Anyone who stands for freedom is on my pedestal

For to be free is not merely to cast off one's chains,

but to live in a way that respects and enhances

the freedom of others.

Nelson Mandela

It's portrait time again...

The weather was fine last night.

Far more comfortable for an evening of painting.

First block out the light and dark colors...

I usually use a bigger brush (this one) at this stage and a smaller one

for the details in the end...

can't have Nelson Mandela without strong colors...

strong colors for a strong man.

And there you have it.

I guess i could have made more of an effort to hide those words

"CAMPFIRE SONG" in his hair.  ;-)

Truth be told - i never noticed them much

until i was done. 

Several years ago, I read his book "LONG WALK TO FREEDOM"

and it reminded me of how so many of us take our own freedom for granted.

a lovely signature, wouldn't you say?

While i am a huge advocate of "knowing thyself"...

i also believe we make the world a better place

when we open our hearts to others,

and understand that there is room for everyone.

I still don't understand what most wars are about.

I suspect i never will.

Call me naive...

So here's the book i'm currently reading and loving...

You can often tell the character of a person

by the words he (or she) writes... especially if they are personal letters.

This is a book of letters Vincent wrote to his brother and friend, Theo, and

your love of the man grows with each page read.

His words speak to me of kindness and struggle and generosity and loneliness... and such heart.

Here are 3 passages that i found beautiful:

Oh, if only every artist had something to live on,

and to work on, but as that is not so,

i want to produce, to produce a lot and with a

consuming drive. And perhaps the time will come

when we can extend our business and be

more help to others.

*****

Come now, isn't it almost an actual religion

which these simple Japanese teach us,

who live in nature as though they themselves

were flowers?

*****

...you cannot study Japanese art, it seems to me,

without becoming much gayer and happier,

and we must return to nature in spite of

our education and our work in a world of convention.

*****

Beautiful, yes?

Being an artist sometimes means

feeling out of place in the world.

It's important for us as artists

to see the value in what we do.

To feel good about why we do it.

Too many of us still try to justify why we create,

or we downplay it as "just a hobby".

We create because we must.

Van Gogh created because he needed to.

Because it made sense of what he was feeling at the time.

His words remind me that there is room for everyone,

that many of us face the same struggles (whether in 1850 or 2012),

and his writings make me feel at home again.

Thank you all for visiting.

xox

watercolor bed, danny gregory and success

Time you enjoy wasting, was not wasted.

John Lennon

I think i need to clean up and fill up my little watercolor set...

or get a new one. 

oh yeah, babay... :-)

A quick little watercolor i did last night.

I need to get some new sketchbooks soon too,

and i think i'll try the Moleskin sketchbooks.

I've never tried them.

Have any of you out there tried them?

I know they're a bit more expensive,

but it's money well spent to me.

I'll bark about paying $3 for broccoli

but i don't mind paying $20 for a sketchbook. 

Priorities.

:-)

I love painting things that have exaggerated darks and lights.

Like these creases in the clothes...

Although these were obviously done too quickly.

I've been re-reading a few of my Danny Gregory books.

I had forgotten how brilliant this man is.

So many important words for artists to read.

If any of you still need permission

to call yourselves artists,

read his book "the Creative License".

It'll help you find your wings.

This page is one of my favorites,

although it's one of the rare ones without any illustration.

Haven't we all struggled with this?

If we're so good, why aren't we making more money?

There are genuine artists

who never seem to be able to break through

and then there are those who paint the same thing

over and over and over

in different colors

who have no sense of discovery 

or of the importance of art in the world

but they play the part

and they walk the walk

and they talk the talk

(usually bullshit)

and they get the government grants.

I can almost hear my father's voice here...

"y'a pas de justice dans le monde"

(basically, "life isn't fair").

I always think back at Vincent Van Gogh,

who sold only one painting during his lifetime,

and they now sell for millions.

But is that what it's about?

About selling?

Was his art not art

when it didn't sell?

Why did it all of a sudden become more valuable?

It was always the same art.

Was Van Gogh considered more of an artist

because his paintings eventually reached in the millions?

Would we ever have known about him

if his art had remained unsold, in obscurity?

