Eleventh Volley: Updates.

I once saw a Foglio doodle of a snail straining at its shell, going "urrrrrrrr." As if it were trying with all its might to go faster and harder than it was capable. Sometimes I feel like that. Between getting caught up watching episodes of Breaking Bad, The Legend of Korra, and reading various books and anime, I've barely got time to paint. I know, distractions, distractions. Well, that and a full time job. And other jobs. As the late Levon Helm sang once, "I've got more debt than an honest man can repay." Here's a protip, kids: when your school tells you "go ahead, it's good to borrow as much money as you possibly can, because you never know when you're going to need it..." Set them on fire. Many times.

Sigh. What can I say? I was young, poor, and stupid.

So any ways, that has nothing to do with this. Presenting: UPDATES.

I took a formal color theory class recently that taught me how to re examine how I paint. Of course then I had to drop it half way through taking it because life. The idea being that I'll paint quicker, or rather, more efficiently, and thicker. At some point my paintings will be mine, instead of merely aping technique. I'm also working on oiling in, because I'm away from the painting more often than I'm working on it. I've noticed quite a bit of difference when starting back on a painting. It's easier at that point, after oiling, to get a more even spread of pigment, as opposed to building up a wet surface to paint into and move things around with. This thickness without what I'll call cheating (using meglp and galkyd drying agents to create resiny, buttery, plastic-y goodness) is more difficult for me to achieve, and it's something I hope to work through in this painting. I love the way Rembrandt paints, and in Houston; a place I make a pilgrimage to once a year; are two Rembrandt portraits. They are beautiful and I've spent many an hour staring at them. He makes his impasto look so thick, without out actually making it pile up on the canvas. I'd like to have that kind of aggressive delicacy at some point. I've also mentioned Saville and Freud before, but I'll also add Robert Henri and Sargent as masters of a looseness that still manages to create a coherent and luscious image. The masters of the "painterly" method. Painter's painters, if you will.

I'm nowhere near that league. But that shouldn't stop me -- or you, if you're of the creative persuasion, from making things. And I will probably never love ninety nine percent of what I do, but I'll try to learn as much as I can from it while doing it, and afterwards, take those lessons with me.

So the short version of it is: Hooray progress!

More next time. You know, once the framing and house(s) renovating is out of the way.

Thirteenth Volley: Oodles of Doodles

This might be a bandwidth killer. There are a lot of images here. This is the finished product for the Brooklyn Art House Co-op show. The premise was you could pay to receive a sketchbook from them and had to have it completed by the end of January. It, along with 4,999 other books of various themes will now travel the lower 48 for the next few months. It was kind of scary, working in a theme (Fears and tears), or with one in mind as opposed to trying to modify/bullshit something I already to to fit. I was paralysed in the beginning. Only working when I had an idea. It is a sketchbook after all. It's supposed to be incomplete. The idea of a body trying to fit a theme as opposed to a singular piece. As such, I was much happier about some of the drawings as opposed to the majority of them. And when I started screwing up, I would tell myself to keep going. If you added up all the ugly parts you would at least get something, while not beautiful, at least would be unified.

I figured I'd do a quick, and loose painting for the cover. Inside I stayed with sumi ink and watercolor. I started to tell a story about things I'd been through, like the loss of my sister. I'd falter, backtrack and also look for found imagery to help augment what I was looking for.

Between dead birds and burning trucks, I was looking to convey things loosely. Which was harder than I expected. There's a certain push and pull between expressiveness and context I think. I can make a very angry image, and you can get a sense of the violence of it, the energy that animates it. But I worry that that might be the only thing perceptible at that point because you lose sight of the subject matter. I like to maintain a balance of both.

A lot of the text comes from songs I was listening to at the time. Some stuff you'd expect, like Leonard Cohen. But some things came from surprising places to me. Like Sheryl Crow, or snippets of things I heard on the radio that just seemed to fit at the time. I'm no poet, but I enjoy reading it a lot. And a huge influence on both how I read it, and what I look for stylistically comes from Graham Foust. The book's title, As in Every Deafness, as well as the lines I butchered on the fourth page, come from his poetry. Which is very minimal but has a quiet and frantic desperation to it. Like the last moments of what I'd imagine some one being buried alive feels like - minus the euphoria that comes with asphyxiation.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       

Pardon the awkward line breaks. Myself and technology are polar opposites. Next time: Painting up dates!

Twelfth Volley

I'm in another show. Go me. The title is "Spirit, Hand, Vision. A Confluence of Self." But actually the idea for this piece is a response to another work. He was looking at the idea of ritual. We were (if you don't want to click the link) looking at butoh, and Baronness. I decided to tie the two even closer together by blending some Neurosis video into the mix. Or rather a more literal take on ceremony and butoh.

So I liked the idea of a ceremony, of creating something and losing oneself in the process. It's sometimes a painful journey to bear an idea to fruition. And making stuff is always a fight with me. I took a few photos for documentation this time because I always send stuff off in progress to Paul for critique. He's pretty merciless, and that's a great thing. So here's the earliest iteration. A quick pencil drawing on gessoed Arches printmaking paper, and water colored for some basic underpainting.

There's a detail.

I started with oil sticks and a turpentine wash. It became a very structural drawing. I have the build of a bridge troll, but I like drawing leaner folk, because I like bones. So I photographed a few poses of myself clinging to things and extrapolated structure and lighting from them. And then I started going into it with actual oil paints.

Oh look, something Freudian. I actually try really hard to consciously avoid phallic imagery. And by trying really hard to avoid it, means it pops up fucking everywhere, in everything I do. Oh well.

Here's a not so great shot of the submitted version. When it comes off the wall, I promise I'll shoot it better.

