Sunday, September 10, 2017

Out in the Wilderness

A 12x16 plein air sketch from Apalachicola ©Theresa Grillo Laird

How does it happen that you reach out and the universe answers in multiples?

I've been in a world of places literally and figuratively, for the past 4 months. In May I attended a 4 day event of demos, lectures and painting at Plein Air South in Apalachicola. With this year's roster of talent, it was well worth the time and expense. July gave me a Best of Show award at  the Outdoor Magic exhibition in Sandestin's Foster Gallery. The next stop will be the Oil Painters of America Eastern Regional Exhibit coming in November in St Simons Island. And though my private art lessons schedule has been filling up, there's still room for a couple more students. It's been an active time, but in my own mind, I've been out in the desert. Not a desert of bleak desolation, but a place where the air is clear, the lines are simple and it's possible to see into great distances.

This journey into the wilderness all started a few months back, when the impetus to find meditation's place in my life became too strong to ignore any longer. Traveling a road of inner discovery has led to the question of what this gift of art is, that I had nothing to do with acquiring, and where I really want to go with it. I keep coming back to the same point, that the most compelling direction has always been and still is, to push the experience of searching to the limits. In other words to confidently travel the long and often surprising path that ultimately brings your work closer to a more fully realized expression of your unique gift.

An artist I met in Apalachicola who has successfully  traveled the route, advised me that every artist needs to choose between the art path of painting for the tastes of the day and with the aim of sales and recognition, or painting for themselves and for what fulfills their personal vision. He added that they are not the same path.  

I've been enjoying this place of quiet, reflection and exploration. If I remain somewhat absent from this space and from social media in general, you'll know where I am. 

How about you? I'd love to hear about your journeys of discovery.  

Wednesday, April 19, 2017

Steps in the Process

Through the Dunes - ©Theresa Grillo Laird - oil on canvas - 12x16
Walking a pathway to where ever the road leads!

I remember when I first tried to learn how to paint in oils. I was 12 years old and had been given a Christmas gift of Grumbacher paints, bristle and sable brushes, canvas boards and an easel. What a treasure! But no one in my family was an artist. Nor did my parents know any artists. I assumed I was just supposed to plow ahead, so I did.
The first 3 of those canvas boards were covered with a still life of a bowl of fruit that my mother had set up for me, a painting of white and red flowers that I copied from a postcard, and a scene of Christopher Robin and Winnie the Pooh that I painted from imagination, placing them on a footbridge crossing a brook in my town. I found these first paintings again years later. The first two weren't bad at all, especially for an absolute beginner. But the last one was my undoing. Not knowing anything about perspective, the bright blue brook flowed vertically from the top of my canvas to the bottom. I remember being disgusted and frustrated that the vision I saw in my head was so far from what appeared on the canvas.

When I teach, I see the same frustration, and the same unrealistic expectation that an intended vision will immediately appear on the canvas despite the student having no experience with the materials, and sometimes no experience drawing. Often a beginning student feels more confident copying a step by step demo rather than trusting themselves to apply whatever knowledge they've gained. Copying rather than learning to see, unnecessarily deprives you of the pleasure of traveling your own path of learning with all it's joys and discoveries. 

In high school I finally received the instruction I'd been longing for, when I took a painting class taught by a teacher who was actually a working artist. From there on, as I wrote in my last post, I had to be my own teacher. And let me tell you! There's nothing like the excitement of traveling the road from knowing little, to being capable of expressing your artistic intent. I wouldn't choose to shortchange any portion of it. Each step delights you like an stunning vista that opens up unexpectedly beyond the curve of a path.

I tell my beginning students that if all they are capable of in the beginning is to divide the shapes of their subject into correct values with a light and dark side, well then, revel in it! Do 50 paintings like that, and what you learn will guide you to your next step. Be patient. Be attentive. Be sensitive to the little gifts that are dropped in your lap in return for your efforts. You will be repaid with a way to experience life unlike any other!   

Wednesday, March 29, 2017

Should You Look at the Work of Other Artists?


Though I knew from a very young age that I wanted to be an artist, art school- or any college for that matter- was not in the cards for me. Books became my art teachers. This before YouTube and the world of everything at your fingertips. At one time, I had an art book library 200+ strong, and I'd read every one of them.The large coffee table books with full page illustrations were the most useful. Later, for some reason, publishers started printing just the inside area of the paintings for their full page illustrations. They should have asked an artist first since any artist could have told them that cropping a painting in any way completely changes the composition and the painter's intent. 

I poured over these art book treasures, trying to fathom the mystery of how an internal sensation or vision becomes a concrete reality with the capacity to lift a viewer out of their ordinary experience of day to day. How did these artists with just a few tubes of paint and a flat surface manage to make so clear a picture of the channel they experienced the world through?

