Who was painting?

Beach Blanket

Original oil painting  18x24"

by Susan Roux

Its the end of the day. The tide is coming in. Time to fold the beach blanket. You're relaxed and comfortable. The sun was warm and you enjoyed nice conversation. You know it's time to go home, but you hate to leave.

These are the thoughts that went through my head as I painted this. 

Outside my window, fall is in the air and just as the day at the beach ends for these two friends, our time to lounge at the beach ends too. The crisp warm tones of autumn, color our trees. Somehow they penetrated my window and found their way onto my canvas. From the very beginning this painting had a mind of it's own.

Do you ever experience that?

I have. Remember the thrashing Scarlet gave me? It took me at least two posts to get her out of my system! I know now that when this happens, it's best to let the canvas lead, then to try and fight it out. In the end, the canvas wins anyway. So as the fall tones spread themselves atop my canvas, I just let it happen and waited to see where it took me.

It's a bit like taking a vacation without a predetermined plan. You may have booked lodging somewhere but the day to day activities are left wide open. The vacation itself is a surprise that unfolds minute to minute. Impulse, people you meet or a sight you drive by can all become influences that carve out your day. Well when you allow a painting to take over, it's very similar.

Each color, each stroke seems predetermined by the previous one. Step by step, minute by minute you watch as it unveils itself to you. At some point during the process of this surrender, you begin to form a new image in your mind as to where the outcome is leading. The canvas steps back a bit. You find you've returned to the driver's seat. Here before you on the easel sits a nearly completed painting. Your brushes are in hand. The palette is filled with mixtures that actually seem foreign to you. It's almost as though you've just stepped out of a trance. Maybe you have. Perhaps it was your muse who took control. You're not sure. But now you find yourself at the helm and it's completely clear that you must make the decisions from this point on to complete the painting.

It's a ride. It can get your adrenaline going. It can send your mind in a tailspin. It can leave you fearful of finishing. It's almost like waking up and someone has painted your canvas for you. How will you possibly complete it? This is not the same as a painting that seems to paint itself. No, those go on like silk. Not a care in the world and everything just falls right into place. 

No. This ride I'm talking about is quite different. 

It's more like someone with better ability has painted most of the canvas and now there you stand with the brushes in your hand needing to finish.

Yeah... This painting was like that.

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.

Slowing down

Slowing Down

by Susan Roux

Original oil painting 18x24"

Sticking with yesterday's "warm thoughts" theme, I've decided to post a painting I did last year. I had such fun working layer upon layer of colorful transparent washes. Eventually the shallow water began to looked wet. The photo doesn't do it justice. This painting and the application of color is what led to my current series of "children at the beach".

I painted this during one of my classes. My students had chosen different poses from this same photo shoot and so we all had similar light and colors in our water. Class meets once a week and my painting dried completely between layers. I was fascinated how continued applications of washes reacted with the layers beneath. I remember working several weeks in this thin state.

The composition was interesting. I liked the way the water twisted and turned as it led to the figure. The title came easy. My method of painting was slowed. The pose was calm and restful. It reminded me how people come to the beach on vacation and leave their troubles behind. The sounds, the smells, everything about the beach contributes to a relaxed restful state. The crashing waves, one after another, become hypnotic. The sun heats our bodies and eventually we begin to relax. The world slows down. We slow down. I chose this pose because it captured this idea so well.

Slowing down...

Isn't it what we all want to do when life gets too hectic? I hope you're taking time to slow down. Its when the importance of little things comes to light. When we learn to appreciate simple pleasures. The mind clears out the chaos and focus follows. The ability to focus on one single element, like a breaking wave, with nothing else in the way. Its so restful.

Please don't feel guilty for slowing down. Its ok to rest. Its ok to stop once in awhile. Clarity will happen and you'll wind up accomplishing more in the end.

I wish you a restful day.

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)