Garden Greens

Hello, everyone.  Thanks so much for your continued interest in this blog.  The hope is that through perusing this site that you will be reinvigorated to explore your own creativity with a new sense of freedom and passion. 

June is the perfect month to dive into new projects and to experience the exuberant profusion nature has produced.  This month I'm delighted to share with you a project that came about by being brave and from sharing with you a photo I took last month and shared with you on the blog.  I say "brave" because who would have thought that the subject of this photo would inspire a painting.

Yep, this is the photo that started it all.  I originally took this photo with the idea of sending it to my daughter, Madeline.  She maintains a portion of our back garden that she has turned into a veritable potager.  There isn't much space, but there is just enough to have a delightful vegetable patch.

Madeline is simply passionate about nature and loves to grow vegies and fruit.  So after I took this photo of chard that I had just picked from the patch, I was eager to show her my bounty.  As soon as she saw the photo, she loved it.  I can't speak for her as to why exactly, but she quickly asked me to transform this photo into a commissioned painting for her.  Of course, I was delighted, and the painting in this blog is the result of this adventure together.

“The smell of manure, of sun on foliage, of evaporating water, rose to my head; two steps farther,
and I could look down into the vegetable garden enclosed within its tall pale of
reeds - rich chocolate earth studded emerald green, frothed with the white of cauliflowers,
jeweled with the purple globes of eggplant and the scarlet wealth of tomatoes.”

— Doris Lessing

Every painting begins with a sketch.  I like to sketch directly onto the watercolor paper.  You will find many opinions in art as to how to do things.  There are artists who first sketch out an idea in a sketchbook and those who wouldn't think of starting a painting without creating a thumbnail sketch or a value sketch, etc.  

The rebel in me does things my own way, without apology.  I think it is important to always be yourself, regardless of the venture.  In starting a painting, I like to draw straight onto the paper.  That is not to say that sometimes I find myself in a situation where I can't visualize a painting and choose to use a sketchbook, or, if working with a client, create multiple sketches to work out an idea.  But if the idea is clearly in my head, off I go.

The sketch is worked out usually in 3B pencil onto Arches watercolor paper.  I usually use 140 lb cold press professional-quality paper.  I would encourage you to always use the professional grades of materials.  There are many reasons for that, but mainly it's because you will ultimately be more satisfied with the result:  pigments mix better with water, flow more freely, are more light-fast; quality paper absorbs water better, is acid-free, thereby supporting your masterpiece for a longer period, etc.

The next steps for the painting process are to take the sketch to the easel and tape it down.  There are those who are quite religious about stretching their paper before beginning the painting process, but I have found that with the quality of paper that I use and the size of paintings I create this isn't a necessary step.  The amount of buckling, which is the main reason for stretching, isn't sufficient enough of a nightmare to urge me to stretch the paper.

In this photo, you can see that I've placed the sketch on the paper and affixed it with good-ole DIY masking tape.  Before doing that, I've applied some masking fluid to maintain the bits and bobs of white that I need to stay white.  The next step is to create the first overall wash.

Here you can see that the first wash has been completed and the masking fluid has been removed.  The paint must then dry totally before applying the next wash.  A painting, for me, usually has about three different overall washes with details saved for the final steps of a painting.

In this photo, you can see that the painting has proceeded quite a ways.  The second wash have been applied, and the whites of the chard have been muted.  If you look closely, though, you will notice that the basket has gone really wild.

I tend to be an exuberant painter.  I love to explore color variations and tones.  I also have always found it difficult to paint within lines.  It is the freedom of the splash and dash and the excitement of the unexpected that keeps me coming back to the easel.

Unfortunately, with this personality of mine, it means that often mistakes are made that need correcting.  That's okay with me, as the beauty of the unexpected far outweighs the tedium of fixing the odd mistake.  So, in this case, the basket had to be redrawn and repainted.

So what is so special about this painting.  Besides the bounty of Mady's garden, the composition is rife with much more meaning to her and to me.  The setting for the painting is, of course, our home kitchen.  

It is the elements within the photo that have meaning to us and draw at our heartstrings.  The 50-plus-year-old Kitchen Aid mixer is a family heirloom.  It was in this mixer that my mother created the bread of my childhood.  The buzzing of the engine gets the salivary glands working.

In the background, if you look closely, you will see a blue bottle.  That bottle is symbolic of a chapter in our lives in which the love and generosity of friends supported us in immeasurable ways.  One of the highlights of that chapter culminated in a wedding at the home in which we were living.  That bottle is a souvenir of that precious memory.

The basket in which the lovely chard is resting, to me brings back memories of my children, when they were young, and the efforts we made to bring beauty and organization into our lives.  We were living in a very small space, and baskets were my go-to helpers to tidy our unruly lives in our desperately small cottage.  The end result was a bond with baskets that is now sustaining the next generation in their endeavors.

If you look closely, you will see a sliver of white at the very front of the painting.  To the casual observer, that sliver would be meaningless.  But to me, that sliver is full of love and meaning.  That sliver is a cutting board that my youngest child, Sebastian, gave to me as a Christmas gift.  The fact that it made its way into the painting brings warmth to my soul, as it enriches my visual memory of his generosity and love.

I could go on, but I think you've gotten the idea that the painting is full of lovely memories for me and for Madeline.  Recently, when discussing art subjects with someone, they were surprised at my choices for paintings.  Paintings are supposed to be of special buildings or vistas or tourist spots, are they not, was the suggestion.  

You are free to paint whatever you want to paint.  There are no rules.  If you find some, then I would surmise that you have stumbled down the path of a person who has a good opinion of their own ideas.  You decide what brings you joy and what will bring joy to your own personal audience.

This is the final version of the painting before any cropping has been done.  As you can see, the basket has been repainted and the final washes and details have been applied.  I hope that you have enjoyed reading about the process of painting with me.

Please be sure to leave a comment.  It's an easy thing to do.  Just go to the comment section, type in your comment.  Click post comment.  Type in your name.  Then skip down to the area where it says sign in as a guest, click and go.  I'm sorry that it has been difficult for some to figure out the process, but I thank those of you who have persisted.  It is greatly appreciated.