The large pictures in the art books made it possible to see the actual brushstrokes and the layering of paint. After wandering through that tapestry, I usually turned the pictures upside down or sideways to better study the design without my mind telling me what it thought I was seeing.

For several years, each of my days started in front of a sunny window with an art book, a cup of coffee in hand, and my cat Gillian curled up beside me.  I worked my way from Rubens, Hals and Velasquez  to the French Impressionists, Van Gogh, Gauguin, Sargent, World Impressionism, Russian painters, American painters, California Impressionism, and even ink painting of the Chinese and Japanese artists. I studied the works of individual artists. I studied about pigments and about using archival materials. Sometimes I read books for inspiration, following an artist's struggles and explorations. All the while, I kept painting. Eventually I had more paintings that were OK instead of awful.

I'm not sure when the tipping point occurred, that looking at other artists work became limiting rather than helpful. Maybe it was when I started looking more at contemporary artists. The inevitable comparing that's bound to result from too much looking, began to sap my confidence and eat away at the excitement  that art making had always brought me. It was time to pull back and spend a bit more time looking inward.

These days I limit the time I spend looking at other artists work. I've been spending a lot of time painting solo outdoors or in my studio. The resurgent sense of focus is liberating!

Saturday, February 25, 2017

Waiting for Perfect

Waiting.
Waiting for the perfect time to embark on your dream.
Waiting for the perfect conditions to paint.


A lot of us dream about the perfect studio. I can see mine. It would be as spacious as the ones in a William Merritt Chase painting, with room on one end to gather and sit. It's huge windows overlooking an inspiring vista, would flood the room with light . My perfect studio has high ceilings, plenty of room to step back while painting, a gallery, and storage space. While I'm dreaming, I might as well dream up an assistant too to help with the mundane studio tasks!
But back to reality. My studio, though mostly adequate for my present needs, doesn't remotely resemble my dream studio. If I waited for my perfect studio, I'd have never started painting.
Water Cave-© Theresa Grillo Laird - oil - 9x12 - (sold) 

This painting, Water Cave was selected a few years ago for an Oil Painters of America exhibit. Let me tell you how it was created. My parents has become unable to manage their household, so I left my home and traveled north intent on staying with them for a few weeks until I could find a permanent caregiver. The weeks turned into months, each day filled with the tasks of daily living and caregiving. At night after my parents went to bed, I would break out my paints. My work space was the corner of a desk already filled with books and a computer. Dark paneling lined the room giving my dim little corner the ambiance of a broom closet. To paint Water Cave, I pushed back the computer keyboard and monitor, clamped a light to the desk and started working. At about 3:30 in the morning, I'd finished. In the morning light it just needed a few small adjustments. No one seemed enthused about the result but me. So, I submitted it, and it got in! If I'd waited for perfect conditions, nothing would have happened. So, wait for perfect? Not me!

Friday, February 10, 2017

Winter Exhibits

Setting up, K.C.Williams, curator at Mattie Kelly Art Center


It's been a busy two months. I've barely been out of my studio, preparing works for shows and art festivals. One of those shows is the Southeast Regional Fine Arts Exhibition being held at the McIlroy Gallery at the Mattie Kelly Art Center in Niceville Florida.  After the excitement of seeing the pieces of artwork arrive, the exhibition opened two weeks later on a night of unusual winter thunderstorms. The weather didn't stop the crowds who were also treated to a beautiful photography exhibit of last year's first place winner of the Southeast Regional. This year the curators cast a wider net for the exhibition, including artists from California, Colorado, Texas, Georgia and New York as well as artists from the southern US. 


awarding prizes

Jennifer McComas , curator of European and American art at the Eskenazi  Art Museum in Indiana, served as juror. With each prize she awarded, she included her impressions and reasons for her choices. I love when a juror takes the time to enlighten the audience with their thinking process! I felt honored when my entry, The Stillness of Winter, was awarded honorary mention! You still have time to see both exhibits until March 3rd. Here's the link for information. http://www.mattiekellyartscenter.org/Event-ArtGalleries.cfm


I guess my studio time was paying off because the next bit of good news I received was that my painting Gulf Islands National Seashore-Coastal Path, has been accepted into the American Impressionist Society exhibition Impressions:Small Works Showcase in Costa Mesa California. I'm honored and thrilled!


Gulf Islands National Seashore-Coastal Path
Each season in a coastal environment has it's own special beauty. Now that Spring has arrived in Pensacola, I'm eager to be back outside painting in my favorite local spot, Gulf Islands National Seashore.

