Mara Schasteen | Expressive Naturalism

Brian Neher - "You Be the Judge"

noreply@blogger.com (Mara Schasteen) — Tue, 07 Feb 2012 16:07:00 +0000

If you haven't already, take a moment to look at Brian Neher's You be the Judge art competition.

What I like about this contest is that Brian is hosting it because of his desire to create opportunity, to teach and to inspire other artists. Entering the contest is free, yet the grand prize package contains valuable prizes such as art books, painting materials and instructional DVDs.

I am blessed to have a painting selected in the first round of top 15 entries. I'll need a few votes to continue to the grand prize round. Please pop on over to Brian's blog and vote for your favorite. If you are an artist, don't hesitate to enter, too! The contest runs through April, so you have plenty of time to participate!

"Backyard Chickens" detail

Mara Schasteen, Come on Down...

noreply@blogger.com (Mara Schasteen) — Mon, 16 Jan 2012 15:35:00 +0000

My blog has won an award! Nominated by the talented Kevin Minzer. To quote my notification:

The Liebster Blog Award has been given to

Mara Schasteen - Expressive Naturalism

Kevin Minzer - Maine-ly Painting.

Liebster is a German word that translates as
favorite or dearest.

The award originated in Germany

and is intended to recognize up and coming bloggers.

Those distinguished by this award have
fewer than 200 followers.

In keeping with its pay-it-forward tradition,

I have nominated the following blogs for the award:

Laura Kurk

I've blogged about Laura before. I could blog about her daily, probably. She gets this award from me hands down because her blog is soooooo real. If you have young women in your life, or know of any, get them to this blog. Laura is a young adult writer with one published novel under her belt and another right around the corner. She pretty much rocks in person and I love her!!!

Kevin Minzer

If Kevin hadn't already won the award, he'd be on my list, as well. His blog is mainly about painting, but he is so stinkin' funny that his blog would be fun to read even if one couldn't draw a stick figure.

Natalie Hunsaker

Natalie is a dear friend, fellow artist and young mother. We met via the Stroke of Genius Portrait Artist Forum and hooked up in person a few times for painting. Natalie is incredibly gifted as an artist, but her focus is definitely her children and her passion for her spiritual journey. Her blog keeps morphing into new things, but she has a heavy focus on deafness and cochlear implants -- as her oldest child was premature and has experienced many medical challenges thus -- as well as prematurity, religion, politics and Biblical imagery! WOW! This chic is busy.

Fresh Insight on an Older Painting

noreply@blogger.com (Mara Schasteen) — Thu, 12 Jan 2012 17:38:00 +0000

Last month, I got my hands on an older painting of mine that I hadn't seen for almost two years.

"Yuck!" I exclaimed as I took a fresh look.

The painting needed varnished, but it needed more than that. I sat it up in my studio and stared at it for several weeks considering how I might use some of my newer knowledge and experience to re-work it. You may recognize it...

"A Little Dance"
MSchasteen ~ 2010

There was a lot about this painting that I liked. In person, the rich color and simple strokes in the flowers were a pleasure to take in. The background, however, left something to be desired. It seemed to compete with the energy in the subject and some of the impact of the color was lost.

Last fall, Jeff Legg taught me about glazing as well as how to consider using "space" and darkness to create a more sublime image. I decided to shoot for a bit of mystery and do something I rarely consider: going darker.

Using Gamblin Galkyd as a medium, I mixed Raw Umber and Ivory Black and began glazing the background in layers. I was timid, so it took about three layers to get to the new value I had envisioned. Once complete, I took a clean bush and removed some of the glaze to reveal bits of color I didn't wish to become dull and to break up some of the even glazing. I was fairly satisfied with the results, but something else kept nagging at me: composition.

Perhaps it is because of our "widescreen" culture, but I dearly love landscape dimensions, so I started cropping (in my mind). I agree that the original crop is not horrible, but I figure if I am going to do this, I'm going all in. This painting is linen on birch...so hello, table saw.

Finally, I am pleased. Actually, I like it a lot! Can't wait to get it into a nice, new frame. In celebration, I gave it a new title and will spice it up with a new signature, as well.

"Balance"
11" x 20" ~ Oil on linen/birch

Bathwater Coffee and Pin Curls

noreply@blogger.com (Mara Schasteen) — Fri, 06 Jan 2012 17:13:00 +0000

Yesterday my three year old daughter, Emme, was taking a bath while I stood at the sink twisting my hair into pin curls – just like my granny taught me. Emme splashed around with her bath toys which consisted only of measuring cups and spoons and a mug.

“Ear you go, Mommy! I made you coffee!” She exclaimed, holding out a mug full of warm bathwater. As I pinned my last curl, I bent down and sipped my special bathwater coffee and realized it was time for a blog post.

Emme post bold roast bathtime

Life changes. A lot. Mine has changed so drastically in the last couple months, I don’t even know where to begin writing about it. In context with my art and career, life had really presented me with some challenges. It had me down.

The reason I wanted to write about bathwater coffee and pin curls is because a month ago (even 6 months ago), I would never have bent over and lovingly sipped my daughter’s coffee and I would certainly never be twisting my hair into pin curls. Those two simultaneous events symbolized a marked change in my spirit and my priorities. Many more changes have occurred and show themselves in handmade plastic canvas coasters sewn by tiny, uncertain fingers, an unfinished wool blanket sitting in a basket by the fireplace, a simpler schedule, a slower paced life, six pair of muck boots by the back door and fresh baked bread on the kitchen counter.

My dear sister in law, Sam Schasteen, and I had some long talks over our time together during the holidays. Sam is one of those super beautiful, stylish, smart women whose inner wonderfulness is difficult not to envy. God sent Sam and her husband, Kyle, a special gift 3 years ago; a gift that no one can deny was handpicked just for them. Maddie came all wrapped up in a five pound bundle with tons of hair and an extra chromosome. She was born with Down’s Syndrome and to make a long story short, Kyle once said to me, “I want a shirt that says, Down’s Syndrome: What’s the Down Side?” Sam has approached her mothering of Maddie with incredible enthusiasm and heart and I have watched their family’s world become more perfect by the day. Comparatively, my world was feeling disconnected and just plain hard.

I shared some of my feelings with Sam. She directed my thoughts toward my life as a mother and she got me reading, among other things, a book entitled, Simplicity Parenting.

Since I began reading the book, my thoughts have traveled from, “I’ll never paint again,” to “I’m quitting my job as a teacher so I can paint during those few hours a week.” Most importantly, however, my priorities have been given a kick in the pants. Suddenly, I’m not just trying to survive each day. I’m reveling in each day. I’m not counting down the hours until bedtime, I’m savoring them. I’m not depressed because I have no creative outlet, I’m sewing and simplifying and enjoying my house in the country. I’m not encouraging my kids to “go play,” I’m chasing them through the house and tackling them for a good old fashioned wrestling match. I’m even having fun.

Brielle inside one of our many clothespin and fabric forts

A telling image from our kitchen: this is me making a handmade doll with vintage fabric, there is my son Taylor behind me strumming a guitar and you can even see our binoculars handy for enjoying all the wildlife that wanders through our yard. Not a lot of painting going on around here, but a lot of creativity, nonetheless.

The parallels of the ideas in Simplicity Parenting to making art have astounded me! I may not be painting a whole lot over the next year, but I will be growing in a deeper, more philosophical way.

As I gain understanding in using the extraordinary power of less, I will continue to apply it to making art and I’ll try to write my thoughts to the blog as often as life allows.

Coming up, “My House is a Still Life.” Not to be missed. :)

God bless.
Mara

To Everything There is a Season...

noreply@blogger.com (Mara Schasteen) — Thu, 10 Nov 2011 15:02:00 +0000

Happy November 10th to all my art friends around the world! I really felt the need to drop in today and write a little update about what I've been doing lately. As you know, I haven't posted to the blog much in the last few months. The main reason for this is that I simply haven't had time to paint! AAAH! I miss it so...I've only had about 3 opportunities to work in the last three months and although sometimes I think it's killing me, I know that my time is coming when I can paint as often as I'd like. To everything, there is a season. For now, I must get these little ones nurtured up into lovely little people.

