The Birth of a Painting

In case you missed it from my last post, we're expecting baby girl in 8(ish) weeks. With pregnancy and delivery on my mind, I've noticed the many similarities with stages of when I make a painting. Neither are spontaneously produced on a whim!

Preparation takes longer than the final step.

Learning is a long step that never ends.

And there are disappointing days in between when everything goes wrong and it feels like "dark night of the soul" (see graph at the end of this post).

Experiencing the steps of either (art/pregnancy) can be challenging. I finally have a much higher base level of admiration for ALL moms.

The stages of how my paintings are born, by trimester:

Beginning

• Think of an idea or theme, often related to a recent experience or ongoing interest.

1st

• Sketch something and hope that it will make it through the next stages.

2nd

• Research for contextual reference materials: writing, history, photographs of locations, etc. If you haven't already, definitely watch the movie Silence by Martin Scorsese. 
• Research for stylistic reference materials: other artists' work to see drapery on clothes, landscape paintings, etc. (a few pages from a book on Kawanabe Kyosai below)
• Practice necessary sections many times - people, drapery, brushstrokes. 

3rd

• Prepare materials: paper and ink.
• Paint with ink and washes.
• Prepare more materials: colors.
• Add color.

A small part of my gathered mess waiting to be cleaned

End

• Let it sit for a day. If needed, revisit #6-9.
• Add my name as a sign of approval (though often with a disappointed sigh).
• Clean up the mess.
• Photograph.
• Edit photograph to make sure colors match the original.
• Post it online. 

If it's signed, that means I've accepted that it's the best I could do now.

There it is - a glimpse into my mind and process of the life of a painting from conception to birth. Then what do I do? I repeat it all over again and again because there's much more to be said.

In broader terms, this cycle is summarized perfectly in Austin Kleon's book Steal Like an Artist:

Lastly, for more on the artist Kawanabe Kyosai whose work is pictured in the book above, this is a nice summary of his work from the site Spoon & Tamago. I subscribe to their (not-too-frequent) newsletter that covers "Japanese design from fine art and architecture to product and graphic design" in a very clear and succinct way. I highly recommend the newsletter - or just browse the site for your viewing pleasure!

Next up on my journal: the story behind this painting.

Eat, Pray, Paint

As long as I've known, art has been "shizen"—best translated as second nature—as natural as breathing. The tool, be it a paintbrush, pencil, or charcoal stick, feels like an extension of my hand.  Much like my hand, I can't necessarily make it do everything I want it to do. I'll never hold a basketball from the side or the top because my hand is too small. I can never open large jars because I can barely grip the lid with my fingertips. That's where community comes in (Page, who grips basketballs one-handed and opens all jars). There are certain limitations I have to struggle through in art life, and community is crucial to work through them. 

I just made it through my funk, the deep valley period of the middle of a painting. It's that point after the unlimited potential at the start, and before the completed work is visible...when every part seems incomplete and mediocre. Tears are shed, ice cream is eaten, and I keep painting. Now that I see the light at the end of the tunnel, I've emerged and am once again excited to see the paintings and write about it. 

The community, mainly close friends and family, were helpful to keep at it during the frequent ice cream break phase. Some who know how shizen (natural) it is for me to paint ask about it. Their enthusiasm encourages me far more than I ever tell them. Pride can get in the way of sharing about what I love. "Once I make masterpieces, then I'll tell them...then I can justify it." To be honest, that will probably always be a struggle. For a type A person that likes to efficiently complete tasks, how can it be that what I love to do most is exceptionally inefficient?? The other day I spent two hours on a few shades of dark shadow lines...just lines... in two of the paintings. It's almost comical how different the two sides within me can be, yet it makes perfect sense when teaching art. Methodical + inefficient = a surprisingly successful pair.

Like looking forward to a good meal, I'm looking ahead at which evenings this week I might be able to paint. Well, more like looking forward to breakfast in 8 hours (yes, really, every day), I'm counting down to my next opportunity to paint as I continue this shizen cycle of eat, pray, paint. 

