Guess What I Found

  So, I'm cleaning up and sorting. Finding all sorts of things I haven't seen a very long time. I found some old art. Some of mine. Some a few choice pieces I have that others have created. In my first post on here, I told you that this painting was the first in the "deep shadow" style:

Which is right. Mostly. There was another I did a year or so before this one. It was a sunset over the water, framed by two curved palm trees. I spent over an  hour setting up that shot, and a few days painting it. I gave it to my then girlfriend's mother as a thank you for taking me with them to Disney World. I don't have a picture of that one, but I like to think it's still hanging somewhere and that I'll one day get a picture of it. But, I found this while digging through my archives:

It all came back to me. I was sharing an apartment with Mark Gonzalez, 1994/95. I was still recovering from the death of my best friend Ian. ( I'm sure he was murdered, not a suicide, but I can't prove it). I was drawing when I got home from work, which I mentioned in an earlier post ( along with a picture of the draped cloth I was using as a subject). I had some pastel paper that I had bought at Michaels. They were all going out of business and marking down their stuff 10% every week. I had purchased several colors, but I had a black one that I wanted to do something special with. I had an awesome mirror in my bedroom, so I propped my drawing board up and drew this self portrait. As I recall it only took fifteen minutes or so. I was happy with it. I'm still happy with it. It was way ahead of it's time. But....
   I found something else while I was cleaning out my little piece of heaven:

This little gem. I painted it in 1985. For my mother. For Christmas. It's not really black, it's a deep, dark purple. It might as well be black. Except I was in a "real artists don't use black" phase. Ten years before the one just above. A good fourteen years before "First Painting". I hadn't really thought about how long this idea germinated. Or how far ahead of myself I really was. Or where I'd be right now if I'd taken all this more seriously a whole lot sooner. Ah, well, regrets are the basis for great songs and great paintings.

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How Did I Get Here?

  That's been the theme in my studio today. Organizing my supplies has led me down memory lane these past few weeks. I found the pencil set I bought right before I left for Dallas and The Art Institute. In 1987. Thirty years ago. I've never used them. I bought them with that intention, but, for some reason, I've never taken them out of their shiny metal case. When I was in art school I barely had enough money for art supplies. Maybe that's why I've been stocking up on them ever since. Every sale, every coupon, every score at the thrift store. Unfortunately, poor organization has led to an odd assortment of art making material. Lots of black and white paint, but also lots of red. Perhaps it's my favorite color? Sharpies. Erasers. And paint brushes. Lots of paint brushes. Lots. Yet I still typically only use two. Until they're worn down and replaced by duplicates. But, I have all the others, just in case. From 0000 brushes to six inch brushes. Watercolor. Hake. Acrylic/Oil. Makeup (they're great for blending pastels). Lots of backups of my painting pictures from 2001-2007. I'm gonna set aside some time to go through and look for lost paintings. I feel like there are several dozen forgotten masterpieces.

  This is an abstract from around 2005. My whole basement was my studio. I had two big easels set up and I was painting in acrylics no smaller that three feet by two feet. My watercolors were four by six inches on the small side to ten by twelve inches on the big side. I was making art every day. And I was gloriously unemployed while I took care of my mom. That gave me a taste for the artistic life.

I was doing a lot of this Big Bold Shadow stuff. Which all had it's roots in this series:

I painted these in Lane Fabrick's Painting 1 class at Southeast Missouri State. He passed away a couple days ago. He was a big influence on me. He taught most of what I know about color mixing and theory. He referred to me as 'the most prolific artist I ever taught" and showed slides of my work to every painting class he taught, until he retired. Every one. For the longest time I had no idea. I guess I had quite a legacy. I do kinda feel bad for all the poor bastards that took the class after me, knowing that no matter how hard they tried and how much they painted they'd never beat my record for most paintings. I'm mighty proud of that.
  Anyway, I'm not sure what I should have written about. Maybe what an ass Last Week Doug is for posting all the new art pics. Ah, well. I'm sure I'm doing something to annoy Future Doug. Here's some new shoes I've done:

  Okay, I didn't realize I had that many pairs of shoes to post. Sorry Future Doug. I'm sure you'll think of something.