Friday, December 2, 2016

Unfinished Business

Sunflowers-still unfinished

The year will soon come to an end. For an artist in business, that usually that means formulating goals and plans for the coming year.

Surveying my studio today with it's piles of plein air studies and unfinished paintings, it seemed like a metaphor for the current shape of my life. An expanding mixture of duties has meant that many of my intentions for 2016 have only been partially realized. The furniture that crowds the studio while renovations go on in the house, adds to the feeling that my mind too is crowded with unfinished business. 

So, where to now?

Since I know exactly where I want to go, I'm clearing the clutter of everything that doesn't aid me on my path, which means spending much less time on social media, and much less time fact gathering and looking at what other artists are doing.  Obstacles I can do nothing about, I'll patiently ignore. In the space that's left, whatever good I can accomplish will have room to grow. 

Thursday, November 24, 2016

Giving Thanks in Uncertain Times

Chesapeake Autumn - ©Theresa Grillo Laird - oil on canvas (sold)

On this Thanksgiving Day, the election is over and the country stands more divided than ever. On one side of the chasm, people fear the dark rumblings of nationalism, the legitimizing of white supremacist views and wild conspiracy theories, and a blatant hostility to a large part of the citizenry. The protection of the natural environment so important to landscape painters, is in the cross hairs.
On the other side of the divide with those who would like to roll the clock back 50 years, stands the hard working middle class who have all but disappeared with the policies and practices of the past 35-40 years. This segment of America has placed their money on the hope that the companies and shareholders who've sent their jobs overseas since the 1980's are somehow going to be persuaded to now pay a much more expensive American workforce that envisions the return of a work place minus today's automated technologies.
"Make America Great Again" has two entirely different meanings depending on which side of the divide you stand. Meanwhile our worst enemies are rubbing their hands in glee.

So, where are we artists left? Where are we, the majority of Americans, left who didn't vote for a dark vision?

I've been talking to parts of my community who have long suffered the effects of hostility and discrimination. Unlike me, they are remarkably calm. I sense a kind of patient forbearance when I hear their dignified "It'll be OK." As if they've seen the ebb and flow of years of hate filled rhetoric that many of us are just now finding ourselves face to face with. For these people and their example of strength and grace I'm thankful.

For people who continue to exercise their right to protest in the face of personal harm, like those at the Dakota Access Pipeline, I'm thankful.

For people like Pope Francis who entreat us to look at what we are doing to each other and to the earth, I'm thankful.

For leaders like Bernie Sanders who don't freeze in stunned disbelief at defeat but calmly continue forward pressing the issues that need to be addressed, I'm thankful.

For the segment of humankind that clearly sees the wrongness of policies that bring harm to each other, I'm thankful.

For everyone who provides the example of how to come together in the face of deep division, I'm thankful.

And for the gift of being an artist that enables me to see and to bring beauty into the world, I'm very thankful, and will always be thankful no matter what happens on the political stage.

Wednesday, October 12, 2016

Community Among Artists

©Theresa Grillo Laird - Mirror - oil on canvas - 14x18
see here

How grateful I am for the community of artists!

Like many people, I've been watching the campaign season and wondering what is happening to our country. I guess I shouldn't be surprised considering how many years we've had to endure "news show" personalities sowing division and hurling vitriol at the political persons and party they disagree with. It makes me wonder how the country can survive the divisions these people have worked so diligently to foster. Even within families you find clashing personalities and viewpoints, but usually the greater good of an intact family prevails over self destruction. 

Contrast this sorry picture, to the community of artists. During the past month I've painted with 2 different plein air groups, participated in a paint out, and started a new round of classes and workshops. Each day I find myself in the company of artists, I come back revived, energized and happy. Of course there can sometimes be petty jealousies or prima donnas, but somehow, there usually isn't. What is there is a diverse bunch of people with varying degrees of experience and knowledge. There's generosity, goodwill, and an eagerness to explore and to share the results of different approaches to painting and marketing problems.Though we all paint differently and have different goals and ambitions, we recognize our commonality and celebrate the enormous good luck of finding ourselves here on this earth living as artists. -kind of like the incredible good luck of being born in this country.

If as artists, very different in many ways from each other, we can thrive together and celebrate what each brings to the table, is it such a far fetched idea that we can do the same as a country? Maybe the voices we hear too much of on the airwaves, need to take a look at how it's done in the community of artists. 

Monday, September 26, 2016

The Color Black

Woman with a Parasol - Claude Monet
Recently I found myself in conversation with a fellow artist about the color black and the manner that one popular instructor on the workshop circuit uses it. Rarely has there been a color who's use elicits so much debate! Throughout history there have been artists who have used it to beautiful effect.The impressionists on the other hand, tended to shy away from it, viewing it as the opposite of outdoor light which was their primary concern.

