When starting to paint I have an idea of the landscape in my mind or a photo beside the blank board. Rough painted strokes outline the forms and lines. Blocks of solid colour come next and then reflection and contemplation while the under painting dries. Texture, form and detail come last. Then a check – What was my mission statement – have I fulfilled it. Is it the light…the mood…the shapes. What do I need to modify to make it clear? Each painting must have a mission statement and fulfil it grandly.
Try this. Find the blue. Map it out on the screen. Follow the gradation – dark to light. Contrast the green and follow it the other way, back down to the corner, darker and darker. Peach the sky and throw highlights on the solid forms. Temper with white, lighten and smooth. Yellow strikes through like the remnants of the day fighting to retain its former glory… and dusk settles.
It is not a production line – not at all. Each artwork is lovingly created and cared for. A special piece that finds that special owner. When the meeting of hearts and minds happens it is helpful to have the work framed and sent as soon as possible. Here is where the system comes into its own! A handy stock of expertly crafted frames by experienced masters. Made to order. Made to suit the sizes I paint most.
Systems. The time saved means I can spend more time doing what I love… and for me that’s painting.
Watch for further posts where you will meet our framing team!
The old shoemaker was very poor. He had just enough leather to make one last pair of shoes. He left the leather out on the table and in the morning the elves had made a beautiful pair of shoes. He sold them for enough money to buy leather for two pairs of shoes. The next night the elves made two pairs of shoes and the shoemaker could buy more leather. This went on for some time, whereby the shoemaker was able to manage on his own. The shoemaker thanked the elves by making them clothes and they were never seen again.
Note to self: work hard, accept help when I need it, make a small profit each time to build on. (and yes… those are my wife’s handmade booties)
I see shadows as colours. They deserve their space. They are rarely black. Most often they gleam and slink, slide and glide around the place. If you catch them you can see their colours. I catch them and paint them and let them own part of the canvas. And allow them shape and form. Allow them light and substance because shadows are wonderful. They have their own story to tell if you have ears to listen.
The brushes sit in the plastic cup. The Bunnings brushes. Thick ones, synthetic ones, round ones, shiny bristly ones… sitting in sludge. They do get washed. They do get clean. Eventually. Maybe. Last time the dutiful carer washed them for me. I hear some use fancy brushes - the ones the famous people use. The hope that same tools means same result. I am a poor carer of my brushes. Often they are discarded, beyond redemption. New hopefuls lined up and ready.
‘I just love the colours’ rings in my head after exhibitions and posts. People say they like my colours. They are not my colours. Just the ones I use. The ones that choose to be in the story being told. The colours of the wind, the late afternoon light, the ones that tell of the feeling of the cool of the evening after the heat of the day – stealing across the canvas to wrap their arms around and take me somewhere else. The colours of childhood and remembering. The clash of red and purple and the impossible blue of the shadow and tree. Pink sky and peach clouds. It is the way I see it. It is the way you see it with me.
We love going to the Berry Tea Shop. They just serve tea. Even if you wanted coffee or hot chocolate... you won’t find it here. Unashamedly they just have tea. Oolong, herbal, lapsang, English Breakfast… the list goes on. My favourite is Marsala Chai… exquisite! Much tea. Really good tea. This is where you go to get great tea.
I know of an artist who just paints clouds The most elegant, beautiful, transcendent clouds. There is an artist who only paints in black and white... heart wrenchingly beautiful streets, arcades and abandoned buildings. I see their work and I know them. In a world where there is constant pressure to diversify, multitask, please everyone… I realized today that it’s ok to be really, really good at just one thing.
I hear some say their success is limited by not having the right tools or space, and it is true we need some things to create. If I had a new studio I could. The work would look better with the latest camera. Oh, I need the $50 brush, the new app, more expensive paint. If only I had... I could.
When there is genuine skill it will shine brighter than the brightest things.
Unless you are doing a metallic installation, bright shiny things doth not a masterpiece make.
Richard Claremont - artist. A peek into my studio. How I think. How I paint. How I run my art business. Bite sized daily chunks of goodness. Just me talking aloud, really. Join me for a chat over a cuppa.
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