Chicken Coop

What's your studio like?

A place in the basement? A spare room in the house? The kitchen table? A shed out on the lawn? How about a converted chicken coop?

I met Kevin Mizner at my last workshop and that's exactly what he has. A chicken coop studio! I couldn't imagine it. How must it smell in an old chicken coop? Lots of silly phrases followed that I can't really post here, but suffice it to say, we went from giggles to hysterics over our creative comments. One led to another as we built upon the previous absurdity. All I can tell you is when a painting goes south, he simply says he laid an egg. You'll have to imagine the rest...

His town is conveniently located between my house and where Nora Kasten was staying. Yesterday we all met there for a studio visit and painting session. The chicken coop made a great studio! It smelled of fresh cut pine from all the new boards he lined the ceiling and walls with. Kevin showed me pictures of how it looked a year ago when he first bought the property. The low water-stained ceiling nearly grazed the top of his head. When he removed it, a wonderful open cathedral space was revealed. He kept a small section of ceiling, creating a storage loft above and a cozy easy-chair living space beneath. His dog Champ lays quietly on the scattered rugs. I don't have to tell you about studio pets. You already know about their loyal companionship.

Kevin gave us a tour through his beautiful historic farmhouse. His paintings hung in every room. One of my favorites was these boats. I loved the light he captured on this typical coastal scene. Mizner paints scenes of Maine, most of which are familiar nearby subjects.

There was ample room for us all. You can see my latest painting on the easel. Its still a work in progress, but is nearing completion. It was a very productive day.

Nora chose to sit, observe and talk with us. I love having conversations of art with various artists. Everyone has their own ideas and sharing our views is so stimulating. The energy floating around this chicken coop studio was wonderful. Nora don't be mad I posted your picture. You're beautiful, baby! Our time together has been so special. Safe travels as you go on your way...

Kevin thanks so much for letting us crash your chicken coop. ( I must stop or some of those silly phrases will just pop out!)

Restored

Rose Cottage

Original oil painting 18x24"

by Susan Roux

Did you really think I could stay out of this canvas for a whole day? I couldn't.

It took until mid afternoon before I dared return to it. Thank you for all your comments. You gave me courage to calm down and decipher what had gone wrong. I refused to believe my own excuses. "Too old, so I'm imagining things..." No, sorry I couldn't swallow that one.

Its in the mistakes that we learn.

Saturday I travel to Cape Cod to deliver my body of work for the summer at the Blue Heron Gallery. The owner, Roy and I have a great artist/gallery relationship. This winter he decided to hand pick the art for his gallery. Usually we bring him what we want, but he's in hopes that this might help sales in a tough economy. So all winter, when I finished a painting, I send it along to him. And so it was with Rose Cottage...

I was so excited painting it, as you have read in yesterday post. I took my camera to my studio and photographed it before taking it off the easel. I ran upstairs to my computer, downloaded the image and immediately sent it to Roy, stating that the painting, "looks much better in person". After sending it, I turned to view my painting. This is when I realized the dilemma I wrote about yesterday. Everything looked different and the painting seemed ruined!

On no! And here I had just sent it to Roy.

No problem. I deliver in a few days and it always takes Roy a week and a half to respond to my emails. He won't have even seen it...

Wrong.

Yesterday morning as I turned on my computer to write my devastating artistic breakdown post, there sat a reply from Roy. "Yes, definitely bring it to the gallery!"

So as you see, yesterday I was dealing with my own breakdown along with feeling the pressure to revive it to gallery standards. Let me tell you, my head spun around for awhile. Calming down finally helped. What went wrong? I was still trying to figure it out. I know I didn't imagine what I saw. It was there. But what happened to lose it?

Suddenly I remembered adjusting my yellows just before finishing. Cool lemon yellows in my dark areas were competing for attention. I decided to calm them with cadmium yellow. It worked like magic. They calmed and brightened at the same time. I proceeded to calm several spots of lemon yellow. Oddly in my head, I remember thinking my light is all cool, adding warm cannot be right. But visually it had given a better transition out of the darkness, so I never questioned it further.

Could adding cool lemon yellow back to these passages make the difference?

It did. Suddenly the depth in my trees/vegetation returned. With the warm yellow beneath, the transition out of the dark patches wasn't as stark as before. Such a simple fix... I realized I had warmed most of my little dots of light leading the viewer in, causing those to also disappear. So a few more cool highlights and presto they returned!

A bit more adjusting here and there and what I saw in my head, was once again before my eyes. During my class last night, I kept analyzing it further, dabbing a dot or two until I felt it was tweaked to my satisfaction.

I think the feeling of restoring it back to its original feeling was more rewarding than having it all fall into place immediately. Trusting that my instincts and knowledge are enough to pull me through my mistakes is restored. Faith that the light in my studio is still safe for painting is also calming...

