"So how do you DO this?"

Behind the Scenes: my process

One of the things that’s most fun for me about my painting career is that I made up (or more accurately) am making up the technique every day I paint. To do that requires basic knowledge of color and proportions (thank you art school!) but the rest takes a sense of daring and exploration. It takes a huge dose of “I don’t care if I fail at this idea — I just want to see if this works” kind of attitude. About half of the main basic steps of what has become my technique were arrived at by exploring, and honestly, they were what I thought at the moment to be mistakes. But then the next day, I’d pull out the painting again and stare at it and (sometimes) be surprised at how the ingredients chemically reacted with each other overnight. Sometimes the result was horrendous; sometimes amazing. For the latter outcome, it was then a matter of trying to remember what all went into creating the results.

So what exactly is the technique I came up with? The core is a secret. It will be revealed at the reading of my will. Just kidding. :). But yeah, I don’t share everything. But here is what I DO share.

Step 1: Find some really good inspirational photos I can use for color reference.

Step 2: Create a pencil sketch on my canvas.

Step 3: Build up the sketch with layers and layers of gesso and modeling compound so that the sketch becomes dimensional

Step 4: Cover the entire textured surface of the painting with metallic leaf.

Step 5: Apply many layers of paint onto the surface.

Step 6: Seal the painting with either satin varnish or solar resistant resin.

That’s it! Easy huh? It’s actually not easy at all.  Through the years, we’ve had to call chemists and pick their brains about why the paint did this or that. To develop this technique, I’ve made so many, many mistakes but that’s how you invent anything really. I kind of enjoy being half artist, half mad scientist. At least I’ve not blown up anything yet (that only happens when I’m in the kitchen).

How to Handle Failure

I’ve been super busy lately. Hint: I hate being super busy unless I’m super busy painting. I hear you can have too much of a good thing, but that rule of thumb does not apply to my artwork (not so far anyway). I get lost in my artwork. It’s really my very happy place.

Until last Wednesday.

I was working on a series of three pieces that will be hung together (as a triptych). It was a pretty simple scene — mountain ranges and sky. I know how to paint mountain ranges and sky so I figured that this was going to be pretty simple. I began to apply the paint day after day and eventually, the piece entered “the ugly stage”. So far so good. See, every painting I ever have done has gone through that dreaded “ugly stage”. That stage is where most fledgling artists stop and throw their canvas against the wall and shout out some colorful French obscenities. The thing about the ugly stage is that usually, the very next day, the piece rounds the corner and begins to take on some maturity — it starts to look like what you intended it to look like. That is such an awesome thing. That turning point happens within a day or two of entering that ugly stage.

Until last Wednesday.

I could not make this painting idea work. It was boring. It was ugly and I was coming to the realization that the ugly I was seeing was not just a stage. It was really bad. I’ve heard gallery visitors tell their children, “Oh sweetie, just remember…there are NO MISTAKES in art”.

IF ONLY.

I make mistakes. What you do with the mistake is what will sink you or what will propel you as a creative person into a completely different direction. But oh man, it’s so difficult. I hate failure.

I refrained from throwing the canvases across the room, and I don’t know French swear words and I don’t say English swear words so I was really stuck. I felt so discouraged and frustrated. My painting was ugly and boring. And that is not okay. I sat with that realization and had to just admit that I was not perfect and that THAT was okay.

By the time evening came, I was ready to just scrape off what I’d begun painting and start all over again with a different idea. The “ugly stage” bested me. I think my real problem was that I wanted to just knock out something easy — so I painted mountain ranges and sky. I can do that in my sleep. It turns out that laziness and pride is not the friend of creativity. When I do the best work is when I approach a subject with joy, curiosity, respect and reverence and that is definitely not how I approached my failed triptych.

Maybe creativity needs silence to be ignited.

So at 2:30 AM, I woke up. In that very quiet and still time of the night, nothing was in my head at all. My mind was a completely blank canvas (pardon the pun). And quite unbidden, I instantly saw in my head an idea I’d never thought of before. And then I got so excited, I walked up to my attic studio and seriously contemplated starting to scrape off my old composition so I could begin the new idea right then and there. With wisdom not my own, I decided that idea was over the top and that I needed sleep so…several hours later I began to transform this triptych into something completely different than I’ve ever done before. And I’m having so much fun with it, that I’ve started an additional single painting using the same technique I’m using for the triptych!

Why moments of insight can’t come at 2:00 PM rather than 2:00 AM is unknown to me but that’s often how it works. Maybe creativity needs silence to be ignited. Maybe my heart needs stillness to be able to hear the voice of the real Creator. I don’t know. It feels mystical though.

When I’m done with these pieces. I’m so excited and continue to have so much fun doing what I do. And I’m so thankful people are willing to part with their money in exchange for one of my paintings. That is amazing and humbling.

So, more than ever, I am committed never to forget my real task: to approach every subject I paint with joy, curiosity, respect and reverence, even if it means I need to slow down and be quiet in order to make sure that happens.

“Are You Self Taught?”

I was asked the question the other day, “Are you ‘self taught’ or did you get training somewhere?” I’m actually asked that question a fair amount, so I figured I’d answer here: Yes and Yes. That’s my answer. Just as a rule of thumb, I think it’s a very good thing to get trained in a craft or skill by someone who knows that craft or skill better than you. That’s probably true of most things. The concept of being mentored, trained, even parented…that’s generally just how things work best in my opinion.

For artists though, there seems to be a personality type that wears that “self taught” label like a badge, and I think often times, that’s just because they are arrogant. Sometimes, I think that badge is code for “I figured this all out by myself”, “I don’t need anyone teaching me to do this better”, “I am above input from others”. Maybe. I have to grant the possibility that there really are geniuses out there who need no help or shaping by others. I don’t think there are many people like that though.

What I’m not saying is that if you want to be a professional artist, you should just find an art school and enroll. Not all art schools are created equal. Some schools are excellent, teaching technique and the rules of art. And once you know the rules, over time, you learn how and when to break them. But honestly, some art schools could be compared to a driving school that takes your sixteen year old and sticks them behind the wheel and just says, “okay, drive. There is no ‘right or wrong’ way to drive, just proceed as the spirit leads you.” Imagine the catastrophe.

“No one sees a strong foundation, but the higher you would like to build a structure, the more important a foundation is."

So, learning the rules and techniques are just wise, and can save a lot of time and frustration. “But” you say, “art schools are crazy expensive!” Yep. But there are lots of ways to get the cost down. I won’t take the time here to go down that rabbit hole, but feel free to email me if you’d like input there. The other option would be to find an artist whose work you admire and ask them to mentor you. That’s how they did it “back in the day”. Really, you just need someone to teach you the rules, and then give you input on your work. This takes a good deal of humility, but unless we really think that what we do and create is above critique, that critique is absolutely invaluable. I still get some folks visiting the studio who think it’s their God given assignment to critique my work. And sometimes, I gain something awesome by listening (not all the time, but sometimes).

I went to Art Center College of Design in Pasadena, California. That was an awesome experience. What those four years gave me was akin to a foundation. No one sees a strong foundation, but the higher you would like to build a structure, the more important a foundation is. Since college, I’ve invented my own technique. No one taught me that technique. I made it up all by myself, which is very gratifying and it’s awesome when you invent a technique because no one can say you’re doing it wrong. :) Well, sales or lack thereof tell you if you’re doing it right or wrong. I’m constantly playing and experimenting now…”self teaching”. But that’s all based on the foundation of color theory, composition and basic painting/drawing skills I learned in classes.

So, those are some thoughts from me. What are some thoughts from YOU? I’d love to hear what you think (especially if you’re an artist!)