2:29 pm: stopping an hour early; interrupted sleep & 1st day back. giving my hand a break. BELOW: on the left, the painting as i left it on 7/11, 2 days before my surgery. and on the right, the painting as it looked at the end of my first day back at the easel today. although i still have to complete the lower left segment, it has definitely livened up now. the eye travels up & down the narrow composition with delight. the cropping allows the viewer to complete each passage. it becomes obvious just how much the painter enjoys these long narrow shapes, which become an integral part of the overall feeling of this series titled "parade." in the exhibition itself this november,, i envision them punctuating the large wall spaces at gremillion, creating a kind of syncopation.
i'll continue tomorrow/ we have meetings and summer camp classes in alamosa wednesday and thursday, so if there's more to do before launching into parade 48, i'll be back in my studio on friday.
11:56 am: BACK TO MY EASEL!! i am in ecstasy. it may be that it was worth the surgery, the waiting, the pain to reach this moment of sheer delight, once again squeezing colors onto my palette and blending and putting paint on the canvas, watching the sidewalk art reproduction of a renaissance painting liven up and come to life. the crimson of the nipple, the illusion of a woman' face.
am i blessed, or what? these paints, some made in the USA, some in the netherlands, others in japan. all have found their way, via UPS, to my boxes of colors here in my big, light, beautiful studio. the brushes with their bristles, the portrait linen made in france, with centuries of tradition informing the weave, the relatively new technology of acrylics allowing for 4 fine coats of primer, creating a delicious, smooth surface with just enough tooth for the colors to flow from the brush.....
back to work
10:35 am: i'm about to squeeze out my colors and resume work on parade 47, following an 8 day interruption while my hand was healing.
i just listened to a channel 4 news interview with my old friend david hockney titled "when i paint, i feel i'm 30." david is 78. i haven't seen him in far too long, and it was refreshing and uplifting to hear what he had to say. you can watch the video here: