Wednesday, April 20, 2011

A Good Session


Passover could not have come at a better time. Yesterday was a day off of work in observance of the holiday, which meant I would have a nice chunk of undisturbed time to paint. It was an incredibly stormy, moody day. So much the better. I loaded up the disk player with all sorts of quiet music including, I almost hate to admit this, George Winston’s “Autumn” album. I have not listened to this since my wistful college days and I enjoyed it every bit as much yesterday as I did yester-year.  You can listen here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MnE6QyL_tF0

I spent a very happy, peaceful 3 hours in my studio, which I like to think of as “my own little corner,” just like Cinderella in her own little corner and her own little chair. I did not set out to paint a beach scene, but when I looked at all those yummy colors of paint and started thinking about how to capture the early years of Chipper’s and my life together, the beach in Israel across the street from my rented house came to mind. 


So I painted it as best I could remember it. Admittedly, the colors are flat and the area will need to be worked some more, but I captured it. We used to walk the beach - 10 miles south to Netanya where I’d shop in the shuk and then take a taxi home - dog, groceries and me piled into the back seat. We used to spend evenings on the beach at the little hut that served my favorite coffee - cafe afuk - or sometimes I’d have a beer as the sun set and Chipper dashed around the beach just happy to be a dog. Such good memories.


I spent a lot of time working in this area of the painting, which is hard for me to believe now because it doesn’t look like much. When I finally stepped back to assess my work, I was overcome. Somehow I had captured the spirit of the place. I miss my beast.

So I have thoughts about how to add to this vignette. I am thinking of the painting now as a series of vignettes. It will be a timeline of sorts (going right to left as one reads Hebrew). When I first started with those horrible orange wavy things (see my first two blog posts) I thought I was going in the direction of an abstract painting, especially since I am pleased with my mostly recently completed painting, “Mystic.” 


But, I seem to be going in the direction of something more literal. 

The next vignette is going to be a sunny background with a pecan tree. I had a large, statuesque pecan tree growing in front of my little house in Bet Herut, and that miserable dog of mine would try to snatch up the fallen pecans before I could. The way to open a fresh pecan is to place two nuts in one hand and squeeze them together. It was perfect - they’d both crack open and I’d eat one nut and give the other to Chipper. We both enjoyed our pecans, that we did. I still love pecans.

As I was contemplating how to make the transition from the beach scene to the yellow background, I looked across the road to Eagle Creek Reservoir. I could hear coyotes howling - pretty incredible in the middle of the day - and thought about all of the happy times Chipper, Zeke and I spent on the beach right outside my window. So this painting would not be complete without representing the reservoir somehow. The road is an important part of it, metaphorically and realistically, so I am going to paint it into the foreground to transition across several of the vignettes. All of the orange and yellow swirls above the road will be gone.


But, I am getting ahead of myself here. 

I ordered a ton of paint so I could return the paints I have to Joani, who so very generously loaned me her supply. Each day I open the front door expectantly (think of Chipper with her ears perked up) and when I find nothing on the porch, the disappointment is palpable (ears flopped down). I know my paints will be here in a day or two, and then I can really go to town. Or at least that is what I tell myself.
Zeke is off to his annual Colorado mountain climbing-hiking-cycling-male bonding venture with his dear friend, Bill. That leaves me a whole week to keep odd hours. I do that when he’s not home. Instead of piling into bed at our usual 9:30 pm and waking up before 5 am, I putter around - or paint - until late. I have a different sense of time when I am alone. I anticipate a week of visiting with girlfriends, but also of painting. I’d like to make a big dent in this project by the time he comes home next Saturday.

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