Living with art

Ava in the Garden

Original oil painting  18x14"

by Susan Roux

What is the value of your art?

I don't mean the retail cost of it. No, not at all. I'm talking about how much it's valued by it's owner.

I was talking to my dear artist friend, Svetlana Beattie. I'd like to share with you the story she told me about a particular painting she'd done.

The lady who purchased her painting had become a close friend. She was a gardner among other things and invited Svetlana to come paint in the garden anytime she wished. It became the artist's point of inspiration for a great number of beautiful works. The relationship between the two grew, one loving the garden the other loving the painter's interpretation.

Two artists in their own right, not only appreciating each others creations, but finding stimulation to enhance their work by seeing it through the other's eyes.

The artist came frequently to paint directly in the garden. So often really, that she had almost become a moving sculpture in the landscape. The gardner had trouble seeing the artist's works leave her property. After all, they were an exquisite emotional response to her flowers and landscape. As it turned out, she would purchase many of them directly upon their completion. It was a very good relationship for both.

The artist had an exhibition and because many of her works were never shown in public, due to the gardner buying them instantly, the artists asked permission to show one of the paintings. At first the gardner didn't want to agree to it, but after some reflection and hard coaxing by the artist, she finally agreed to let it be shown.

Two short days after letting her painting go, the gardner came to the artist begging for her painting back. I can't stand it anymore! This big empty wall. I knew I loved your painting, but I never realized just how much it means to me. Every time I glanced over the painting soothed me, relaxed me. Now that it's missing I feel anxious and irritable. I need my painting back, right away!

It was emotional.

When you begin to live with a piece of original art, it may come as a surprise to the buyer, but you'll be affected by it in many ways. Much like a wine continues to grow and change in the bottle, a painting also has a life all it's own. The artist has projected their soul into it. It is impossible to separate the two. The deeper you look into a piece of art, the more you see and feel the artist.

Light changes in the household and each time, the painting changes as well. This is not a quality saved exclusively for Kinkade's work, though he would have liked to make people think so. Oil paintings change with varied light. It's part of the living quality it possesses.

These things, the soul of the artist, the light changing the painting, speak to the buyer. Living with art improves quality of life. It does exude healing properties. It can relax, de-stress and sooth... A buyer falls in love with the painting and each time he/she views it, it's comparable to viewing one's love. Just as your love can grow for your partner, so it can grow for your art.

The emotional attachment is real.


Now artist, go pour yourselves out on canvas! You never know how much it will inspire or affect someone else, so do your best and make it count. Art is a window into your soul. Put all your passion into it and it will reflect back.

Is it just Spring?

Jardin d'Amour

Original oil painting  18x24"

by Susan Roux

Perhaps it's spring, but I feel something trying to sprout in my work. It's similar to hitting a wall and coming around the other side with added knowledge or clarity about something. Only there's no wall. I feel myself bubbling almost percolating inside. (and no, it isn't anything intestinal... I knew what you were thinking) It's like an excited child in there, full of energy. I want to paint all the time. It feels like a painting high and it's pouring out from my creative side.

Did you read Keith Bonds article titled Recuerdos de la Alhambra and your art?  It was a wonderful article about needing a balance between fundamentals and passion. It's what I talked about as my New Year's resolution goal.  It all comes down to knowing the rules, yet still applying your own creative voice to it. I'm sure you've all seen art that is correct in defining its forms, yet is void of emotion. It usually leaves you feeling flat. Because the painting has no emotion, it gives you no emotional reaction. One of my students recently told me of a work of art she saw while on vacation. It brought her to tears. She found herself in a public place crying and a bit shocked about it. An embarrassing moment for her, but the ultimate compliment for the artist.

I believe this is what masterpieces are made of. Just the right balance of the two.

My crazy emotional side is rallying for attention! I must have spent too much time focused on my fundamentals and it got a bit jealous. Hopefully all that time spent on them translates into some of my natural instincts now. (I can wish, can't I?) Anyways, I'm not questioning it at the moment. Exploding on canvas these days is too much fun. I just want to ride the wave!

Oh yes, there's been experimenting in the process.

I'm working the brush in ways I've never used it before. Pushing instead of pulling. Push and twirl even! It's as though I'm fearless and trust my heart will pull me out of whatever jam I put myself into.

I'm watching and observing everything that's happening as I try new things. I didn't know you could teach your creative side, but it seems to be what I'm experiencing. It's elating!

Flowers seem to be a good subject to experiment in. They can be so forgiving, bouncy and happy. Not to mention a party of color!

I know everything I'm trying isn't perfect. But after all, isn't it what makes the whole journey worthwhile in the first place? 

I hope you're having fun experimenting too. It is spring you know, so allow something new and exciting to spring out of you! (I haven't used this many exclamation points since I was about thirteen. Can you tell I'm excited? I told you, just like a little kid inside me full of wonderful playful energy! I hope he sticks around for awhile...)

I also want to thank all of you for stopping by and commenting. It means so much to me and I rarely take time to let you know how special you are to me. So thanks for visiting, my friends!

Paint a story

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?

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?