An Artist's Journey

Playing with mud

2012-01-24T09:16:00.000-05:00

Morning Fog, Monhegan

Original oil painting 24x18"

by Susan Roux

When Don Hatfield came to teach his workshop here a few summer's ago, he showed us how he mixes paint on a glass palette. Forget the palette knives. He took his stiff bristled brush, dipped in several colors and turned it in circular fashion in the center of his palette. With that mess which appeared like mud, he showed us how he could move the puddle from warm to cool and back again by simply adding a new color to it. As he continued to demonstrate, the mud puddle grew and grew. You can mix anything in here he told us.

Much to our surprise, he demonstrated portraiture using this puddle of mud!

Since then, I have to admit I've learned to embrace the puddle. I even have my students using the puddle. There's something interesting about mud. All those neutralized grays... Subtle in their own right, yet clearly distinctive added to the canvas. It's amazing how many different shades of neutral gray one can make.

Hatfield (that's what he likes to call himself) told us of his early studies with pastels. He learned to add color to a gray toned paper. It worked beautifully. In time, when he began to paint, he brought this knowledge to the canvas. I've never seen anyone like mud as much as he does. Where many fear creating muddy colors, he becomes the master in control when it happens. And just as with pastels, colors sit beautifully on mud.

As I painted Morning Fog, Monhegan it's all I thought about. Mud. So much mud. I was painting an entire scene with muddy colors. I found myself lost in the slight variations I could create. I was being seduced by it. I was pulling and pushing shapes. My first strokes for the flowers were a simple diagonal swish of hot pink. It was a flat area of color. As I worked in the flowers, I was making decisions about which one's came forward and which ones would recede. And when they did recede, which flowers would be furthest back.

I watched my canvas evolve as I played with mud on my flowers. I felt in complete control. If I wanted a flower to push further back, I had the ability to do it in a instant. Frankly I'm surprised I finished this painting. I was having so much fun being the master of my flowers, it's a wonder I finally stopped.

It's easy to paint drama with strong sun/shadow patterns. It's also easy to create drama with dark and light values as seen in my previous painting. What I was after here was to see if I could create some drama without any of those things. No sunshine, no high contrast areas, just mud and a bit of pure color.

Do you ever try to challenge yourself with something new? If so, what? Do you enjoy getting out of your comfort zone? I do. It can be lots of fun.

Note to Don: My deepest condolences for the loss of your dear sweet wife, Janey.

Art direction?

2012-01-04T08:43:00.001-05:00

Floral Emotion

Original Oil Painting 12x30" gallery wrap canvas

by Susan Roux

Where is your art going this year? Will it be taking a different direction? Will you try new techniques or work on perfecting your current ones?

With all the talk of New Year's resolutions and dreams for the year, I have trouble not focusing on my art when answering. January of last year marked the birth of my girls at the beach with simplified backgrounds. It seems as though I've been working on them much longer. When I began, I wanted to play with pale shadows that still read like shadow. I've tried to hold that as part of my focus, but also delving into developing fundamentals.

I'm certain you recall me using words like painstakingly. Trying to improve our painting habits is never an easy plight. We become comfortable doing certain things and it's easy to continue to repeat them. Forcing your brain to think differently, apply the paint differently and try to have a result that doesn't look like you spent too much time "thinking" in the first place can be a very painstaking act. I speak to you from experience.

Personally I'm drawn to great paintings that offer a balance of creativity, meaning that pure emotional spontaneity, with perfectly executed fundamentals. When these two dance on canvas poetically it's difficult to look away. I'm drawn to surprises. That creative use of color, unexpected in its location, yet working beautifully to unify the composition. A harmony that leaves something to the imagination and elevates the viewer to drift and dream.

As you can see I set my goals high and I still have a long way to go to achieve them.

Working on fundamentals engages the brain. Spontaneity and gut reactions go out the door. Focusing for a full year on these has helped me develop, but a fear of being unable to shut my brain down grew. What if I can't access that creative side again? What if I want to analyze every stroke all the time? I'm striving for a balance of the two. How will this be possible?

The holidays presented me with very little time to paint. I'm certain you can relate to that or at lease to the growing desire to just pick up a brush when time doesn't allow it. The feeling became so great that one day I just exploded on canvas! I didn't want to think. I didn't want to follow any rules. I just wanted to paint!

And so I did.

The painting posted is pure emotion pouring on canvas. Oh how it felt good! I look at it now and want to return to it to define some element more. Pick a cluster of flowers, maybe just one flower, and give it a bit more attention. I know it doesn't resemble my other work. That's ok. I could go back and define it, but I want to keep it as is. It'll be good to hang in the studio as a reminder that my creative side is not dead and can still be accessed. Now I can relax and continue in my development of fundamentals.

Something inside still drives me. My work feels cut out for the new year. My direction is clear. Develop the fundamentals further and begin to allow the creative side to dance with it. Somewhere between my girls at the beach and this emotional outburst lies the place I'm headed.

So I ask again. Where are you headed with regards to your art this year?

Painter's photo shoot

2011-11-29T07:03:00.001-05:00

Come Fly With Me

Original oil painting 28x22"

by Susan Roux

This summer I took my model to the ocean for a photo shoot.

Sounds simple enough, right? Well you need to remember we're in Maine, nicknamed Vacationland. People flock here from everywhere. Summertime is the busiest. Many arrive ready for a bellyful of lobster with the beach as their destination. It was a beautiful warm July day and it was no exception.

How I found a parking space on a side street adjacent to the ocean with a sand path for the rentals is still a mystery to me. It was perfect. A long stretch of sand where cottages line the streets located between two very busy/popular beaches. My model hadn't been to the ocean yet this season and she was already bubbling with joyful emotion. Laughing and giggling, her whole body was already wiggling as we parked the car. Her eager enthusiasm was uplifting. It was like taking a young child to the beach.

The salty sea has a distinct smell that arouses the spirit long before you reach the sand. Excitement was in the air. We had been trying for awhile to find an open moment for this day, but busy schedules made it difficult. Our anticipation coupled with the perfect weather had me imagining a wonderful shoot.

I came prepared.

We found a nice open area in a sparsely filled section. I laid out an old bed sheet on the sand. My bag was full. I unloaded it telling my model, these are the skirts, these are the tops, hats, scarfs etc. I had shopped for white clothes, borrowed white clothes and gathered lots of accessories. The sheet looked like a clothing store. As she looked at every piece, I explained that she could mix and match any of the pieces. Even if they didn't exactly match, they were all various shades of white and I could paint them to look like they did. I had been wanting new photos to work from and the moment had finally arrived.

She picked her favorite skirt. It was a long flowing one. I told her to go dance at the water. I love this model. She has such elegant movements, perfect for the look I was seeking. Still giggling, she bounced to the water's edge. I followed with my camera. The sun lit her up. The breeze was gentle and consistent. I couldn't have picked a better day.

People were gazing. She didn't care. Still like that child, she began to dance in the water. She was totally uninhibited by the onlookers. It wasn't long before what seemed like every man on the beach wandered by. I've never seen so many males walk the beach without a sweetheart by their side. How they slowed their gait as they circled wide around us. We laughed. She continued to dance.

I took shots from the left, shots from the right, shots from the back. The sun made different patterns as I switched sides. She made many costume changes and with each one, she became a different character. Sometimes she strutted, sometimes she flowed. She threw things up into the air. The sun danced with her every move.

We didn't take a break. Outfit after outfit we continued to work. I couldn't help but think I had the perfect job. Who else gets to go to the beach while they're working? Not many.

Every piece of clothing was soaked by the time we were done. She was exhausted. It had been quite a workout. As we stopped, nearby sunbathers came to talk. They wondered what we were doing. They had been entertained by my little beauty. People had their reading material, but not a book was opened while we were there.