My three beauties: Brielle, Angelina and Emmelyn.
Not pictured: one super handsome, all grown up young man, Taylor.

Another reason for my lack of blogging is that we are moving! We've been working on this deal for several months and it is finally happening next week! I'm neck deep in cardboard boxes and packing tape. I am not even sure where my paint is. We've been blessed with the opportunity to buy a house in the country where our chickens can scratch around for miles and our plans for a miniature milk cow and some honey bees will surely come to life. I will also have a bright new studio space that is just for me! Once we are settled in, I hope to hire a nanny once or twice a week and get to work!

View of my new (still empty) studio. Once I am moved in, I'll post more images.

I would like to share with you some of my recent successes. Though I am not painting, paintings are selling! It's so exciting! My painting, Orchid, sold in Calistoga, California at the Oil Painters of America Western Regional Exhibition hosted by Lee Youngman Galleries. I was thrilled to receive that news! Davis Gallery in Sheridan, Wyoming has sold several of my works lately including Backyard Chickens and Petunias.

"Petunias"
16" x 20"

I feel very undeserving of what I have. Truth is, I am undeserving. For some reason, however, God has chosen to bless me and my family. Despite my failed commitments and lack of strength of character at times, The LORD still has me living a life I hardly dared to dream of years ago. His faithfulness astounds me. No matter where I go or what I do, God is there waiting for me at the end of the road; patient, forgiving, delighted to bless me again. This is what believing in Him is about. This is what learning to love Him is about. As I mature in my Christianity, I learn more and more often that we just can't put God in a box; we cannot mold Him to fit our expectations and we cannot pick and choose what to believe. God must be experienced. To experience Him, I guess we just need to be near Him as wholly and as often as we can. To live life reliant on our own ability to achieve success means to live a life of failure -- failure to ever know what "success" really is.

I hope you are all having a week rich with blessings and true successes. As always, feel free to email me with any art related questions or prayer requests. I'm always happy to oblige!

Happy Painting!
Mara

The Chickens are Coming!

noreply@blogger.com (Mara Schasteen) — Mon, 24 Oct 2011 23:01:00 +0000

"Backyard Chickens"
12" x 20" ~ Oil on linen
unframed

I am placing "Backyard Chickens" up for sale this week - for this week only! If it doesn't find a good home in the next few days, I'm planning to enter it into an important national juried exhibition where it must be available for sale in order to qualify.

If you are interested, please send me an email at mara.schasteen@gmail.com and I will send you a larger file to preview and all the juicy details. Thanks so much for your support and encouragement!

UPDATE

I am happy to announce that the Backyard Chickens found a home! This painting sold within 24 hours of my announcement. The Lord has been so good to us. God bless. -M

A Week With Jeff Legg

noreply@blogger.com (Mara Schasteen) — Fri, 14 Oct 2011 20:04:00 +0000

I recently had the honor of studying with Jeff Legg in his studio in Estes Park, Colorado. Believe me: this was one of the best weeks of my life! There is so much to write, it's too much. I've decided to share a few photos for now and I plan to incorporate some of what I learned into some future blog posts. Enjoy!

View from outside Jeff's studio

Jeff had a lot of still life items for us to choose from

Jeff's first demonstration

Jeff's third demonstration

This is the set up for my first painting

"Brass & Pears"

This is the set up for my second painting

"Cobalt & Clementine"

What a guy! A great artist, teacher, mentor and now friend. Thank you for everything, Jeff!

Some Challenges of Alla Prima Painting

noreply@blogger.com (Mara Schasteen) — Thu, 15 Sep 2011 15:13:00 +0000

Recently, a friend of mine (who is an extremely talented artist) was looking for ideas about building lighter paint on top of darker paint when working wet into wet. She was experiencing some of the common issues with alla prima painting such as top layer strokes scraping off underneath layers, highlights mixing too much with the ground work paint, and paint not sticking when applied on top of wet paint.

I wrestled with all these challenges as I began experimenting with single session, wet into wet techniques. At some point, I made a discovery that was so huge for me: alas, when painting wet into wet, I don't have to build my lighter values on top of my dark! What a novel concept!

I almost always (99% of the time) paint my paintings in one session. Wet into wet always. The solutions to the challenges are many:

Quickly paint in the dark values, then wipe out the paint where your lighter values will be placed. Wipe with a paper towel, a finger, a clean brush dipped in solvent, etc.

In "Three Chickens," I washed in some dark values first and then wiped away the basic shape of each chicken with paper towels and a brush dipped insolvent. It was a wonderful technique for creating a variety of edges. Before I began painting in the white chickens, I continued to darken the background around my wiped out shapes.

Use mediums sparely, if at all. I have found the use of mediums kills most alla prima efforts. You lose control, things dry faster, etc. I think mediums are great for effects that can be achieved with layers and time - both of which you do not have in single session painting.

Paint the lighter values first! What a concept! To me, this was a huge epiphany. Why not paint the middle tones of the flowers first and then paint the darker background behind them? It works like a charm, really. Also, that push and pull of painting subject, then background, then subject, then background again gives you a huge variety of edges that could never be painted "on purpose."

In this detail of "A Little Dance," I blocked in the middle tones of each flower over top of a light value, colorful wash. After the initial block in, I painted the deep shadows around the subjects and then added details to the flowers.

Whenever I have had the problem of the paint not sticking, it is either because I have used too much medium in the beginning and things are slimy, or because I am not using ENOUGH paint toward the end. I literally have to load my brush or knife with enough paint that I could actually fling the handle and a huge glob would land on the wall. Then, I take that severely loaded tool and carefully, but playfully, "hit" it onto the canvas. One time is all you get. If you go messing with your highlight "blob," you'll almost always ruin it. I had to play with paint like this for a long time before I learned how to appreciate it in my own art and to leave it alone long enough for me to actually decide if I liked it. I never like things right when I do them. I have to live with them a while to appreciate them. Weird, I know.

In "Potato Leek Soup Sketch," I gave myself 30 minutes to paint a practice sketch before attempting the larger version of this painting. As it turns out, I think I like the sketch better than the final painting due to it's loosely painted objects and especially, the "highlight blobs."

Occasionally, I mess around with a dry painting and hit some highlights over top of some good texture created in the first session. It works like a charm and I love the effect, so this is definitely an option. In my experience, I'm a better painter when my time is limited. I tend to ruin things I continue to revisit, so I tread lightly.

In this grass detail from "Backyard Chickens," the top image has some lime green gently dry brushed over top of the richly textured surface that had dried from the first session (bottom image). Achieving this effect was worth the wait as the ground came together in a more harmonious way and delivered a lot of great eye candy when viewing the painting up close in person.

Paint well and have a wonderful week!
M

From Garden Rows to Oil Primed Linen

noreply@blogger.com (Mara Schasteen) — Tue, 06 Sep 2011 23:11:00 +0000

"From Garden Rows"

I found a little time to paint today!

It's been a while since I posted process photos, so please enjoy them!

A straight line sketch (my favorite way to start)

Middle tone block in of the back drop to help with edge variety

Immediate establishment of light and shadow helps me paint with confidence.

Block-in of all subject matter. Now when I squint down and look at my set up and my canvas, I can see how accurate my drawing, edges and values are (and what work I have to do to make it sing).

Squint and compare: such a priceless tool for the direct painter.

Time to work on detail! Here I work on the large tomato and begin work on the beets and cabbage.

More detail work on the cabbage (lots of bug holes since it came from my garden).

The set up and the painting shortly before the signature.

"From Garden Rows"
8" x 13.5" ~ Oil on Belgian Linen

I am so proud to tell you that all the items in this still life came from our mini farming efforts. It was inspiring to harvest them from the garden this morning and paint them this afternoon. Tonight, I think I'll continue the theme and eat them for dinner!

Have a great week!
Mara

Tweaking

noreply@blogger.com (Mara Schasteen) — Tue, 06 Sep 2011 04:43:00 +0000

There are two things about being a painter that I loathe: washing my brushes and re-working a painting I thought I had finished. From time to time, I must do both.

