opportunity....

So I finished the painting of Vince today... Ever restless, I'm constantly thinking about a million steps ahead.

At times like this I take a mental tour of images that dazzle me... I thought about all of the glorious pictures I have from a summerful of 7th Heaven concerts. Those who read my blog regularly are familiar with this group that I adore. So I went to their website and got the e-mail address for Richard Hofherr, their "head honcho" and I wrote him an e-mail asking him if he'd mind me doing some paintings of his band for a school project.

Less than two hours later he e-mailed me back. Not only does he not mind (thank you!), he said.... OMG.... he'd feature the paintings in their band newsletter they distribute to their fan base. Hello!!! Do you think I'm the tiniest bit excited?!?! Sometimes you make your own opportunities and sometimes it works out even better than you dreamed.

I've spent the past few hours analyzing photos to decide which ones to tackle. That familiar excitement is igniting big time. I'll go to Blick at lunchtime tomorrow and get the stretcher strips and some more gesso. Here we go again. Stay tuned.

done?

Well, I think I'm finished with it. Part of the process is living with it and looking at it for a while. The hardest thing about a painting is knowing when it is "really" done. I tend to always look at it with a critical eye, always finding something else I can tweak. Sometimes that's good. But mostly it's not. Overworking a painting is the kiss of death. So I'll look at it a few days. Maybe it's done. Maybe not. Anyhow, I'm gonna watch the hockey game now. Go USA!

falling back, moving forward

I'm going through a very tough time. I'm going to be brief about it, because my emotions are still very raw. My mother-- my best friend, my biggest fan -- is having some serious health issues. She's had mild dementia for a few years but last week she took a turn for the worse and now my sisters and I are forced to consider assisted care for her. It's ripping out my guts. Additionally, work is not going well for me. We're in the midst of a big and stressful project with a lot of deadlines, worry and tension. Some days I feel like I'm very close to falling off the edge of a cliff. But my problems are not unique. And, like all problems, I know they'll resolve with time. Until that happens, I have no choice but to try valiantly to find the strength within to cope as best I can. Thankfully, I have the support of friends and family who are there to listen and to lend me a shoulder to cry on.

And there is solace in routine. When times are tough, we tend to cling onto the goodness in our lives. For me right now, that's running, painting, hockey. Although my emotions frequently make me feel physically ill, somehow I've been managing to keep up with a decent exercise schedule. Three runs this week. 20 minutes of yoga. A glorious Friday afternoon ice skating session with a friend.

Additionally, art IS therapy and I've been hard at work on the painting of Vince. The picture above shows my progress. I went to class on Tuesday with the underdrawing completed and with Loretta's encouragement, I started to put paint to canvas. It felt awkward at first because I hadn't painted much in a while, but I felt the groove return slowly. I laid down a wash of gray in the background just to kill the white, but the uneveness of it was very distracting. So the next day I flattened the negative space. Not sure if I'm 100% satisfied with it-- I may want to cool it down a bit or perhaps lighten it-- but I'll resolve the figure before I make that final decision. The first application of paint made his face look somewhat like Bruce Willis (which kind of cracked me up), but the longer I work on it, the more the true likeness is emerging. Today I worked mostly on the face and the shirt, and laid down a stronger blue (cobalt) on the shorts. The arms and the legs are still very gestural; I'll most likely work on them in class on Tuesday. What's next? I've already started to sketch out my next painting. It's an oddly juxtaposed portrait of John wearing a scarf. It has some pretty dramatic lighting and coloration so I'm looking forward to it a lot.

And hockey. The entire Olympics, really. What perfect distraction. The USA vs. Canada game is on tonight and I can't wait. It's a win-win because Blackhawks are on both teams!

So althought I'm beaten and bruised, I'm not defeated. Sue gave me some good advice yesterday-- live in the moment. Focus on what you are doing RIGHT NOW. Projecting into the unknown future can quickly become too overwhelming. Great advice from a great person.

a blank canvas

Tuesday night was my first day of school; I'm taking a painting studio at SAIC. We'll work independently on a cohesive body (or bodies) of work. After consultation with my instructor Loretta, I decided to pursue two themes... runners and friends/family in scarves.

