Emma's Hair

It's no secret that Emma Petitt has been one of my biggest influences for the past several years as I have evolved a portrait style. She's the one who got me to take up acrylics again after a very brief and somewhat unsuccessful few months way back in my 40s; she then introduced me to the idea of creating a dynamic substrate of bright colors and stenciled patterns that I love so much; she showed me a new way to paint, starting with the lights and adding the darks rather than vice versa; and she had a big hand in causing me to be (a bit) more spontaneous with my painting.

She's also a favorite human being of mine. In addition to making fabulous, colorful, quirky paintings of women and, lately, dogs, she also works constantly and tirelessly to save puppies from certain death in the corner of Spain where she lives. Nobody there in the countryside seems big on spaying and neutering, with the result that unwanted litters arrive on the regular, only to be left abandoned in fields and beside roads, dumped in trash bins and (horrifyingly) thrown over walls by the people who own the dogs but don't want any more. Emma and her friend Rachel have taken on a mission to retrieve, nurse, raise, and place as many of these puppies as their homes and resources can handle, with the help of part-time foster parents they have recruited, and it is a big and never-ending job. I have unending respect for them, and also, it's a good thing I don't live on the same continent, because if I did I'm sure I would have about 12 dogs by now!

I had big fun a couple of years ago painting Emma in her own approximate style (left), although she says I made her look 15 years younger; I have also painted her with Pippin, one of her pups, in acrylic inks, but lately I received new impetus, because she chopped off all her hair into a fun and flattering style that I would adopt myself if I were a little braver. I was all set to make an acrylic portrait when our Facebook friend and portraitist Jane Armstrong beat me to it, so instead I opted for a pen and watercolor portrait from the same reference photo.

This photo had her posed in front of a tiled wall, so I picked out a stencil that reflected sort of the same feel to use as backdrop; but it ended up being way too busy, the blue and gold making her look sallow and also fighting for attention, so I dragged a thin dry coat of white acrylic over the top of the background to knock it back. Her shirt was black, but I thought that with those fabulous green eyes, she needed something to make them pop.

"Emma's New Hair"—stencil, Uniball pen, watercolor, and a little acrylic on 140-lb. Strathmore watercolor paper, 9x12 inches. (Working on the Strathmore today made me remember why I so appreciate Fluid coldpress; the Fluid is infinitely more workable and forgiving of multiple coats, lifts, etc. But I couldn't find my pad of Fluid—I think it's in the car with my workshop kit—so Strathmore it is.)

If you would like to know more about their puppies, go to ER Puppy HQ on Facebook. If you would like to make a donation to buy formula, food, and the many veterinary services that most of these poor babies end up needing, there is a Go-Fund-Me here.

Determined to paint

I have been so focused on my physical health (or lack of it) and all the stuff I'm having to do in order to get the tools I need to try to fix it that I haven't been making any art, which is essential to my mental health. One problem is that sitting still for long periods isn't good for either my lymphatic circulation or my general mobility, but also I just haven't felt inspired, intrigued, or motivated lately. But for some reason today I was determined to paint; maybe it was teaching a draw-and-paint workshop last Saturday that made me realize how out-of-practice I am. So I dragged out a fun reference photo I've been saving, and spritzed my watercolors.

This is a Victorian mug shot, and I liked it for a couple of reasons; she looks so disconcerted, like "What did I do to arrive at this place in my life?" and I kinda feel like that too, lately! Also, these old mug shots are in either black and white or sepia tones, so I can pick my own color combos without any regard to the reference photo. I can do that anyway, but this makes it easier. I think her clothing and hat were actually a rather dusty black, and her eyes were probably hazel, but hey, I'm the artist here!

This is drawn with a Uniball, and is all watercolor except for that poison green background, which is Daler Rowney ink, and the white highlights in her eyes and mouth, which are acrylic paint (because my Signo pens have all dried up and need replacing!) A bit of her is cut off, top and bottom, because of the height of my scanner.

"Victorian Mug"—watercolor on 140-lb. coldpress watercolor paper, 9x12 inches.

