Tulips and Daffodils, Day 2, Painting 2

Tulips and Daffodils 2, 2012, 21cm x 29cm, 8" x 11.5", India inks, oils, Moleskine folio Sketchbook.

My second portrait of the flowers, done yesterday. In my Mole. I had a rough internal day, and this little painting took far longer than it looks like it did. I rubbed out and re-did the vase many times, for instance, as well as the background. The India ink would not adhere to the wet oil paint, either, and thus I struggled through the hours. In the end, it didn't seem worth the effort. Some days are like that.

(I do laugh, though. If you know anything of my green fire, chthonic rhizome garden goddess, you might see her here. Entirely unintentional - but garden goddesses who are molecular frenzies, chlorophyll arias, are like that - one arm bent behind her hourglass figure in a blue strapless dress, her bosom bursting green stalks,  yellow daffodils and red tulips, no head, but you can't have everything... lol)

On the table, today, the tulips are fully opened and on the edge of wilting, their moment of glory passing, the daffodils are still singing, their stems  plunged in the vase of water, and I'm hankering to paint them all again. I think I'm ready to make the transition from working solely in my Moleskine Sketchbook to canvas. On the phone this morning checking canvas prices, wow, quite a range! A 16"x20" regular stretched and primed canvas sells for $7.-$12.00! Then I found an art store way downtown that had a 5-pack deal for $22.00. It meant a 6km hike, a huge shoulder bag, and my dog, with my badly sprained wrist, a bit fearful, but I couldn't leave my woofy honey at home!

Though the trip took awhile, with a few other stops, I returned with the purchased canvases. By that time the light was disappearing, but I did manage a rough sketch on a canvas. So... maybe another painting before the flowers drop away. Maybe.

                              

Self-Portrait Study 4, in pencil

Self-Portrait Study 4, 21cm x 29cm, 8" x 11.5", 2012, Moleskine folio Sketchbook, graphite.

'Nother one. The right side, from your view, is not too bad; not sure what happened to the other half. The nose is not too bad either. Pencil work like this is so delicate. I used a 2B technical pencil. Feeling closer to approaching the painting, though, and drawing on the canvas itself (my drawing has to be a good likeness even if I obscure it with layers of paint and various scratchings). This is my 4th study, done in the 7.5" distorted magnifying mirror that I bought at the dollar store yesterday. The light is daylight. Once again, too impatient to do the hair with its curls properly, though that would increase the likelihood of a better likeness.

This self-portrait in pencil took as long as it took to drink my first mug of coffee this morning. The Italian gold French-press coffee wasn't even cold when I'd finished (I do love my coffee). I am rather pleased with the drawing, after so many attempts to learn how to draw my aging self. I mean, I may look in the bathroom mirror in the mornings for 5 minutes, washing face, brushing teeth, applying tinted moisturizer and a touch of pencil grey eyeliner and some lip gloss. Who wants to look any longer than that?

The mirror distorts the face in a different way to the camera, so neither is perfect, but I am glad I persisted with using the mirror to draw from because at least the image I look at is breathing, looking, sipping coffee, and remembering to smile!

                              

Self-Portrait Study 3, in pencil

Self-Portrait Study 3, 21cm x 29cm, 8" x 11.5", 2012, Moleskine folio Sketchbook, graphite.

Just before shop closing I got the 'bright' idea to run out and try to find a magnified 'make-up' mirror, thinking my problem is that I can't see up close without readers (which I don't wear otherwise). I found a  7.5" diagonal mirror at the dollar store for $2.99! Distorted glass? -maybe. Then, on my way out with my dog, I stopped and thought, why not just try something quickly? Ha.

An hour later. The eyes resemble mine, but a bit big. Too lazy to do all those curls, indication suffices. After staring intently at the magnified mirror, and sketching what I saw, I ended up finishing my drawing holding the Moleskine sketchbook against my chest looking into a large mirror and drawing backhand what I saw reflected!

I've certainly got my desperate and perplexed look at how difficult doing damn drawing of myself is! I have a 30" x 40" canvas ready and waiting, but am trying to learn how to draw my aging face as we get acquainted again seemingly for new (since I haven't achieved a true likeness yet - resemblance, yes, yes, but....).

Onward, fearless artist(s!... :) :)

We traverse different versions of ourselves without a quizzical blink anyhow. Other people in real life never look quite like they do in photographs, and if you stand with them looking into a mirror, it's a whole other person again. I am always amazed by this - and yet, each 'image' is recognizably 'that person.' The real life person is three-dimensional, you almost never see anyone face-on like in a photo, but rather from various angles, and they are not cropped by the frames of the photo either, but full body in an environ. I find my reading of the curves and hollows and lights and shadows of a person's face is never anything like the camera's rendition, no matter what lighting or angles it captures. Some people are photogenic and look incredible in photos, while others who are beautiful don't photograph well, but mostly everyone kind of resembles themselves. The mirror image is always mind-blowing, though who can comment coherently on it? Stand at a bathroom mirror with your lover or family member or friend and see something of what they see and you'll understand what I mean. Truly, we are mysteries, not only to ourselves, but each other.

The body is unknowable. Our art, and photographs, and mirrors only offer approximations of who we are.