The last time I had a chance to sit down and work, I painted Backyard Chickens. That was over a month ago! Since then, my mom duties ruled over all artistic endeavors and the most artsy thing I've done is stare at this painting as it dried propped up on my piano. For me, this was torture. Each day that went by, I saw more and more little places that could be tweaked and finally - enough was enough. I put it back on the easel and went back to work.

Did I mention that I just despise re-working a "finished" painting? Well, I do. I have a short attention span. I get bored easily. I don't like piddling around. I use these reasons to excuse myself from working back into a dry painting. Today, as with all other blog posts I write, I write to remind myself of what I've learned. And today I've learned that re-working a painting can be...(yes, I will admit it)...productive, if not fun.

Originally, I really loved the painting. Posted it immediately to Facebook. Dreamed about it. Kissed it goodnight. But as the days grew into weeks, I began to obsess about areas of the painting that could be better.

Here is the painting as it stood on the easel (or the piano) after the first session:

Here is the painting after a brief "tweaking" session:

"Backyard Chickens"
12" x 20" ~ Oil on Belgian Linen

I thought it would be interesting to note the changes I made and why...

- I softened some of the choppy color notes in the upper left hand corner to help that complex area recede into the background more and push the little red hen forward.

- I brightened up the leghorn flapping her wings in the distance by giving her comb one more drop of bright red and a pale blue highlight on her back.

- I lightened the darkest values in the tree in the upper right corner and warmed the shadows to help it seem further away and more sun soaked.

- I dry brushed a lot of lime green into the grass which seemed to pull the ground together and gave it more illusion of depth. Also, I hinted at the shadow in the grass that our little red hen was certainly casting in the morning sunlight.

- I warmed up the two white chickens in the foreground just a little.

- I minimized that intrusive highlight on the breast of our curious red hen in front.

- Lastly - and most importantly - I completely repainted the white hen on the far right. THIS was the area of the painting that was really driving me crazy! The first version seemed to lack magic. Though she was purposefully placed on the edge of the composition, I still didn't like this chicken looking like an afterthought. She needed solidity and she needed some personality!

"Backyard Chickens" before and after detail

I am so happy I did it! This is yet another example in my art-life of how my perceived weaknesses can really be my strengths. In this case, my "weakness" was my lack of time to devote to painting. This lack of time became my strength as it allowed me to slow down a little and do some analysis of a painting which had the potential to be better. Had I just bulldozed right on to the next project (and the next and the next), I'd have forgotten all about les poulets and framed them up as they were.

Do the models approve?

I think they do.

The Great Outdoors - Lesson 2

noreply@blogger.com (Mara Schasteen) — Wed, 24 Aug 2011 16:35:00 +0000

It's been a while since I wrote TGO, Lesson 1. Obviously, I am out painting in the summer sun and not inside writing down what I've learned. OK, OK...That's not true. Truth is, I'm not painting much at all this summer because I'm too busy being a mom. I have been doing a fair amount of gardening along with wild berry picking and canning. My summer yield has been lots and lots of fresh, homegrown produce, but very few plein air paintings. Poo.

I have been out painting a few times and I have been reading a wonderful book by John F. Carlson entitled, Carlson's Guide to Landscape Painting. It was recommended to me by the great artist Phil Starke, and then gifted to me by my dear friend and fellow artist, Paulette Kucera.

The Four Planes

This little article is a summary of Carlson's thoughts on the four planes in an ordinary landscape. He stresses that this is not a formula, nor a rule, but a guideline for practical application under usual outdoor painting circumstances. I have discovered that the knowledge of this little idea of the four planes has helped me tremendously! So here I share with you...

1) The sky plane: the lightest plane in value, even lighter in value on an overcast day than on a clear day

2) The flat plane: the ground, second lightest in value, a mid value range of color generally more yellow than the upright planes

3) The upright plane: trees and bushes receiving the least amount of light and representing the darkest values

4) The slanted plane: hills and mountains lighter than the upright planes and cooler in color temperature than the flat planes

Carlson emphasizes that each plane should be quickly blocked in at the beginning of a plein air painting and once the masses have been painted correctly, then they should be broken up with color variation and details that do not disrupt the basic values of each shape.

Big Horns Sketch ~ 6" x 8" ~ Oil

In this plein air painting, I think I broke up the upright plane (the tree) with too many light values. To the novice outdoor painter (me), highlights on leaves tend to read more intense at first glance than they really are. This tree would appear more accurate if I had painted none of the highlights and simply left the darker green massed in with no detail. Also, the little sliver of foreground, the flat plane, should have been painted with more intense color and a slightly darker value than the middle section of the painting which also represents a flat plane. These tweaks would have delivered more depth to this sketch. Other than that, I like it.

Big Horns Sketch ~ 6" x 4" ~ Oil

I really liked this tiny painting. It was fun to do. I tried to paint each plane with one or two big brush strokes just for fun. I restrained my tendency to break up each plane with too many details. One thing that would have made this painting have more accurate depth is to have painted the upright planes (the trees and bushes) a more intense green and darker in value than the distant mountains.

Big Horns Sketch ~ 10" x 10" ~ Oil

This painting was a real challenge (sorry for the blurry photo). Each plane of the rolling hills presented a slight color and value shift. The sliver of foreground at the bottom was a field of mint colored grasses and although I painted it with accuracy, I should have used my brains and pushed it lighter in value and more yellow in color. That would have helped the depth of field read better. Also, again I broke up the mass of the tree with too many lighter values, therefore disrupting the upright plane a little. Overall, I was pleased with my attempt and I think I might repaint this one larger this winter when I am stuck inside.

Of note, not all outdoor compositions include all four planes. In fact, removing one or two planes can be very effective. In my painting, Piney Creek Dreaming, only the flat and upright planes are depicted. Also, this painting displays a variation in the generality of the upright planes being darkest in value. Those beautiful quaking aspens really glow against the muted greens surrounding them.

"Piney Creek Dreaming"
20" x 24" ~ Oil on canvas

In the next TGO article, I will write about painting en plein air using just three colors plus white. This tip was taught to me by Phil Starke and it has been a lifesaver in the field. Stay tuned!

The 16th Annual Richard Schmid Fine Art Auction

noreply@blogger.com (Mara Schasteen) — Mon, 08 Aug 2011 16:08:00 +0000

I'm excited! The 16th Annual Richard Schmid Fine Art Auction is just around the corner, coming up on September 4, 2011 in Rist Canyon, west of Fort Collins, Colorado on County Road 52E. The Preview opens at 10:00 a.m. on Sunday, September 4, 2011, and the Live Auction starts at 1:00 p.m.. The Rist Canyon Mountain Festival, hosted by the Rist Canyon Volunteer Fire Department (RCVFD), runs from 10:00 to 4:00. For more details on how to attend, visit the auction website.

Among my favorite paintings up for auction this year are...

"Gathering Storm (Moraine Park)"
16" x 20"
Steven Hileman
$2300

"November Morning"
7" x 9"
Frank Serrano

"Autumn Evening"
4" x 7"
Michael Godfrey

"Squash and Tea Cup"
20" x 16"
Nancy Guzik
$5500

"Calla Lilies"
12" x 20"
Mara Schasteen
$2200


"Adele in Our Garden" 9" x 12" Richard Schmid Opening Bid: $15,000

Best wishes to the committee and to the artists! See you all soon!
-M

The Allure of Chickens

noreply@blogger.com (Mara Schasteen) — Tue, 02 Aug 2011 16:05:00 +0000

Over dinner one evening last week, my husband and I were marveling at how the paintings I have created in my career have always received the most attention if they contained chickens.

"Here, Chick Chick Chick!"
6"x6" ~ Mara Schasteen

Why is that? We laughed.

The first two chicken paintings I made sold within 5 minutes of bringing them into the gallery. Once, a friend named Tim wrote on my Facebook wall, "An artist cannot always pick what they are famous for...there was whats-his-name and the haystacks, and Mara and the chickens." The last chicken painting I made sold over the internet within about 12 hours of it's last brush stroke.

"Friend Chickens"
6"x6" ~ Mara Schasteen

Chickens are hot!

