A Good Exhaustion

Moving to the Rhythm 

(panel 2)

Original oil painting  28x22"

by Susan Roux

You know those moments when you do exactly what you want to do, enjoy doing it and then feel completely drained afterwards? (no... I'm not talking about that!) Well this is how I would describe our weeklong artists retreat. Completely heavenly for lots of reasons only to return home to realize how exhausted you really are.

Prior to leaving, it's common to think of it as a vacation. A whole week with other artists. Nothing to do but paint and talk about art, eat great food, enjoy wine and champagne and sit in front of a crackling fire. What more could an artist want? It does sound like a perfect vacation.

But as it turns out, marathon painting is very draining.

Long hours in front of the easel, focused. I painted for hours at a time. The beautiful mansion we were in seemed to slip away. All that remained was my canvas, palette and reference. I was lost in colors, values and folds. Music played (yes it was Luka Bloom) and all the world faded away as time passed quickly, immersed in my work.

Stimulation was high. Each time I stopped, even for a moment, I looked out the window that illuminated my canvas. The white sunlit deck railing against the beautiful blue ocean reminded me of photos of Greece. I watched the tide come in and out of the cove. Reflections were amazing and countless birds danced and sang. The ocean was their stage and the show went on indefinitely. Each time I stopped painting, it almost caught me by surprise. How could this ever changing beautiful scene disappear when I worked?

But it did.

Interesting art conversations about every aspect of our craft, from first acknowledging you were an artist to marketing, gave a glimpse into each of our creative souls. Details of our journey, our hopes and our dreams. Our frustrations. It was all discussed. Encouraging words lifted spirits.

We continued to paint.

Champagne Thursday was well attended and such a delightful evening. The setting sun created an idyllic light for the art filled mansion. Thank you to everyone who came. The euphoria of the evening fueled us to continue painting for the remaining days.

Now I've returned to reality. All the household chores and stresses of life leap back upon me. The retreat was just that. A retreat from life. I'm exhausted, both mind and body, from the intensity of my focus. But I'm not complaining. It's definitely a Good Exhaustion.

Champagne Thursday info:

Monarda 

(detail of a work in progress)

by Susan Roux

As many of you already know, I'm getting prepared to leave for a week on an Artists Retreat. It'll be a mad week of marathon painting. We don't take phone calls. Laptops remain turned off in our bedrooms. Basically we leave all typical daily interruptions behind. The order of the day, every day, is to paint. After awhile with such intense focus, one becomes elevated to a form of a trance. It's like reaching that wonderful painting zone and remaining there full-time.

Oh, it's a wonderful feeling and I can't wait to get there.

Champagne Thursday is our only deviation, but oh what a night it is!

The roster of invites continues to grow. We may have gone a bit overboard this year, but who cares, it's just one night. I've been amazed at the confirmed list of guests. We have some wonderful prominent art figures planning to attend. If you're anywhere in the area, please don't hesitate to come join in the excitement!  A bottle of champagne and a nibbler is your only entrance fee. It's an instant party filled with stimulating art conversation among a multitude of fresh-off-the-easel art. Come tour this amazing mansion we spend the week in. You won't be disappointed you came!

CHAMPAGNE THURSDAY

February 23rd at 5:00 p.m. 

Last house on Shore Drive

Freeport, Maine

Entrance fee: Champagne and a nibbler

See you in just over a week!

The above painting is a close-up detail in an unfinished painting titled 

Monarda.

Trusting instincts

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?

Flirting with folds

"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.

Follow your passion

Orange Roses

Original oil painting 18x14"

by Susan Roux

I received these lovely roses from my dear Anastasia this weekend. What a beautiful surprise to see her and many others at the exhibition. If you're reading, thanks for coming...

I was up way before the crack of dawn yesterday, even with the time change. I'd been lying in bed painting in my mind. Does that happen to you? It seems lately I've been painting in my mind more than on canvas. Juggling life and your paintbrushes can often be challenging.