I couldn't sleep last night. I wanted to get out of bed and go paint all night. But my days are too busy and I knew sleep was necessary, so I held myself back. Funny how a failed painting can knock your energy but success bubbles it nearly out of control!

I hope you trust in your instincts. Its what makes us so creative. When it all falls apart, its where we have to look for answers. That and blogging...

Thanks for being so supportive.

Evolving layers

work in progress

by Susan Roux

Playing with layers. Oh I"m definitely having fun!

I returned to this little girl recently and am glad I photographed her before beginning. I was surprised at the change that took place. You know how I love surprises, so seeing her evolve with such color change popped me with wonder and excitement.

I've been staring at this canvas hanging on my studio wall for better than a month now. She was dry a long time ago and I could have returned to her much sooner. All this time she's been the bright "hot spot" in the studio. So many fiery colors...

She seemed to be sitting in a blazing sea. Lucky for her I put the fire out!

I kind of miss the orange in the studio, but I think the painting is evolving in a good direction. All that dripped color was not for nothing, however.

As you can see, those lovely brilliant shades are still visible. I remember now why I started so hot with this painting. The girls skin was very tan and I knew orange shades would eventually be added when I paint her. This way her surroundings will harmonize with her body.

This experiment with my children at the beach series has been very interesting. All the original dripped color is transparent. All the light colors added later are not. By leaving the underpainting exposed, not only is it creating color spots, its also adding shimmer to the water. Every spot of transparent versus non-transparent creates an unusual form of contrast. This contrast flickers, causing movement with changing light or as you merely walk by.

I think my favorite part though is all the color surprises it leaves behind. I teach that water is just broken color. I decided to push this to the greatest limit I could imagine, trusting it was correct. It is.

My paintings are quickly coming to the point where painting the girls is absolutely necessary. That brings closure to these little sweethearts. Afterwards, they'll be nearly complete. Its funny how you become more attached to a painting that has taken a long time to complete than to one that burst on the canvas quickly. Such patients is needed for the slow ones. It can be very frustrating stopping because colors want to get muddy or waiting for them to dry to be able to return.

I hope your keeping time to experiment. Its in experimenting that we discover and learn. Don't be afraid of color. It never bites. It just sings back to you. Play with it like my children at the beach are all playing. Just for fun!

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!

Treasure hunt

Combarro

Watercolor by Fernando Artal

I'm really enjoying blogging. Not only is there the fun of letting out some of the many things in my head, but there is the adventure, the scavenger hunt, of exploring all the wonderful things that you have put up to share. Wasted moments sitting at my computer have been transformed into explorations.

You stimulate me. You encourage me. You inspire me.

Somedays I find myself going to paint so I can have something to show you. I suspect the same is true for some of you as well. Especially those who've signed on as daily painters. Wow, its a huge commitment and I admire the dedication it takes to accomplish this. As someone who doesn't paint daily, much less finish a painting daily, you inspire me to go to my studio.

Yesterday I did just that.

My painting is well on it's way. In shades of yellow and blue my model dances at the beach. I'll share her later when she's done. This one is not a child.

...am I keeping you in suspense?

While breaking for tea, I visited your blogs. It helps to keep my painting energy at its peek, even in my down time. I came upon Fernando Artal's work. I was very taken by it and I wanted to share it with you. He is from Spain and his blog is in spanish. Fortunately for me, most of his posts are paintings, so the language is not a problem. He has 23 followers. I suspect many of you have not found him yet. Therefore, I've decided to share my treasure hunt find with you. His watercolors are unlike anything I've ever seen. I tried to leave a comment, but it malfunctioned. He doesn't know I'm posting about him...

I want to return to work on my beach dancer. I left her skin half finished yesterday and I really want to complete it with the same colors...

Thanks for keeping me stimulated on my down time. Keep creating, posting and blogging. We all benefit from each other!

John Morris

Meet Irish artist, John Morris.

(http://www.johnmorrisartist.com/)

I found John over the internet before going to Ireland. Of the many I contacted, he is one of a few that replied to my emails. Over the course of four months, our continued interactions brought us closer and by the time my vacation arrived, my husband and I were invited to come to his home.

My December post titled "Meeting the people" is a good introduction to this story.

Susan Roux and John Morris

I remember it like it was just yesterday. How excited I was when the day of our meeting finally came! We drove well out of our way to get to his home. The scenery was beautiful, but all I could think of was finally meeting John! Just thinking of coming into his home, visiting his studio, his art, his family, had my blood surging and tingling, it was hard to sit still.

The moment was finally here!

When we arrived in his town, he came to meet us. A quick exchange of location and car color over the phone and then Mike and I sat in the car waiting. Waiting and waiting and waiting... We waited perhaps less then five minutes, but it felt like half a day. I was like a child waiting for Christmas to arrive! John drove up beside our parked car. A quick wave and we were off following him to his home. This was really happening! I couldn't stop giggling and smiling.