Laughing Cavalier - Frans Hals
Velazquez, Rembrandt, Hals, Manet, Degas,Sargent and Zorn all used black. Modern painters who include black on their palette are Jim Wilcox, Sherrie McGraw, Ned Meuller, Mitch Baird, and Kenn Backhaus.  Some of these artists use black with yellow to make greens. Some use it to make grays that they modify colors with. Some use it in place of blue. Artists who don't have black on their palette like Scott Christenson, Jim McVicker, Brian Blood, and Derek Penix, mix their black from the dark colors they use.


Berthe Morisot with a bouquet of violets - Edouard Manet
When I began painting, I had a much more extensive palette than I do now, including several earth colors, a violet, 3 blues, 2 or 3 reds,various greens and 2 yellows. I had black on my palette too for making greens. You wouldn't think I'd need it with all those blues and yellows! Over time my palette became smaller until it contained only 3 colors plus white. I worked for more than 2 years with that palette. A tried and true 3 color palette that contains black is an earth yellow, ivory black and a warm red. Personally I tend to avoid black. The simplicity and harmony of the palette is appealing but black's reputation for cracking is worrisome. I usually paint outdoors and my current palette has 1 or 2 blues, a violet, 2 reds and 2 yellows. Sometimes I'll add another red or substitute one red for another. Occasionally I'll add viridian green and cadmium orange. Sometimes I'll drop one of the yellows. 

 The Misses Vickers by John Singer Sargent
The particular colors you choose to put on your palette are really less important than the relationships between colors that you create in your painting. You'll find that there are also multiple ways that you can arrive at the same color, as the photos below show.



In this photo the inside greens were made with ivory black and either cadmium yellow lemon or cadmium yellow medium. The outside green patches were made with ultramarine blue, permanent red deep and either cadmium yellow lemon or medium. They took about a minute to mix. With a little more care the color match could have been made even more exact. Just for fun I've included another mixture that I'll use in place of tubed yellow ochre and golden ochre.



The mixture on the left is cadmium yellow medium and quinacridone violet. The one on the right is yellow ochre from the tube. You can vary the shade light to dark, yellow to golden depending on how much yellow or violet you use.
So, how about you? Do you have black in your line up of colors?

Monday, September 12, 2016

Building Your House on a Solid Foundation



©Theresa Grillo Laird - Officer's House- Gulf Islands National Seashore - oil on canvas - 24x30- click here to purchase

I met an artist last week, a woman who in her prior life had been a highly successful architect. Working in a traditionally male field, she had reached a level of international success that any man would be proud to list as his life's accomplishment. Entirely self made, she had started from a very humble beginning attending school while waiting tables and supporting her children.

I love success stories so I asked her how she threaded the path to fulfillment and prosperity. She is a gracious woman and immediately said part of it was serendipity. But as I listened it was apparent how much her success was due to intelligent foresight, determination and good decision making about the options in front of her. 
I wondered, considering the many people have these qualities yet haven't ascended the heights of success in their field.I guess she perceived what I was pondering because she suddenly said- You know, if I was to give one piece of advice it would be to have integrity. She said self integrity had been her hallmark from early on and clients recognized the standard she held herself to.

So, what is integrity? Honesty? Doing what you say you will when you say you will? Not cutting corners?
I can see how all these things would apply in business, but in art?? Though highly admirable qualities to have, they don't seem to be what would put you over the top in the very crowded field of artists.Then, bingo! She added, In art that means to be true to your vision no matter what everyone else around you is doing. Hold to the unique gift of perception and creation that you've been given, and work unswerving from within it. She said she had found that maintaining integrity had brought her an ever expanding success in a way that blowing your own horn doesn't.

So folks, words of wisdom from one who's been there. And something to remember the next time you find yourself banging your head against the wall trying to make something happen, or confronting the snake of artistic self doubt slithering across your path.

Tuesday, August 30, 2016

The people's parks turn 100!

 Gulf Islands National Seashore,© Theresa Grillo Laird -Golden Hour- 24x48 -oil on canvas
for purchase contact The Studio Gallery 
If I wasn't an artist, my perfect job would be working as a ranger in the National Park Service. What could be more amazing than greeting everyday surrounded by the beauty of nature! I think half the reason painters paint out in the open air (en plein air), is because being out in nature so perfectly revitalizes the creative soul.

Last week on August 25th, we celebrated the hundred year anniversary of the National Park Service. I'll forever be grateful to Teddy Roosevelt for his vision and foresight in preserving lands for future generations!