Using color and line

I am forever grateful that in 2020 I signed up for Deb Weiers's "Wonky Friends and Critters" class through Kara Bullock's art studio. This was the best beginning I could ever have had to the whole process of portrait making, as odd as that may seem. It gave me permission to play, to try new media in combination with old favorites, to push outside—far outside—the boundaries that had previously seemed immoveable. 

Every once in a while, I like to venture back to using some of the techniques I learned from Deb. Although I had been a contour drawer for many years, using a pen to do my urban sketching or flyer illustrations for the library, using it for portraits was a step beyond, and also using it in a free and easy way—doing double-line drawings, for instance, to loosen up the precision I expected from myself and have some fun. I also had painted in watercolor for almost all of my art-making years, but had never tried the neon-bright colors of acrylic inks, and those were a revelation. But Deb was the one who taught me to let the colors dictate the painting instead of the other way round, and to use unexpected colors to do the expected things.

So, today, when I wasn't feeling inspired to get dug into a new acrylic painting on a board, I decided to do a lighthearted drawing/painting of my friend Phoebe, who is deliriously happy (despite the political climate) to have moved back from chilly Virginia to warm and balmy Florida. She has been lobbying to return there ever since her husband's job took them up to the Capitol, and he finally got a job transfer back "home." Despite all kinds of issues with the move (their house deal fell through and they had to rent something and put half their belongings in storage for a year), there are nothing but smiles (and beaches and bathing suits) on her Facebook page.

So, in the wonky tradition of the class in which I actually met Phoebe (and so many others of my long-time online artist friends), here is "Phoebe Really Likes Florida!"

Uniball pen, white gesso, white gel pen, Daler Rowney inks, on 140-lb. Fluid coldpress watercolor paper, about 9x12 inches.

Painting and photography

I returned, this week, to one of my favorite models, who reliably posts wonderful photos of herself on Instagram that are just begging to be painted. But I started reflecting, while halfway through this one, on what it is that I'm doing, and whether it is truly creative or is just sponging off of someone else's creativity.

The portraits I paint are, for the most part, faithful to the reference photos. There's a different background, usually, and I may crop parts out or pick an unusual angle, but I am always attempting to capture a likeness and sometimes also the clothing and accoutrements provided by the model and photographer, so...what, exactly, am I producing that is my own? Yes, I'm showing my skill for faithful copying, and sometimes adding my own color sensibilities to a black and white photo or to one whose colors aren't pleasing, but otherwise...?

It's true that most people who paint people use models of some kind, or photographs, but unless it's a commissioned work meant to look like its subject, often that's just a jumping-off point for an image that the artist then adapts to their own aesthetic to the point where the subject would be unrecognizable to their own mother. Up to this point in my painting "career," I have taken pride in my ability to catch a likeness, but does it go beyond skill and become art simply because I have rendered it in paint? I'm not sure.

I know that I am enjoying making these backgrounds by using a stencil to mimic nature or wallpaper or whatever. I know that I like being able to make the model pop with my use of color. But I'm going to have to think about the rest of it and see whether it's time for a shift in perspective.

This is, once again, Jenell del Cid, dressed up to look (at least to me) sort of like a Spanish flamenco dancer, with her upswept 'do, long beaded earrings, and waist-cinching dress. You have caught her checking her look in her hand mirror before she goes out for the evening. Her dress was odd, and I thought about changing it, but in the end left it vaguely similar—it was a flower print, but it wasn't an all-over pattern; instead, the flowers were scattered here and there on a paler field. It almost felt too busy to add the flowers, against that stencil background, but I went ahead.

This one is a little more "painterly" and not quite as blended. I had a little trouble with the scan (I have to do 12x16s in two parts and Photoshop them together), so the actual painting has more hair at the top and a little breathing room, and the mirror is also not quite so close to the border as it is here.

Acrylics, pencil, stencil, on thin birch board, 12x16 inches.

Something different

I have workshops at the library coming up during the month of July. They are mostly contour drawing or watercolor, but for one workshop the librarian who hired me asked, Can we do something that somehow relates to summer reading club? You can imagine that those were magic words to utter to me, the former librarian and current readers' advisor who loves nothing better than to paint what I'm reading! So we are going to ask the participants to bring what they're reading (or go out into the library and find something on the day), and we're going to draw and paint the books.