Speaking of eating, I can't help but include the incredible Japanese feast by my mom to celebrate my brother's new stage of life (MBA at Wharton) and an early Children's Day (we'll never grow out of it) on Sunday. My tiny contribution was a veggie dish and salad...I suppose we all start somewhere. I'm still daydreaming about the meal.  This doesn't even include the dessert spread! 

Plate #1 of 2  

{Making Monday} Creativity Without a Brush

After a few years of painting here and there, I started painting again most regularly in 2015. I had lofty plans to complete several paintings by this time in 2016, but this year has felt extra busy...and they still are in pencil-only form without a single splotch of paint on them. My creativity has been channeled in other ways out of necessity, but it's enjoyable nonetheless. For example, my most recent project was a bridal shower and bachelorette. These are part of the decorations I made for the shower.

It was a Pinterest idea on the bride's wedding board (for seating chart placecards ). Though I give credit to Pinterest, it was NOT a "best chicken in 15 minutes" (which is never the best), nor "easiest chocolate cake ever" (that takes 2 hours + cleanup). It actually was REALLY simple. I can't take credit for the idea but it was fun to do something with paint that didn't involve careful detail. It's also great for when you have colors for an event/party that may be hard to find...unless you want to drop $200 at Paper Source for the right hue of chartreuse green. 

The process was delightfully simple.

Here are the steps: 

1. Cut the paper to desired size.
2. Mix the color and water in a plate. (I mixed a few watercolors to get the right shade)
3. Dip edge of paper in different angles to get a jagged colored edge. Let it dry.
4. Repeat 2 more times, each time dipping a little less of the paper in so you get that 3-tiered effect. 
5. Write with a calligraphy pen. (I typed it on Microsoft word first to look at and then loosely followed that font.)

two ways to avoid the handwritten part:

1. Make it a shared project: do steps 1-4 and pass off step 5 to a friend with good penmanship. 
2. It's the 21st century and printers work wonders. Find a cute font, type it and print it on card stock, and then do steps 1-4.

It was a tea party theme (I'm sure that's obvious by now) so the favors were lavender earl grey cookies & tea. I added some lemon extract in the batter to freshen up the heavier flavor of lavender and earl grey. The center sign was on the door to welcome guests. The pen on the right is my favorite for cheater calligraphy style writing!

24/50: How about a pigeon?

My sister who lives in London told me about a Chinatown scandal in which a restaurant in London Chinatown was serving pigeon. Not the farmed kind for eating. I mean, free range and local-- rooftop local!

I suppose they were calling it "squab"-- a delicacy. Not just pigeon.

Street pigeons would never make it on my plate (by choice), much less my "want to draw" list. On a practical level, they're fidgety and hard to draw. But beyond that, I don't like the way they look or function so they're not worthy of study.

If I dig a little deeper: I don't consider their Maker.

But this guy did, and that left an impression on me. I took a photo of him when I saw this scene in Nagasaki, Japan. Is this elderly Japanese man thinking, "God created this creature so I should study it?" Statistically based on the religious environment in Japan, I doubt it.

There's a lot God can teach us through people-- through those who may point out things that are usually ignored. Maybe through artists who have "weird" perspectives.

So, how about a pigeon? Perhaps not for dinner at a restaurant in Chinatown in London. But maybe to draw, maybe to point me to their Maker. 

"Worthy are you, our Lord and our God, to receive glory and honor and power; for you created all things, and because of your will they existed, and were created." Revelation 4:11

If creation in general isn't enough of a link to the Creator, here's a bonus fact: 

Pigeons are in the same family as doves. 

As I continue with this painting, it'll remind me of seeing things as made-by-God, not based on my judgment of if it's worthy of attention or not. 

"You are the Lord, you alone. You have made heaven, the heaven of heavens, with all their host, the earth and all that is on it, the seas and all that is in them; and you preserve all of them; and the host of heaven worships you." Nehemiah 9:6

Progress on this painting to come (once I actually make that progress).