In Pensacola, we have the good fortune to live in a town with a National Park. The Gulf Islands National Seashore stretches from Mississippi to Florida in parcels of coastal land and barrier islands. Parts of it like Horn Island in Mississippi, made famous by artist Walter Anderson, can only be accessed by boat. 

Minus a boat, I explore my park on foot, which in my opinion is the best way. It's slow enough that you can take in all the details and side paths that you miss with faster modes of travel. 

Gulf Islands National Seashore - ©Theresa Grillo Laird - Just Passin' Through- oil on linen 14x18
click here for purchase
Until I moved here, I'd never seen coastal land like this. Sugar white sand covers both the beaches and woodland paths, and is never hot underfoot despite the Gulf Coast's intense heat and humidity.The Gulf itself has crystal clear emerald colored water worlds apart from the bone chilling grey water of the Atlantic Coast. Various pines, live oaks, holly and wax myrtle cover the dunes and fill the coastal forest.

I particularly like the National Seashore in the Pensacola area. The land is bordered on one side by Pensacola Bay and on the other by the Gulf. One side has the beach and the other is full of coves that wind in and out for miles. There are dunes and marsh and fresh water ponds. The land seems to shimmer under the light of the Florida sun, and the scent of salt water and beach rosemary fills the air. Can you blame me for wanting to spend tranquil days hidden in the dunes with my easel and paints, peacefully attuned to the sights and sounds of my coastal Paradise?

Gulf Islands National Seashore - ©Theresa Grillo Laird - Through the Dunes - oil on canvas -  12x16
click here to purchase 

Monday, August 8, 2016

How Do I Start a Painting?



©Theresa Grillo Laird

Well, lately I don't have any one way. Sometimes I paint on a colored ground, sometimes I don't. Sometimes I block in a value pattern and build the colors up on top of it. Sometimes I cover the canvas in colors roughly of the shape of the objects then let the objects emerge from the field of colors. Lately I've been starting with my area of interest and building outward. Each method has it's advantages and drawbacks. 

One thing that does stay constant no matter how I begin is that I start with a very loose sketch in thin paint. The sketch is so loose that often it's hard for an onlooker to see what's there. But I know what the marks represent and they're enough to remind me of what I intended. I don't do a detailed sketch because it's going to get quickly covered up anyway.

So, let's take a look at these starts. Actually, each of these paintings are just a little bit past their beginning stage.


©Theresa Grillo Laird
This painting is part of a year long project to celebrate the centennial year of the National Park System. Go here to read about that project. As you can see, the painting was started on a toned ground. I've been working with a warm undertone, playing it against the cooler tones of the outdoors. One of the distinct advantages of working with a toned ground is that bits of the color show through the finished painting. This is especially useful when you're aiming to finish the painting quickly in one shot. Untoned, you get a lot of jarring bits of bright white showing through. You can barely see the original reddish sketch lines in the bottom right and between the unfinished houses in the background. With the shadow shapes changing rapidly, I started with the fort since I want it to stand out more than anything else. As I finished the walls, I painted the colors around them to make sure I had the values right.
Working section by section, rather than all over the canvas at once, I'll have to check that it all still works together when it gets close to the finish.


©Theresa Grillo Laird

Here's one, again on a toned ground, that started with value shapes. After the sketch, I blocked in the value and shapes of the land and coastal brush. From there I started applying colors keeping the colors lighter and greyer in the background. Next I'll focus on the area around the tree using stronger colors and thicker paint.


©Theresa Grillo Laird

This was not started on a toned ground. The advantage there is that the colors look the closest to how you've mixed them. The white of the ground shines through giving them a bright clarity that you don't get on a toned ground.You can just barely see the outlines of the original sketch in the tree reflection area. In this one I started right in with color focusing on getting the value relationship between sky and water, trees and tree reflections accurate.


©Theresa Grillo Laird
Finally here's one on an untoned ground.You can see the as yet shapeless strokes of different greens. To finish this one, I'll start pulling shapes forward and pushing other back using warm, cool and greyed colors. It's a fun way to work! Bit by bit the sense of depth and dimension comes to life in the scene. Right now the vegetation on the dune in the back and the vegetation in the foreground, read as being equally close to the viewer.

So, try different approaches. Study artists who teach to see how they begin a work, and choose what works best for you in whatever painting situation you find yourself in. And if you want to learn with me, now is the time to sign up for fall classes at Pensacola State College Continuing Ed.Click here for information.

Happy painting!