I wanted to show them the kind of thing I have done before so it would inspire them to do something fun, so I made a flyer featuring drawings of single books, books with a scene from the story as background, multiple books in one drawing, made-up book covers for those books whose contents you love but whose cover is wholly inadequate (or downright ugly!), and a portrait of a person reading his book. It's a little busy, but I think it will serve as both flyer beforehand and template during the class. I hope the librarian likes it...

Rose's hand

As an artist friend pointed out, if you enslave yourself to copying photos, you will get the bad along with the good. That was certainly the case with this painting of "Rose"—I painted her hand exactly as it was, and it looked raw, unfinished, and amateurish next to the rest of the painting, even though I was faithful about copying it. As Phoebe said when I showed her the reference photo and asked for advice, "Well, I'll be! you did paint it exactly as it is. It's just not nice looking!"

I had the option of leaving it and justifying it to myself by saying "that's what was in the reference photo," or making it better—either by painting it out altogether (Phoebe's suggestion, and it was a good one) or by substituting another hand. I was tempted to just paint it out, but my stubborn streak took over, and I decided I wasn't going to be conquered by that hand. It was a "duh!" moment when Pat said, "Um, can't you find a photo of a hand that will work with this pose? I've heard of editing parts that just don't look right...." I don't know why this didn't occur to me, on my third or fourth try, but it didn't.

I went on Google Images and searched for "hand on chest" and "hand on heart" and found three or four, but nothing with the exact angle of the original, so I got a little creative and substituted something entirely different. I put my painting into Photoshop Elements, then pasted in three different arms/hands at 60 percent opacity so I could see through to angle and line them up with what was there, and then used the one that worked the best without extending past her chest.

I painted out the old hand, painted in the portion of chest revealed by moving the hand, and waited for it all to dry. Then I drew in the new hand and arm, and painted them as they appeared, being careful about angles and positioning.

Ninety minutes later, Toni popped up on my Facebook feed and said "You can take a picture of yourself in that pose. It may be easier than finding the perfect reference photo." Visualize me slapping myself in the forehead. It's probably just as well, though; I have my father's giant ham hands and it probably would have looked even more like it didn't belong to Rose.

I can't claim to be a hand pro yet—this one still feels less expert than the surrounding portrait, and doesn't quite feel planted against her chest—but it's exponentially better than what was there before (you can see the old one if you scroll down to my previous post).

Thanks, everybody, for the encouragement (and all the suggestions that should have been obvious but somehow were not!).

"Rose with Roses #2"—with replacement hand! Pencil, acrylics, and stencil on thin birch board, 12x16 inches.

Questionable decisions

This is today's painting—this is Rose. I named her that because she has such a sweet, romantic look to her (the reference photo is an old sepia-tone), and also because I decided before I painted her that she would have a floral background. I ordered some new stencils after the fun I had with the one I used on Janell last week, and one was a cluster of roses, which seemed perfect.

My original plan was to do the background in a darker green and the rose pattern in pink; but after considering that her complexion would be primarily pink and that her simple dress (which I liked and wanted to keep) was a neutral color, I took a risk and made the roses yellow. I liked the combination of the vibrant green and creamy yellow when I painted in the background, but since I painted Rose in the foreground I'm wondering if I made the wrong choice. The background to the photo was extremely dark, and I didn't want that because her hair would disappear into it; but I may have erred too far in the other direction. I wanted the effect of her emerging from a garden, but it's kind of a loud garden!

I thought about redoing the background but the disadvantage with using a stencil is that the texture is there, and hard to cover, even with a thick impasto of paint, and since the portrait itself is relatively smooth, I didn't want a rough-looking border around it. So I'm going to leave it for now and ponder whether it's worth risking the portrait to make the background something more congruent with the figure.

The other challenge with this one was that damn hand. I repainted it four times, and I'm still not happy with it. It is in the exact position as the one in the photo (I made sure, by opening the photo in Photoshop Elements and then overlaying a photo of my painting at 60 percent opacity so I could see both), and the vagueness of the hand is similar to that in the photo, but it looks unfinished and amateurish to me, in comparison to the rest of the portrait. If any of my artist friends have suggestions, I'm listening! But for now, I'm giving up and going with it.

"Rose and Roses"—pencil and acrylics on thin birch board, 12x16 inches.