As we walked off the beach, an older couple stopped us. They had decided we were taking pictures for the cover of a magazine and wanted to know which one and when it would come out. She did look very beautiful out there dancing in the sun. It's no wonder they imagined this scenario.

I returned home with nearly 1000 pictures. Certainly there are a few real good ones to work from.

Do you work from photos? Do you go on photo shoots to set up the pictures you desire? How about still life's? Do you ever set them up and take photos? It's a great way to have original material. Pick the perfect day and you could have enough material to work from for a year!

More Pirates? Seriously?

2011-11-10T09:09:00.000-05:00

This is a reprint of a post that was up briefly yesterday.

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I'm sickened again today.

As you're probably aware, I'm really opposed to copying other artists' art to sell as your own creation. This is a painting by Andre Kohn. I found it today on Marie-Monique's Blog, Art-Monie, where she showcased a lovely collection of his work.

I also found this painting today...

claiming to be an original by a well liked blogging friend of many.
Oh Celeste, I never expected this of you...

I find myself wondering about every other walking in the rain painting you ever did. I'm shocked and crushed.

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I removed it from my blog after receiving a long letter from Celeste Bergin. She confessed to copying without making reference to the original artist. She admitted to copying as a form of learning and made it seem an oversight that she didn't give credit to Andre Kohn. She claimed it was the first time she has ever done this. In her words, "I know you wrote a big article on this subject and you point out that it is never correct to paint someone else's work."

I gave her the benefit of the doubt and removed the post.

In her letter she wrote of having worked very hard to earn her reputation and this post could ruin everything for her. She made it sound like her future rested in my hands. Perhaps it's just me, but if this were the case for myself, I would have been waiting with bated breath to see the post disappear and quick to thank for its removal. It was an odd feeling as I waited for a return email. The strange feeling that I had been had.

I wondered if she was laughing, thinking how easily I had caved. But my thoughts were wrong and eventually nearly an hour later, I received her thankful letter.

She wrote that her other umbrella paintings were original. Her husband was a photographer and she uses his photos as reference. She also said, she paints over any copies she does and will be doing so with this one too. I took this to mean she never sells copied work.

I was relieved.

It's one thing to post about a pirate half way around the world, yet another to pirate out a blogging "friend". It seemed the best possible ending and I was pleased to shake it off and get on with my day.

But some things leave a very sour taste in your mouth and stomach. While busy teaching my classes, thoughts churned in my head. I didn't want to go looking for incriminating evidence. I wanted to feel good about having removed the post.

The burning question that haunted my mind was why did I remove the post? Was I doing an injustice to all the true artists out there? What about the reputation of Andre Kohn? How long and hard had he worked to earn his? Why was I favoring the reputation of the copier?

The painting by Celeste posted is titled Walking in the Rain II. I wanted to believe her. After all I've been following her blog since I began blogging nearly two years ago. I liked her. She's always up to something different. She inspires a lot of us and seems fearless to try anything.

I decided to search for her first Walking in the Rain. I wanted to believe she was innocent, but nothing was adding up. So many of her works are done on small format. Usually her large pieces are destined for galleries or exhibits. Why was this latest umbrella painting done on a 40x30" canvas? Who does that with intensions to just paint over it? The sour taste got sourer...

Here is Walking in the Rain by Celeste Bergin.

This wasn't painted from a photograph shot by her husband. This was another copy of Kohn's work. It went to gallery, art exhibits and eventually sold.

I had been fed a mouthful of lies.

I often wondered why the Portland, Oregon artist's large works differed so much from her day to day plein air things. The quality of the large pieces always astounded me. I innocently thought to myself, wow, she really pulled it all together for this one!

Truth be told, she was copying. I'm inclined to wonder how many of those gallery worthy paintings she produced were actually originals...

I know this is difficult for many to read. I too had difficulty swallowing all of this.

I'm quite certain these links will only work a short time. From experience a pirate scurries around trying to delete all they can that is incriminating, an action that only adds credit to their guilt. I later realized the reason for the hour delay in her thank you email. She was busy scurrying and deleting.

Were getting a better understanding of this whole pirating process. First a stranger in Spain where we wondered what type of person would do such a thing. Second an artist's point of view after she found out she was being copied. And now this. What type of person would do such a thing? Many of us feel we know Celeste very well. She's fearless and would try anything!

Next time I see this smiling face, I'll know what she's smiling about. Success. (That Charlie Sheen "winner" type of feeling.) The feeling derived from having worked so hard to fool us all. Yes Celeste, you put a lot of time and effort to build your reputation. How often have you been seen all over town painting, sketching? Seems a perfect cover for a pirate. The problem is what was brewing in the solitude of that basement studio of yours...

I'm sorry if this upsets many of you. Turns out I have zero tolerance for pirating. I didn't ask to be the Art-Police, as Kevin Mizner calls me, but when it falls right into my lap, I can't ignore it. Fellow blogger or stranger across the Atlantic, it doesn't matter. Pirating is always wrong.

Playing with color

2011-11-05T08:19:00.000-04:00

Caressing

Original oil painting 20x16"

by Susan Roux

Last post I mentioned color is emotion.

It isn't just a loose statement I've put out there in cyberspace. I experiment a lot with color and know it to be true. I can play for hours entertaining myself with color.

I'm not in a rush when I paint. Every canvas has turned into a learning playground. Don't misunderstand me. There are certainly times of major frustration. Major, MAJOR! But I like to take my time to watch what happens when I change things. Change things such as colors.

Emotion.

It's the greatest change that takes place as I alter the colors on a painting.

These pretend backgrounds I place my beach girls in have offered an opportunity to cut loose and scribble color. Layers and layers of color get placed there every time I'm tense from focusing too severely on my girl. It's created a yin-yang for me. High intensity on capturing my figure versus complete release on the remainder of the canvas. I like painting large. Many of my girls sit on 28x22" canvases. That leaves a lot of empty space to scribble color! Believe me, I need the release...

Color doesn't scare me. I enjoy manipulating it, changing it and frankly I just embrace it. I think it's my favorite part of painting. If I had to move to black and white, I'd probably give up painting. It's at my very core. No wonder I spend so many working hours being entertained by it.

If you're a little nervous about color, one easy principle comes to mind. Combine the primary colors (any red, blue or yellow) and the result is a grayed, neutralized pigment. Upon that neutral, any clean color will stand out. This basic knowledge frees me to play as much as I desire. If all fails, the result is a neutral tone. Any color can be added on top and stand out.

In other words, play with too many colors on canvas and they dull. Some of you call it mud. This grayed base provides a perfect surface to place pure pigment. This concept keeps me fearless with regard to color. There always exists the opportunity to work pure pigment into a neutral area.

I played with the background pigments of Caressing a lot. The mood and emotion of this painting changed as I altered the colors. In the end I emphasized those pigments that presented the emotion I preferred. The magenta's set off her sunlit back. The golden hues added warmth and sunlight to the water and the greens added a stable base anchoring the composition. The background became a mixture of secondary colors (green, purple and orange).

Something has really grabbed me while painting these figures. I began in January of this year and continue to be amazed and challenged. All the while having a fun release in playing with colors on this simplified stage, a single figure in a vague atmospheric presence. As I focus on sun and shadow patterns falling on the figure, I also have been enjoying playing with (and learning) color.

What's your secret passion in your whole creative painting journey?

Color Harmony

2011-11-01T09:57:00.000-04:00

Sunny Irises

Original oil painting 20x16"

by Susan Roux

While teaching my beginner/intermediate classes, there always comes a time when an explanation of what we're doing is necessary. With new students continually arriving, it becomes important to point out different types of painting. Most often it's the difference between arts and craft painting with fine art. Fine art is what I'm attempting to teach them. All they know is they signed up for an oil painting class...