Saturday, July 16, 2016

Bluebird Rules

©Theresa Grillo Laird - Canyon Trail - oil on canvas - 16x18
ask about here

When I joined the Campfire Girls as a 7 year old Bluebird, I was handed a 10 item list of Bluebird rules to memorize. Most of the rules didn't stick in mind, but the one that has always stayed with me is "Remember to finish what I begin".
As a patient and focused kid immersed in my own inner world, the rule mystified me. Why wouldn't I finish something I'd started?

Now, all these years later, that phrase has so many more meanings.

Remember to finish what I began for my life at 20? How easy it is to get off track with life's unexpected twists and turns! Some of those twists are opportunities. Some are deep canyons that you can spend years trying to find your way out of.

Remember to finish art projects that started with such enthusiasm only to feel like chores several months down the road? At that point, you need to pause to recall why you were so enthused about the project in the first place. Do the same reasons still apply but there were more obstacles than you expected? Or was the original impulse flawed from the start?

Remember to finish mastering that skill that you know you still need in your artist's toolbox? Well, daylight's burning! Get on with it!

Remember to finish walking the path you began on that feeds your soul and makes you eager for what each day will bring?
Sometimes it's beneficial to stop long enough to take stock, and remember where you were heading before all those beckoning side paths opened up before you. If your beginning still has any meaning, discard any accumulated baggage that's impeding your progress. Simplify everything down to your one personal most basic thing, and remember to finish what you began.

How about you? Do you need to remember what to finish? Or even what not to begin?

Sunday, July 3, 2016

Not Just for Children

©Theresa Grillo Laird - Pensacola Pass - 14x18- oil on stretched linen
message me here for purchase

Painting in the National Park all day in solitary union with the elements, is like being a kid again when your only business was to play and take in the impressions of your world. Maybe that's why I keep being reminded of the early incidents that pointed the direction to the future...

I looked up the hill towards the evening sun. The summer- tall weeds and wildflowers were lit up with golden halos. Alive to every tiny detail surrounding the dilapidated sand box I sat on, I leaned against the gray wood of a fence post, my eyes tracing a weathered crack in the grain.
I glanced at my dad who was in conversation with his sister and her husband. I was aware that they had forgotten about me and that was the way I liked it. I was still young enough to be sent off to bed if they'd remembered I was there. So I sat quietly and took in the show of light that enveloped everything.The hour was dazzling, saturated with a haze of warm colors and lengthening shadows. Everywhere was gold, red, yellow and faded green, shimmering in the heat. Against all the color, the weather-worn fence post stripped of it's bark, glowed like platinum. I sensed I was experiencing a moment I would always remember, a moment different from all the other moments.
Over the years, I've been gifted with more of these ultra-real moments both in waking reality and in my dream world.  They're the atoms of the impulse to create. The artist's job is to illuminate the wonder of these moments by finding the way to transpose them to concrete form. I can't think of a better job to have!

Friday, June 17, 2016

Going Off Plan

©Theresa Grillo Laird - Coastal Forest - oil on linen - 20 x 32"
ask here for information

Old habits die hard. And that's the only excuse I can give for going off plan. I just finished talking about getting organized to spend the rest of the year painting the National Park in my hometown. My intent is to sketch the possibilities, take photos for any useful info the photo might contain, and paint on site. My plan has been working well, enabling me to complete each day's painting on site, while working section by section through the park. Last week, I set out with a larger canvas than usual, 20x32 to paint a stretch of marsh. Once on site, the marsh looked dull. That should have been the time to dig in my heels, exercise discipline and remember what attracted me to the scene in the first place. But the view to the right of brilliant white dunes topped by billowing clouds, beckoned. Seduced by the beauty, I just jumped in and began painting. I guess it's not surprising that I experienced the same problems that have happened before. I had to work my way through unexpected issues rather than being able to concentrate without interruption on just applying the paint. 3 days and a lot of frustration later, I had my painting. As for the marsh, the part of it I liked best fit easily onto a smaller canvas.

Going off plan isn't always problematic. Some of the most exciting discoveries happen when you find yourself in some place completely different from where you planned to be. 
When I was 5 and came upon my 4 year old brother drawing in blue crayon on a freshly white washed wall, my first impulse was to threaten to tell on him. He was so unconcerned with my taunts that it changed my intent. If fact he remained so blissfully centered on the enjoyment he was experiencing, that the next moment found me joining him. You can read about that day's artistic discovery in (this post) from a few years ago.

Anything that throws you off plan can sometimes be beneficial. A long time back I was painting a still life of tulips. I carefully drew the petals in paint then proceeded to methodically fill in trying to capture the color and transparency of the petals. I thought my controlled and thoughtful work would best capture their upright buoyant nature. In the middle of painting, I got into a furious argument with my spouse. I kept painting through the traded barbs, my mind a thousand miles from what my hand was doing. All of a sudden I stopped and looked, and was astonished that the very soul of the flowers lay there before me on the canvas! They were perfect and all apparently without the aid of my careful hand and analytical mind.

