Here's another piece in progress. I'm calling it "1:00, 2:00, 3:00". I'm positive it will be complete during the next sitting. It's resting on a self in the studio, by the door leading to what once was a balcony. Someone closed it off in the 1950s. I'd like to expand it into a sitting room one day. Right now it serves as storage.
The second photo is of me hard at work on the typewriter.
March 12, 2009
March 10, 2009
Painting in Progress: Underwood Typewriter
I thought I'd share a photo, a glimpse into my work space. This is another painting of the old Underwood in progress. I'm tackling the keys today, a great way to ruin ones posture is to sit for 3 hours straight, hunched over moving across the canvas, inch by inch. In a few months, I'll share the completed painting once it's hanging at the gallery for the exhibition in June.
March 6, 2009
I'm Getting Older
I need to take breaks, frequently, from the easel. Stepping away, focusing on something else, then taking a glance over my shoulder to the easel to see if the past hour or so was a complete waste. I used to take it pretty hard when the painting was struggling. I used to think everything needed to be fixed now, but I've learned that it's wiser to wait about 24 to 48 hours to pass. I no longer experience the feeling of wanting to stick my foot through the canvas. I think I must be getting older.
I'm lucky to be doing what I do. Those nasty news headlines about hundreds of thousands of people losing their jobs, joining the millions that already have... well, I guess no matter what, I won't lose this painter life.
At the bank, I was cornered by the well meaning manager. Several brochures were lunged in to my reluctant hands and questions about my retirement were posed. I just finished telling her I was a painter, an artist, you know, like back in the olden days. I won't retire. I'll keep doing the same thing until the bitter end. And I already save so I'm not worried and that's because I'm really cheap, just ask my wife.
That did not compute with banker. Artist does not understand the rules.
I'm lucky to be doing what I do. Those nasty news headlines about hundreds of thousands of people losing their jobs, joining the millions that already have... well, I guess no matter what, I won't lose this painter life.
At the bank, I was cornered by the well meaning manager. Several brochures were lunged in to my reluctant hands and questions about my retirement were posed. I just finished telling her I was a painter, an artist, you know, like back in the olden days. I won't retire. I'll keep doing the same thing until the bitter end. And I already save so I'm not worried and that's because I'm really cheap, just ask my wife.
That did not compute with banker. Artist does not understand the rules.
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