Eleventh Volley

So, here's a drawing I started many months ago when looking at Butoh. I started this drawing with a series in mind. I helped a friend on a job uncrating Plenza's Nomad. I asked if they were keeping the crate as it was quite horrific in its construction. Below is a panel on which I transferred the drawing. I will be oil painting this and probably playing with gilding again (hooray halos!). 

Oh look, it's a dirty studio. I should be on a hoarders show. I was in the process of kicking apart this crate, when I got a call from the guy who coordinated the install wanting to know if he could get the crate back. There was a pause, and then an "oh shit..." This panel specifically is the most damaged of the bunch. I want to progress with an idea of dissolution, or decay. Kind of like butoh. I might attack the bottom half with a hammer even more to knock some of the paneling out. I like a splintery mess on the bottom with a tight painting around the face and hands and chest and quickly falling apart. 

Here's a detail, or perhaps just a shot of the panel. So, wish me luck. Will post updates.

Fin

So here's the finished work. A little too regular in the back ground noise, but I'm pleased with the figures. Shittiest board evar. I printed it on French paper that I got from a screen printing buddy. I'm selling them for fifteen dollars a piece and actually sold four at the show opening. Which went very well by the way.

Here's a detail (ish). I used four or five different types of blacks before I found the one I liked. the results run the gamut from brownish, to raven's wing. I do like the finish of the oil based inks better. There's a softness to them that the water based couldn't provide. A richness.

I'm also entering a sketchbook show. You can, too. Other things on my plate include designing and printing a postcard for a memorial dinner for my sister, a new painting (both to be seen here soon), and an art talk I get to give to some senior college kids. We'll see how that goes, but I hope I can give something to them without becoming a curmudgeonly old advice fairy.

Continumoss!

Holy crap updates! I went out and blew my birthday money from a long time ago on carving tools. The local art supply store went out of business. Is on hiatus. Is...not here. So when I need tools now and can't afford rush shipping, I did the next worst thing. I went to Michael's. It's like going to Walmart after midnight. I think Dante wrote about it. I'm not going to knock the chain too much (please give me money/supplies/craft cred). It's not as bad as Hobby Lobby or Pottery Barn (for you southerners). Your nose is not instantly assailed with potpourri. People are not vacantly masturbating to Thomas Kinkaid prints. I think you can still get model cars and planes there, which is actually pretty sweet (note, I live in a basement and spend most of my time leveling and huffing model cement. Pizza grease has nothing on this guy's face).

Dotdotdot. Anyways. I needed carving tools because some time between here and college all of my worn and cherished set of cheap ass knives have disappeared. I used to use whatever I could scrounge from the print studio. Things with mileage on them, but goddammit, I'd put them on there. Those ink stains were from my fingers, and those blood stains-- from my enemies. All I'm saying is that they had character, and for cheap Niji knives, they actually came with a pretty decent edge.

I bought the Beck's non alcohol beer version of those. Sharpened from the factory by rabid rodentry. Actually that's an insult to rodents everywhere. I'm sure they could have gnawed better edges in to these things themselves. I also bought some actual carving tools. Shorter, sharper, more expensive. Upon unwrapping, I found that the scoundrels couldn't sharpen these for shit either.

Grr. The sad thing is, if I sit down and do it, I'm actually pretty good at sharpening things-- Assuming the steel isn't absolute shit. Give me a good chisel or knife and I can get you to shave with it. Or remove skin. I've tried with these things and jeezuzchrist. I have a diamond stone now, so we'll see if that helps. I hope to get them into fighting shape by the time I attempt the next woodcut, or at least by the middle of the run on this one.


Detail-ish. This is actually pretty small for me. The first cuts on this guy's head were done with a V-shaped gouge. They removed far too much material. This is a pine block so it has alternating hard and soft grain, meaning you have to push harder, meaning more material is removed. In school I learned on basswood, super soft through and through. This board also has plenty of knots in it, so never let it be said that I'd turn away from a challenge. The figures were all carved with an X-acto knife. And many, many blades. Each line you see is at least two cuts. The chair is primarily a small U-shaped gouge.

I had to proof it tonight so I could email the image out for a third poster. I hear rumors that this might also go on a shirt.

I'd wear it.

Tenth Volley

So, Dan is putting together a show. He's a printer by trade and wants to make the mailers and posters by hand. I offered to contribute to this. I started out with a pen and ink sketch just to get an idea.



When I was doodling, I noticed that the skeletal figure reminds me of the Hermit from the Tarot, but I remember it specifically from an old room mate's Led Zeppelin poster. It's interesting what the hermit implies. Someone who has seen and been through it all, whatever that may be, and withdraws from society, disillusioned, cynical. That's neat, but I didn't want it to be, oh hey, I lifted the hermit image from a poster for the poster. I reversed hands, I dropped the corpse/pieta body and kept the wayfaring nun.


It's faint, I know. I draw delicately with pencils now. And I'm still struggling with hesitancy. This means I need to draw much, much more. It's either that or get so sleep deprived that I just don't care any more, and then draw. I like this image better. I scrounged up some old wood that I had laying around and sanded the layers of old acrylic gesso off of it. Note to the future painters everywhere: Acrylic gesso is not your friend. I own a palm sander and go through a ridiculous amount of sandpaper to get things smooth. This is because in the sanding process the gesso actually melts to the sand paper in sticky clots that then get deposited on another section of the surface you will be doing art on. And they stick. I razored a few off, and then I sanded some more.

After a few sessions of sanding, I had a block ready to put an image on.



Neato, huh?

The legs are too short for the torso and the arms are weird, man. I'm still retouching the arms and I've since redrawn the legs, to be posted at a later date. It's a lot of detail packed into face grain of the pine. I'm curious as to how well I can stick to rendering those soft lines and things. Perhaps the carving will add some aggression that the drawing lacks.