It got us philosophizing about the matter. What is the allure of chickens? We own six laying hens. Don't misunderstand, we love our chickens, but they are dumb, dirty animals who poop constantly and shred your flowerbeds. My husband and I are of that strange variety who wish we were farmers, but live in town. So far, so good on backyard chickens, but I drew the line when my husband suggested we get a goat. Anyway, owning chickens is definitely not a glamorous venture. So, again I ask, what is the allure of chickens?

I googled "chickens in art..."

"Garden Path with Chickens"
Gustav Klimt

"Feeding the Chicken"
Hans Adolf Hornemann

"Poultry and Other Birds in the Garden of a Mansion"
Jacob Bogdany

"Chicken"
Richard Schmid

"On Guard"
Jerolyn Dirks-Brodeur

There are countless works of art which contain chickens in some form or another (even dead, half plucked and hanging by their ankles). A large majority of those works are folk art, illustration and even clip art. Again I say, chickens are hot!

So, here is what my husband and I came up with during our evening of chicken philosophy: chickens represent things like self sufficiency, beauty, good food, tradition, family values, and silliness (they are funny, quirky little things who always have the same freaked out look on their face). They are wonderful playmates for children and they are a colorful essential for any farm, large or mini. And we can't forget about the most important thing: eggs!

Collecting eggs. Oops! One broke.

Bringing in the eggs never gets boring

Collecting eggs each morning has brought our family so much joy. Each egg is beautiful...pale brown, dark brown with speckles, pure white. Some chickens lay blue or green eggs. An egg is a marvel of nature, so perfect in it's design and so incredible in the kitchen. Unless you are a strict vegan, the egg could possibly be the most essential thing in your fridge.

To raise chickens, for meat or for eggs, means getting your hands dirty. Just like gardening, much care and attention goes into the efforts of every harvest. The result is better tasting, healthier food and a special sense of pride and satisfaction. Raising chickens helps teach young children how to work hard and reap the rewards of their efforts.

"Backyard Chickens"
12"x20" ~ Mara Schasteen

We theorize that essentially, chickens represent something we all want: a life of simplicity, back to the basics. We think that deep down inside, even the slickest of city folk could entertain the idea of living and working a self sufficient existence on a farm. For most of us Americans, that notion is totally impractical, but nevertheless, there is a certain romance involved in that sort of homemade life. I think we can bring some of it inside our homes by celebrating chickens in art.

What do you think?

"Chickens and Sunlight"
6"x12" ~ Mara Schasteen

Recognizing and Celebrating Beauty

noreply@blogger.com (Mara Schasteen) — Mon, 18 Jul 2011 15:38:00 +0000

Allow me to introduce Laura...

Laura Anderson Kurk
Photo by J D Waterhouse Photography

Aside from being strikingly beautiful on the outside, Laura possesses a special gift of incredible beauty in her soul. I am enormously blessed to know her. She calls me a friend. Sometimes, I feel silly that she even likes me, but I'm always honored to carry her presence around with me wherever I go.

In addition to her day job as a Christian wife and mother, Laura is a writer. She recently had a young adult novel published entitled, Glass Girl, of which I highly recommend reading. I'm thrilled that a sequel soon will follow. Laura writes from the heart. Meet her once and you'll know instantly you're spending time with a genuinely kind person who really, really wants to know the answers to the many questions she asks about you. Laura makes you feel like you are the most interesting person on earth. Her sincere conversation helps others realize they are important and worth every second of her time. How often have you met someone like that?

She is beauty on the inside, radiating and permeating every cell on the outside. She is a living example of God's presence on earth.

For some reason, Laura wanted to write a little diddy about me and my work as an artist. I thought it would make a lovely blog post, and she gave me permission to post it here. I hope you enjoy our collaborated thoughts on the significance of recognizing and celebrating beauty...

Pretty Is as Pretty Does

by Laura Anderson Kurk

One of the things that brings me the greatest joy is that I am able to call Mara Schasteen my friend. She’s an up and coming artist based in Sheridan, Wyoming who trained at the knees of Mike Wimmer at Oklahoma Christian. When we found each other in lower Texas, we were young mothers buried under diapers and three squares a day. But even then, with all the frenetic child-rearing happening, we took hold of each other and clung, stubbornly. Barnacles, we were. My memories of the young mom years swim around in my head, usually murky, but sometimes uncannily clear.

Like the time Mara and I sat in my driveway with our fussy children, reaching for anything that would improve the mood, and suddenly Mara jumped up and began to perform a Broadway-worthy number, in a perfect Carol Channing voice, jazz hands and all. And it was more for me than for the babies, who wouldn’t get the irony. Don’t get me wrong, the baby days were delicious and juicy for us. We both loved every minute, even the bad ones, but you know how it is. It’s hard and frustrating and incredibly tiring when you’re there. Mara and I centered each other and kept it real.

Life intervened, as life does, and there were more babies, a lot of moves around the country, and some significant heartache. Before we knew it, we’d been out of touch for too long. Out of touch, but not out of mind. When I began writing Glass Girl I set it in a small town in Wyoming, envisioning Mara tucked into her small town in Wyoming. I made my main character’s mother an artist. I named a character Annie (maybe remembering Mara’s second-born fondly). I tried to capture the laid-back, independent spirit of Mara, the consummate Wyoming-bred girl.

Eventually Mara and I reconnected and it is, in the way only true friendship operates, just as it was. And she’s painting, successfully, and I’m writing, and we’re in touch often. I try to channel her so often when I write about recognizing and celebrating beauty. It is what an artist does, after all. And she’s a master. Artists are given an extra measure of whatever it is that recognizes God’s creation and reflects it back. They have different eyes. And, at least for Mara, art is absolute ministry.

I asked Mara several questions recently and her answers struck me as a powerful reminder that we are all His priests and our efforts to understand and interpret this world in relation to the next are worthy. Anything that draws our attention to what really matters—the eternal things—shimmers with holiness.

What is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?

I’m not sure you could have presented me with a more difficult question! I’m thinking of the scenery all around me in Wyoming, my favorite flowers, beautiful works of art. But what I go back to again and again are the sleeping faces of my children when they were newborns. Now that is something I could truly stare at all day long – and I did so many times!

On the flipside, what’s the ugliest thing you’ve ever seen?

Images of the Holocaust come to mind. Those images of death, abuse and starvation are a very tangible symbol of what evil looks like.

And, it’s interesting to me that I see people (in some form) as both the most beautiful and the ugliest things I have ever seen.

You’ve told me on many occasions that the only thing you want to capture in people is kindness. Tell me about that.

What else matters if someone isn’t kind? Not even a strong faith in God matters much to others if that person is unkind. Because we were created by a loving being, surely there is kindness to be found in all of us. It is something easy to understand and should be celebrated whenever possible. A portrait which fails to draw out even a glimmer of kindness in the sitter may as well never be painted, as it would serve no important (or heavenly) purpose.

What place does beauty have in our understanding of God?

I am glad you asked this question because the answer is the cornerstone of my life’s work as an artist. As I have taken time to focus on my vision for this gift of art I have been given, I have meditated on Philippians 4:8-9 (MSG).

Summing it all up, friends, I'd say you'll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious—the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse. Put into practice what you learned from me, what you heard and saw and realized. Do that, and God, who makes everything work together, will work you into his most excellent harmonies.

Beauty matters. To celebrate truth and beauty – the best, not the worst – has been my purpose. We find God when we experience love. As with love, we find God in beauty. To focus on the beautiful in all its variations leads us to find Him again and again, from many different directions, giving more fullness to our understanding of His remarkable personality.

What does it feel like when you see something you have to paint?

Frustrating! I say that with an implied smile on my face. If I could actually drop everything and paint when I see something I just have to paint, I might feel excitement or elation. But with four young children to care for every day, I don’t usually have the luxury of painting when the inspiration hits me. I have to tuck those little memories and observations in my pocket and keep them fresh and spontaneous for when I have time alone to work. I do a lot of “looking” in the meantime. I have treasures of things stored up in my mind for later.

How is art a ministry?