The best way to work seems to be with a balance of planning and discipline, along with a healthy measure of openness to the unexpected. The best plans still need some room to go astray so you never close yourself off from the thrilling accidents and discoveries that happen in unpredictable moments. 

Friday, June 3, 2016

The Day I Met Dirty Harry in the Gulf Islands National Seashore

©Theresa Grillo Laird - Beach Marsh - oil on linen - 18x24"
contact here for information
My painting spot was a long walk from the parking area. I'm still searching for a plein air easel that suits my needs - one that will accommodate a larger canvas or panel and that will hold my paints and brushes. Got any suggestions any of you plein air painters? My current easel is a standard french easel which when loaded up weighs about 18 pounds. The best I've been able to manage everything is to put the paints, thinner, paper towels, water, lunch, sunscreen etc into a backpack and carry the almost empty easel, canvas and umbrella. It's better, but I still can't get more than about a half mile before it all gets too unwieldy. So, after choosing a good painting spot last week, I figured I'd unload my gear roadside before leaving to park. I didn't want anything to walk off in the meantime, so I looked around and spotted a bush 20 feet off the road that I could put everything behind. 

I love painting in the National Park! It's mere minutes from my house. I don't know what twist of fate brought me here. As Maria sings in The Sound of Music, I must have done something good.
Even though the land couldn't be flatter- the highest point in town is about 45 feet above sea level, it's incredibly beautiful. The sand is white, not tan like the east coast or volcanic dark like the west. It's actually pulverized quartz washed down from the Appalachians. In the twilight it glows like snow. And unlike the steel grey water of the east coast, the hues here are emerald green and sapphire blue and are crystal clear. Within a half mile in any direction you can find beach, dunes, marsh and coastal woods full of holly, pine and live oaks. In summer it's hot and very humid but there are always coastal breezes to cool things off. In short, it's a kind of Paradise. 

As I quickly unloaded in a spot I technically shouldn't have stopped in, a couple on a motorcycle came up behind my idling car. He looked like a long haired version of Clint Eastwood in his Dirty Harry days. The woman with him seemed tailor cast as his perfect partner. He stopped, and with a Dirty Harry look of you better not be messing with my day, looked me straight in the eye and called out "Hey are you putting bags of garbage there?" The woman spotted The National Park Volunteer cap on my head and the blank canvas sticking out of the car trunk and quickly assured Harry that I wasn't up to anything nefarious.

Like most artists who paint nature's beautiful places, I feel a strong sense of stewardship and of ownership of the land. I'm ever ready to protect it. It's nice to know that the person you would least expect, feels equally fierce about preserving the parks that truly belong to us all. 

Saturday, May 28, 2016

Eliminating the Unexpected

©Theresa Grillo Laird - On the Tip of the Island - oil on linen - 18x24"
I stood in front of my chosen painting spot and turned slowly around 360 degrees. The abundance of possibilities was overwhelming. I was suddenly flashed back to the time when I was 4 years old and had been given a bewildering task with no clue of how to complete it.

..."Give this to your cousin George" the unfamiliar lady commanded me. It was Christmas time and I had just been handed a present and given my marching orders. The only problem was, I didn't have a cousin George. "You mean my cousin Eddie?" I asked, tossing absurdity back to her since I knew my cousin Eddie wasn't there. "No! George!" She turned away and I sat with the present on my lap and pondered the problem. Once again these troublesome adults weren't making a bit of sense. I knew better than to argue or disobey and obviously I was expected to know how to do what I'd just been told to do. People were gathering around me excitedly ripping open packages. One after another they held up their treasures shrieking "look what I got!" A smiling lady urged me to open "my" present. I hesitated.

What has this all got to do with plein air painting you might ask? Standing out in nature surrounded by an abundance of possibilities, can leave you feeling as bewildered and paralyzed as that 4 year old. How many times have you set out to paint, full of high hopes? You know you want to paint and the possibilities are everywhere. You set up and rush in hoping your painting will capture some of the kid-in-a-candy-store excitement you can barely contain. But too often, you fall short. You take all the steps you think you're supposed to but the result is not what you expected. 

..."Go ahead! Open it!" the lady repeated. I tore into the package and held up it's contents. "Look what I got!" I exclaimed, faithfully following the example of everyone else. Though I held up a pair of boys corduroy pants, I didn't expect was the chorus of laughter that followed.