My first work is going to be a running portrait of my friend Vince. The source photo is excellent-- lots of strong shadows that will translate wonderfully in paint. I rarely do preliminary thumbnails, but this time I did because I was uncertain of the composition I'd use. I made three sketches in class. One was tightly cropped on the figure... that I rejected almost immediately because it was too confining. Next, I did a horizontal composition, orienting the figure towards the right, with a little negative space above and lots to the left. That didn't feel right, either. Finally I decided to place the figure to the far right, with plenty of negative space above and to the left. It's a non-traditional layout but it excited me right away.

It will be a mid-sized work... 30 x 20. I'm going back to canvas-- linen primed with gesso.

Here's how today's graphite drawing process went (see photo above with apologies for my lack of skill with the camera):

Sunday, February 14, 1:38 p.m. Sam Adams Light, chocolate oranges. iPod on shuffle-- Gravity by 7th Heaven. Sweet Child 'O Mine by Guns 'N Roses. Started with the head. It soon became apparent to me that if I don't get the mouth right and the jawline, it's not Vince. Did a lot of erasing, but I think it finally came together. I stepped back. Gives You Hell on the iPod. I'm dancin' now. This feels so right.

Arms, chest, torso. There's considerable foreshortening on the right arm/hand. I anticipated trouble with it, and I was right. That got erased about a million times and I actually screamed in frustration once (John came running down the stairs to see if I was okay). I'm still not thrilled with it, but I need some time away from it. It'll translate better with paint.

Finished up with the legs/feet. That was the easy part. Journey singing Don't Stop Believin'. Yes indeed. I believe this is going to be a very good one. I'm feeling very satisfied with myself right about now. Victory dance to Right Round. I put down the pencil at 4:14. Painting on it starts Tuesday. Gonna do the water soluble oils even though they kind of intimidate me.

Meanwhile I'm prepping the canvas for the first in the scarf series, which will feature John. Because it needs a couple more coats of gesso (and the Olympics are on) I probably won't get it sketched tonight, but I'll do so tomorrow after work.

This class is exactly what I needed.

indecision...

.. is no more. As many of you know, I ran the 2006 Chicago Marathon with less than an ideal outcome. Halfway through the 18 weeks of training, I developed SI joint problems in my back and was simultaneously training for the race and going thru physical therapy and on meds. How sick and twisted is that? The race was difficult and painful for me, but I didn't regret it one single bit. I had so much encouragement and support from friends and family and crossing the finish line, albeit in tears, truly did change my life and gave me confidence.

Since then, I've been content with shorter races-- 5Ks, Soldier Field 10 Miler, half marathons. Every year, for about a few weeks in October, I toy with the idea of giving the "big dance" another shot. This mostly happens when I'm prowling the Expo with Teresa, who is-- hands down-- the best runner I know and a truly awesome friend. Then the marathon comes and goes and I get "cured" of my ambitions.

But for some reason this year, the nagging thought of "should I try again?" didn't go away. And for months now I've gone back and forth in my mind. I'm several years more experienced with running. Yeah, but, I'm also several years older. Indecision is not my style. What's up?

I've talked to Teresa about it, who repeats the refrain "10-10-10" (the date of the race). I've talked to John about it. He'll support and love me no matter what. I talked to my chiropractor about it, who sadly informed me that he doesn't have a crystal ball and has no idea how well (or poorly) my less than perfect anatomy will react. I've talked with my sisters. One thinks I'm crazy. One might want to do it with me. I talked to my mom, who is a big-time marathon fan. She's all for it.

But ultimately it comes down to me. Do I have the motivation and determination to go through what I know will be a tough road? Do I want it bad enough? No doubt I'll have the support from loved ones. I have that in spades-- it's the only thing that's a given here. Yes. No. Do it. Don't.

Today registration opened. I thought about that as soon as I woke up. I still didn't know what to do. I went to work and worked for about an hour or so. Then something in my mind just clicked. I dunno. Can't explain it. I went to the marathon's website and registered. I'm in. For better or for worse. John was the first person I told. Then Teresa. Nick. Candace. Joe. Mom. Debi. Dawn. Facebook friends. Now the blogosphere.

I'm pretty excited.