A square attempts to bring order out of chaos here in this demo from the Patina workshop last weekend. The last touch was a bit of scumbling over the rough surface with a finger dipped in bronze paint.
Workshop demo: acrylic on textured surface, painted foil and mylar collage on w/c paper
Try looking in the mirror. This personhood has so many fun house distortions . Open those windows and the pieces buzz around and fly out. Airborne they eventually become stars and find their way home to a green planet somewhere you are.
On June 24 and 25 I’ll be teaching a workshop on one of my favorite techniques – achieving the look of patina in experimental mixed media painting. At the moment my studio is strewn with my own experiments and ideas I want to share. There are a couple spaces left in the workshop at this writing. Let me know if you’re interested and available to come join us!
My latest experiments in the art laboratory explore the territory of “patina”. They are usually a response to the query “I wonder what would happen if. . .” and in this case. . .if I wet the watercolor paper and paint into it with iridescent paints. The metallic particles drop out of solution on the wet surface causing spontaneous “events”.
Lumiere’s Halo Blue Gold and Metallic Bronze and Golden’s Iridescent Bright Gold acrylics and Higgen’s Black India ink on w/c paper (with plaster of paris medallion)
The frustrating thing about these patina paintings is the difficulty in photographing the reflective paints, so you’ll have to use your imagination because they’ve gone flat in this image. The lovely blue is actually the blue portion of the Blue Gold as the gold is left behind by the water.
Imagine the treasures that surface on the trails we walk. Then again imagine the ones packed within the earth’s core. The restless imagination becomes a geologist digging deeper into that landscape, more wondrous and bizarre, that cannot be seen with mere eyes.
And then it surfaces again, to the just-enough-loveliness of everyday to sweeten this perplexing gift of life.
I’ll be teaching a new version of Experimental Mixed Media Painting: “Patina” at Sebastopol Center for the Arts on June 24 and 25. There’s still a couple spaces if you’re interested! For more information visit my website.
Sometimes I just want to look at the blossoms and not remember the storms that brought us here. Look at the green and the lacy morning dew and imagine that this world is mine, as is, right now. Not just in process and needing to be weeded. Not because it all will soon enough disappear, torched by summer’s draught. But just because it is right now. . .mine.
acrylic textures (molding pastes), acrylic inks and collage on w/c paper, 10 X 11″
It is apple blossom season here in Sonoma County. You don’t want to blink and miss it! You don’t want to miss the butterflies fluttering through the garden, drinking apple blossom nectar, mating, and laying eggs on the pipevine. Gardening is a great excuse to be outside with hands in the dirt, and art making gravitates always to these spring colors and forms.
In Muse group we were playing with a wide variety of texture making tools and many of the acrylic mediums now on the market, from molding paste and crackle paste to gels with clear flakes and pumice. You could spend a fortune in the art store gathering up the various mediums to get texture. It’s what happens when you put fluid paint over them that excites me.
I’ll be teaching a weekend mixed media workshop June 24 and 25 where we’ll be using textures like these to achieve the light casting sparkle of Patina! For more information and to register please visit my website.
inks and gesso on w/c paper 10 X 11″, workshop demo
There’s teeth in this one, a snarl through bared teeth, a jagged fence, a bit of slime. I am dying to get away, but held in place with a fascination at the bizarre beauty of the scene unfolding.
Go ahead and take me to the edge where all the action is, where sea meets land, nature meets city, good meets evil, and life unspools in alternating increments of stress and peace. Black and white are always holding hands and taking turns.
Wet some shapes on the paper, squirt on some inks. Tip the paper. Add gesso and scrape through it, picking up some wet ink with a notched scraper. Move the fingers in to smooth some passages, mixing gesso with ink. Now meet the image which has appeared.
This was the first exercise in the Wabi Sabi workshop, to let the inks talk.
“Chrysalid II”, inks, gesso, pencil, collage on canvas 24″X24″
In his book Wabi Sabi: Further Thoughts, Leonard Koren shares the quest for beauty that led him to explore more deeply the wabi-sabi way. In his definition of beauty he writes:
By “beauty” I mean that complex of exciting, pleasurable sensations-ostensibly emanating from things – that makes us feel more alive and connected to the world. Often these feelings are accompanied by a compelling sense of truth, goodness, and/or love.
I can’t think of a better explanation for why I paint! But it goes beyond that to an honoring of life, with all its natural processes. Wabi sabi is a celebration of the roughness and unevenness of life as it unfolds in bumps and starts, one forward and two steps back. I imagine the gnarled old apple tree in my garden that wears its age with the grace and originality as I aspire to. The rusty garden implements, the grasses draping over my walkway, and in my studio – the torn paper and textured surfaces I love to paint on.
What are we saying with the thrusting of our skyscrapers? It’s a dicey brand of supremacy. But nevertheless one which I’ve lately become intrigued with, from my vantage point in the bucolic countryside of northern California. My son, the California boy turned Manhattan based architect, has charged my imagine with structures of consciousness-bending design and detail. How can our structures reflect the designs inherent in nature so that we can live more harmoniously? Curvy ceilings, living roofs and glass walls that bring the outside in! Oh yeah.
The art lesson here above as my favorite, inks and gesso moved around with water and a sense of adventure. The cityscape came right out of National Geographic and found the sweet spot on the page where it appeared to be either rising out of or being swallowed up by the mountain. You pick which.