I am just now figuring this out for myself. Years ago, when I knew I wanted to be an artist, I would ask myself, “How do I serve the Lord as an artist?” My limited human creativity always provided answers like: illustrate Bible stories or praise God in the titles of your paintings. And those weren’t bad ideas, but they didn’t thrill me, either.

Somewhere along the way, God opened up some doors for me that I would have never imagined were effective ways to serve Him. One of the most important opportunities I have has been to share my artistic processes with other artists all over the world through the Internet. Since my work and my belief in God are intertwined so tightly, I can’t help but talk about my faith as it relates to my work as an artist. So here I am, talking Christ to Muslims, Hindus and atheists. I have never been met with opposition, rather, those who disagree do so quietly and those who are interested want to know more. I am so blessed to have been given a way to make art my ministry.

If you had a chance to paint anyone or anything in the whole world, who or what would it be?

Oh, to have Jesus come sit for me in my studio for a portrait! Imagine the kindness that would overwhelm me. I’m sure I would never be able to actually paint a single stroke in that scenario, but it would be a great excuse to get to spend time with Him in the flesh.

Name three things you cherish.

1) Quiet time

2) A brand new piece of oil primed Belgian Linen

3) The Holy Spirit’s presence on earth

Thank you, Mara, for using what God gave you to show us the beauty in this world. I’m blessed to see what you see!

Laura Anderson Kurk is the author of the young adult novel Glass Girl and its upcoming sequel, Perfect Glass. She lives in College Station, Texas with her husband, Alan, and their children, Amelia and Anderson. Visit her at www.laurakurk.com or her Glass Girl Facebook page!

"Pansies" detail

The Great Outdoors - Lesson 1

noreply@blogger.com (Mara Schasteen) — Tue, 05 Jul 2011 00:10:00 +0000

I have set aside the summer of 2011 as my "Plein Air Summer." It's time. I've spent the majority of the last two years painting inside the studio; learning about my paint and my brushes and finding myself as an artistic communicator. I've never felt more ready to begin painting outdoors.

Here I am using an automotive sunshade for shade. It works well!

This summer won't be my first experience painting outdoors, but I can count on one hand how many times I have done it before this year. I am really excited about what I have learned so far this summer. I've decided to write about my experiences in a summer series of blog posts.

Today's lesson is pretty simple. It has taken me one entire month of working outside to really know this - to really get it. Are you ready?

Painting en plein air is about quick impressions, simplicity and quantity.

This probably sounds pretty boring to someone like me who wants a masterpiece every time I get the chance to paint. I've heard ideas like this a lot before and kindly brushed them aside thinking I would be an exception to this "rule." Well, whatever! I'm no exception and now that I really get it, I feel so much more productive and hopeful that I will accomplish my mission: to rock at plein air painting this year.

Ladies and gentlemen, it's true. Painting outdoors is simply a different kind of painting. It is different in every single way and should be approached with unique purpose. As the summer goes on, I will be thrilled to write in my blog about some of the down and dirty, nitty gritty nuts and bolts of painting outdoors. I've already got some killer tips! Until then, if you are interested in this type of painting, I hope you'll chew on these ideas of plein air work being about impressions, simplicity and quantity (yes, quantity, as in stacks and stacks of paintings...6 paintings in a day kind of quantity).

Me hugging the life out of Phil Starke

On a side note, last week, I had the wonderful opportunity to meet and take a plein air workshop from the amazing Phil Starke; gentleman and fantastic plein air oil painter living in Tuscon. Not only was Phil an amazing painter, but he was an outstanding teacher. He condensed years of education and experience into a three day workshop that likely changed my life as an artist. THANK YOU, PHIL! And not only that, but he juried and judged our 1st annual Sheridan Artist's Guild Juried Show and chose my painting, Leaving, as Best of Show! I believe we had 69 pieces of art from 28 artists representing 5 states. I felt pretty honored to received that award and I hugged the life out of Phil when my name was announced. What fun. Thanks again, Phil! We loved you!

Happy plein air painting!

Mara

Painting from inside the car

Quantity. Pump 'em out.

A quick painting just before a storm hit

Quantity: Pump 'em out

Quantity!!!!!!!

Painting during my workshop with Phil Starke. Again - quantity!

Alice Fuller, Mara Schasteen and Friends

noreply@blogger.com (Mara Schasteen) — Tue, 14 Jun 2011 15:07:00 +0000

For those of you who may be able to attend...

Davis Gallery is proud to present the work of Alice Fuller and Mara Schasteen, as well as a few of their friends. Please join us for a reception on June 23rd, from 5:30 to 7:30 pm. Meet the artists and see some of their newest masterpieces.

Our friends include artists Heather Plank, Paulette Kucera, Al Carlson and Mark Morel.

Contact: Call Davis Gallery for more information: 307.673.2878

Time: Thursday, June 23 · 5:30pm - 7:30pm

Location: Davis Gallery, 117 N Main Street, Sheridan, Wyoming

Hope to see you there!!!!!
M

UPDATE:

Some images from our very successful show:

Myself and the very talented, Alice Fuller

Had to throw in a picture of Alice's sweet glasses

My latest work


This is Larry Davis, framing master extraordinaire

60+ pieces for this show!

There's me on the right talking with two of my favorite collectors, Mr and Mrs. Dr. Batty

Linda Davis, of Davis Gallery, Alice Fuller, Wyoming Representive John Patton and another wonderful collector, Linda Faust

Keepin' it Simple

noreply@blogger.com (Mara Schasteen) — Thu, 09 Jun 2011 01:26:00 +0000

This was no spectacular painting day for me, but I did really like this photo I took today:

I'm glad I snapped this photo because later when I uploaded the image to my computer and took a look at it, I was again reminded how simplicity is really the key to success. All I needed today was an old gray curtain and one white gladiolus shoot. It was too cold and wet to go out plein air painting as I had planned, so this was going to have to be enough. And, it was.

I encourage you - especially if you are struggling to grow as I am - to keep it really, really simple for a while. If you are painting still life, forget the table or the back wall today. If you are painting landscapes, use the biggest, coarsest brush you own and just go for color. Leave out details. If you are painting figures, get rid of all but the skin. You get the idea. We don't need to cram more into our paintings than is necessary to communicate a single idea. Once we get great at simplicity, perhaps complexity won't seem so darned ... complex.

"Gladiolus"
12" x 24" ~ Oil on panel

Have a great week!
M

How to Paint Like Mozart

noreply@blogger.com (Mara Schasteen) — Mon, 30 May 2011 02:14:00 +0000

This is kind of a long blog post, but if you are able to get through it, I think it will be worth it.

If you can, please right click on the link to the mp3 of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's Symphony #25 in G Minor to open it in a new tab and read the remainder of this post while listening to the music of Mr. Mozart.

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
1756 - 1791

I began playing the violin at age 9. From that age until today, music has always been an extremely important part of my life. Recently, as I listened to my eldest son's orchestra performing Mozart's Symphony #25 in G Minor, I began to understand things about music in terms of art. Things that I had learned as a violinist over the years suddenly, and with great clarity, began to parallel all that I have recently learned about painting. I'm sure listening to my son's teacher (who was also my most beloved teacher of all time) speak to us about Mozart's genius was the catalyst for my very personal experience that evening. Please allow me to share...

In a typical symphonic performance, there are a huge variety of string, wind and percussion instruments each with their own part to play. If one were to observe a rehearsal when the conductor is working on "sectionals," you may not recognize a popular piece of music without the full orchestra playing together in unison. It would be like listening to a group discussion, but only one of many voices being audible to you. The conversation would feel rather empty and lacking, even pointless. Similarly, if you were to observe a rehearsal during a time at which each musician were independently working on their own section, at their own pace, you would likely feel very confused and make an excuse to get the heck out of there. It is only when the conductor picks up his stick on a silent stage, raises his arms and hits that first downbeat that every effort of the composer, the musicians, the teachers and the conductor comes together in a beautiful, harmonious experience for all with ears to hear it.

Painting is just like this.

I am the composer, my brush is the conductor and my paints are the musicians. Painting is our performance.