I decided to make yesterday a painting day. I had a class to teach at night and aside from a few loads of laundry, I made a date with my easel. Sometimes I just have to overlook everything that needs to be done around here and allow myself painting time. So from the early hour, I was perusing my extensive photo library in search of a picture I could be passionate about. I was tossing a variety into a new folder as a means of narrowing my choices down. There were lots to choose from and the folder was filling quickly.

Daylight finally broke, so I went to this folder only to find my inspiration for any of my choices had fizzled. By now the house was up and I told Mike, what I should do is paint those roses. Why don't you?

Ever notice how we argue with ourselves?

Well... my excuses began, I never paint roses.

He knew that. Mike buys me flowers all the time and I watch the roses slowly droop and die off. I even keep them in the vase because I see beauty in the dead blossoms. Sometimes he buys me more just so I'll finally throw away the crispy ones... How many times has he heard me say, I should paint the roses?

Beautiful as they are, they're in a constant state of change. At first opening, then sagging and slowly fading. I've never had a day observing them without change. The thought of painting them was a bit terrifying. There are people like Nora who paint them so well and honestly I hadn't a clue how to begin. But there they were staring me in the face and my most stimulating inspiration at the moment.

As you can clearly see, I attempted it. It turned out to be lots of fun and not the nightmare I expected. I stopped thinking about them as roses and not knowing how to paint roses. Instead I focused on how wonderful they made me feel and that feeling is what I painted. It didn't take long that I practically stopped looking at the real roses, so if they were changing, it wasn't an issue.

I even brought it to completion and began another painting all before my class arrived. Then I painted again with them. I was on a roll. Sure hope it lasts...

Go paint what you're inspired to paint. Even if you don't think there exists a buyer out there for what you're painting, or if you don't think you have a clue how to do it. Its the passion that counts. Paint what you're passionate about and you'll be the most successful with that subject.

If only I'd remember my own advice...

Brewing

Work in progress 20x16"

by Susan Roux

I don't know why it is, but when things start brewing, I get excited.

I'm not talking about a good cup of tea here or conjuring up a witches brew. I'm talking about ideas. Possibilities. And not bad one's as brewing might imply...

One simple comment left on a blog.

That's how it all started. A stranger's blog. Someone I just recently found and followed. Don't you just love surprises? I do. From this comment came an email. It was a simple inquiry about weather and proper dress for October in Maine. I must say the reply was not as simple as the question. At this time of year, Maine can fluctuate 50 degrees from morning to noon! But don't let that scare you, its beautiful here.

The stranger is Karl Terry. He lives in the UK. Yes, he's coming to Maine. Coming with a large group of artist to paint the coast. I believe the rest of his posse lives in the US. Presently Karl and I are making plans to meet. I hope to travel to their location and set up my easel, to capture the coastline with my new acquaintance.

What is it about meeting foreign artists that excites me so? Maybe its a glimpse into a whole new way of looking at things. It can vary a lot with each culture. Last fall when Mike and I traveled to Ireland, I spent lots of time contacting artists there, long before we left. By the time our trip began, I made connections to meet with four different artists. Two I visited in their home studios and two I painted with. It was amazing.

So perhaps this anticipation brewing at present is kindled by stirred up memories. Nonetheless, I'm certain the encounter will be exciting and stimulating. Plus, who doesn't like an english accent?

Posted is my second attempt at Lisa. She's given me quite a challenge this time around. I hope to get back to her today and complete it. Then I'll post the two versions for you to see together...

Been outdoors...

I've been gardening.

Its one of my other great pleasures. I know I've mentioned that before...

Perennials are my favorites. From bulbs to plants, they begin their colorful show just as the snow melts. Unlike annuals that require warm temperatures, many perennials can tolerate Maine conditions. Yeah! Its only the beginning of May and I have color throughout my yard. We had a mild, early-ending winter and plants are eager to burst into bloom well before their usual debut. Tulips are still blooming and typical June flowers have large buds ready to pop!

I can't stop myself from going outside.