When I decided to spend the year painting the National Park in my home town for the centennial year of the National Park Service, I realized I needed to get a bit more organized with my thoughts if I was going to get the result I anticipated. On my first day out, I stood at the ready surveying the beauty of white sand and emerald water, coastal marsh and live oak forest. The multitude of choices temped  me to open my paint box, but instead I used the day to walk around making rough sketches, and taking photographs. The sketches, like this one used for the painting above, were barely more than scribbles



but they were enough to know whether the scene would work in paint. The photos were to study at home to compare with my initial impression. They were disappointing because they flattened the scenes compressing the sense of depth. They were so different from what my eye saw that if I had to judge the worthiness of the scenes from the photos only, I wouldn't have painted them.


For the rest of the year, I'll take the time to walk, choosing spots and sketching first. It definitely helps eliminate some of the unknowns of outdoor painting.

Monday, May 16, 2016

Eureka! I've Found the Secret!

You remember how it was when you were a kid and the first day of summer vacation inched closer and closer. You could barely sit still at the thought of being freed from the dusty smells and confines of the classroom. Swimming, running free out in nature, family camping vacations - visions of all the possibilities of the coming months crowded each other out in the rush of joyous anticipation.

I feel like that right now!

©Theresa Grillo Laird - Sun Dance - 12x16" - oil on canvas panel
contact me here for information 

Is the change of season responsible for this expectation of good things to come? Or is it the gift of time that has given me renewed optimism? Like the school child released from the demands of study and exams, I've been relieved from responsibilities that took much more of a toll on creative energy than I expected. Yet even this isn't the reason for renewed energy. Neither is the excitement of returning to a project I had to abandon last fall of a year of painting the national park that's practically in my backyard. 

My joy comes from a lightening bolt of crystal clarity that hit me when I chose to listen to the voice quietly speaking from deep within, rather than heeding that insistent voice that seems to exist just to goad me with all the things I'd be missing if I didn't follow the course I  thought I needed. 

Freedom! Now with the enthusiasm of a 10 year old on the first day of summer vacation, I've again headed out into the national park, excited to take up work, confident of my path and certain that I'm not missing anything I need. I'll show you some sketches of possible painting spots I found last weekend, in my next post. Above is a plein air sketch from the day. 




Thursday, May 12, 2016

How I Got into My First Gallery... and several since

Before I get every gallery owner howling, I need to preface this post with "kids, don't try this at home!"  
Galleries and marketing gurus will tell you that you can't just walk into a gallery unannounced with your paintings tucked under your arm. But that's exactly what I did. Well, almost.

I live in a casual coastal environment where big city rules of engagement often don't apply. There's a slower pace of life here, an unrushed gentility, and business is often still conducted with a handshake.


©Theresa Grillo Laird -Dunes and Fences -oil on canvas-30x40"
to purchase contact the Studio Gallery

When I started looking for gallery representation, I chose a city about an hour and a half away that had a reputation for being art friendly. I spent the day walking around visiting galleries to get a feel for each one. I wanted to see what kind of art they carried, how it was displayed and how the staff approached me, a potential art buying customer. I also wanted a gallery that didn't depend on a side aspect, like framing, to carry the gallery.

The first gallery I walked into almost looked like a garage sale. The paintings hung on dividers scattered about in a haphazard maze, and were so closely spaced that it made me dizzy to look from one to the next. The next gallery had beautiful art nicely displayed, but the staff, framing works behind a counter, didn't even look up to acknowledge my presence. The gallery I chose looked like a gallery. It had enough space to walk around and to step back to view the fine art . The art was hung in a way that had a kind of flow to it. Nothing was jarring or haphazard looking.Within a minute of walking in, the owner walked up to me, smiled and introduced himself. I knew I'd found the place I wanted to represent me.

When he learned the reason for my visit, I asked if I could show him a couple of pieces I'd left in my car. He agreed and accepted the pieces for the gallery. I wish I could say that this wonderful start to our relationship which resulted in sales to good collections, is carrying on to this day. But over time the owners started spending less and less time in the gallery leaving me in the embarrassing position of sending clients there just to have them come back and tell me the gallery was closed. I eventually pulled my art out. I guess that's the downside to casual environment galleries.

I've had my work in several galleries that I approached in a similar manner. For some, I followed the route for submission that they requested on their website. Others I just walked into. Of course I know better than to stroll into a big city glitzy gallery and expect the same thing to work.

The point is that there's no one way to achieve an objective whether it's finding your artistic voice, carving out a living in art or gaining gallery representation. Everyone's art journey, like their spiritual journey is unique and deeply personal. It's useful and interesting to see how others have done it, but ultimately you're on a solo path. And to me, not knowing what vistas will open up around the bend is what makes this fascinating journey so exciting!




Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...