Is that the measuring stick we use

to determine whether one is a successful artist or not?

It's certainly not my stick.

I don't think it was Henry Miller's stick either.

Art needs no measuring sticks.

The only sticks we need

are those attached to our paintbrushes.
xoxo

art history

I love history, and art history in particular.

I was reading part of these great books last night

and it got me thinking about the need for expression

and how similar we all are, in so many ways...

There's so much to learn

about one another, isn't there?

Regardless of how far back you go in time.

We are far more similar

than we are different.

I believe the need for expression

is far greater than we sometimes realize.

 I wanted to share

at least these few little things with you

that i find so interesting about these few artists.

Auguste RENOIR (1841-1919)

broke his right arm several times during his life,

and learned to paint with his left hand.

At the age of 57, he has severe athritis,

and eventually paints from his wheelchair.

But still - he paints.

(Renoir, with an already paralyzed right hand)

Claude MONET (1840-1926)

Attempts suicide several times in his life,

by jumping into the Seine River.

Between 1916 and 1926, he works on 12 large canvases,

that become The Water Lillies

and within this time frame,

he goes nearly blind due to cataracts.

Still, he paints.

(Monet - The Water Lillies)

Edouard MANET (1832-1883)

One of the great impressionist painters

who becomes good friends with artist BERTHE MORISOT,

who eventually becomes his model for painting.

He falls in love with Berthe, but in 1874,

she married his brother, Eugène.

Edouard's pain becomes obvious in his brush strokes

and choice of color in his paintings of Berthe.

He is no doubt filled with grief and longing,

and at the age of 40,

he becomes partially paralyzed

due to an illness.

And yet - he paints.

He dies at the age of 51.

The differences between this earlier painting

and the last painting in 1874

show the differences

between love

and loss.

Berthe MORISOT (1841-1895)

Her paintings are accepted at the Salon de Paris

when she is only 23 years old.

She builds a home in Paris

where she often entertains artists & writers,

including her dear friend, Edouard Manet.

Edouard dies in 1883,

her husband in 1892,

and her sister in 1893.

There is a dark cloud cast around her

and her work as an artist.

Still - she paints.

She dies of the flu in 1895,

at 54 years old.

(Berthe Morisot, self portrait, 1885)

Vincent VAN GOGH (1853-1890)

Of all the Impressionist painters,

Van Gogh is the one who inspires me the most

and who i feel was most misunderstood.

 He began to paint at the age of 27,

and painted over 1000 canvases in a period of 10 years.

He also wrote over 800 letters to his best friend & brother Theo.

Vincent suffered from epilepsy and other mental issues

that would surely be treated today,

but they go untreated in the 1800's and eventually,

he is brought to an asylum in Saint Remy de Provence, in Paris

after he cuts off part of his ear.

Van Gogh, self portrait, 1887

Van Gogh, self portrait, 1889

(Van Gogh, his last self portrait, 1889,

given to his mother as a gift.)

Still, he paints.

While he is in Saint-Remy,

 he paints Starry Night.

In 1890, at the age of 37,

he walks to a corn field

shoots himself in the chest,

and dies 3 days later.

His brother Theo dies only 6 months later

at the age of 33,

no doubt of loneliness.

They are buried next to one another

in Auvers, Paris.

Vincent Van Gogh sold one painting during his lifetime.

Today, they are worth millions.

I'm adding this footnote after i saw Lorinda's comment,

for fear that some of you

may run out & cut your wrists this afternoon...

;-)

This may sound to some like

the plight of the suffering artist

but what i find so interesting

is how despite everything,

despite how difficult or tragic

or traumatic these lives were -

they still felt the need to create.

The need for expression.

Perhaps it is not despite everything

but because of everything

that this need was so profound?

How about you?

Do you feel more creative

when all is well,

or does your art seem to take on

new meaning

when there's a gray cloud above your head?

Do you use art as a way

to help you out

of the darkness,

or simply to express this darkness?

Humour me.

I have a curious, passionate heart.

I said so in my profile.

:-)

And hang around.

Tomorrow's post may not be so heavy.

xoxo