I usually use the term Tole Painting, because most are familiar with that technique. Dip your brush in several colors at once and in one quick stroke, you have a shaded leaf or petal. I think the biggest difference with fine art is use of color. We seek color harmony. A limited palette helps. A toned canvas does too. But what if you aren't using any of those methods?

Reference to a child's coloring book is a common one. I point out how a child will paint everything in its local color. The sun is yellow, the leaves are green and the water is blue. One of the first things I need to get my students to understand is the concept of intermingling color. If you could use each color all over your painting you would achieve color harmony. The Impressionist had that mastered.

One thing that really interests me is how color can move the eye throughout the painting.

A painting catches a viewer. It sends their eye in a little exploration journey, hopefully throughout the entire canvas. The longer they linger, the more they'll see. At first the exploration may be about the elements in the painting. Eventually little things can travel the eye differently. As one catches onto a particular color, the eye will bounce around to all the spots with that color. If the eye focuses on darks, the eye travels throughout the painting seeking all the dark spots. The same is true for the light, shapes etc.

Studies have shown that the eye will travel differently for each person. As an artist I like to think we have some sort of control in directing the viewer on their initial path. Beyond that, I think it's a very individualized thing. People's experiences and reactions to certain colors or subjects will effect their visual journey in a painting. Why is it that you will linger and return to a certain painting at the museum while other's can walk by it as though unaffected? There is something about your visual exploration that really grabs you. It speaks to you. It strikes you emotionally.

Color is emotion.

Strokes can also be emotion, but color is very powerful. I wonder if we ever get to a place where we understand it fully? I'm continually amazed as I watch color interact with other colors on my canvas. Play in the paint a bit and move it around like frosting. Oh just talking about it can get my juices flowing... As colors neutralize, changes happen. It's like magic.

This painting is one I finished recently with a class. It annoyed me that the blue sky seemed isolated from the remainder of the painting. (the color appears a bit off and stark on this image) As I verbalized that, one of my students mentioned it was repeated in the irises. Somehow it wasn't enough. I found it visually disruptive. So I mixed a pale cool blue and added it to my iris leaves. Immediately I watched my color path change and saw the front foliage soften. Magic strokes. I just love that.

This is a scene from Monhegan Island. It could represent most typical New England places. Thanks for stopping by and thanks to all my wonderful students.

How do you achieve color harmony?

Jean Haines

2011-10-24T11:05:00.000-04:00

Lifted
Original oil painting 28x22"

by Susan Roux

I'm sure you remember the post I did a short while ago on modern-day pirates where Hugo Diaz Mapi was selling images copied from other artists. This post was carried by several other artists (thank you) in hopes of getting the word out. Copied art is a real problem and unfortunately it strikes many artists. Usually the pirating has been going on long before the artist becomes aware of it.

Artists are kind people as a whole. We move from our soul and we pour ourselves out for all to see. It's a complete exposure and when you come to actually know the artist, you can clearly see them in their work. We're often so involved in our own creative process that imagining other artists aren't moved the same way, seems unfathomable. Why would a creative person be satisfied copying another's work when so many of our own ideas want to explode out of us? Because of this we're probably far more trusting than we ought to be.

I recently came upon a post by Jean Haines where she's being affected by a copying issue. Her post is very well written and I recommend you take a few minutes to go read it. It's about an encounter with a personal collector. Imagine her surprise meeting him at an opening and the conversation turned to copying! He was very concerned about original art he had purchased from her at a lofty price, that was now being mimicked by another. How original was his painting now?

I'm certain it was an interesting conversation, though not one you're expecting at your art opening.

As the UK artist points out, the problem with copying hurts more than just the artist being copied. Though there may exist an ounce of flattery involved, the effects carry on to representing galleries and buyers. Does this raise the value of your art or is it cheapening it? A good question that I'm not equipped to answer.

What do we do about it?

I've stopped posting high resolution photos of my art. It's too bad to have to resort to these changes, when there are so many artists out there interested in seeing work up close. Sometimes I add detailed clips to offset this, but I know for myself that when I find art I really like, I enjoy scrutinizing every inch of it. For that I apologize. Haines is taking it a few steps further. Her art has been evolving in a new direction and she'll be eliminating images of it altogether. It's really a shame to have to resort to such severe measures.

We spend so much of our art life getting as much exposure as possible. Art inspires people. It can have a very powerful effect on viewers, even to the point of changing someone's life. It's impossible to know how yours has affected others. So how terrible is it that an artist is moved to stop exposing any current work? It really saddens me. I hope I never get to the point where I want to hide my art from the masses. I'm not blaming Jean. As her career escalates, she feels it necessary to protect herself and her buyers.

I don't know what the solution is. Perhaps there really isn't one. Copying an artist's work to understand art with intensions of improvement is one thing. Copying art with intensions of sales is a whole different ball game...

How are you dealing with this problem? How are you protecting yourself from the few unethical ones?

Trusting instincts

2011-09-20T16:24:00.000-04:00

A Marilyn Moment

Original oil painting 28x22"

by Susan Roux

Painting is unusual. Most things, do them long enough and you almost become an expert. I know this like the back of my hand. Sometimes you feel you could even do them with your eyes closed.

Not true with painting.

It seems no matter how long you paint, or how good you get at it, there are always those pesky paintings that give you a run for your money. For some unknown reason they just won't come together. It's like back paddling, never pushing you forward. You begin to feel like you're just moving paint around. Colors that were once alive, dull. The more you layer, the worse it gets. At some point you might even consider wiping down the entire canvas. It's how I felt yesterday while toiling on this painting.

But...

Frustration can be your friend. Seriously. It doesn't feel like it at the time, but when you get to the point where you're ready to just trash the entire canvas, freedom and spontaneity take over. The big brushes come out. There's fearlessness pumping through your veins. That "I don't give a care" attitude can propel quantities of emotion onto your canvas. With big bold strokes, you find yourself hacking into your work. Where you once delicately painted detail, you now obliterate with a single stroke. Oddly it seems to be better. Either that or you just feel better unleashing. The painting takes an unexpected turn. A clearer direction, perhaps a new direction announces itself.

Often a new day and fresh eyes help. You might even put off going into the studio. After all you're expecting to see a terrible mess, but it usually isn't as bad as you remembered. Those bold strokes of late yesterday seem to compliment. That's when you know your gut took over. There's an empowering drive in trusting your instincts. It's comforting to see your instincts didn't fail you. Even through bad days behind the easel, the creative you persevered. There's wonderful energy in that. Part of you suddenly becomes reassured.

When the going gets tough the tough get going. Kevin Mizner recently posted about keep on working especially when everything is going wrong. He never brings it full circle to connect with the painting process, but it's implied.

Where do you land on this? How long do you work a painting? Do you try to salvage or does it get dumped as soon as it begins to go awry?

Are you trusting your instincts?

Linda Blondheim

2011-09-10T08:55:00.000-04:00

Lupines in the Sky

Original oil painting 10x30"

by Susan Roux

I stumbled upon a little gem this morning...

Did I ever mention I live in the woods? It isn't hard to do when you live in rural Maine. Trees grow here like weeds. Even after they've been cut down, the stubborn stumps rebel by sending up five new trees in its place. Keeping the woods from swallowing up the whole property is nearly a full time job. I'm cutting and pruning and fighting them back all the time and they're still winning. What was once a sunny front yard has become a shady haven. My suffering perennial gardens haven't liked the transition very much.

