Counting down...

Monday morning I found a little dinosaur on a baby tub of playdoh on my desk.

Yesterday afternoon, after over a week of not sleeping, long days of work and studio stuff...and a full day of rote data entry, I decided my little dinosaur needed time at the beach.

That clear spot is where my palette lived. It took three days to get enough courage to toss it out. I knew that once it was discarded, the next time I painted in oils would be after I moved to Providence.

Even though I know I'll be painting again in 7 months...and even though I'm super excited to immerse myself in drawings, it was difficult to throw it away.

The photo was taken last week but I couldn't post it at the time. The table is now filled with boxes.

End of an era...

Thank you so much to all who came out this weekend. Regardless of purchase, it was your presence and emotional support that was the true gift.

Late yesterday afternoon, my studio mate and I made our plans for cleaning the space and how to deal with stuff in the storage closet that we inherited from other previous artists.

Today I am spent.

(Written and first posted September 11, 2007)

Alizarin crimson mixed with sap green makes a beautiful, rich, deep brown. It's the way I begin, have begun...for over 10 years. The first mix on a fresh palette. It's my base. My grounding color. The earth.

Today I knew what I was going to paint. Grabbed an armful of small canvases.

Towers. Towers upon towers. Towers crashing.
Two towers in rubble.

Fast, little paintings.

I approached the easel and looked at the large painting, barely begun on Sunday. Only one layer of thin paint. My eyes moved toward the bag holding all the small canvases.

No more hesitation, I grabbed 3 brushes in my right hand. With my left, selected the largest of the three, soaked it in medium and then the brown, quickly glazing over the large painting. Repeated the process over and over. Then I slammed my brush in the alizarin, mixed it with medium and continued to coat the canvas.

Long, thin streaks of dark red began to show. Yes..blood. My blood.
It's perfect. A long sigh of relief escaped my lips.

My blood.

Time to go darker. Mixing some ultramarine into the brown creates a black that's alive. Today is a day for more blue than black. It's meant for the bottom of the painting.

Now, I've lied a little.

Although I always begin with the alizarin/sap mix, this painting session had one step before the mix. For me, an odd move. Very curious. Bright, light blue. Titanium with a small dab of ultramarine placed near the center of the painting. Quick and clean.

Then it was followed by my ritual glaze all over, except for that blue patch. From there, I began to build on the paint. Laying it thicker.

I thought I knew what I was going to paint today - two towers crashing.

Instead, it desired to be Two Chairs.

Busy weekend beginning. Hopefully some painting sales today and tomorrow. Boxes to pack. Lists to make. I have a show opening this evening in Ballard at Ballard Works. I'm overwhelmed.

And...

...I'm already tired.

Things are hectic right now and so it's tough to not only find time to blog, but currently have no mental capacity to create lengthier entries. Yesterday I was out and about and had no computer access from 2:30 on. When I arrived home late I went straight to bed so didn't even check email until this morning.

Today, I'm now headed for the studio and again won't be home until late.

More photos from Dungeness Spit.

Once we arrived at the beach, this was on our left...





Looking forward...





And Matt heading to the end of the Spit but his face was turned toward Canada. You can vaguely see Mt. Baker in the distance.

Road Trip Part 5:

We could finally see our destination. It's the long, thin strip just before the horizon line. Now all we had to do was walk down.







We saw this before walking down hill to the beach.





And here we are.

Dungeness Spit is a 5 mile stretch of beach. Because of the lateness of the day we only explored a mile of it but I was so thrilled to be there. I had left the road trip idea to Matt and it was a perfect suggestion. It has been on my "must see and do before I move back east" list. I've been especially drawn to it because it reminds me of the landscape that I miss so much.




(more photos this evening or tomorrow)

Road Trip Part 4:

Because we left late, about 4 pm we reached our destination. Almost. First, a trek through the forest path. At that time of day, it was a magical experience.

Road trip Part 3:

It was a day of beauty and adventure.

Road trip Part 2:

Although not our final destination, once on the peninsula we stopped in Port Townsend, a little sea town with a victorian flair. It is fun to visit although for me, too touristy to live.




It was the perfect place to grab lunch and wander around, see the sights and stretch our legs. We didn't eat at that counter but I did grab ice cream there.





Mt. Baker was just gorgeous.








I think this boat is really sexy. Not being one for luxury vessels, I get turned on by the simpler styles.





We saw this beautiful painted brick on our way back to the car.

Matt has been visiting from Boston and on Saturday, we opted for a roadtrip to the peninsula. I have a bunch of photos and so will post in different entries.

Part 1:

Waiting for the ferry...