New Art And Thoughts

   I'm proud of the effort I've put in on the studio overhaul. I have room to move now. I have my computer desk, my drawing table, my easel, and my papasan chair all strategically located. I'm still in the process of sorting my art supplies, but I would like to say this: "Holy Crap! I've got a lot of cool supplies!" Way more brushes than I thought. I'm gonna guess at least three hundred, but there could be another hundred or so. Brushes that range from twenty five cents to one hundred and fifty dollars. I'd forgotten how many I had. That's also the same thing I ran into with my watercolors. I had them all together, and knew where they were. Really nice, expensive colors. Cadmiums. Ceruleans. Lapis Lazuli. Gold. Actual gold (although I guess it's not technically a watercolor). Then tonight, as I'm clearing space on the other side of my easel I find a good sized tote with more watercolors. It was just like Christmas. I usually hate Past Doug. He has usually spent all our money and put me in a bind. I also usually feel bad for Future Doug, because he has to deal with all the mistakes I make. He's usually broke and working extra because of me. Eh, there's nothing any of us can do about it.
   I'm also painting as I de-clutter. Here's one of the new ones:

 I like it, but I had it pictured differently in my mind. I'm not really able to put my finger on what I'd like to be different. That's part of the "pain only an artist feels" that I was talking about a couple weeks ago. Then there's this one:

I like this one. It turned out pretty much like I wanted it to. I like paintings like this, but I love the ones that my me work to get a good result. They may not even look as good as the others, but I remember the struggle and how I came out on top. It makes me feel good.
    I also came across some notes and pictures from about ten years ago. I wrote about getting new studio plants, just like I did four weeks ago. I also found a sketch I had made about a semi abstract idea I had. It was a face with black lines running vertically and horizontally across the picture plane. I did a double take, because it's basically the blue print for the painting I did a while back that looked like this:

Sometimes my ideas have to germinate before I set to work on them. Sometimes it may be several years.
  So here are the other two paintings I've finished. Remember, you're seeing them here first. I'm also gonna post all four so I have to get new material for next week. Poor Future Doug.

I like the face. The hair, eh, not so much.

This one grows on me. It's not what I pictured, but I didn't really picture a finished product. It's hard for me to explain. I guess I thought it would be darker.

Lesson One

  So, last week's post wasn't as well received as the others. Kinda disappointing for me, but, you know, that's the life of an artist I suppose. My friend Ian used to have a phrase he used, "the kind of pain only an artist knows". I like to use that one occasionally. It really stops people from asking more questions. So, although I can't teach you what that particular pain feels like, I can teach you a bit about art. Not in a Bob Ross "everybody can paint" kinda way. More of a " you can understand what the artist was going for" kinda way.
  I was cleaning and sorting my studio when I found the information I originally came across years ago. It was from SoYouWanna.com and broke down artistic periods and movements for the common person. It was done in a humorous way so you didn't realize you were actually learning something. I don't want to blatantly rip off the material (although artists do things like that a lot, visually anyway). I also found some information from a gallery I was looking in to doing a show with. It seems to be worksheets for a school class. Perhaps what they handed out for field trips. Reading over it made me laugh a bit. It contained things like a list of words to use in order to make yourself sound more intelligent. This is the kind of shit that irritates me and alienates the common folks. You don't need words to sound intelligent. you need intelligent thoughts and ideas. Here's a list of some of the words:

• enhancement
• sequence
• austere
• fervor
• opulent
• fluidity
• brisk
• lavish
• anguish

  This reminds me of the 'chef's descriptive words' they wanted me to use when I was a waiter at that nation wide seafood chain. Pretentious shit. When's the last time you used 'austere' or 'fervor' in your day to day conversations? Yeah, me neither. I'm all for using a big vocabulary. Repeating the same words over and over gets very distracting to the listener. But, come on, quit trying to make it seem like you need a special vocabulary to talk about art. You don't. I've had many occasions to ask people what they liked about my paintings. The answer that I seems to get most often, the one that makes me want to cry is, " I don't know how to talk about art". If you can form a sentence, you can talk about art.
  Let's look at a painting:

 Here's the pretentious person: " This piece straddles the line between formal and informal balance, adding to the implied tenseness of the work. The artist strives to show us the fine line between happiness and sadness that we all experience in our daily lives. The muted colors, along with the strong black areas, recall the work of earlier expressionists, carrying the torch into the 21st century. Baltz's minimalist style fully captures the emotional state of the world today."
 And now, Joe Average: "I like this one. The yellows go well with the black. even though there's a lot of black it doesn't seem to be depressing. The smile on the face leaves me feeling happy as well."
  Who's correct? Well, technically both are. That's the insidious thing about the art critics and their art speak. It's really just their opinion, so it can't be wrong. Who would you rather go to the museum with? Joe Average? Good answer. Me? Suck up. Also, not such a good choice. I get really annoyed at all the shitty art they display. The pretentious person? No, just no. In no reality is that a correct answer.
  Okay, here's another one:

 Pretentious person: " The opulence of this piece is only overshadowed by the brisk, lavish brushwork. The painting oozes the fervor the artist experienced while creating it. The anguish and honesty along with the fluid shifting of colors only enhances the richness of the depth of emotion trapped in this one, waiting for the viewer to find the sensitivity to recognize a modern masterpiece when he sees one. I expect big things from this artist. His interpretations of the perfection of the human condition will lead to a major influence on all other artists looking to expand their sense of creativity."
  Regular Joe: " I like the colors. They're not what I expect when I see a painting. I'm not sure what the guy is thinking, but he seems intense."
 Me: "I'm just trying new things, sticking with the primary colors. I kept the yellow in the light and the blues toward the dark. I like the way the expression turned out. I'm pretty happy with this one."
   So, who's right this time. Me? Yes. I am. It's my painting and my blog, so, yeah, I'm right. Now, which description will help the painting sell? Most likely the pretentious one. It makes me sound like a genius. Am I a genius? Be careful how you answer that one.

Bonus art:

 No particular reason. I'm just really happy with it.

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More Snappy Answers.

  Alright, so I wanted to start this blog to educate people about the basics of art, kinda explain all the things that people wonder about. Like One Point Perspective, or Informal Balance. I have yet to do any of that. So, with that in mind, I'm gonna continue to wander down this road and see where it leads. Don't worry, I'm bringing art.
  One of the questions I was asked was why some artists find it difficult to receive praise. What's that all about? Well, here comes my stream of conscious. It might have to do with artists always being led to believe they are 'less than'. Outsiders who can't even conform enough to society to at least be musicians.

Or maybe because we always think our work could be better.
Regular Guy: "Hey, that's a great painting!"
Me: "Well, it's okay. I wanted more of an angry look to his face. The brush kinda streaked there, and there. It's a little off center too. I probably shouldn't have even hung this here."
Regular Guy:  "Oh, sorry. I'm just gonna go over, well, not here."
And the self doubt grows.
  The funny thing is that while painting that very painting, said artist was thinking " Oh, yeah! Hell yeah! I'm the Jimi Hendrix of acrylic paint!"
   Personally I had a really bad problem of doing stuff like that. Someone pointed that out to me, and I made a conscious effort to quit. ( I once had a drawing teacher in college. Bill Chamberlain. Great artist. I learned a lot from him. I probably owe a good 30% of what I ended up doing to that man. People skills? Well, not his strong suit. I mean, he taught idiot college kids. Who wouldn't get grouchy after a while? So, his catch phrase was "shut the hell up!" Alright, I'm getting to the point, but you needed some back story.) When ever someone praises one of my works, I picture the spirit of Bill Chamberlain in the sky, staring me down and saying "shut the hell up!". Kinda the Obi Wan to my Luke. It's still hard for me though. Even with the success I've had and the incredibly huge ego I've nourished. Sometimes that little voice creeps up in my head and says (yeah, it doesn't even whisper) "why the hell would anyone want YOUR art?". Sometimes I don't even have an answer. I've won awards, been accepted to galleries internationally, I'm in private collections from coast to coast. Sometimes I feel like it's all gonna be revealed as a big joke. That everyone is in on but me.

  On the other hand, I know quite a few artists who are the exact opposite. Preening about like peacocks, proud of the horrible mess they've created. Now, I'm all for anyone, hell everyone, doing art. But if you have to tell me how good you are, well, guess what? You're not. Bless your heart.

 You didn't really think I'd show someone else's work, did you?

   I was also asked if my life got out of balance when I didn't create often enough. Uh, yeah. Big time. I get irritable. Likely irritating as well. Depressed. I get deep in my feels. It's horrible. I do at least a bit of artwork every day. That helps a lot. Plus, I quit my soul sucking waiter job at the nation wide seafood chain. World of difference.

   I'll leave a few more for next time. I'd like to keep true to my vision for this blog, but I'll go where the people want me to go. Plus, I'm in the middle, or so, of a complete studio overhaul. I actually have room to move other places than just my easel and my computer. Plus Live Plants!


Entertained? Flush with cash? You can kick me a five spot. I'm just sayin':