New Inspiration, Old Canvas

When I'm able to, I paint once a week at Wayne Art Center.

I appreciate being able to learn from the talented instructor, Georganna Lenssen

and usually welcome the occassional in-class 'assignment'.

For a while, I avoided the model assignments, choosing instead to work on my own projects.

Painting people makes me anxious.

If the scale or relationships between features is even a little off,

the result can be kind of goofy.

I am so disappointed with myself when I end up with goofy on my canvas.

But....

since I have declared that this is 'My Year',

I decided that includes pushing myself into areas of discomfort so that I can learn things that I might otherwise avoid.

A few months ago, I showed up at the art center with a prepared
18 x 24 canvas, 

thinking that I would work from one of my photos
but decided it should be an evening of being uncomfortable.

Does this look like the model?

Not really.

I'm pleased that I kind of got some of her features kind of rightish,

but...

her nose is too small, too high and too red, as if she's suffering from algeries.

I also gave her prematurely gray hair.

I apologized to her.

Did I learn something?

Definitely, yes.

Do I want to keep this painting?

Definitely, no.

Last night, my prematurely gray model painting became the canvas for a new painting that is in progress.

Something has been gnawing at me to try some more abstract work,

and my model became the underpainting for a new piece.

So that she wouldn't distract me, 

I turned her upside down before I began my new composition.

(the blue chair, green top and right arm are still visible in the upper right corner)

I think I know where I'm going with this, 

but it's all right if I end up in a completely unexpected place.

What is it?

This does represent something specific to me,

and I've decided to keep it to myself.

I've come to realize that I rarely enjoy describing my inspiration...

it's just too personal.

My hope is that, 

whenever I paint, 

I'm able to create an image that somebody else, 

maybe just one person,

connects to with their own interpretation.

I won't ask for an explanation.

And a few day later...

calling it completed
(at least for now).

Exploring New Textures, Again

I recently went to the 

Pennsylvania Guild of Craftsmen's 

show at Rittenhouse Square in Philadelphia.

The Guild shows are consistently wonderful because members must meet and maintain a certain level of mastery in their particular area of craft.

I'm always interested in seeing what other jewelers are creating and was again reminded that most professionals have developed a particular line that can be recognized...

(some fabulous work was seen by Janine DeCresenzo and Heather Stief)

a definite advantage when promoting one's work.

I continue to believe that, when seen as a whole, the body of my work has a degree of cohesiveness,

but individual pieces might not be attributed to me.

This approach does create a marketing challenge,

but I have not been able to deny my interest in exploring new techniques...

like the texturing of these copper discs.

I had cut a few discs, wanting to experiment with texturing.

The plan had been to do some fold-forming,

so the discs were annealed.

As I prepared to get to work, my focus shifted to my dapping block

and ended up with a a texture that calls to mind a lotus seed pod or a lunar landscape.

Once I had a small collection of these lotus/lunar discs,

the brainstorming began.

I have what I think are promising ideas for earrings and bracelets that incorporate the new discs,

but chose to move forward with a necklace.

Three discs, of gradating size, 

were soldered to a base of etched silver nickel

that I had cut with my jeweler's saw.

A bail was formed with pliers

and soldered on to the back

allowing for a clean connection to the woven cable.

Could this be the beginning of a specific line in my jewelry empire?

Possible....

but probably not.