up a bit – it is very seldom I see someone painting directly from the real world. Where I live, you are likely to faint from dehydration these days.

Anyway, he was so friendly and nice! (And he let me take his picture, too.) His name is Ethan Walsh, and he has a lovely website, Ethan Walsh Paintings which I decided to visit. His paintings appear deceptively simple – they look so easy to have done, but you can see the skill and work behind them. His portraits are really amazing, especially in his ability to capture expression. I wish I could do as well. Add to that, he paints the Monterey area, and he catches the light and geography beautifully. Look him up!

This is the view Ethan was painting – Monterey pines on a rocky outcropping into the waters of the Monterey Bay. Here he is painting in oils and was using a fine brush to catch the details. This painting is very different than the ones I saw on his website, and to me this attests to an ability to move in many dimensions when wielding pigment.

Ethan – if you read this, thanks for spending a few minutes with me in the middle of your painting. I really enjoyed it!

And for those of you who are curious, these images were taken using a Nikon FM2n, 100mm Series E f2.8 lens and Lomography Metropolis film.

Moments of Inspiration

There are a lot of people who can inspire you, but how many can put their challenges into words that inspire? Here, above, we have the book Handywoman, by Kate Davies. Eight years ago she had a stroke, and went from an agile, athletic, academic woman to someone whose world was suddenly in upheaval. This book is about her recovery, but more than that, it is about the trials and tribulations, the mental and emotional and physical challenges. Being inside another’s mind in all this turmoil is one of the gifts of this book.

Simply put, it’s one of the best books I have read this year.

And, that made me get out my needles and yarn. I decided I was going to learn to knit with both hands. My preferred method is English – throw the yarn with the right – and have struggled numerous times to use my left hand to any useful degree. Continental knitting leaves me befuddled if I only use my left hand – but using both is pretty simple. (Mirrors? – read Kate’s book to find out more!) I have a problem transferring learning from the right side of my brain to the left, probably remnants of a very serious head injury when I was a kid.

Kate went from being an academic to a woman running her own business, writing books, creating patterns, and developing her own line of wools. Take a look at her blog if you don’t know who she is – I’ve been following her for years and always enjoy what she has to say.

Trying, Keeping, Discarding

I’ve returned to watercolor in the past year, trying a lot of things, and realizing that some things are just not “me” and others are “me.” This means there are styles of painting I just don’t care for – and ones I do – and what to do?

First, I think it is important to try something. This way you gain a working knowledge. This means repeat the situation a few times to learn the subtleties. The brain works on an unconscious level and incorporates that knowledge. Whether or not you continue down that path, you learn something and it is stored away somewhere in the mystery of the brain.

The painting above is a study I did out of Ted Kautzky’s classical work, Ways with Watercolor, which I bought when I was 16 with babysitting money. Three colors only, and the variety of colors is amazing. Restraint, self-control, forethought, execution, results, experience and knowledge.

And then, think about the experience. Worthwhile? Did you like it? Were you a klutz? Did you hate it? Did you like it? Do you want to move on? My philosophy about work comes into play here: learn what you hate about your job and what you love – then decide if you want to continue. That applies to painting and art in general. I like certain things and find other things not to my liking.

What I don’t like is a sense of constraint. I like painting to be an experience – but to get good at something, you have to work. So, I like free-flowing painterly watercolors. To get there requires practice and experience.

When I was doing a lot of sumi-e, I hated the brushes and the paper – they had their own qualities which, one mistake, could ruin an attempt. Eventually, though, I found some mastery over paper and ink and brush. Part of that came from knowing my materials – which paper I liked, which brushes I liked, which ink and ink stone I liked. Then I could begin mastery. Poor quality brushes shed hairs; too-porous paper spread the ink to quickly.

The same is to be said for watercolor, which I have been drawn to since whenever. However, I have scurried away from it, always annoyed with my style, with my lack of ability, with my lack of control. I still deal with it today, but now that I am on the slippery slope of old age, such things seem like foolish wastes of my time. Just do it! Do it as often as possible! To hell with the results – the experience itself leads to wherever it will lead.

Yes, I do know what I want to be able to produce. I don’t want to rely on lines to contain a bad composition or execution of color. If I do ink and watercolor, there will be a purpose for it – a reach for a particular style. With watercolor, I may need to do (and will do) value studies and use a limited palette of colors to train my eye. This is a form of restraint, but not an onerous one.