As a composer, the beautiful song I compose must be developed with a clear intention of the sound of the completed work. If I write each section without an understanding of the way that section works with all the others, my song will sound anything but harmonious. As a painter, I must also develop my painting in terms of the "big picture," rather than focusing only on a section at a time until I feel good about it. In fact, I may be most successful if I under-develop each section of a painting until the harmony of the big picture begins to reveal itself.

What does this mean and how does it apply to Mozart?

Mozart wrote Symphony #25 in G Minor when he was just 17. Obviously, a genius beyond all comparison, Mozart had the incredible ability to be 100% precise in his musical statements. Whether he was writing down the music of other composers perfectly after only hearing them performed a single time, or copying down an entire symphony of his own composing from memory due to a misplaced manuscript, Mozart could do so with perfection: every note, every rest, every notation. Mozart composed entire symphonies in his head.

Mozart's secret? A crystal clear "big picture."

When Mozart composed, he probably wrote section by section with precision, not intending to go back and fuss over it again. This is because he was a genius and his mind allowed him to break down and hear the individual sounds of many instruments playing at the same time. If Mozart had been an artist, he may have worked one area at a time, glazing and shaping it until it were perfect, then moving on. After all, in his day, that was the way painters painted. But, Mozart was kind of a rebel in more ways than one. I think if Mozart had been a painter, he would have built a painting as a whole like a progressive Jpeg loads on your monitor: one crazy, yet precise layer at a time until just the right level of finish had been obtained; an incredible painting emerging from a nearly haphazard process. Mozart, of all people, could have done this because he always knew what the big picture looked like and every single choice he made was precisely perfect in achieving that final result.

Symphony #25 is all about precision. No matter which instrument you play, it is a challenging piece. Because it is such a precise piece to play, it is tempting, especially for a student, to focus only on your own music and forget that your instrument is actually communicating with the others. If you sit in the audience, however, and listen to the fullness of the sounds of the entire orchestra, you begin to understand how your part should blend into that fullness of sound and even how various phrases sound vastly different to you in terms of the big picture, rather than the individual sound of your instrument played alone. You eventually learn how marry the precision of your own sound with the role it plays in the complete sound of the "big picture."

To write about this same idea in terms of painting, a good representational painter knows how to marry the precision of each stroke of each shape with the role it plays not only in the illusion of each individual object, but with the fullness of the big picture. This means that a good painter understands that their visual symphony is not a collection of solos, but a unified blending of elements which together (and only together) convey the big picture.

Let's say I paint a perfectly photo realistic strawberry:

If my painting were simply a painting of a single strawberry, it would be like a violin solo with no accompaniment. The purpose in painting a single strawberry in this manner is to celebrate it's individual beauty - it's texture and shape and rich color. This type of a painting tells a story about the strawberry and the strawberry alone. It is a strawberry solo, if you will.

So let's say I paint this strawberry:

What does this strawberry do that perhaps, the strawberry photo above does not do? It makes me want to know more about the story of this strawberry. I hear the music of the strawberry here, but now I'm interested in what else may be available to me. Obviously, the strawberry isn't the whole story. How do I know that? Because the strawberry is rendered in such a way that it makes me feel something else may be involved in this story. This strawberry looks more like one section of a full symphony orchestra rather than a solo.

So, if I am painting a still life with many objects and each object is rendered as an individual solo, what do I get? The same thing I would get if I attended an orchestra rehearsal with no instruction: lots of musicians busily focused on themselves and their music alone. Chaos.

Mozart would have understood this. Mozart would have known to what level of finish each section of his painting needed to be rendered to be the most effective at achieving harmony of the whole. Because of this, he would have been able to start slapping paint around rather voraciously knowing how he would later mellow and balance that dynamic with tighter and more controlled strokes of paint. He would have understood how to be the most effective with the least amount of effort. He would have understood when to plainly state and when to indicate. He would have communicated his subject with the broadest range of possible methods and when it came time to repeat an object, such as multiple strawberries, no two berries would be rendered exactly alike...

Mozart would have undoubtedly also understood the order in which he must be precise:

1) Drawing - the most basic essential element of visual communication

2) Edges - the element of painting that delivers an experience to the human eye most like a real life experience

3) Value - as in life, get your values right and the rest will fall into place

4) Color - the individual notes that create the harmony of the whole

Surely, Mozart would have understood "loose" brushwork versus "tight," when to use which type of stroke and with what tool it should be placed. Mozart knew dynamics and used them very effectively. Mozart also knew how to throw in wonderful surprises.

boldness

complexity

sharpness and clarity

soft subtlety

economy

Mozart's work always leaves you with this feeling of satisfaction, yet still wanting more. In his 35 years of life, he made one of the greatest impacts on music of any composer, any where. It is because of his courage and his intensity that he achieved such insurmountable greatness and will never be forgotten. Remember that while he was a disciplined and educated man, he was also kind of a crazy spazz who broke the rules when he felt like it. He found an incredible blending of those two very distinct and seemingly incompatible parts of himself.

"I pay no attention whatever to anybody's praise or blame. I simply follow my own feelings." - Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

It is only with courage such as this that I ever found a way to "let go" and just paint. Paint, paint, paint. Paint with understanding and clarity. Paint with emotion. Paint with everything I had inside me, every single time. And yes, sometimes I listen to Mozart while doing so. I hope that by taking a close look at some of the sections of one of my latest little still life works, you can understand my explanation of how painting like Mozart can really help you develop a painting rich with subtle emotion, purpose, dynamics and life. When you have the big picture in mind, each element sings the same song, and no one takes over singing solo. It's all about the end result, the big picture. When this kind of harmony is achieved, it is simply a delight to the eye to find that it has been achieved so "effortlessly," though we know that it only appears effortless. As with Mozart's music, that perfect marriage of discipline and recklessness makes for beautiful, wonderful and amazing expressions.


"Strawberries" 9" x 12" ~ Oil on panel

My New Rosemary & Co. Brushes and Some Peaches

noreply@blogger.com (Mara Schasteen) — Fri, 20 May 2011 18:29:00 +0000

I was seeing a lot of positive comments on Facebook from artists who were using the newly developed Mongoose brushes from Rosemary & Co. Tony Pro, Jeremy Lipking and Morgan Weistling worked with Rosemary to develop these amazing tools to meet the demands of their specific oil techniques. Later, I found these brushes are used (and loved!) by Richard Schmid, Nancy Guzik and Rose Franzten, to name a few. I decided it was high time I get out my pounds to dollars conversion table and try them out!

Rosemary offers the long handled filberts and flats, which is what I purchased. There are also regular length filberts and flats, but I had to go all out and get the exact brushes being raved about. These brushes replace Langnickel brushes that I have used for the last few years. Here are some comparisons:

The brush with the black handle is a Rosemary. Notice how from tip to tip, we gain almost an inch and a half in length. It is a very critical inch.

The red handled brush is a Langnickel series 5525, size 10 (this is a "bright," which I usually have to order, because they are always out of stock of the "longs," which are wimpy because they don't seem to have enough bristle density in ratio to their length). Notice the difference in length of the bristles; also a very critical difference.

I can't express how the control increases significantly when using a Rosemary as opposed to a Langnickel. The Rosemary holds more than twice as much paint and feels a lot smoother, depositing paint onto the surface more efficiently. In my last 3 painting sessions using the Rosemary's, not one brush hair has come out onto my painting! With the Langnickels, it wouldn't be strange to have 25 or 30 hairs fall out into my paint and onto my painting in a given day. I was pulling my own hair out trying to deal with it.

My purpose in using this particular kind of brush is fluidity and control. I like to combine the various textures that this softer brush can provide with the coarser textures of the Robert Simmons Signet bristle brushes (fyi - when I recently watched Clyde Aspevig paint a demo, I noticed he was using the Robert Simmons Signets).

The painting process documented below is my first completed work using the new brushes. I have been wanting to paint peaches for months, now! It took until last week that we finally had some arrive at the local grocery store here in Wyoming. I wanted to capture their fuzziness and have another excuse to paint my blooming hydrangea before it dries. Of course, I had to avoid the expected and come up with something different with these subjects. I started picking apart the hydrangea globe and found that the individual flowers looked like butterflies. I set them on top of the peaches as if they were butterflies landing in a nice, soft, sweet spot.

