Father-Daughter Paint Night

The oil painting above is 4x5 feet and was painted in 3 hours. Normally a painting this size would take me months.

It starts with a quick home cooked meal. Crab cakes and a simple salad. I open a bottle of wine and listen to the gurgle of the first fast pour. Dad cracks the pop of a cold PBR and takes a satisfying sip. There’s excitement in the air because tonight the two of us are going to create a painting. It a giant white canvas--I mean this thing is big. It rests directly on the floor and leans against the wall. No easel could support it. I turn The Stones up a little louder on the stereo while dad adjusts the lighting. The room is now very bright and it’s late and dark outside. We’ve done this a few times before. Sometimes we start with a photograph, the painting above we call Elk Creek. It’s on property our family owns in the mountains of North Carolina. The photo was taken in early fall just as the leaves were really starting to change. Or sometimes we’ll create something totally abstract--just because it’s fun to sling paint and see what happens.

There aren’t any real rules. Dad will sketch out the horizon line. I’ll squirt some green and blue paint onto my palette. Pick out a paintbrush and GO! It’s fast and furious. We paint like crazy people. The music is loud, really loud. No close neighbors out in Hillsborough to complain. I’ll create leaves on a tree that hasn’t been painted yet while dad fills in the deep rust color of the ground. After about an hour it’s starting to take form. It takes that long just to get paint over most of the large canvas. We’ll step back ten feet to get a good view of our progress. Make some suggestions, grab another beer, change the CD and hit it hard again. About two hours into it I’m covered in paint. All I can smell is the nutty linseed oil and the sharp note of oil paints. It’s really starting to take shape and I’m having a hell of a lot of fun. Dad starts critiquing my paint application and I tell him to shut-up and work on his shading. Somehow in the midst of it all, a random blob of yellow ended up in the creek. Neither of us know where it came from, probably a glob of yellow paint intended to be a leaf but fell onto the blue of the water. We decide that we love it and leave it to be. Sometimes art creates itself and you just get to be a part of it all. After 3 hours neither of us can believe how incredible our painting looks. Maybe it’s the booze, maybe we’re both high from all the paint fumes. But each time I’m incredibly shocked at what we’ve created. I would never have been able to paint this on my own, and the same for my dad. We each bring something to the canvas that is special. My mom can usually tell who painted what, but she’s known us for our entire creative lives. Others can’t tell all at. Somehow our brushstrokes and color choices are able to work together, as different as fingerprints but all on the same hand. We’ll price our paintings out loud. “This one is definitely worth $3K easy!” “No, there’s no way I’m letting it go for less than 5.” But we’ll end up donating it to a charity auction. The one below is being sold at A Tasteful Affair this year, a benefit for the Ronald McDonald House if you’d like to have a look in person.



One day dad and I hope to have a gallery showing of all our joint paintings. We’ll wear black and sip martinis and pretend that we knew exactly what we were doing every stoke of the way.

Lets Paint a Peacock Feather-On Silk

I thought I'd photo document my most recent scarf creation. Hopefully you'll be inspired to create one yourself. Painting on silk is really very easy. I taught myself by simply watching some YouTube videos while ironing laundry.

What You'll Need:

1. silk you can buy this online or at Jerry's Art-O-Rama
2. silk paint
3. A tiny paintbrush
4. Gutta Resist and little squeeze bottle with a metal hollow tip (like a mini cake decorating tip) You can get these online or at Jerry's Art Store as well.
5 A frame. My awesome boyfriend made this frame for me with pieces of scrap wood. But you can use anything that lifts and stretches your silk off the table.

Using thumbtacks securely stretch your silk across the frame. All four sides would be best, but as you can see in my picture. My silk scarf is long and thin and I'm only able to affix three sides to the frame. That's okay, as long and it's tight enough that the silk won't touch the table.



Using the Gutta Resist draw out your design. It can be a simple geometric pattern. I'm using free flowing lines to create the individual feathers that make up the Peacock feather. The resist acts like a barrier and has the consistency of liquid rubber cement. Make sure your lines are thick enough to ensure that the ink won't bleed through. The resist can be removed after the scarf is finished by dry-cleaning it. And all that will be left is the pure white silk beneath.


Pour a tiny amount of the highly concentrated silk paint into separate containers. You can use water to decrease the intensity of the ink color. But keep in mind the ink will dry much lighter than it looks when it's wet. Use your paint brush to "color in the lines." It's that simple. The resist will keep the ink from going places you don't want it too--as long as you can color in the lines.

Careful for drips! The silk acts as a wick and it only takes a tiny drop of ink to create a large area of color. Feel free to mix and blend the paint/ink however you like. These paints do a lovely job of looking like a watercolor painting and it's hard to go wrong with color combinations




Half-way though my project I decided that I didn't have enough individual "feathers" so I went back in and created more using the gutta resist. You can always add to your design. This scarf is going to have several separate painted areas. Just make sure the ink is dry before you move the silk around.


Now one section of my scarf is finished. I'm going to let it dry before I move it to work on other areas of the scarf. Still to come... setting the ink so the scarf is machine washable and the colors won't bleed.

And to start: a poem

I've given myself the task of starting this blog. I have a degree in Creative Writing and my fingers freeze over the keyboard when I think about having to write for an audience who is essentially, the entire world (and whatever alien life forms are secretly tracking our existence). I think this must be the crux of my blogger's block. It's one thing to write for an enthusiastic small classroom of ten, but the world!? Pressure is on. So I thought I'd start with a little warm up--or cheating-- and post a poem that I've already written. This poem was published this pasts year for the Syracuse Cultural Workers, 2009 Women's Date Book. A publication for peace, justice, equality and all sorts of other warm and fuzzy good things. But the best was the check they sent for the grand sum of $125. Follow the link and you'll find my poem first under the "dedication spread." I hope you'll all be inspired to submit a poem yourself. (There will be a book signing following this blog.)

Misread

I'm laughing, but I don't think it's funny. 

People explain my words to me. They say 

My face is an open book. How unfair. 

Blue eyes and big teeth, that's my face. 

That's not me. My skin says I'm Caucasian, 

But maybe I want to be blue. A cool blue,

The color of tropical water rippling beneath 

A palm tree shadow.

I have small ears, 

Do you think that means I can't hear you?

Well I do. 
I hear you loud and clear. 

And I laugh out loud with my big teeth showing

And my blue eyes squinting. Because I can hear you, 

You and your tone, your condescending jokes 

And your patronizing explanations.

I'm laughing, but I'm not amused.

My squinting eyes can see you. My big teeth want to bite you. 

This face ain't no open book. This face is cliff notes

To the book you never took the time to read.