Artists journey

Gardner's Home

Original oil painting 18x14"

by Susan Roux

Where has your art journey taken you?

I was reading Kevin Mizner's post this morning and he talked about the artist's journey, well mostly his own... He made the statement, "The more I learn, the more I realize how little I know, and how much more there is to know."

Wow. Now there's a loaded statement and it's so true.

Think back when you first started. Didn't you think painting was easy? Do you think you'd have started to paint if you'd actually known how far you had to go? It's one of those totally frustrating things. Like a cartoon mirage. Remember that desert oasis? You see where you want to go and you work towards it only to find when you get there, you're not there at all. You have a long way to journey still.

Art is one of those things that as soon as you get comfortable settling in or accepting your level of achievement as the final end, your work suddenly turns into formula painting and it automatically slips in reverse. Think about that for a minute...

I know you know artists who've done that exact thing. I won't mention any names, but even some of the greats of today have fallen prey to that terrible trap. The artists journey is one without an end. The desire to strive for improvement must remain throughout your life. Look at Monet. He pushed himself to the very end. Even blind, he continued to paint. Just before he lost his vision (those nasty chemicals. I hope you're taking precautions to protect yourself...) is when he did his best work. Why? Why were his nympheas so magnificent? He'd spent a lifetime pushing himself. He never settled into a comfortable place where he accepted his level of achievement.

I remember several years ago studying about color. I began to understand color at a level I didn't know existed. How wonderful to have your eyes opened anew to a subject that already excites you tremendously! Who would have known there was more? I certainly didn't. I floated around wanting to explode with joy and had no one to describe my new discovery to.

I've been trapped at a fairly stagnant level for a few years. Yes, there were some paintings that rose above the others, but mostly my work had flatlined. I didn't stop pushing. It seemed futile, but oddly something inside me kept telling me there was more. I listened. I was frustrated. I'd get discouraged. Still I pushed on believing there was more and if I continued trying, I'd achieve it. Now, just like the deeper knowledge of color that opened my eyes a few years back, I feel equipped with a new understanding of grays. Yes, I said grays.

I know it sounds dumb. Insignificant grays are anything but insignificant...

Suddenly I'm exploring like a child let loose in a giant toy store! Seriously, it's that kind of excitement. There is more too. A renewed realization that we aren't just portraying an image, but painting poetry, a passion, a vision of more than just objects. Suddenly I'm finding my work moving forward. I'm thrilled I never stopped pushing. Though the lulls are discouraging, the triumphs are exhilarating enough to compensate. I just want to explode on canvas.

I feel equipped with new tools of understanding and my journey continues. I know these new tools will take me forward for awhile. Forward in improvement, I hope. But I also know that in time it will flatline again. It's the journey. If I'm to be all I can be in this line of work, I know I mustn't ever get too comfortable. Luckily, though frustrating at times, it's also the excitement that drives me ever forward.

Don't you just love knowing it'll always be exciting? There'll always be more to learn and develop.

Have you fallen into the formula trap? It can be a tough rut to climb out of. May the new year ahead jolt you enough to push you out of your comfort zone and propel you forward in your journey. Allow yourself to be renewed in that childlike excitement of discovery. Don't stop pushing yourself. The rewards will amaze you.

Posted is the finished Gardner's Home. It was painted with a class, drying completely between sessions. I may revisit this scene on my own when I can paint wet on wet. I'd be interested to see the different results. I posted this work in progress on Oct. 29. Oddly it was the post where I introduced Kevin Mizner to you. I'm just noticing that. I wonder if that means anything?

Ocean Roses

Ocean Roses

(in progress by Susan Roux)

This is an unfinished painting. I'm working on it with my beginner students. I wanted to give you a glimpse at the wonderful work they do. I hope to keep you posted at different intervals, to the completed painting. If my students allow, I'll post their finished paintings as well.

This is the work of my Tuesday night class. These students have painted only one painting, the beginner class this fall. A few students have ventured out to paint on their own at home, but for the most part, this is their second painting. My more advanced class thought I was brutal to give such a complicated scene to beginners. Honestly, I think they are doing marvelous with it so far.

Five students follow along as I explain colors, placement, composition and the "why" behind everything I have them do. We've worked on this for 3 sessions now, for a total of 6 hours. I've been so impressed with how well they've progressed. Each session, we cover more than I imagined we would.

Classes are fun and exciting. The jokes, laughs and giggles fly around the room continually keeping spirits light and playful. I think part of that "fun" shows up on our canvases. It affects the colors we choose and the relaxed brushstroke we use. The biggest challenge for me is to simplify everything so much that it can be understood and done even by a beginner. With each class I teach, the simplification gets easier.

We scribble paint. We scribble lots of paint! I get accused of being a very good scribbler, but you will be surprised to see their end products...

They scribble well too!

I am under the belief that anyone can do this. All that is needed is the desire. Perhaps they wouldn't all have the ability to become masters, but certainly enough to enjoy the process and be pleased with the end result. I'm very thankful for my students. They are a big part of my life and I look forward to their coming every week. Its been such a rewarding experience for me.

So my students, if you're reading, thank you...

Discovery

A Monet colored sky greeted us this morning.

It was so beautiful. If I hadn't had an appointment, I think I would have set my easel outside to capture it in all its glory. Who cares if there's snow...

If my students are reading, I hope you looked out the window and examined the range of colors. This photo doesn't do it justice, but the color changes from cerulean to ultramarine were clearly defined and separated by a band of clouds. It was a perfect lesson moment! I wished you were all here. What a perfect opportunity it would have been to analyze and discuss this together. The ideal visual to accompany my lesson.

I work hard with my beginner students to blend a range of colors for their skies. It usually involves a creamy start at the horizon and ranges through cerulean to ultramarine, perhaps with pinks or purples within the mix. We spend an entire class session blending this transition. I always wonder if they think I'm crazy making them work so hard to achieve this. Usually someone will come in at a later date telling of how they stared at the sky only to find all the colors I taught were actually there! I love this moment. Its comes with widest eyes and the look of surprise and wonder. (confirming they thought I was crazy, ...until now)

I know from this point on, they will never see the same again. A whole new world opens up and I get to enjoy their excited descriptions as they begin to view things with new eyes of a child. I love bringing this to people!

What a gift. What a gift to give. What a gift to receive!

It puts a huge smile across my face every time someone shares their enlightening moments of discovery with me. Many can't believe they've gone so far into their lives and missed all this before. I smile writing about it. I suppose its why I teach. It isn't simply the act of putting paint on canvas, but the whole package around this event. New channels open up in the brain. What was merely seen as objects before are now seen through a knowledge of color, which in turn, sparks emotion. I love the descriptions when a student stared at something for a long time trying to decide what colors they might mix to capture what they're finally observing.

Many comments of puzzled, non-understanding spouses arrive as well. Harken non-creative people. We're not crazy. We're just seeing things you haven't observed yet...

I hope your day is filled with surprising color!