Spinning Yarns With Paint

Driving past an old farm house, a painting takes seed in my head. I could simply go with the country scene laid out before me but the big old blue porch with it old wicker furniture is so inviting I begin to lay out a story to hold my interest. No novel, just a simple little tale of who may live there and how the porch plays in everyday life. The garden beds and the bumpy brick walkway add to the charm of the scene. My mind starts turning this porch into a scene for one of my fantasy paintings where I build upon a real place making it mine. While still in the country snapping pictures I invite a lovely young woman to play a part in my fantasy. She will be a tired gardener dreaming her own dreams. Driving back into town I see just the garden I want and snap a few pictures. 

Loading the new pictures of the porch and the garden over on Downer Place, into my computer I call upon Jordan to play the part of the tired gardener. I know just the photo I want of Jordan and set about looking for it. This is how I work when in the studio. Over the years I have built an extensive collection of photos to work from. I love working from life but for what I love doing I have to have references on hand. I cannot always count on models being available. When they are I have them over to the studio for a few days of work. Laying on the studio floor will come to be a painting of young lady laying in the cool grass under my apple tree. Bitter winds of winter may be just out my studio window but inside the model relaxes under my apple tree.  In this case I transport Jordan to the blue porch that is two counties over from my studio. Takes a bit of work to change the perspective and incorporate the garden into my world, but it's what I love doing. 

Annie, another of my models, I put into my dream living room with a cozy fire going in the fireplace. A bowl of popcorn handy and a good murder mystery, and Annie settles for the evening in my painting. Her nephew, Miles, joins her in the next painting. It's a bit of work getting them comfortable when they've never posed together before. Years of drawing from life lets me bring forth my dreams of life around me. Spinning yarns is what I do with paints.

A Simple Stick of Burnt Wood

I sketch my models all the time, mostly just for the fun of it. I love a good drawing of a nude, male or female, thin or plump, young or old - a good drawing is just a wonder to me. I'll take a good figure drawing or sketch over a photo every time. It's the lines, the smudges, the hand holding the charcoal or pencil shaking with passion and good old know-how that I love finding. Finding a drawing posted on Facebook is my way of starting the day and ending the evening. Nicholas Fechin is the master of the portrait for me and I love Philip Koch landscape sketches. There are a lot of great artists out there that excite me. 

Eddy Roos's charcoals are so loaded with passion for the human figure. I love his sculptures, but those drawing of his that line his studio, I could spend the day lost in those drawings. 

Sketching Jordan, or Kim, or any of my models I think of all the artists out there creating with just a simple stick of burnt wood. I pause for a moment then push myself forwards with my own drawing. Kim's strong hands and caves, Jordan's rib cage and pelvis demand my hand to follow my eyes every command. Somewhere in my brain I am converting the beauty I am seeing before me into a form of creation only conveyed through drawing. I find, with my own work, I miss what I feel while drawing when I put down the pencil for the brush. I sense a change in my feelings when I pick up the brush.

As of late I have dozed off for a split second while painting. Brush in hand and loaded with paint I wipe out an eye or a finger as I jet myself awake. With a pencil I am so into how I see and what I feel about Jordan. The adrenaline presses on my chest so hard I think my heart might stop. The muscles in my right arm are flexed to the limit. Cramps shoot through my fingers and lock my fingers into a contorted twisted form I both wish to draw and want them gone. I'm told soda water helps with this problem. 

Drawings I have done of Kim and Jordan and of Sylvia lead me into paintings, stories I dream up. The gardener resting after a battle of weeding. I search my drawings and photos for just the right pose and then dream up the scene I want to see my friends in. Sylvia, Annie, Adrienne who I've only met once, are the ladies I put into my dreams. They are weeding or reading with a cat on their lap dozing off into their own dream. I think most artists who look beyond the dark seductive eyes and red lips find a deeper more meaningful reason for lifting the brush and pencil. Sometime I find a more meaningful purpose to my art and sometimes it's just those dark eyes and red full lips. I think I going to give Kim a ring.