Everything has come early. The leaves, the grass, the birds, the warm temperatures and yes, even the bugs!

There are plants like Russian Sage and Lavender that I've wanted in my garden for awhile now. Size is a factor. I have little room left for such large plants. My solution has been to make a new garden. So lately I've been removing grass and adding compost to create a bed for these desired "purple" beauties.

I must say, we use different muscles doing this work than when we paint...

My body screams at me in the morning, but it isn't enough to stop me. My love for nature and color extends pass the easel. For me, imagining which flowers will bloom together and placing them so the colors and size will compliment each other is very similar to painting. The biggest difference being that I have to wait to see the results. Little green tufts, that will later bloom in color, or tiny bulbs are like my paints. Place each at a special spot and the result will be beautiful. My imagination peeks and I'm swept away with this more physical type of creation.

The work is plentiful in the spring. Its easiest to move plants around at this time. Spring rains and the lack of scorching temperatures help ease the transplants into their new locations. Every year the show, the completed canvas, is different. Soon my heavy work will be done. The remainder of the season is devoted to enjoying the creation in its constant performance. As one color fades a new one replaces it, like an ongoing dance titillating the eyes.

Later I will bring my easel outside. Somedays I'll paint the floral display. Other times I will paint, like in the studio, but in the beauty of my gardens. I paint best when I'm happy and at peace. In the midst of my flower dance, my creative spirit easily takes flight. All the work I do now is in anticipation of the display later.

Luka Bloom, you know the Irish singer I like so much.., spoke about writing songs. For this creative portion of his work, he requires quiet times of peace and reflection. Its when you can really hear your inner-self, your spirit speak. I feel the same about painting. There are days when its better for me to stop, relax and listen. Haste doesn't benefit my results. To paint nature, its essential that I take time reflecting in it. Quiet time.

So don't worry that I'm not painting. Soon I will be and this quiet, yet physical time, will add to my creative spirit. The more I absorb in, the more I will have to release out!

Don't spend all your time hurrying through life. Make sure you allow yourself quiet times of reflection. They're essential, for many reasons. Just like the buds on my plants ready to explode into blossoms, you will find your creativity ready to explode on canvas!

Marvelous things can happen...

Rose Cottage

Rose Cottage

Work in progress 18x24"

by Susan Roux

I haven't had much time to paint lately. I seem to be spread out thin, unlike my figure... I didn't intend to paint yesterday, but after coffee and viewing all your lovely artwork, I couldn't resist going to play in front of my easel.

This painting was inspired by several photographs I took of this darling little house. I was so captured by the yard. I remember driving by and then stopping and backing up to photograph it. It was wild and untrimmed. Flowers meandered everywhere. When I began I intended to put more of them in, but the painting lead me in this direction. I let it. I was having so much fun painting it, that I figured another or maybe a series of others could be painted with different flowers portrayed.

Its a very strange thing. The whole time I painted, the colors looks so juicy. It had rich vegetation that lead you to the soft corner of the house. The focal point was clearly the white rose bush. But after I took the painting out of my studio, it seemed to transform totally. How upsetting!

The white rose bush is no longer the focal point. It almost hides! The front darks look dull and the lovely little highlighted dots of color that lead you in are practically invisible. What I thought was a killer painting in my studio turned out to be a real blah.

I know my art photographs terribly. The camera has no clue what to do with all my transparent colors. I think I have the worse art to photograph there is. Not only are colors omitted totally as in everyone else's art, but darks read as lights many times as well, causing strange blotches everywhere! I have works I try to post, but don't. The photos turn the paintings into terrible images that barley resemble the actual art.

But this is not totally the case today. I was so deflated with the transformation my painting took. Was I so wrapped up in the emotion of the work, that I didn't see it properly? Was it the angle I was standing at (slightly to the left) that made the colors look one way? Perhaps my roof windows were casting a completely different light? Do I need to have my eyes checked?

I wish I knew.

