Of Snakes and Art

Amazing Tree

At Bona Dea in Russellville, AR, this tree stands sentinel on the trail near where I met the snake two years ago. I am thinking it would make a great home for an angel snake.

Colors That Make Your Skin Crawl

On Saturday morning, I mixed a color to cover the foreground of a new painting.  Right away, even on the palette, it did not seem right, and instead of starting over, I kept trying to save that pile of paint by mixing more of one of the pigments into it.  Then I added titanium white and it turned from blue/green to grey. 

I had not been working with acrylics for a while and clearly there were some properties of those pigments that weren't working like the oils. 

I went ahead and brushed the mixture onto the canvas and kept trying to work blue into it.  Then I left it.  I came back into the room later and had this twinge in my leg and my stomach when I looked at that color.  On Sunday, I looked at the color and the skin on my arms felt like small snakes were crawling up it.  I guess that is what is meant by "making your skin crawl."  Early Monday, I got a big brush and painted white over the offending section of the painting.  I am not sure I can save the painting, but I did learn to not abide a bad color even for a minute. I am afraid it poisoned the other colors I painted before the white-out.

A few years ago, I bought a book called The Luscher Color Test, which analyses personality based on someone's preference for certain colors.  Maybe there is something to the philosophy after all.

Snake Work in Progress

Just to update you on the progress of the new snake and tree. . . .

She is looking at the apple, thinking about it.  The tree is heavily pruned to the point of looking almost cut down.  Eden is not what it once was--a lush verdant oasis in a hostile world.  The trees, however, refuse to die.  They still have a few leaves and fruit waiting to be plucked, and Snake is still considering what to do with it.

What shall we title this view of Eden?

Painting Big

For "New Snake and Tree," I chose a 24" x 30" canvas that was waiting in the basement.  It's plastic wrapper coated with dust, that canvas had been around a while.

Looking at the more recently purchased smaller canvasses sitting there, I suddenly had this feeling of claustrophobia.  This is a larger painting. 

Two years ago, when I had to put a few things into my Explorer, say good-bye to my house and home, and head north, I suffered some sort of artistic trauma.  I became obsessed with "small."  Everything had to fit into a plastic box that I could quickly grab, throw into the back of the car, and take elsewhere. 

I obsessively check the National Hurricane Center website to indications of any tropical cyclones.  This year we learned that not all hurricanes give us days of warning.  Humberto went from depression to hurricane in 16 hours before slamming into Beaumont, just a few miles away.

But it is now October 14 with nothing on the horizon but cooler weather and water.  Two seasons have passed and I am relaxing about things.  Something has told my psyche that it is again okay to paint big. 

New Snake and Tree

A few days back, I was tired from teaching and everything else, so I put my sketchbook in my lap, took a pencil in my hand and began to idly draw a familiar motiv. The colored pencils were sitting there and soon added their spark.

Here it is. We'll see how the drawing translates to canvas.

Stay tuned.

Cleaning the Studio

This morning I came into my studio and looked at the large canvas on the easel. Last evening while talking to my sister on the phone, I had sketched in the rough outlines of the potential painting. The drawing was not ready for paint. I was not ready to draw.

Instead, I started straightening up. I found a shelf in the closet that was woefully in need of attention, as it had been for over a year. I found a basket of paint that needed moving to the basement since I would not be using those paints for a while. I sorted out a box that holds old sketchbooks. I fixed a large plastic jar to hold my larger brushes and then rearranged how the brushes would sit on the table.

You get the idea.

Here is the question: Was that work-avoidance or warm-up?

Either way, after about thirty minutes, I was able to start drawing.

Why I Paint Snakes - Part 1

Lust
by Gay Pogue
7.5 x 7.5 inches
Gouache on paper

Why I Paint Snakes - Part 1

1) Snakes are easy to draw, just some squiggly lines.
2) People pay attention to snakes. They may love them; they may hate them; they do pay attention.
3) Since I paint mystical, magical snakes, no one can tell me whether I got them right or not.
4) Good snake stories abound.
5) I am supposed to paint snakes.

Over the next few posts, I will tell stories of catalysts to my painting snakes exclusively. Some attempt will be made to tell the story chronologically; however, I find that as I write my memories, I remember even more.

Maybe as I respond to the promptings of The Snake, she will reveal why she spurs me on to set down her sagas.

Brush Mojo

Yesterday I treated myself with a trip to Texas Art Supply, not the mondo one in Montrose but the satellite version near NASA, south of Houston. It’s nine dollars worth of gas from my home in Galveston to TAS so I do not go often, ordering instead from large warehouses in the East.

After getting my cart and a smaller basket to hold the little stuff, I usually start with the brushes--a whole row with tiers of brushes from all over the world. Since I have to pick them up and feel the hair and consider the heft and spring, it takes a while. The folks at TAS are cool and never say anything when you take your selection over to the water fountain to check what will happen when it is wet. Yesterday, I picked two small brushes to use for detail work on the new oil series. I have a great set of Isabey’s for water media, but not wanting to adulterate them with solvents, naturally I need some new ones. However, I have to confess it is more than that.

New brushes just may be magic. They represent the hope that the brush matters more than my skill.

We’ll see.

The Episcopal Church and Visual Arts

A couple of weeks ago, Brie Dodson of The Episcopal Church and Visual Arts asked me if I would like to make a submission to the Making Art section of the Sketchbook blog for ECVA. Of course. Several emails and phone calls about art and blogs prompted me to expand on a post from this blog regarding studios.

Check out the whole ECVA website for some great art and commentary.

A chapter of the ECVA is gathering energy in the Episcopal Diocese of Texas. With the people involved so far, we can expect great things from this group. If you are interested in joining, email me and I will give you more information.

Sketchbook?

In response to a recent post about sketchbooks by Brie Dodson in the Episcopal Communities and the Visual Arts Sketchbook, I wrote the following comment.

"For some reason, I gave up using the sketchbook. I have instead broken sheets of 300 lb. Arches into smaller squares and rectangles. I carry a few in my purse with a pencil and eraser. Then back in the studio if I like the sketch, I go ahead and paint it, finish it ready for hanging. If not, it goes into a shoe box. Somehow this is working for me. One small sheet of paper does not invite much comment, and does not weigh much in my purse.

A whole book was just too much.

I can give the finished cards away or sell them or just thumb through them to cheer myself up."

Some of the paintings I have posted recently were born from these sketches done on the fly or in a plane. The plan and hope is that someday some of these wee works will become large canvases. If you come visit me, I will let you look at the shoe box.