I'm certain we were all a bit nervous, but in minutes a comfort fell over us like a warm blanket. It was as though we had been friends for years. Two artists, worlds apart, with so much in common. We entered through his studio. Art was everywhere. Don't you just love walking into someone else's studio?

There's so much to stimulate the eye!

We couldn't stop talking.

John showed me everything.

He showed me how he saves all his unused paint by putting it in empty tubes.

I didn't even know there was such a thing.

We exchanged art.

We discussed art.

We sat for tea in his beautiful home. His wonderful wife gave me a tour of their art-filled rooms and the outdoor garden. John's youngest sons were a bit shy. I'm sure they wondered what all the excitement was over some strange people coming from the USA. We came with gifts for them. A signed CD and T-shirts of Mike's son's group, Sparks the Rescue. That helped. When John's oldest son arrived, he was very interested in our visit. I could see a future businessman in the making. He stood erect with shoulders back, holding his head high as he spoke. You couldn't miss his air of confidence. How I wished I had been like that at his young age. Already, at 15, he'd begun a little business of selling chickens. This boy will go far...

The day passed too quickly. No one wanted to part. Hopefully someday John and his family will come visit us in Maine. I'm certain we will remain friends in contact for years to come.

I keep telling you to go meet strangers. I do. It's a wonderful experience...

(Photographs by Michael McAllister)

Purple teapot

Thanks for the interest in my teapot. Your comments are very uplifting. I began my blog hoping to inspire and uplift you, but here it is doing the old switch-e-roo. A pleasant surprise and I thank you.

I had no idea what I would write this morning but Jamie Haney's (http://artsyfartsyus.blogspot.com/) comment sparked me to continue to elaborate on my teapot. Isn't there always a story behind the objects we choose for our still life's? Funny how without thinking, we navigate towards those things that have special meaning to us. Jamie asked for a continuation of the teapot story. What will I do with the painting now? Hang it? Sell it? Cram it in the back of the studio somewhere???

The thing is, the continuing story behind the teapot is not after the painting, but before.

I bought this teapot when shopping with my middle son, Josh. It was so unusual to be out shopping with him. If you have boys, you'll understand. Or perhaps this unwilling to go shopping is just my boys... You see, I hate to shop. I know its probably wrong for a woman to feel like this, but I would prefer to be home painting. (Or anywhere painting...) But on this particular day, Josh and I were out shopping together and the chore became fun.

Josh was returning to college and needed cooking supplies for his new apartment. He loves to cook so really it was a lot of fun to get him supplied. We started at Marden's, a very inexpensive store that purchases close-outs. Its hit or miss, but a good place to begin. Our shopping cart was filled with everything from pots and pans to utensils to a large cutting board that resembled mine. Suddenly we noticed this teapot. I picked it up. I thought it was beautiful. The glossy pottery in rich deep hues with the swinging bamboo handle was so charming. The price was seven dollars. I opened it, examined it, caressed the smoothness with my hand and placed it back on the shelf.

Josh reacted abruptly. "Why are you putting it back on the shelf? You need to buy it!"

He was right. I had just redone my kitchen/dining room in Tuscany style and this purple teapot matched it perfectly. Yes believe it or not, I've painted part of my kitchen in this deep purple, but that's another story... The color purple is in fact a story in itself. (maybe a whole volume!!!)

The teapot has its permanent home, center stage on my room divider, just above my stove. I look at it all the time and remember that special day Josh and I went shopping together. I think of how, for a mere seven dollars, I would have lost this precious reminder had it not been for him urging me to buy something for myself.

The little purple bowl was a gift from my very special neighbor. That too is another story...

So to answer your question Jamie, yes the painting is for sale. All my paintings are for sale. I don't think I feel comfortable bringing it to my galleries, for it doesn't resemble any of my other work. Sad to say, but it might end up in the back of my studio...

Or perhaps it will be a gift to Josh someday.

Purple Teapot 12x16" original oil painting $500. + shipping unframed

Roof Windows

My studio has roof windows. What an awesome way to have light pouring into your work space! I was surprised how different the light was coming from above as opposed to vertical windows. Even when its raining, there's ample light to work from. They're quite amazing.

I really like my roof windows.

A multiple-day snow storm finally ended yesterday. We got about a foot of the heavy white stuff. Though beautiful and inspiring, it plays havoc with my "light from above". My studio doesn't become totally dark. Light still filters in through all that snow. But painting with natural light becomes impossible. So out I go to clear the snow...

Luckily my roof comes down low...

At the beginning of the season, it isn't a hard job to tackle. Some years the level of the snow is over the roof's edge and it becomes a different story. But no matter how difficult the snow removal job is I always go let my precious light in.

I can't quite reach the top ones, but get my wood stove cranking and the rest will slide off.

Today the light will be perfect for painting!

So if you find yourself with snow on your rooftop or cobwebs in your attic, don't let it block out your light. Always remember light from above is always the best light, so don't be afraid to let it in...

(Photographs by Michael McAllister)

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