At this point, I have sketched the still life and brushed in some ochre + terra rose to really warm up the background that I planned to paint in a neutral tone. All this work was completed using a Robert Simmons filbert.

Here, I've added the neutrals as well as some warmer shadows over the orange color, still using the Robert Simmons filbert.

This is a detail image of the spot right in between the two peaches on the left hand side. I thought this picture shows well the thickness of paint and the painterly way I slap it on. I love texture.

Time to paint with a Rosemary! The first bright yellows are laid in with a Rosemary filbert. Aaahhh. It's like butter.

It is unbelievable how much paint the Rosemary's hold. I am used to reloading my brush after every single stroke, but I found that if I want to, I can keep using the Rosemary's for several strokes and not lose the density of my paint. This caused me to paint even faster.

I added in the cobalt blues of the hydrangea and found that I maybe liked the painting better without them So... I'll have to do another sans the flowers.

Here I begin to refine the peaches ever so subtly. I want them to look real AND to look painted. I try to achieve a perfect balance between the two ideas.

Adding a little detail in the petals

Here I paint a bit more detail in the petals as well as some indications of light falling on the neutrals.

"Butterflies"
12" x 24" ~ Oil on panel

This painting took me about two hours to complete. I was astonished at how fast I could paint with the Rosemary brushes. I had so much extra time on my hands, I painted a second one during the same session. What fun.


"Peaches" 9" x12" ~ Oil on panel

Have a blessed spring, try out a Rosemary & Co brush and eat a peach!
-M

Timed Paintings: An Amazing Way to Improve Your Skills

noreply@blogger.com (Mara Schasteen) — Sat, 14 May 2011 21:08:00 +0000

In early 2007, after I read Richard Schmid's book, Alla Prima, Everything I Know About Painting, my mind was opened to this whole new world of single session paintings. I suppose the thought of finishing a painting in a single session never actually occurred to me before. Now, I am an alla prima guru, to the point of nearly being unable to work longer than a single session on any one painting (but that is another post).

Prior to reading Schmid, I had been known to spend up to a year on a single painting. Case in point, my very first original oil painting:


"A Little Imagination" 48" x 36" ~ Oil on canvas ~ 2001

I remember spending an entire day on small things like the toy soldiers! This was my "debut" painting, and I wanted it to be memorable. I still like this painting and it hangs in my living room. I still like it, but I will never paint this way again!

The very first time I attempted a single session painting, I set a timer for one hour. To my amazement, I painted this in 59 minutes:


"Anthurium Prayer" 14" x 10" ~ Oil on canvas ~ 2008

Suddenly, my whole world had changed. It took some time before I came to appreciate loose brushwork in my own paintings. I had always admired it in the work of others, but could not seem to accept it on my own canvas. Timed paintings force you to stop before you are ready and take time out to study and learn to appreciate subtleties in your work that you would have disrupted (or "corrected") given more time to noodle with it.

It does take some self discipline to set a timer, stop when the timer goes off and then stay stopped while you observe the painting for several days. If you can force yourself to try it, you will be amazed at the growth you experience as a result.

I am writing about this because I am right back in this place as an art student with learning to paint portraits all over again. In the past, my portraits not only took weeks or months to paint, but they were - by necessity - painted from photographs and as a result, seemed kind of stiff and overworked. Still, I treasure those early portraits:


"Benaske Family" 48" x 36" ~ Oil on canvas ~ 2001

Recently, I painted a portrait demonstration in my oil class. The lesson was about how to establish a likeness in the first one to two minutes, or the first few "moves." Think of a chess game: you win it with your first few moves. You can also lose a game in your first few moves. I set a timer for 21 minutes and here is the result:


"Mark" 13" x 12" ~ oil on panel ~ 2011

The temptation with this painting was to keep working on it. Even now, I am tempted to get out the paint and tweak a few things here or there. But, here's the thing: it looks exactly like my sitter. Exactly! Why mess with it? I think it would be better to leave this one alone and paint a new one. I can almost guarantee that I would always like this one the most, anyway. There is something very fresh and spontaneous about working under a strict time limit. Most importantly, you learn to "win it in the first few moves."

I painted this timed painting of my handsome son, Taylor, in just over one hour:

"Taylor"
11" x 15" ~ oil on Belgian linen ~ 2011

Oh! How I wanted to tweak it some more!! One eye is a little crooked and it could use some more indications of his hair, etc. Luckily, I didn't have an opportunity to work in my studio again for almost a week after I painted this and I had many days to look and observe the things about this painting that I liked. The more time that went by, the less emotionally attached I was to the process of painting this piece and thus, the more I became able to enjoy it for what it was. Of course now, I love it just the way it is. It looks like my son and I have a great memory of he and myself sitting together in my studio and talking while I painted. How special!

I would encourage anyone struggling with trying to "loosen up," or learn something new to try some timed paintings. Remember, the trick is to really stick to your guns and STOP when the timer goes off. It is cheating to stop when the timer goes off and then "just do a few more things," or "just make a couple tweaks," or "just finish this one part." It is also cheating to go back into the painting the next day or the day after that, or the day after that! If you really want the full benefit of the timed painting, make yourself wait one entire week before you go back into it.

Happy Timed Painting, everyone!

-Mara

*If you commented on this post and found your comments removed, please accept my apologies. I posted this article just an hour before Blogger went down on 5.12.11 and it seems that they were able to restore the post, but not the comments. BOO!

To Crop or Not To Crop?

noreply@blogger.com (Mara Schasteen) — Sat, 14 May 2011 21:06:00 +0000

I love being a "rule breaker." I love breaking rules that are not really rules, but more like common boundaries or expected parameters. Almost nothing gives me more satisfaction than a good, bold crop which breaks the "rules". Photographers use this technique all the time for fantastically artistic effects. I'm beginning to crop more and more - to the dismay of some and to the delight of myself!

Ha.

Anyway, today I painted a peony demonstration in my oil group. The project was focused on some warm and cool layering techniques and I became so involved in teaching that process, I made a few obvious mistakes that cause the painting to be sort of boring. Here is the painting as it stood on the easel:

original composition

Reasons why this painting is uninteresting:

I centered the vase, horizontally AND vertically!
My three blooms are almost equal in size and distance
The whole composition is extremely symmetrical

Though I am uncomfortable with the painting the way it stands on the easel, there are some things about it that are totally awesome. I would like to save at least some of this painting. The question is: to crop or not to crop?

I talk about this a lot, but allow me to repeat that I paint on a piece of cut linen taped to a board. This gives me incredible freedom as I consider how I will finalize the composition by choosing the best crop. Once complete, I photograph my painting and open it in Photoshop where I crop and re-crop over and over and over until I make the perfect composition. My dear friends, Linda and Larry Davis at Davis Gallery and Framing, receive a lot of very strange requests from me and they are so wonderful to put up with all my random sizes...down to last 1/16 of every inch. They stretch and frame all my paintings and though I hear stories of cursing and spitting, they always present me with perfectly framed paintings which exceed my expectations!

So, now I am playing with some possible crops...

crop 1

crop 2

crop 3

crop 4

crop 5

Can you tell I am not a big fan of the vase? I haven't made a decision yet about how I will crop this one. I'll think on it a few days and let it simmer. Perhaps I won't crop it. I just thought the whole concept of having this kind of freedom with your paintings was worth a post all by itself.

Would love your feedback!
- M

A Little Bit About Just Being True

noreply@blogger.com (Mara Schasteen) — Mon, 09 May 2011 17:53:00 +0000


"Baby's Tears and Angel Vine" 18" x 22" ~ Oil on Belgian linen click on the image for a larger view

As I sit here on this beautiful, gray and rainy Wyoming day, I am thinking about why I am an artist. Why am I so driven to paint pictures? It's kind of a weird thing to be so passionate about, when I think about it: I look at stuff, I pick up a stick with hair glued to the end, I squirt out some minerals from the earth mixed with oil and I smoosh them onto a piece of linen attempting to make it look like what I see. I wake up in the morning and I go to bed at night thinking about this activity. I spend a large portion of my life studying everything I can get my hands on regarding this activity. There's nothing I would rather be doing than this unique activity. I'm obsessed.

