Not Every Step is Forward

I'm going to call this one done. It's got a lot of things about it that I like, and quite a few I don't. I'm not terribly invested in it, in other words, it's more of an exercise than a personal statement. Judging from that criteria, it has value: I have learned a good bit.

This is the first thing I have painted since April (? I think.). This past six months have been consumed with the move from Saint Charles, downsizing from a 4000 sq. ft. house that Tim and I had lived in for 17 years, to a 1300 sq. ft. St. Louis townhouse. And here I am, a mere six months later, sitting in my new studio, evaluating my first piece and deciding on where to go with my next. 

The last few paintings in Saint Charles were painted in a blacked out room, one light bulb over my set up and one over my painting, trying to get one clean source of light, no fill, spill, or indirect light. I was searching for the lost edges and subtle variations of color in near darkness. And really, I am as pleased with those as anything I have done in a long time. 

So, in my beautiful new north light studio, I am able to paint from the consistent lighting that changes little in color or intensity for hours a day with no supplemental source of lighting. This first composition actually surprised me, in that I was able to achieve those same lost edges in such a light filled environment. The conclusion is that the edges are "lost" in the contrast of light, not the lack of it. 

I love this new environment. First of all, I'm not working in a basement. Secondly, my big arched window looks out onto a lovely urban park that is now in the throws of autumnal transformation. However, as in my last home, my studio is placed conveniently where I can grab coffee, let the dogs out, toss in a load of clothes or even make lunch, without feeling as if I have to change gears or disconnect from painting.  In fact, it's an advantage.  I don't know how you work, but for me, I need to pull away from the canvas several times an hour, sometimes for an extended time. If not, I lose perspective, become overly focused or just get excessively tired. And I am the worst at "changing gears." This feels natural and effective, and I don't feel torn.  Granted, sometimes I do like to fool around too much, but hey, I'm not working on commission right now. I can afford to have fun with the process as, I hope, the result! 

             

Permission

Christmas Card Production

One thing I allow myself is a messy studio. It's dusty, dog-hairy, slightly disorganized, and comfortably grubby.   The studio is my sanctuary and I am at peace with my own disorder and dirtiness, whereas the rest of my domicile must conform to some image of domesticity, order and cleanliness.  The 'house' is reasonably organized and when clutter accumulates beyond a certain 'acceptable' level it must be purged! But, other than the studio, there is no place in which I am completely at peace, at rest, because of there being something which always needs doing. Tidying.  Cleaning.  Painting, repairing, whatever.  Here there is no standard, no image to uphold. It's just my place.  All of the brushes, paints, computer, monitor, cables and cords,paintings, sketches, calendar, books, easel, library table, rug, cabinet, slop sink, watering can, dogs, smudgy windows overlooking the yard, closeness to the greenhouse and across the hall from the kitchen, just a stone's throw from the pottery studio and my garden makes it just about perfect. And perfectly messy.