Lost in painting

Painting is slow work for me. But meditative. I fall into a kind of trance while I'm working. I usually listen to episodes of This American Life. They go for an hour so at least when one is finished I know how much time I've spent on the painting in one sitting.

I considered logging the hours I spent on one painting and I actually started doing it with this latest one but then lost the motivation. I think it might be dispiriting to actually know how long it takes, from start to finish.

 

I think I would rather just enjoy the process. Getting lost in it.

Painting, drawing, writing

New work in progress

For the next few months I need to prioritise painting.

I'm working towards a small exhibition of my paintings at the end of August and I really need to get stuck into it. I have only ever exhibited in group shows and so this is fairly nerve wracking but, at the same time, very exciting.

I have also just started a new sketchbook but I am in the early stages of experimenting with a new approach so I probably won't be posting so many sketches for a while until I work out what I'm actually doing with it.

What I do know is that the first few pages have involved a lot more journalling and I'm really looking forward to exploring words and pictures and seeing how things unfold.

So I might be a little quieter online than usual, but I feel like this is a really exciting time of working towards goals and working out new directions.

Sketchbook frustrations and reflections

Today was one of those rare afternoons when I got to go out on my own and sketch. I was pretty excited setting off.

But everything I drew left me disappointed.

Part of the reason for this was that I was trying to experiment with media and styles. Another part of it was because the first thing I tried to draw was a complicated building facade a little beyond my skill level. And lastly, I was feeling self-conscious.

I've come to realise that although it's been fun drawing in a big sketchbook (A4) it is limiting in lots of ways. I feel almost oppressed by the paper size. What is a worthy subject for this scale of paper? (A grand city building or similar is my usual choice.) How will I fill/frame the page? (Awkwardly.) Do I have enough time to do this size justice? (Rarely.) And will people come over to have a look? (Yes.)

The better of the two sketches I did today. The first one is best forgotten altogether.

I think this size sketchbook was a little bit ambitious for me at my current skill-level and, more importantly, at this point in my life when I rarely have the luxury of time to fill the page.

I've realised a smaller book suits me, and the small, quick sketches I'm more likely to be able to complete. I only have a few more pages of this sketchbook left and I have to admit I'm relieved.

Here are the things I learnt today about how I want to approach sketchbook journalling and drawing:

- don't be disheartened, keep drawing
- keep experimenting (with media, style, subject)
- keep it small and manageable
- take your time, don't rush, avoid approaching the drawing with too much self-consciousness
- avoid fussy building facades (for a while, anyway)

I'm still in the process of discovering why I keep a sketchbook and what purpose I want it to serve.

I think I am ready to try and keep only one sketchbook (rather than the several books I have strewn about for different purposes).

I want to have that linear chronology of skill and idea development. It's almost like you are writing and drawing your life story, as it happens. The record that this creates will make it easier to connect the threads later - of story, of ideas, of how you got to where you are and who you are.

And I am attracted to the idea that I will be able to actually locate my notes and references (rather than trying to find the needle in the haystack of random journals and sketchbooks kept concurrently).

My purpose, at this time, for keeping a sketchbook journal is threefold:

- drawing as mindfulness practice: being present, a form of meditation and connection to self
- drawing to practice skills and improve ability
- communicate a personal vision: this is how I see things

(That last one is something I am trying to build my skill level up to achieve.)

I often get frustrated that my skills aren't up to my vision. The picture in my head is so complete, but the marks on the page are inadequate.

But I like the advice given by Cat Bennett in the book I have just devoured: The Confident Creative.

Start from where you are.

The Confident Creative

A quick sketch and coffee before a grocery shop

'When we approach drawing as a salutary practice, we're not drawing to create something to put on our walls or even really to get "good" at drawing; we're drawing to be fully present in this moment and to know ourselves as we are - beings of spirit, unique, creative, and compassionate. That's what shows up in our drawings. We can enter the place of peace and happiness every time we sit down to draw. When we know it, we can take it with us as we step into the world.

'How to do a drawing practice? Just show up, day after day.'

- Cat Bennett in The Confident Creative: Drawing to Free the Hand and Mind

Loving this book at the moment.

Lone Pine Family Tree

Today is Anzac Day and four years ago on this day I brought my first daughter home from the hospital, my beautiful little newborn. My thoughts about Anzac Day are now also mixed together with this memory.

Lone Pine Family Tree

This is a painting I did a few years ago. I would probably do it a bit differently now but the idea behind it is still powerful for me (read more about this work here).

I think a lot about legacy, memory, meaning and history. Both in personal terms and on a grander scale. Even more so now, as a mother.

I like that this is a day of reflecting and remembrance.

I think history is important.

Painting process

I try to capture so much detail in my tree paintings that it takes a long time to complete just one.

I can spend a couple of hours working on a section of the painting and afterwards it will look like I haven't done a thing.

Sometimes that can be disheartening. But there is a certain point in the process when the tree seems to come alive and that's when it gets exciting.

The other night after an hour or so of work Kim walked over to have a look and said, 'it looks like you've actually done something'.

Maybe I'm getting faster? It doesn't feel like it though.

Because of this detail in the paintings, I tend to destroy brushes. Not on purpose, of course. It's just that I tend to mash them up a bit to create certain effects.

I looked over today and saw I have quite a collection of brushes that have seen better days.

I'm fanatical about this particular kind of brush in a very specific size. I have been known to buy out a shop's whole stock at one time!

They're relatively cheap, which means I don't mind mashing them. I have also tried more expensive brushes but they just don't respond in the way I need them to.

I keep these old brushes because even though I can't do fine detail with them anymore, they're still good for pushing paint around.

This week in sketches...