As much as I complain about my growing shade, I love the woods. I always have. There's something so peaceful about it. I love the smells, the sounds and the look of sunlight filtering in. I live in a world that is absolutely green. Well at least in the warmer months... The forest is so thick with underbrush you can't see very far in. After the leaves drop, a new view deep into the rolling terrain is revealed. In winter the sun lights up the white blanket we call snow, illuminating the woods, allowing me to see into it the furthest. My world is far brighter during the winter months than it is in the shade of summer.

It's very different having surroundings that are constantly changing to seeing the same neighbors house across the street. I find it inspiring. I feel immersed in nature. I feel protected.

I know I'm not alone in my love for trees.

My neighbor's getting married next month and having a large outdoor reception. She's labeled the tables, not with numbers, but with different varieties of trees. How cool is that?

Today I found a blogger who's love for trees dips into the realm of passion. Not only does she paint trees, she also keeps a tree scrapbook. She calls it her Tree Journal. Just the title makes me think she adds to it regularly. Tidbits of bark, leaves and twigs. It's part of her reference material. Such a tactile experience...

She isn't just observing the trees, she's really connected to them.

And it shows in her work.

These are just a sampling of the lovely work you'll find on her blog. I know you haven't been there yet because I'm her first follower. Do yourself a favor and go introduce yourself to Linda Blondheim, the wonderful Tree Painter.

On a sadder note. It's hard to talk about trees and not think of the burning fires in Texas. My heart goes out to all those effected. Let's pray the firefighters can gain control over them soon.

The painting posted, Lupines in the Sky, was shown in progress on an earlier post.

Monhegan Coast

2011-08-29T00:07:00.001-04:00

Monhegan Coast

Original oil painting 16x20"

by Susan Roux

Hurricane Irene passed, tourist are leaving and school is beginning. As summer winds down and fall approaches, it triggers a change in routine. With regards to art, for me it means a different mindset. I kind of lollygag along during the summer months. It's not to say that I don't work hard, rather nothing seems to matter. There aren't any pressing deadlines to meet and it becomes more a time of play or experimenting. I do whatever I want. Paint what I want. Nothing is created with a specific destination in mind and I'm free to take as long on a painting as I choose.

It's a lot like a day at the beach. You know, sit around all day. Take a stroll, pick up a few rocks or shells. Drag your toes in the sand. Watch the waves roll in time after time trying desperately to remember the range of beautiful colors in it's endless dance to a frothy break.

But vacation's over and it's time to buckle down and get serious again.

Do you morph like this in autumn too? I've already begun changing. Papers are rising on my desk. Printed sheets of tasks I want to do, things I want to look into. I've already searched out a bunch of galleries I'd like to approach and a serious pace to prepare packets will soon follow. This is also the time of year I begin seriously painting new work for next year's gallery season.

I spent time taking lots of photos this summer and hope that I have ample references to carry me to next year. Between what I paint on my own time and all my classes, it takes a large amount of good photos. Which leads me to the painting posted, Monhegan Coast.

This is a painting I did with one class. We pulled out our palette knives. Yes I said palette knives! I never do that. To mix paint, yes. But never to apply paint to canvas. So in it I jumped, all the while trying to direct my students without knowing what I was doing. I thought it was the perfect tool for the rugged coast that covered most of our scene.

It turned out to be very freeing. Jags of paint left tiny shadows which created additional cracks in the rocks. Some students who get caught up in too much detail found themselves playing in paint. It was a great exercise for everyone. I suspect I'll be picking up the palette knife to lay down paint again soon.

The ocean was interesting to do. It has a very different appearance when looking at it from high above as oppose to being at the beach. Students wanted to make breaking waves as they know them from the shore. But the shapes flatten out and all that is left is change in values and color.

This was a fun painting to do. I took lots of coast photos on Monhegan. It's hard not to. So perhaps another rugged coast painting will show up before I know it. I remember the day class arrived and saw this scene. No one thought they could paint it. I'm happy to report that they all amazed themselves. I had some real beginner students in it too and they left with something they were very proud of. Great job class!

So now that summer's ending... what kind of changes does that mean for you?

Flirting with folds

2011-08-14T09:47:00.000-04:00

"Bonjour!"

Original oil painting 24x18"

by Susan Roux

I spent the week away in a rental house with friends and family. It was a few yards from the beach and at low tide you could walk for miles in ankle high water. Conveniently, low tide occurred in the afternoon and a promenade through the crystal clear water was the perfect way to relax after painting all day long. I arrived back home yesterday and already miss those afternoon strolls and evening sunsets...

The household was bubbling with activity. Everyone going in different directions to view the area. I'd been there many times and decided in advance to set my easel inside and paint as if it were my studio. I didn't think I'd spend the entire week on only one painting, but I did. After coffee, people would scatter and my daily activity began. It was so nice to have nothing to do but paint. You could say I was on vacation, but I worked very hard.

I'm posting her a bit incomplete. As I look at her with fresh eyes, I can see a few areas that need touching up. Aren't there always..? My focus was the folds in the fabric. I wanted to capture volume and twists. The more I work on this subject, the more I realize I have a long way to go. Folds are a challenge all their own. My wish is to capture fullness and movement while still keeping everything really soft. For now, rigid keeps creeping in.

It's ok though.

I recently took my model on a photo shoot and I have lots of new material to work with. In time with hard work and long hours behind the easel, I'll probably capture what I set out to achieve. I know I'm pretty tough on myself, but the desire to improve continues to bubble through me. If painstakingly is what it takes, then painstakingly it will be!

Thanks for stopping by. I don't spend nearly enough time thanking all of you for your continued support including the time you take to leave comments. Whether nice, sweet, humorous or critical, I love reading them all. You make my day!

With humble gratitude, I thank you.

Nicolaides words

2011-07-30T09:35:00.002-04:00

Fetch

Original oil painting 18x24"

by Susan Roux

After dozens of suggestions from Don to buy Nicolaides, The Natural Way to Draw, I finally own a copy. I haven't posted for awhile because I've been toiling over this painting. Do you ever do that? Toil? I have grunts and groans, huffs and puffs of exasperation that pour uncontrollably from my body. I throw my brush down, take a few steps, turn to look at my work through a mirror, exhale deeply with thrust and return to do another stroke. The level of concentration is so great that each stroke seems a massive effort. In the beginning of Nicolaides book, I read a new word to describe this. Painstakingly.

It describes my efforts to a T. It's miles away from having "fun" on canvas. It's deep and concentrated and a place I don't always get to while painting. It renders with precision and every now and then, I find it necessary for what I'm trying to achieve. In this particular case his sweatshirt became the challenge. I wanted it to read oversized. My fear was making him just look fat.

The secret was in the folds. Nail the folds and it will look correct. So I spent hours and hours and days and days on those folds. Long days.

I was pretty content with the results. I know these images are inferior as usual and some of the values and transitions are incorrect. But still, I feel I captured so much extra space in his sweatshirt that you could almost crawl right into it with him. Painstakingly. Yeah, good word.

Nicolaides had another word to describe a painting method. Ferociously.

Now doesn't that conjure up a great image for you? He ferociously put paint to canvas. The release expressed in that sentence is massive. It reminds me of my initial block in. Some parts go on slower, but I definitely have moments of ferocious strokes. Spontaneity and determined force are things I associate with that. I often call it scribbling with paint. My backgrounds certainly fall into that category. This is where I'm in fear of having too much fun on canvas. Sometimes it's tempting to call a painting finished after ferociously blocking it in. It's full of freshness and personal emotion. It's easy to feel connected to it, but rarely my best work.