Here it comes!





And we are off...





It was a gorgeous summer day. At one point on the ride, I could see both Mt. Rainier on my right and Mt. Baker on the left. I've never before seen both at the same time and was so overcome that I didn't get my camera out in time.

(My two studio windows are the two lit windows, third row down.)




Thursday evening was the final artwalk for the 619 Western building. Thank you to all who came out for it. It was the end of an era and the beginning of another.

In the studio all day. Here is an old photo because I forgot to bring my camera cable. Grabbing iffy wifi from the hotel across the street. Did some packing. Have a box of drawing supplies to take home. Music CDs in another box. Moving truck out back near the freight elevator. Another out front. Had a smoothie for lunch. Taking a break before setting up in the parking lot for this evening. Sad vibe in the building. The bunny is napping on the couch.

Into the setting sun on Cap Hill...


Considering I'm not one who jumps on the latest shiny thing and instead prefer it to prove itself with time, I saw something yesterday morning and immediate decided I want it.

I've been thinking about some type of digital pen for a few years, and was excited to see it.

The other item I want, but will wait until after I move to Providence, is a printer. The little bit of printing I do tends to happen at Kinko's or UPS store, with my flash drive. In the last year I've been thinking about printing out some of my photos on better quality paper and integrating them (or parts of them) into drawings and paintings. It's a project I've been excited about for a while, but it needs to wait a little longer.

Slowly prepping for the 619's very final art walk in the parking lot tomorrow night. I'll be there with some work.

Am looking forward to beginning some drawings in my home studio. I have many ideas I want to explore but it seems that right now, life is about prepping for this first transition of moving the studio.

And on that note, I believe it's a blessing that I need to move from my studio now instead of at the same time that I'd be moving from Seattle. Deal with one at a time.

Look at what I saw on the side wall of our 619 building. It's a massive....maybe 4 - 5 ft high shirt made entirely of while plastic clothes hangers.

Tonight I spent a few hours in the studio:

~going thru my four portfolios...cleaning them out and sorting. Three now hold completed drawings and the fourth has paper that I'll be able to use once I move out of the studio. It was a trip going thru them because I found a professional photo shoot done of me back in the late '80's, with my guitar and surrounded by paintings. There were also photos I took that were from 1983.

~sorted through my bottles and jars. I now have a pile to be recycled and a pile that I will pack and move.

~brought home almost all the art books that were floating around in the studio.

~placed my mediums, thinners, turpentine, varnish in a box for my studio mate. I'll replace them when I get my new studio.

~collected and organized all the photos that I've been painting from so they are now in one labelled envelope.

Getting started was really difficult. Each step was slow and my heart was heavy. I kept reminding myself that ultimately this is all good because I just know that life will be just as magical on the east coast.

A red pepper and three green chairs.

I saw this a couple houses down from my apartment today. It was there at 7 am when I walked for coffee and still there at 5 pm while headed down the hill to meet a friend for dinner.

It's odd...and it made me smile.

Last night was a lovely evening outdoors, enjoying food and company with other painters and sculptors and poets. Good conversations, music and sharing our work with each other.

I brought some paintings that I haven't publicly talked about and received some pretty sweet insights and ideas. It was a good infusion that has me excited to continue while looking at the work with new eyes. But the experimentation will now need to happen in graphite, ink and acrylic paint because my apartment will be my new work space.

Interestingly, even though I'm excited to begin working on this other series, I'm feeling incredibly vulnerable today in having revealed the work, opening it to constructive critique from artists I admire, because the paintings come from a pretty dark place.

Photo from the backyard.

The place where art walks originated is holding its final art walk in the parking lot next to our 619 building on Thursday evening. I will be out there with some smaller old works for sale as well as showing one of two paintings from the new "studio series". And...although of course I'm feeling a big sadness, I also feel so damned lucky that I was able to spend the last four years in this building and become a part of its rich history.

Today I begin packing the studio. Sort through supplies and decide what will come to my apartment so I can continue to work. I have a large roll of drawing paper that will be torn into smaller sheets so I have stock to work from. I'll make sure to give my brushes a good cleaning before putting them away. They will be packed separately because I am taking them on the plane with me when I move in February.

I keep thinking I'll do one more painting...but when I step into the studio, I know I've completed the final piece in this space. Although I know it's perfect and needed, accepting the idea of not painting in oils for 6-8 months is also tough. I'm seeing it as an exercise in chastity.

This photo is from the back stairwell in the 619.

To all of you headed out to the playa...be safe. And have a blast.
To all of you on the east coast...be safe. And breathe.

I wish you all well.