Putting it in motion

Ocean Commotion

(Putting it in motion)

Original oil painting  20x16"

by Susan Roux

Some paintings just beg to be seen in person. This one is no exception. It seems no matter how many times I photograph it and adjust it, I can't get it to look like the original. It's as though I would have to adjust the background in one direction and the foreground in another. Opposing adjustments are essential to each area. How can I do that?

Yes all those colors exist in the background, however the eye blends them together to form a grayed base upon which the figure stands un-conflicted. In this version, the background demands as much attention as the figure. Believe me, in reality it's no contest. She wiggles center stage!

I like this pose. She seems totally in the moment, enjoying the movement of the water and oblivious to all the onlookers. (remember the photo shoot?) She appears seduced by the ocean...  Seduction. The repeating sound can have that effect, can't it?

I'm trying to implement a combination of emotional with fundamentals. Gut instinct with a bit of defining details. I have to admit, it's more fun to paint like this than to painstakingly focus on every stroke. The result is much softer and more emotional. I'm really pleased I took the last year to focus so intensely on the technical part, because I feel it helped improve my finish work. 

Here is my first girl, Frolicking, that was painted just one year ago. Don't you just love it when you can see the benefits of your hard work?

How does your work compare with that of just a year ago? Does it look the same? Are you growing as an artist or do you find yourself stagnating? There are lots of ways to shake things up. Sign up for a workshop. Go paint with other artists. Try some new techniques. Add a few unusual colors to your palette. Upgrade  your paints. Read Nicolaides, The Natural Way to Draw. Whatever you choose, if you focus on improving your skills, you can do whatever it is you set out to do. Work hard and believe in yourself. It's a winning combination. Have fun. Listen to your inner voice and don't forget to Paint the Poetry!

It's all up to you. What are you putting in motion?

Nicolaides words

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.