The biggest challenge I had with this painting was trying to keep enough spontaneous looking strokes to achieve movement. The tightness of the folds made this difficult. I found myself softening them a bit in the end. I felt I had to overcompensate by making my loose strokes extra loose, otherwise it all looked too stiff.

There lies a balance in there somewhere. I know I have a lot to learn before perfecting it. Maybe it never gets perfected. A juggling of the right amount of painstakingly and ferociously applied strokes. The yin and yang of art. Balance. Rhythm. A poetry of color...

The journey continues.

Critique, yes or no?

2011-07-16T15:27:00.000-04:00

Lupines in the Sky

Work in progress

10x30" gallery wrap

by Susan Roux

Where do you stand on the subject of critique?

My last post showed a painting before a critique and where I pushed it following a critique. A good critique is priceless, in my opinion. I wish I had one for every painting I paint. I find it elevates my work to new heights. It keeps me pushing, trying to achieve something beyond where I previously stopped. Just last night Mike and I were discussing this and he wished he had to a good photographer friend who could give him a good critique.

Odd thing is, as much as we would like to be continually critiqued, there are many who are opposed to it. It takes a tough skin to listen to your creative work be interpreted by another. We become tied and connected to the things we create.

It's a reflection of ourselves. Who has the right to tell us what's wrong with it?

Rejection in any form is difficult. It can knock the wind right out of you. But I don't think of a good critique as a rejection. Quite the contrary. When someone takes the time to analyze a work they usually already have an attraction to it. The critique isn't designed to crush an artist, but to urge him (her) to think of it in different terms and possibly see it differently as well. We get very close to our work. Especially those of us who work a painting for an extended period of time. So much of ourselves is invested in it.

Though just as love is blind, so often is the artist who has a certain goal in mind. We'll set parameters for ourselves. Things like a limited palette or brushstroke edges. Some soft, some hard, some blurred, some bold and distinct. We can focus so hard on certain aspects of our work, that we'll easily miss other things. Things we already know. They slip from memory temporarily. A good critique allows you to retain what you've captured and helps you push it to an even stronger finish.

Imagine all the paintings you've ever painted. If you could take the best things from them and put it all together in one work of art, wouldn't that be wonderful? This is the critique to me. No one is teaching you how to paint it, only allowing you the insight to add a bit more and turn your work into a wow. It's never about repainting the entire painting (though Don's sent me to do that a few times as well...). It's about taking what you have and adjusting it. It might be defining something or dulling something. Perhaps adding a punch of color or contrast.

There exists a fear of loosing what we've already captured and ruining it. Loosing that look of freshness. Getting it overworked. But returning to a painting for adjustments needn't be done with your largest brushes. Often tweaking with something tiny that can be blended with the existing work will do the trick.

The other factor that comes up in conversation is the qualifications of the one critiquing.

Yes, I'm very fortunate to have Don Hatfield as my mentor and critique-er. (I can make up words, right?) Yes, he is highly qualified. But often the gut instinct of someone not highly qualified can be as helpful. Your kids can be very honest. Painfully so sometimes when they don't get what this part is. Even after you explain it to them and they tell you well it doesn't look like that.

You'd be surprised how many people can give you a good critique. Many of us have the knowledge, it's getting it on canvas that's the challenge!

So where do you stand on critique? Is it a gift or an insult?

Heart vs Fundamentals

2011-07-04T13:23:00.002-04:00

Lupines at Dusk

Original oil painting 10x20"

by Susan Roux

Creating art can be a nagging series of conflicts. There exists a fine line between painting from the heart and adhering to the fundamentals. How much of one is too much? Painting from the heart is freeing and spontaneous. Letting go. The brush dips in color and impulse and the canvas dictate what color is next. You feel your creativity bubbling out of you and great joy is experienced in the process. If that's all you do, where do you end up?

Is there such a thing as having too much fun painting?

The fundamentals, those pesky rules, pull it all together. The values define shapes. Design and composition lead the eye. Sun and shadow patterns contribute to the illusion of reality. A wise man told me an artist is allowed only a small portion of fun to be visible per painting. Oh shucks, really?

Here is me painting from the heart. I was captivated by the lupines on Monhegan. I loved the way they danced in the sky. I photographed a lot of them, but the feeling of observing them could not be replicated in an image. I wanted to portray them at dusk. Those wonderful lupine shades were transformed during golden hour. How rich and warm the cool blue's, pink's and purple's became. I concentrated on capturing that. My photo references were poor suggestions, so imagination took over.

Once I finally captured the light I was after, I felt the painting was complete. Funny how if you toss in one crazy element you're unstable with, everything you're grounded on slips from memory. A well advised critique put it all back into perspective for me. Too much heart and not enough fundamentals. Form became sacrificed au lieu de couleur.

I returned to the painting, freed from focusing only on color and began to establish form. Somewhere between heart and fundamentals one can strike a balance that satisfies. Satisfies the viewer, satisfies the artist. After all, if the passage is not defined well enough, the viewer misses the message...

Painting the fog

2011-07-01T09:30:00.002-04:00

Monhegan Fog

Original oil painting 16x12"

by Susan Roux

I experimented while on Monhegan.

I began by spending two days painting a lovely garden in plein air. As you know, I'm a studio painter by preference. I enjoy being out in the elements, feeling the breeze, hearing the sounds, smelling the air, but my mind wants to paint like I have all the time in the world. After two days in glorious sun, it was time I get myself out of it.

Anticipating rain at some point, I brought a few printed images from my previous trip to Monhegan. I had a foggy scene and found myself missing painting my girls. It's odd how desire for something sparks one to deviate from normal behavior. I'd been trying to figure out how to incorporate the impressionist backgrounds I use on my girls into my scenery paintings. Suddenly in a new environment, it became clear to me.

The fog holds little detail and it seemed the perfect subject to launch myself there. I was set up indoors and aside from continual breaks to aloe myself, I was relaxed and in my element. Tucked in a corner with an ocean view, barefoot and dancing with my brush in hand while Luka played in my ears.

I took my time. I played with color. Adding, subtracting, neutralizing...

My reference photo was soon pushed aside and the canvas took over. It wasn't about copying anything. It became all about feeling. The feeling different colors emitted. The feeling of certain pigments against other pigments. Pure color navigated the course. I delighted in observation as color touched color. It became a time for learning, for experimenting. I can get pretty chaotic with color on canvas before pulling it all together in the end to hopefully find a soft relaxing scene. My housemates came over periodically to see what I was up to. They found wild color scribbled all over the canvas. They looked at my printed gray image. Confusion was written all over their face. They didn't say a word. Each observer had the same reaction. I know they couldn't imagine where I was going with this. Needless to say when it was finally finished, they were surprised with the results. It went from chaos to tranquility.

Clarity in the fog. How can you beat that?

Note: Unfortunately just as in my girls, photos cannot do justice to the rich, luminous, seemingly-alive backgrounds my technique is creating. You'll just have to see my art in person someday...

Modern-day PIRATES

2011-06-29T11:27:00.001-04:00

This is a painting claimed by Hugo Diaz Mapi. He's a Spanish artist (and I'll use that lightly) who claims to be a digital painter by use of Photoshop. Oddly it bears quite a resemblance to

Don Hatfield's Looking for Treasures...

This is an original Hugo Diaz Mapi. Or is it?

Here is Don Hatfield's Brothers. Does moving a few pieces around and clicking a few filters on Photoshop constitute the rights to call something your own? Notice the boy in blue overalls on the left.

Whoops... here he is again in another Hugo Diaz Mapi!

With this lady of Don's

and this beach!

Son of a beach! What is this world coming too? Are some so jealous of other's ability to create that all they can do is copy, steal and pirate?

Beware of Hugo Diaz Mapi folks!

