June is "Direct" month

Each June brings with it the 30x30 Direct Watercolor challenge, in which artists paint in watercolor without making an underlying drawing. It achieves two things, at almost opposite ends of the spectrum:

1. It makes you look really carefully at every stroke you make so that you can portray your subject accurately even though you have no lines to guide you;

OR...

2. It allows you to use watercolor in a more spontaneous, unstructured way.

Since I tend to be kind of uptight about my painting, the former works better for me than does the latter. I hope to try both during this month of experimentation, because one of my goals is always to be looser; but I also appreciate that painting without lines really refines your eye for structure, perspective, and detail.

Today's drawing was made from a photograph online that caught my eye; I didn't realize until after I had painted it that my first day of watercolor without lines was of a bottle of ink, which I would normally be using to do my drawing before accenting it with watercolor! So here, for my first day, is "the forbidden" for the rest of the month.

I was pretty happy with the reflections of light that I captured. I didn't get the reflection on the cap quite right—it was an extraordinarily clear echo of some brown wooden cabinets with some bottles sitting atop them, but here it just turned into colorful fuzz. But I do like the contrast that these other colors make with the rest of the drawing.

Paul Jackson watercolors, Escoda Prado brush #10, Bee sketchbook.

Down with fascism

Tonight's was an impulsive and quick study of the Michigan Secretary of State, Jocelyn Benson, who called out the fascist in the White House today when he threatened to withhold funds from the state of Michigan during the pandemic because her office mailed vote-by-mail applications to all Michigan residents eligible to vote. The great idiot first called her out for mailing them absentee ballots, which would be illegal, but that's not what she did, so she clapped back.

Riffing off of earlier criticism of the massive asshole when he referred to Governor Gretchen Whitmer as "the woman from Michigan," Benson tweeted, "Hi! I also have a name, it’s Jocelyn Benson. And we sent applications, not ballots. Just like my GOP colleagues in Iowa, Georgia, Nebraska and West Virginia."

The state authorized no-reason absentee voting in a referendum in 2018. The coward's claim is that "Mail-in ballots are a very dangerous thing. They're, they're subject of massive fraud." In fact, there is little fraud present in absentee voting (especially compared to voting machine interference), and Michigan has put in place safeguards including signature verification specifically to prevent fraud.

I read a piece online by Heather Cox Richardson about the whole thing, and someone in the comments dropped in Benson's address in Michigan and said "a postcard to her to say 'good job' would be nice," so I decided to send one. Since all I have are blank watercolor postcards, of course I had to paint something on the front, so I did Benson's portrait. Not a perfect likeness, but maybe she will enjoy it. You go, girl.

Uniball pen and watercolors on Strathmore "Kids Series" postcard.

Secrets

This one could possibly be included in my "people reading" series, but since the subject is reading her own words, I'm not sure it counts!

I'm still trying to find the secret of painting Kirsti. This one is marginally better—it looks more like her, but a blander her than the one I know. Of course, to pull it off I had to use a reference photo with half of her face covered! I will achieve it someday.

Meanwhile, it's another birthday for Kirsti, so Happy B-day, Mama! Someday I will figure out your secret!

Uniball pen, Jackson watercolors, Bee sketchbook.

Breath is life

Today's inspiration was a photograph of a masked and gowned medical worker—maybe a doctor, maybe a nurse, maybe an aide—from the 1918 Spanish influenza pandemic. She was featured in an advertisement on how to avoid catching the flu (yes, stay home was one of the bullet points), and I was arrested by the first line in the ad: "Do not take any person's breath."

It was such a weird phraseology—I'm sure they meant you should stand far enough away that you weren't breathing in what someone else was breathing out—but it sounds more like an admonition to be careful about being too desirable, which ties in to the masked-and-gowned look here. It gives the 1986 Berlin song, "Take My Breath Away," a whole new meaning, since Covid-19 almost literally takes the breath as its most serious symptom.

I painted her without any skin tones because I wanted the emphasis on the eyes and how tired and wise they look above the anonymity of her mask. So I used my favorite Daniel Smith color, Shadow Violet, to capture any nuance in the painting.

This was done with a Uniball black pen, Jackson watercolors (except for the Shadow Violet), in my Bee sketchbook.