This question of why leads me to further question things like what, who, where and how? There are too many questions and too many answers and it's all really too abstract to even try to write about.

Process

My recent still life session, Baby's Tears and Angel Vine, is a story that helps me answer those questions in a tangible way. It's about being true.

So the story goes, I went to a flee market style store in search of good still life items and unique Mother's Day gifts. I found some great vessels in which I planned to fill with beautiful plants from our local greenhouse. Next I went to the greenhouse and picked up many plants. When I arrived home, I set out the vessels and the plants on a table in my studio and began to organize which plant might fit best with what pot. The moment was wonderful and beautiful. I had to paint it. I hardly touched the set up. I simply set up my easel and began to paint (let it be known that this whole event occurred on my one day a week with childcare that I treasure and covet passionately).

Because this rare "alone" moment was so lovely to me, I wanted the painting to be a true memory of it. As you can see, the temporary plastic pots are set inside - as well as on top of - the pots I planned to transfer them to. The cardboard Heineken box holding the pansy pots and the plastic information labels are all included.

One of the things that was so lovely about this set up was how the plants all seemed to be floating gently in and around the pots. It was so busy, but so calm. I painted it just as it was.

The next day, I photographed the painting and began to play with a crop. I paint on a sheet of linen taped to a board so that I can crop and stretch my paintings in a way that best fits each unique composition. I find great humor in paintings with dimensions such as 18.3" x 21.75."

I posted the image on Facebook and noted that I was unsure of how to crop it as well as whether or not I even liked the painting at all. I received many generous and helpful comments with ideas and excellent constructive critiques. The suggestions were greatly varied and the impressions ranged from "it doesn't work for me," to "I'd buy it in a heartbeat." So, this is actually what got me thinking about why, what, how, where and who do we paint?

Whose rules do we follow? Why?

Who are we trying to impress or please? Why?

Why do we want other people to see our work?

The list of questions is endless. I came up with an answer to all of them: truth. Truth is the one constant for me in all that I paint. I'm not talking about deep universal truths or religious truths or even political or social truths. I talking about my truths. My world. My space in the universe. I'm recording these truths in a romantic and long lasting way. I'm sharing my truth about my experience using the tools of a painter.

I can understand how this simple concept can be abused by an artist. It could be a wall which prohibits growth or the ability to hear the helpful advice of others. It could be an excuse to create crap. The idea itself could become more important to the artist than the actual execution of her truth. But, when used as a tool and a measure of the integrity of the artist, the expression of truth can be a wonderful vision statement and purpose. It answers that question: why?

So the story ends there. I let my painting simmer a few days and considered how changing it to create a stronger focal point, or making it less busy (thus more pleasing to some), or painting out some distracting elements...etc...would change the truth about why I painted it in the first place. I decided that to be true, I needed to leave it alone. So what if I breaks a few rules and doesn't "work" for everyone? So what if I have painted things that are better? None of that really matters when my purpose is to just be true. Making that decision was a great moment of freedom for me.


"Baby's Tears and Angel Vine" 18" x 22" ~ Oil on Belgian linen

Self Portrait With Smudges: Decoded

noreply@blogger.com (Mara Schasteen) — Thu, 28 Apr 2011 14:44:00 +0000

Yesterday I painted a self portrait. I have attempted this two or three times, but never painted anything I consider a success or was willing to "post" anywhere permanently. Yesterday, I took a long walk and talked to God. I shared with him my desire to paint meaningful things as well as my desire to move back into figurative work. I invited him to my studio to paint with me and here is our result:


"Self Portrait With Smudges" 12" x 18" ~ Oil on Belgian linen click on the image for a larger view

I posted this on Facebook and had a lot of fun reading through various interpretations of my rather strange self portrait. Read them here.

Below is my interpretation of some of the symbolism. There's more to it, but I'm trying to keep it short and sweet...

This is a painting of an image reflected in two separate mirrors. You can find the clue for that in a few repeated shapes: the camera straps and a bump in the right shoulder. There is a space between the mirrors full of color. This small space represents my art: a very important piece of me, but something that is now only a sliver of its potential. The art - my work - divides me and slices through my reality and my priorities.

The figure (me) has quickly looked away. I am shy, but not too shy. I am pretty, but not too pretty. I am confident, but not confident enough. The energy in my space is “full speed ahead.” I am also dually focused on two tasks at the same time. They each have my equal attention. Multi-tasking as a mother and a creative being is a constant fight for life - because both seem equally essential to it.

I took extra care in painting my right hand (remember, this is a reflected image) with simplicity and gracefulness. It is my most beautiful feature and the physical representation of the source of my gift of art.

The camera represents my desire to record the moments in my life and my feelings honestly.

Of course, the smudges remind me of the precious family that demands almost all my time and surrounds my work on both sides. What would this painting be without the hand print? What would I be without my family?

Self-portraits are supposed to tell others who you really are. This is who I am: imperfect, passionate, energetic, distracted, loving, messy, strange and divided. Most importantly, I am bathed in Light on all sides. Light is God, the Ultimate Creative Being, and the source of all my truth, goodness and inspiration.

Also, I received very exciting news this week. Please visit my Exciting Things page to find out what it was!!

Have a blessed day,
Mara

Twice Blessed

noreply@blogger.com (Mara Schasteen) — Mon, 25 Apr 2011 15:19:00 +0000

I was blessed with TWO painting opportunities last week - quite a gift for this full time mother of four. Flowers were my subject. Expressive painting was my goal. Here are the results...

"Orchid"
6" x 12" ~ Oil on panel
click on the image for a larger view

I have had this beautiful orchid for several weeks, pondering how I might paint it in a "new way." One day, I saw a Facebook post by amazing artist, Michael Klein, that included his recent painting of some hydrangea flowers. His simple, toned background inspired me to try painting my orchid in the same manner. I had a lot of fun playing with paint during this session. The white is quite thick. I also loved painting some of the background in and around the subject, helping to clarify the edges of the subject more perfectly and to leave behind visual evidence of my thought process. I really like this one.

Next, I had a couple hours and a gorgeous blooming hydrangea that was calling my name. I remembered to take process photos of this painting...

The still life set up (I omitted the random seashells as I painted)

This is a clear primed linen (YUCK). To begin, I scumbled on some Yellow Ochre, then a gray mixture, then sketched the still life with some Transparent Oxide Red.

Using a bristle brush, I squinted down and laid in the darkest values.

Using a bristle brush, I squinted down and laid in the lightest values.

Next, I worked in some middle tones into the background.

At this stage, I had only been painting a few minutes, but the overall tone and look of the painting is totally established. Here I begin adding some Lemon Yellow centers to the petals; one stroke each, no blending.

Here I work more on the flowers, adding small shadows and key details. Notice how little the overall shapes change from the initial brushwork. This is because I was only painting what I could see when I squinted, and I was painting as accurately as I could.

A few last touches on the flowers and I was very happy with them. Time to move on.

This is the initial block in of the vanilla bottle.

This is the bottle after I spent some time refining the block in and adding just a hint of detail.

The final touches were to add some lavender color into the background and put a few small strokes of "dark" into the flowers.

The set up and the painting


"Hydrangea" 16" x 12" ~ Oil on clear primed linen click on the image for a larger view

Hope you have a wonderful week! God bless!
Mara

Harmony Now!

noreply@blogger.com (Mara Schasteen) — Mon, 18 Apr 2011 15:52:00 +0000

This is a photo story. See if you can guess what happened...

aaahh!!!

hmmm...

"Emme's Artichokes"
16" x 20" ~ Oil on Belgian linen

I have a lot I'd like to write about this two day painting experience, but I am choosing to wait until another day. Today, I have too many loads of laundry and a really messy house to get in order. For hard working mothers everywhere, this is my creed: harmony now*!

Also, I updated my Exciting Things page to include some images and thoughts from my recent experience with master painter, Clyde Aspevig. Check it out!

*If you get my Senifeld reference here, you'll get a good laugh!