Giving back

This is another painting in my new series "Nooks and Crannies". This odd corner in the Phoenix Art Museum struck my eye. What attracted me was the radiant blue opening with the exit sign glowing and the empty chair, along with the reflections in the floor. To me, it is a mysterious and lonely spot.

This week I'm helping a friend with a workshop and also giving a talk entitled "Magic, Drudgery and Technology" at the local library. In addition, I'm meeting with the teacher of Las Artes GED class to talk about resuming my weekly volunteer art classes with her group. That's why I called this blog Giving Back. Generally, I find that in doing something for friends or community, I get back more than I give. For example, this morning I spent some time with a group of quilters talking about space and different ways to give an illustion of space to a flat surface. It was great fun and so gratifying to share what I know with them. Yeah me!

Making so much art

I've been busy! I went to a wonderful and inspiring workshop early in December at Brio, an interesting art space in Scottsdale, Arizona. The workshop was put on by my friend, Nancy Reyner. She's the author of The Acrylic Revolution, and a truly inspired teacher. The artists in the class were all quite accomplished, so it was interesting to learn from them, too. Got to stay with my very best friend, which added to the fun of my 3 day workshop. This was the first actual workshop (not class, I've had plenty of those) I've ever attended. I can't even begin to describe how much I learned. Yes it was fun, but also really hard work.

Got back to Ajo and went to work in my studio! I decided to try a new tactic and started 8 new paintings at one time. I'm working on a new series, called Nooks and Crannies. My goal was to complete this group by December 30. I got all but one of them done. Working on a number of pieces at a time seems to be a more efficient way to go. I think it's because when I get stuck on one, I can move onto to an array of other paintings. Somehow, the solution comes to me by the time I get back to the problem child.

Pricing artwork

Pricing art work is one of those things that most artists don't like to do. How in the world do you put a value on what you put your heart, your time, your ego and your money into doing? This is a particularly painful thing to contemplate during economic hard times. Should I mark those paintings down, down, down?

A friend recently suggested to me (actually more than suggested) that I raise the prices on my art work. I said "What, are you crazy?" The fact is that my pricing has remained the same for fifteen years. While raising the cost of anything is totally counter intuitive right now, that's just what I did.

There are many ways to calculate how much to charge for art work. Looking at other artist's pricing (if the work is comparable at all to yours) and charging accordingly is one way. Keeping track of the time it takes to create a work and figuring out an hourly wage is another. Being totally arbitrary is yet another.

I used to charge by the square inch. Most people flinch when they hear that. How cold blooded. How cut and dried. Well, I decided to go back to my old method. The thing that's nice is that once a decision is made about the square inch charge, it's easy to calculate a price for every painting.

But what about the tiny painting that took twice as long as a larger one to create? What about the piece where the materials were way more expensive than other paintings? I just figure that it all evens out eventually.

A good decision or a woefully bad decision? Stay posted.

Reed Calligraphy II, Finished at Last

I've kind of lost track of how long I've been working on this painting. It's done (I think). All artists have their own personal creative process. Someone asked my a while back how I came up with the idea for this painting. Good question!

I took quite a few snapshots of reeds and reflections during a camping trip way last February. I did a painting using one of the shots I found interesting (Reed Calligraphy I, see previous blog). I had a whole series of additional photographs and set them aside, unsure of what to do with them and moved on to another project.

Then, I really really felt like painting and realized I'd let myself run out of canvas, stretchers and panels. I panicked. I rooted around in my storage closet. There were 4 long skinny masonite boards, scraps left over from other projects. You know, those things you keep just in case they might come in handy some day.

I pondered how I could use them. I cut apart a bunch of the reed photos into strips. Hmmm. The beginning of an idea was forming.

I scrounged around again, and found an old abandoned stretcher without canvas. It was the perfect size for the 4 boards, leaving a little space between each. I nailed them onto the stretcher. I applied coats of gesso to prepare the surfaces.

Making 4 long skinny paintings didn't seem like it would work. So I decided to divide each panel in half, making a total of 8 images. In order to separate the images on each board, I made a border around each one. I added texture to the borders to separate them even further from each other. That gave me the idea of contrasting the smooth, shiny water with the rough texture of the borders and the matte of the reeds.

I played around with organizing the photos until I felt like the sequence made sense visually. Voila. I started the painting as soon as the boards were nailed onto the frame and gessoed.

The ideas developed as I worked. It would have saved time if I have planned the whole thing out from the beginning of the process, but apparently that just isn't the way I work.

Does the painting work? I don't know. Sure would love to have someone click on the comment button and tell me what they think.

Back to work!

It feels great to be back to work. While the space looks like a disaster, I know exactly where everything is. I'm starting two new paintings (on the easels), while completing a third (on the work bench, facing backward). The table is covered with stuff for my box making operation. If you go back into the archives, there are photos here and there of the boxes I paint. Not showing in this photo is my press (you can see just a bit of the wheel in the lower left corner of the studio picture. I have room to be working on prints while doing all of the other stuff you see. This is just the way I like it, with lots going on all at one time.

Moved In–More or Less

I ran into Jimmy (one of the guys who moved my heavy stuff into my new studio on Monday evening). He said he's grateful for BenGay. Apparently, I was right that carrying awkward things up what seemed to me to be a very steep flight of stairs was indeed a major ordeal! (See last blog to admire staircase).

I spent the better part of the day yesterday getting art supplies organized and put into place. Hopefully I'll remember my organizational thinking when I go to find various items.

Now it's time to get back to work. I plan on starting a whole variety of new projects, luxuriating in my more expansive space!

The Steepest Stairs

This evil set of stairs slowed down the progress of moving into my studio! The top photo is from the 2nd floor looking down. The other view is looking up. Neither do justice to just how steep and long this staircase is. After many, untold numbers of trips up and down with boxes of art supplies, I got stuck. My bigger items (desk, etching press, tables, etc.) are way too heavy for any normal 2 people to manage.

I used all my ingenuity to round up two extra strong people willing to do the dirty deed. Just as I was about to give up in despair, I was rescued by Jimmy and his nephew. Stay posted for how it all turned out.