Painting Continues

“Every artist was first an amateur.”

Ralph Waldo Emerson

As the painting continues I faced as series of challenges. As if a still life had not been enough now I faced a landscape and then, even worse, a portrait.

The landscape, seascape for me, was from a photograph taken at the Treshnish Islands. After puffin watching I took a photo looking away from the sunset towards Iona and the hills of Jura beyond.

The technique this time involved applying the main colours in sweeping strokes to create a base for the detail. Try as I might I could not get the colour mixing right. A horrible yellowy green did however offer me a valuable lesson. With oil paint you can simply rub it off and have another go, thank God.

This painting was to be my nemesis, I hated it. For several weeks in a row I wanted to give up and run away. Mixing, applying, wiping off over and over while the rest of the class surged on almost brought me to tears.  Eventually I got there, and then came the detail.

“Twist the brush like this Mairi.” I just couldn’t do it.

I wanted to throw my brushes across the class, stamp on the painting and storm out. Thank God for the little park at lunch time, she saved me. More wiping off ensued. Eventually something did click and little waves emerged. I ended up painting that scene twice once in class and once at home just to satisfy myself I could do it. Turns out that if I want to do landscapes, which I don’t, I can. Who knew? Not me.

And then a portrait.

I had been reading about Platon’s assignment to photograph Putin. So yes, that is who I painted.  Recently a friend’s husband asked why on earth we have a picture of Putin on our walls. I’d forgotten he was there, he’s kind part of the furniture now.

As the term drew to a close I dared to share some of my painting ideas with my tutor. Firstly I showed him my cracked head to which he said, “that’s a bit obvious.” Ouch. He then explained, my sketches are a starting place, the thing is to develop the idea. He suggested I set to sketching cracked and broken things, which I dutifully did.

And finally I have to mention travel. That autumn we had a lot of storms and torrential rain. Most weeks trains were cancelled which meant either going to Glasgow earlier than planned and then often waiting an extra 2 hrs for a train home.

The worst occasion turned a 3 hr journey into 7!  We set off ok, but got stuck at Crianlarich due to flooding on the line. A replacement bus took forever to arrive and then proceed to go to ever single train station despite the fact we were all going to Glasgow. It was in the contract apparently.

As luck would have it I struck up a conversation with delightful woman who turned out to be a portrait artist. You can’t make this stuff up. We talked art, dysfunctional families and therapy all the way. She also gave me a gift,  “I think you are very courageous facing all your painting demons and doing it anyway.” I am. It’s been torturous.

I’m aware I haven’t got to the seaweed bit yet, it comes in the next term, the next thrilling installment of me and my painting.

You want to see Putin? Really?

Most of my class mates were spooked by this head emerging out of the darkness and never did understand why I painted him. What about you?

“There is no ‘right’ way to make art. The only wrong is in not trying, not doing. Don’t put barriers up that aren’t there — just get to work and make something.”

Lisa Golightly