How it all began. . .

Personally and artistically I sometimes find it hard to get "back on the wagon" after a break in my routine. . .like the holidays!  Yes, yes, I know we're already scarily deep into 2011, but my own quirky psyche was left behind in 2010.  So, I've been very quietly going about my life without the usual excitement I feel over my art.  Imagine that!  Now tamping down the flurry in your head about this kind of situation is of utmost importance, lest you succumb and tumble into the proverbial rabbit hole. 

I've always come out on the other end of this phenomenon rather quickly and effortlessly.  I begin by saturating  myself with art. . .look at, read about, visit museums, galleries, etc., and talk the talk with one or two artist friends.  I turn to the Internet and the Artist Renewal Center. . .looking through their museum of paintings ( http://www.artrenewal.org/ ) until my eyes glaze over and there's no more tolerance for beauty.  This recent satiation led to becoming awed by the English painter, Lord Frederick Leighton. . .going over every inch of his paintings in high resolution, hoping to soak up by osmosis some magical something.  I kept coming back to one. . .

   Biondina (translation from Italian is fair-haired) - Lord Frederick Leighton 

Isn't this a gorgeous, moving painting?  I decided this painting was calling out to me. . .perhaps I should attempt a "Master Copy" of sorts so that I can learn, learn, learn!  This, after all,  was how I first began teaching myself portraiture. . .so why not go back to square one?  I had a canvas that had the beginnings of another painting on it. . .hey, I can use that. . .just paint over!  Yikes, I had also palette knifed various dollops of "end of day" paint over this canvas in an effort to be thrifty. . .thinking that eventually it would add nice texture to a yet-to-be-imagined painting. 


So, I began.

 Because I like intimate portraits, I concentrated on the face only. . .I began drawing with paint and tried to strategically place the face around  the palette knife work.  I realized that it was going to be hard to cover up the previous work so I invented an "Edwardian era" type collar for the neck. . .I've been watching Downton Abbey on Masterpiece Theater!  I recognized that my proportions were too much on the longish side, but I wasn't displeased by the look at all, so I continued without correction!  So you see, my painted face is not a replica of Leighton's Biondina, but for me something was revealed here that's strangely modern.  

Regal, inspired by Leighton's Biondina, 16 x 20 . o/c

Because I was willing to let go. . .to see where the inspiration was leading me, I was able to create something quite different than if I had slavishly worked on making an exact "copy" of his beautiful work.  In the end this exercise has given me other ideas, paths, to follow and more importantly, or perhaps MOST importantly, has stoked my painting fire. 

 I will admit to thanking Lord Leighton quietly before closing my eyes of late. . .for his beautiful paintings and for breathing light into my life these cold winter days.  It's stunning to think an artist can touch you that way. . .he's been gone for 115 years and yet his mastery has managed to fully capture my imagination.  To start with a blank canvas and not know where you'll end, but trusting yourself to continue on. . .even during the not-so-great middle part.  My modest attempt has come full circle and I leave it with a vow to continue studying painters of the past, and offer this poem to soothe.

Wild Geese 

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting - -

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things.  - Mary Oliver