But, let us turn to more pleasant things, such as how hot Tom Cruise and Val Kilmer were in 1986 in Top Gun, for which this song was written!

The Kiss

My Facebook friend Quinn posted a picture a couple of days ago, saying "I was trying to take a selfie of the crankiest bookseller on the block, but my tiny dog ruined it by being so friendly and adorable."

Quinn had never had a dog before Cha Cha (I don't think), and she agonized over whether or not to adopt her. She asked people all kinds of questions about human/dog interactions, she had a few play dates to be sure, and then took her little lady home, albeit with a fair amount of trepidation. The pairing has worked out beyond her expectations: Cha Cha has become perhaps one of the most pampered (and best dressed) dogs on the planet.

Quinn, as previously mentioned, is a bookseller, and during quarantine has established a nightly online story hour in which she reads aloud to Cha Cha. Cha Cha also deigns to deliver an occasional book review, her latest discussing The 101 Dalmations, by Dodie Smith. Quite a perspicacious review for such a tiny dog.

Here is the review.

"More bitches in charge," is Cha Cha's primary conclusion. Who wouldn't agree?

I found the selfie similarly irresistible, and spent my afternoon turning it into a portrait. Here are Cha Cha and her person Quinn, sharing a kiss.

Uniball pen, Jackson watercolors, in Bee Sketchbook.

Low-hanging fruit

The term "negative painting" just sounds so, well, negative, doesn't it? But what else to call it? The basic idea is, you paint the lightest colors first, in kind of a wash, and then you paint in the medium tones, and then you paint in the darker elements around the lighter items, and then your background becomes the darkest element, to make everything else pop out.

I decided to try my hand today on a painting of the lemons still hanging from the lowest branches of my tree. I worked from a photo, which is fine; I did a pretty good drawing, and washed in the palest green and some tan for the background first, then came in with the yellow and darker greens, and finally mixed a dark brown from Sienna and Ultramarine for the background.

I think the problem with this painting is, I didn't realize (until I was done) the principle that makes negative paintings so beautiful: They are not realistic. In my photograph, the "mast" on the ground that served as the background was a combination of three or four browns because it was sun-dappled by the light falling through the tree. That's fine if you are going for realism, but in a negative painting it takes away from the effect.

To show what I mean, I'm going to refer you to the website of the master of negative painting, Brenda Swenson. Although her paintings are also vastly more skilled and nuanced than mine, what you're looking at is the backgrounds, which are all smooth to the point of looking air-brushed. The subjects have a hyper-realistic look while definitely being painterly as well, and that's where I missed the boat. I will have to try this again sometime with more regard for effect and less for "how it looks."

Also, I didn't mix the greens I used very well, with the result that there wasn't enough contrast with the background on the stems. And finally, I do NOT know how to get that effect of graduated wash that Brenda makes look so effortless in her backgrounds. (I need to take her negative painting workshop!) I called this painting "Low-hanging fruit" for two reasons, one literal and one not. More effort was definitely needed.

Here is my first/second stage:

And here is the completed painting:

#H pencil and Paul Jackson watercolor on Fluid 140-lb. paper.

Selfie in technicolor

I seem to be alternating between all-art and all-reading, so that for the past week I have been reading and blogging and now I'm pivoting back to art and blogging.

I decided to try yet another selfie, only this time using some nontraditional colors. I so admire people who make portraits into which they slap every color in the rainbow. I haven't quite achieved that yet, mostly because I have this compulsive need to blend that gets away with me and doesn't leave the nicely weird shapes and planes of colors that some of the artists I admire produce in their portraits. But...one step at a time.

Here is colorful selfie me, in light and shadow, with a bun on the back of my head and a slight attitude. I don't seem to know how to take a photo without attitude. It's either smile and look dim-witted, or look serious and come across as mean. I blame Dad, whose squinty close-together eyes I inherited, along with Mom's tiny down-turned mouth. So here I am, the product of heredity.

The angles are all just a little distorted because I worked flat on my table in front of the photo on my computer screen. I have to try to remember to elevate my sketchbook a bit at the back in future to make sure that doesn't happen.

Uniball pen and watercolor in Bee sketchbook