He contacted me with compliments on my impressionist art. He mentioned Don's name and asked if I knew of any other American impressionist. Then he asked that I look him up on Facebook and send him a friend request. I didn't give him any artists names, but I did send him a friend request. It was only after he accepted that I was able to see these images and more that were copied from dozen's of artists.

Send him a friend request on Facebook to see if you're one of his victims. After a few days, let him know what you think of his "art". We can all use our voice. Together we might speak loud enough...

I'll be cutting down the resolution on my painting images from now on. It's a shame. I really enjoy being able to click and enlarge paintings to see the details. There are always those who ruin it for everyone. Hugo Diaz Mapi. He's definitely one bad apple...

Hey Mr. Mapi, I can use Photoshop too.

Back from Monhegan

2011-06-27T09:25:00.000-04:00

We arrived with the island in full sun. It was a welcoming gift for a place that has a reputation of being so gray. The lupins were in full bloom and they sparkled with sunlight as we walked towards our home for the week. Flowering trees were everywhere and the aroma of sweet flower petals filled the air. I was so happy to be back.

It was already mid-afternoon. After settling into our room, it left just enough time for a walk through town before dinner. Cameras in hand, Mike and I slowly made our way down the narrow dirt streets. The slow pace made it feel like we were re-introducing ourselves to the island. Many things had changed so little, others had changed a lot.

During dinner a sudden downpour quickly changed the light filtering in the house. Lightening and thunder clashed and roared. Water poured down the street carving a deep variegated gully. I was glad I had taken a stroll before eating. How quickly things can change. It was a fast moving storm and before the dishes were done, a photographer noticed we had a rainbow.

Not just a rainbow, but a double rainbow!

Our house sits on Fish Beach and we were able to back up just enough to see the entire arc of the rainbow. It ended directly on our house! This had to be a good sign.

This was a very old house built in the 17 hundreds. It was a bit rougher than the usual accommodations I seek. But here as the pot of gold at the tip of the rainbow, I sensed magical things were going to happen. Excitement and inspiration were already pumping through my veins.

The house may have looked a bit dodgy, but our view made up for it.

This was the morning view from our second story bathroom. Yes, I said bathroom... I loved how the sun lit up the boats in the harbor. It made me want to jump out of bed. You may think I saturated the colors, but no. This is how vibrant it looks on a sunny morning.

Our ancient house softened with charm at golden hour. You can see it here at the top of the tiny beach. Not so dodgy looking anymore. Many people came to the beach in the evening. It became the perfect setting for clicking people pictures easily from the comfort of my beach chair. We had musicians in the house and they would gather outside to play and sing. Children would wade at the water's edge picking sea-glass and shells and dragging little sticks in the water. My camera was busy as golden light lit their clothes and captured their merriment. They'll be future paintings from this trip, I promise...

Monhegan Island

2011-06-14T09:13:00.004-04:00

Step back in time 100 years.

This is what Monhegan feels like..

Monhegan is an island ten miles off the coast of Maine. It's known as the Artists' Island and for good reason. Artists have been flocking here for years. So what's the draw? What makes Monhegan so exciting? Why do I see artists gathered at every turn?

You could ask this question to many and get lots of different answers. It's inspiring to say the least.

Foot power is the mode of transportation. Only a few trucks inhabit the island and they're used for deliveries - your baggage to your rental and supplies to the local residents. Oddly here, vehicles have the right of way.

One of the things that struck me most, especially as a landscape artist, was the strange atmosphere. Aside from the west coast, our weather, the clouds in the sky approach from having come over land. On Monhegan they approach from traveling over ocean. The island is so small, it's as though it isn't there and doesn't effect the passing clouds. You wouldn't think it makes much difference, but the sky and conditions here blew me away. You'll experience cloud formations and sky colors you've never seen. You're there to paint the island, but somehow the sky captivates you. I was in awe.

Photos can't do it justice. The look here on the blog is a simple gray. But the light here is nothing but a simple gray. The fog that rolls in is saturated with glowing warm light. The sun burning through, or just attempting. It renders the island a magical look. The air is fresh and you fill your lungs with the moisture of salty goodness. You walk at a slow pace, visually taking everything in. Quiet. The sound of quiet with the rhythm of ocean waves crashing on the rugged Atlantic side hums continuously. The only place it can't be heard is in the dense forest. It feels healing here.

Your creative soul is at peace. Clarity...

There's no schedule on Monhegan. Artists can be found from the crack of dawn, capturing the incredible sunrise that makes Monana glow, until dark for the orange sunset. Monana is the tiny island across the harbor seen in the top image. It helps protect the island creating a quiet cove, good for fishing boats and the ongoing ferry.

Nearly everyone you meet is an artist. The locals are artists. Beautiful artistic artifacts, sculptures and gardens adorn your walk. You can't help but sense an artistic power in the air. If you have artists' block, this is your hospital of cure. It's impossible for an artist to come to Monhegan and not paint.

This coming weekend, I'll be arriving here. 12 artists will share a large house on the ocean facing Manana for a week of painting and good healing. We'll unplug from life for a brief while and see what our creative souls conjure up. Awhhhhhh... I'm relaxing just thinking about it.

Step back in time 100 years. This is what Monhegan feels like..

Jim Bean

2011-06-11T12:04:00.006-04:00

An Artist's Cottage

Original oil painting 16x20"

by Susan Roux

Don't you just love surprises?

A few weekends back, the lilacs were in full bloom. I don't know about other places, but Maine grows lilacs like they were nursed on Rapid Gro. My favorites are the one's planted near old farmhouses. Grand porched-expanses, of addition upon addition with dormers tucked in everywhere, these white old-fashion beauties can be seen on any country drive. The lilacs hugging corners of these charming homes have grown enormous over time, oozing sweet perfume that lingers in the air.

Did people have uses for lilacs back then? It seems every old house had them. Now-a-days when people build a house they plant rhododendrons or azaleas. Back then it was, build a house plant lilacs, rhubarb and raspberries. Two can be eaten, but it still leaves me wondering why everyone had lilacs? Was it just because it was easy to get free from your neighbors?

Whatever the reason, it was height of blossom season, and Mike and I set out to capture them on a photo shoot. There is a wonderful 30 mile loop around a nearby lake with many of these old houses along the way. The sun was shining and stop and walk (the car, that is) became the rhythm of the day.

Somewhere in the middle of our loop a garage door opened as I walked by. Mike had stayed back in the car, because seriously how many pictures of lilacs did he really need? I on the other hand was out in search of good painting material and every lilac bush along the way got its chance to audition.

I was caught by surprise when I glimpsed the gentleman who opened the door. He was an old Mainer from the word go. Almost Santa Clause looking but with faded jean overalls rather than the typical bright red ones. My first thought was I wonder if I can quickly get an inconspicuous shot of his bearded face? The thought was fleeting however, for when I saw what was in his garage, I began to talk to him. He truly was a Santa Clause.

His garage was anything but a garage. It was like landing at the north pole. A wonderful saw-dust filled workshop that smelled of freshly cut pine, with a makeshift store-front of wood creations. I didn't hesitate to flag Mike over. This was a "must see".

Do you mind if I take pictures? Can I blog about you?

My fascination with every inch of his meandering workshop was instantly evident. How wonderful to find this wood artist tucked in the middle of nowhere! Maine perhaps has more artists per capita then any other state. Some are boisterous and flashy, trying to make their name known. Others are tucked in quietly hanging only a little shingle outside their door announcing their art. (I don't suppose I have to tell you which category I fall into...)

We stayed and talked for a long time. He was happy to have visitors including the opportunity to show his many creations.

There were wooden toy trucks and trains. There were bird feeders and birdhouses.