Stuck in my head, is the image of what I thought I painted. Believe me, it was very lovely! I was so excited about my day's work. Now I want to try and bring it closer to my imagined vision, but I fear losing the freshness. Isn't painting hard? I really thought it was all falling into place so perfectly. I let the painting direct me. I was so involved with it, in total concentration and responding directly to each stroke I had just applied. Frankly I was in a wonderful happy place at the time. Such a let down to see what I actually did...

An so I label it work in progress, though I'm not certain how to begin to approach it. It was so soft and dreamy, all about the vegetation with a hint of a house in the background.... I may need to do a series just to try and capture what I thought I already had. Has this ever happened to any of you? Its caught me completely by surprise! I don't think I've ever experienced this before...

Its almost like I was seeing things. Honestly, I'm quite baffled by it all.

I hope your day brings about happy painting and the results are what you thought you were looking at. Its quite troubling when its not.

Dabble color

Work in progress

By Susan Roux

I spent yesterday in my studio. I was overdue. All my "children at the beach" were dry and waiting to be dabbled on some more.

Dabble I did.

I so love these beginning stages when I can be completely free with color. I posted yesterday morning that I wanted to explore color and I did just that. It felt good to let delicious colors lead me. The house was empty and with Luka plugged into my ears, I let go. Singing and dancing (mostly swaying) in front of my easel, my brush was in control.

Isn't it fun when everything just flows?

The paint. Your creative energy. Your spirit. Its almost as though someone else took control and painted for you. When the sun comes up this morning, I look forward to returning to my studio and "explore" what happened on my four canvases yesterday. So much is a spontaneous response to the stroke before that it all happens so quickly. No time to think. Simply react. As the paintings dry enough to be worked on again, there'll be plenty of time to reflect on the direction I want to take them in.

This painting is currently untitled. I hope something comes to mind before its done. Most titles announce themselves during the process, but there are always those pesky ones that don't. I'm fearing this will be one of those... You know, the "hard" to title. Bulldozer comes to mind, but is completely unfitting to a dainty little girl in a pink ruffled bathing suit...

Suggestions are appreciated.

This particular painting has me a bit nervous. With the child stretched on all fours, she covers far less canvas than all my others in this series. Even with her reflection, she is but a dab in the distance. It'll be interesting to see how it evolves...

If you didn't have time to "explore" something yesterday, I hope you do it today. Its refreshing and will put a smile on your face.

Happy exploration!

Finding clarity

Nothing like a date with your easel to clear the mind and weed out the cobwebs. Yesterday I finally took time to paint...

I've been working on a series of children at the beach, like the pictured "Child's Play". I'm having so much fun with color in these. Just as the child is running to play in the ocean, I'm running wild on my canvas splashing and dripping paint in every color my brush decides to go play in. My underpainting for these interpretations of blissful innocence are as spontaneous as the subjects themselves.

It began as an experiment. I had just purchased five slender canvases, expecting to use them in panoramic form as that suits a landscape artist just fine, when I saw a painting online with a child reflecting in thin, beach water. It was painted on a slender canvas and something about that composition grabbed me. It was September, just passed the prime for swimming in the ocean in Maine. (Not that swimming here is ever really warm... We prefer to call it "refreshing".) The day was warm, so with camera in hand, I drove to the beach in hopes of finding a few lingering beach goers.

It turned out to be perfect. Not too many people to crowd the photos and disrupt the reflections. The water was surprisingly warm so people weren't shying from it. Like this child, many wore summer clothing rather than swimsuits. For the artist, sun-drenched, blowing clothing is a gift. My photo shoot was very successful!

I've finished three of these and have three others in progress. Capturing the unintimidated movements of the children feeling "set free" at the ocean is giving me great pleasure. In the pleasure I'm finding clarity. For that I am grateful. If the holidays have you feeling tired and warn, I suggest you take time to go play with whatever it is you like. Letting go of stress and feeling your spirit bubble out with playful excitement will do you worlds of good.

Have a safe and happy New Year's Eve everyone. I wish you all playful excitement in finding your own clarity.

Thanks for reading...