The title of this post just came to me out of nowhere, but I had to laugh because it reminded me of what my biggest fault was when I used to jump horses–it was called “jumping ahead” and it meant that you got into your jumping position before the horse even started to lift up over the jump, instead of waiting for him to lift you out of the saddle. That mistake made things a bit more difficult for the horse, although mine never seemed to complain.
So, that said, I am jumping ahead here with a purpose–namely, to beat Michigan cold winter temps while I can and pour paint bases for a couple more Sky Pads while it’s still hot and sticky outside. It’s fall in Michigan, and it IS still hot and sticky outside. I haven’t even started the next layers on #24, but here’s a look at Sky Pads 25 and 26 base coat paint pour.
I used that weird new milky paint thinner again and was initially less than pleased with what it was doing. If you look closely you can see specks of red paint which didn’t dissolve in the thinner because I used a mixing technique I knew was problematic. That’s what happens when you’re in a hurry. The mix was rather concentrated but for some reason which shall probably remain perpetually unknown most of the pigment slid right off the canvas along with the paint thinner instead of separating into those striated patterns I love. True to form, I decided I would go with what the paint gave me, and after looking at it for a while I grew to appreciate the delicate pastel colors and the subtle shifts of color. Even the red specks eventually settled down and flattened out, drying in the process. So I know what I have to do next, which is to be light and delicate with the next lily pad layers so as not to lose this lovely floaty effect.
The second effort with the same paint thinner was closer to what I expected and has a nice flow to it. I was trying to get close to the color scheme of Sky Pads 17 but of course this one is not all that close because this process is intrinsically haphazard. I think it will work out quite well.
Meanwhile, the last outdoor art fair of the year is coming up. Also I will have 5 Sky Pads paintings in a group show at the Krasl Art Center in St. Joseph, Michigan, and–if I’m lucky–maybe another group show at the Midwest Museum of American Art in Elkhart, Indiana. Should know about the Museum in a week or so.
Looking forward to what you do with these. Off to a good start!
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I particularly like the texture on no.26! Funny, I worry about lack of daylight in the winter, you worry about the cold! No one us escape our environment.
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I suspect at my longitude we don’t have quite the same lack of daylight that you do. According to my ancient globe (yes, I really do have one) you are quite a bit north of me. Our shortest day in winter is just a very few minutes over 9 hours. Looks like yours is about 7 3/4 hours. But hey–you get the longer summer days!
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Ah, yes in summer we have light from 5am to 10pm (not all of that is good enough to paint by) and in the summer I am often still painting at 9pm. It means I can complete paintings in only one or two sittings. I much prefer that to spreading it out over more days. In winter I tend to paint smaller paintings. In winter the quality of light is often poor and it can “go” by 1pm on a really bad day. It’s very frustrating. Nine hours in winter sounds luxurious!
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These look great – even the one where the thinner didn’t work as you wanted. One of the things I enjoy about painting is the way the things that happen unexpectedly push me into new directions. I can’t wait to see what you make of #25!
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Yep, it gets pretty stale without the new directions, even if they seem like they’re forced sometimes!
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At this point, #24 reminds me of the ocean. #25 has lots of movement, which I like, but I know you will change that! Paint on, Alli!! 🙂
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Just love the texture on #26.
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