There were ornamental scroll-cut filigreed pieces. Some of which were used to create large clocks. There were wooden baskets and whirligigs, wooden boxes and plaques.

Even trucks in a box!

Some items were hand-carved. Some he sold to artists who paint designs and resell then at craft shows. He wondered if I was interested in this too?

If I blog about you, I need to know your name. My name is Jim.

I need your last name too. Bean. My name is Jim Bean.

Like the drink? Yes, just like the drink, but with an N.

Well I shouldn't have trouble remembering that!

I need to bring my Dad here. I'd love to talk to your Dad. I like talking to old folks.

So there it is. Jim Bean is a modern day Santa Clause who lives in the woods of Maine. He's a gentle man, an artist, a jolly soul who thrives on visitors stopping in. He treasures his simple way of life and like many artists, sells his creations for less than they are worth. He was a true find on an artist's photo shoot and I loved exploring his studio...

Paint a story

2011-06-02T08:48:00.000-04:00

Coming Out

Original oil painting 24x18"

by Susan Roux

A blogging-writer friend recently sent me an excerpt from a book she's writing. It's a very rough draft she told me. I have to tell you it was very interesting to experience the work in progress. I've never stopped to think about writers and their creative process, but suddenly I couldn't get it off my mind.

It fascinated me how the idea she created needed to be "hatched" before outlines and chapters could be written. Just reading a short bit opened my eyes to how the many pieces of the process come together. It gave me a glimpse into her idea and made my imagination run wild, almost to the point of making me feel like I wanted to write this story...

But who am I kidding?

The funny thing was, afterwards I couldn't shake it from my mind. As though clear as freshly washed glass, I realized the aspects that make art good are the same aspects needed in all forms of art, be it writing, dancing, singing etc. The comparisons flooded my head...

Words, like brushstrokes, could be colorful or dull and grouped together to suggest a unified idea. Every paragraph, every chapter needs a focal point. Needless brushstrokes or words only get in the way, busying up the composition. Making it hard to follow. The more I thought of these things, the clearer and clearer creating art became to me.

It's not about painting a girl or a fruit or a tree. We learn to do that very early on in our painting lives. The juice of the matter is to capture these elements with passion. The colors, the strokes we use need to be so unified that a single one missing would render it incomplete. Imagine a song with a crucial note missing? Everything must work harmoniously together, supporting one main idea.

More than an idea, really.

A painting must tell a story. It's what pulls the viewer in, lets their imagination run free therefore keeping them engaged.

A book must paint a picture. It's what pulls the reader in, lets their imagination run free therefore keeping them engaged.

It's the same thing. But with a switch. The painter must tell a story and the writer, paint a picture. As painters we are not painting pictures. Why didn't anyone tell me this years ago? We are telling a story with paint. All you writers, you are not writing a story. You are painting a picture with words. Why was this easier to see through a different form of art?

So in conclusion, if you can follow my skewed way of thinking, artist should be grouped with writers. They'll be the ones who'll let us know if we told a story. Conversely, writers should be grouped with painters so we can help them paint a picture. After all we know how to paint a picture. We could be very helpful with that.

Paint a story. A passionate story.

Now that's a challenge. Go find yourselves writers to help you.

Note: Coming Out was painted from a black and white photo. It's the first time I've attempted this and found it to be completely freeing! Colors weren't dictated at all. How would I have painted such a rainbow hat with suggested colors hampering my imagination?

Nicole Mackintosh

2011-05-29T16:22:00.004-04:00

Rosebush

Original oil painting 16x20"

by Susan Roux

May is Brain Tumor Awareness Month. As some of you already know, I have a young niece with DIPG. She was diagnosed with this terminal brain tumor in January of last year.

This photo was taken prior to her life altering diagnosis. A beautiful, soon to be 8 year old, child with an enormous heart. She has undergone so much in the past 16 months, I could never begin to put it into words. Today, this is a photo of Nicole.

Her disease and treatments have altered her appearance almost beyond recognition. One thing however has not changed, her enormous loving heart. She is seen here pushing a filled grocery cart. Not a cartful purchased by mom that she helps push to the car. No, it is a cartful that she willingly purchased with coins she worked very hard to earn in order to buy food for the poor.

Several moths ago, she decided on her own to do this project for the local food pantry. She asked to be paid for doing odd jobs around the house. Odd jobs that had become a difficult task for a child in her condition. Her heart ached for people who couldn't afford to buy things such as food. She earned the money, made out a shopping list, went shopping and recently delivered her gift. Just pushing the cart was difficult as she often needs a wheelchair to get around these days. I don't know if this special project was prompted by her insatiable appetite due to steroids, bringing her to an acute understanding of what it means to hunger or simply God working through her to teach us all a beautiful lesson in selflessness and giving.

Most likely all of you have lost a loved one to cancer or know a cancer survivor. What is this terrible disease? Where did it come from? I fear our corporations have released countless chemicals over decades into our air, rivers and land. What happened to the fallout of all the nuclear testing of yesteryear? What about present day nuclear catastrophes? In a quest to improve our lives, is it possible humans have only sabotaged them?

May is Brain Tumor Awareness Month. Hundreds of young children, beautiful young children like Nicole, suffer from this. Unfortunately too little goes into finding a cure. Unlike Nicole's selfless act, when the cost to find a cure outweighs the profits to be made, funding for research gets pushed aside. What are we waiting for?

People are going green to help save our planet, but what about companies, corporations? What about all that's been released into our world? Will anyone stand accountable? After all, our planet isn't the only thing suffering...

May is Brain Tumor Awareness Month.

Spare time

2011-05-23T09:07:00.005-04:00

Stonington Ledge

Original oil painting 14x18"

by Susan Roux

Getting back to normal.

At least I hope so. My life has been flying at a faster pace than usual and I'm very happy to return to my simple routine. Isn't that funny about routines? They can become so mundane and make you fell stuck in a rut, but lose if for too long and you're quite happy to return to it. This week my only commitments are the classes I teach. I wonder if I can get to the end of the week without creating new ones for myself...

It's usually a challenge.

I don't know about you, but I can't seem to keep my idle time idle for very long. As soon as there is spare time, I begin to fill it up. The same is true of my desk. My students know it is a piled mess. An organized mess though. I can usually find what I want in seconds. What my students don't know is if I take a day to clean it, I no sooner begin to fill it up again. Not just with random papers. Oh no. I start searching the internet finding things to apply to or getting ideas and of course I don't want to forget all this information I'm compiling, so it goes on paper. Lots and lots of paper. Then books and notebooks and folders followed by post-it notes and tiny pieces of different colored notepad paper to keep my thousands of thoughts in order. In the end, there isn't any order to be seen. Clutter covering my entire desk.

So as much as I would love to have a clean desk, I almost fear cleaning it. Fear of giving myself more projects!

For this week, I'll retreat to my easel. I've missed spreading paint around. How long has it been since I've painted one of my dreamy beach girls? Too long, I say.

Stonington Ledge is one of nine paintings I recently delivered at Blue Hill Bay Gallery (not to be confused with the Blue Heron Gallery), located in lovely Blue Hill, Maine. I stopped in to visit Peter, the owner, last June during my weeklong get-a-way to Deer Isle in quest of painting lupines. He agreed to represent me starting this year. You remember, right? Stonington is a lovely fishing village located on the tip of Deer Isle. Painting works for Peter was a real joy. The scenery up there is calming and beautiful. Much like the people who inhabit the area. The pace reminded me of Ireland. It's so fulfilling to know such places exist and when we really wish to slow down, we can retreat to these little gems to participate and be rejuvenated in their ways.

Another interesting fact about this painting is I did it with some beginner students. It was their 3rd painting. Yes, you read that correctly. Third painting. I won't tell you we did it in a snap, but without any pencil drawing, I let them through this complex painting, step by step. Their results were astounding! I had second year students watching this painting develop and feeling they were still not ready for such a composition. But seriously, I could have led them through it as well...

Stas Borodin

2011-05-17T09:35:00.002-04:00

Susan Roux

Painting at Great Falls, Auburn Maine

I've been absent from Blogworld for awhile, but with good reason.

A very unexpected visitor came to stay with me last week. The Russian artist I mentioned recently in my post about the traveling painting, Stas Borodin, phoned me out of the blue announcing he was in Providence, RI and had some free time to come to Maine. It's been three years since I've seen or heard from him. How odd that at the moment I mention him, he contacts me.

Stas has never stayed with me before, though I've painted with him many times. This was a new experience for all of us. Being with Stas means one thing. Every day, no matter the weather, you go out to paint all day long. If you recall my last post, I was telling you how exhausted I've been. I wasn't in the best condition for the start of a Stas visit. I have to say, keeping up with Stas nearly killed me. My typical day of sitting at the computer blogging with morning coffee and standing in front of my easel in a warm house with Luka Bloom serenading me was a far cry from Stas's normal day. That said, my time with him was very precious and though tiring, I wouldn't give it up for anything.

Stas is a master.

I've been talking to you lately of the importance of fundamentals and how they're no longer taught in today's schools and universities. To really learn them, one must do so from the masters of today. If they don't pass down this knowledge, it will be lost forever within a few decades. That sad thought ripples up my spine. So no matter how tired I was, when a master offered to come paint with me, there was no hesitation to say yes!

If you've been reading any blogs from other Mainers, you already know the weather has been windy, rainy and cold. What was predicted to be a warm sunny week, turned quite differently when a large storm stalled out in the Atlantic, turning and churning the clouds overhead. I only froze on day one. Afterwards wearing my modern day long-john's became daily attire.

Stas is a wonderful person. Don't let the things the government taught us about Russians years ago scare you. If you've had the pleasure to know any, you already know how nice and gentle they really are. Stas is no exception. His kind soul pours out on canvas. His paintings are timeless, brilliantly orchestrated with layers of colors that vibrate the eye and shine with similar luminosity of the inside of a shell. His strokes are broad and rigid, like mosaic tiles scattered atop the canvas. His compositions are unusual. Not the typical lead in with pointers to direct the eye. His paintings grab you with something, some object, and once in, your eye dances a happy vibrating dance bouncing around pleasurably throughout flecks of color. His work is impressionistic. The light it emulates is captivating and entrancing. His work is not always understood at first glance, but get into a roomful of his art and you find yourself touched with a flood of emotion. A rainbow of pastels and grays surround you and with such softness speak the emotions of a well traveled man.

Stas is a unique artist in today's world. It's never about money. It's always about painting. He travels for months at a time with minimal baggage. His art supplies and a few clothes. From country to country, staying with friends he's made along the way, he hops around the world with magnificent stories and a smile on his face. He'll sell a painting right off the easel to a passerby. A few dollars in his pocket help him hop the next bus out of town. He arrives without notice and leaves like the wind blowing pass.

It feels like a quick dream. There is no contact. His cell phone is a Russian number. He doesn't have a laptop. You pinch yourself wondering if it was even real. But photos and a few paintings left behind are proof that he was really here.

He left for NYC where his paintings from Providence and Maine are being exhibited as I write. I got a sneak peek at the entire body of work. It's magnificent. I can't even tell you the venue. Communication is choppy and sometimes difficult. All I can tell you is it's a former synagogue turned art center on Manhattan. Also on view there is an exhibit of the famous Russian artist, Ilya Repin. If you can decipher this code and are nearby, do yourself a favor and go visit.

Time

2011-05-05T09:19:00.000-04:00

Tassels

Original oil painting 28x22"

by Susan Roux

Where does the time go? I feel as though it's whizzing by!

I think I'm trying to do too much. I'm running on exhaustion lately and still have plenty of things I'd like to get to. Energy. Lack of energy and a tired body slow me down. I heard this could (would) happen with age... Don't you just hate it when they're right?

Thoughts usually ricochet in my head like the silver ball in a pinball machine. Creative thoughts, imaginative thoughts, even organizational thoughts. So many thoughts and ideas, it's often hard to sleep because they don't turn off. Today I sit before you with a blank mind. It seems so strange. I know it's because it wants to shut down and sleep, but not today. There is still too much to do.

Here is my latest girl. Charlie at The Wright Gallery sold Sundress after having her for a week. This is for him. I'll be delivering it early next week, hopefully. It's like my husband says. Charlie can't sell them if I don't paint them.

Words of wisdom.

The painting

2011-04-30T09:37:00.003-04:00

Artists Union Exhibition Center

Saint Petersburg, Russia

Some stories are so unusual, they scream to be told.

One of my galleries has not updated their website in a number of years. They'd lost their graphics guy and one thing let to another, with the owner uninterested in the internet, well... it never got done. The website stayed frozen in time. Frozen since 2007.

I'm not judging here. My own website has been frozen in time as well and I can update it myself. No need for a graphics guy. I'm just giving you this information because it's important to the story.

Nothing on the site revealed that it hadn't been updated and recently a client contacted the gallery inquiring about a particular painting. The gallery owner couldn't give him an answer. He must have been embarrassed because the site has since been updated. Yeah! I received an email from the gallery asking if the painting was still available.

At first I didn't even know which painting it was. You understand how that is, right? I recognized the title, but I painted it in 2006. I've done a few paintings since then. Embracing the Sea. What painting was that? Then an image came to mind. Yes, I knew for certain that painting had never sold and was still available. I immediately went looking for it in the haphazard stash of canvases that continue to grow in a corner of my cellar.

It wasn't there.

Think, think. Where can it be? My mind quickly traveled to other various venues where art is hanging. No. Not at any of those places.

Then it hit me. Please continue to read on. My continuity switches here, but it's all for the story...

In 2008, I exhibited 22 paintings in Saint Petersburg, Russia. That in itself is a long story, but not the one I'm telling you today. I was invited there by the Russian artist, Stas Borodin. He was having an enormous exhibition of 200 paintings and asked that I share this experience by exhibiting in the next room. Suffice to say it was very exciting and an experience I will never forget.

It was the first time I flew across the Atlantic. I had been writing to Martine-Alison in France for several years and the thought of being so close and not swinging by to say hi seemed sinful. After all, all the flights to Russia seemed to stop in Paris. How could I touch down there and not leave the airport? Impossible.

So on our way home from Russia, I went to meet her for the first time. It was really cool to have just exhibited, because not only did we get to see each other, we also got to see each other's art in person. I can still see us on the floor looking at all of it. I decided to leave four behind as she promised to exhibit them along side her own.

I can tell you're connecting the story now...

Yes, Embracing the Sea was in France. No wonder I couldn't find it in my cellar.

We needed it shipped. If you're following Martine-Alison's blog, you already know she was away for several weeks. The painting sat. The potential buyer had a deadline. A big celebration was to take place and he wanted the art for the occasion. Anxiety set in. The gallery owner called. Where is the painting? The client will be here tomorrow!

The painting is sitting in customs.

I suggested he tell the client why the painting was in France. I guess this story of the traveling painting intrigued him, because without ever actually seeing it, he bought it! Yeah again! Most likely he won't have it in time for his special event, but he does have an interesting story to tell his guests. I'm currently preparing a package including these photos to send to him.

Now aren't you glad you read the whole story?

Note: Embracing the Sea is the blue and white painting behind the ponytail in the bottom photo. Did you notice Golden Marsh, from my last post, also went to Russia?