I love the look of stained glass, but my overflowing supply cabinet and relatively small studio space tell me now is not the time to learn a new craft! So, I tried painting on *Grafix Dura-Lar to mimic the effect for now.
I used a combination of ink and acrylicsand lined it with Pebeo relief outlinerto get more dimension and a stained glass edge effect.
I’m happy with the way it turned out, and because the Dura-Lar is more portable than a heavy window, I can move the pieces around to different windows, easily make larger pieces or switch them out for seasons, etc!
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Adobe Fresco, a relatively new painting program has a neat brush that digitally mimics that flow of watercolors. I like the final effect, and it’s fun to see the water digitally “spread” in progress. Maybe I will try and capture a video to share. In the meantime, here are a few recent digital sketches using the Adobe Fresco watercolor brush.
I’m still having a great time going through my art supply stash and finding new ways to use things. This piece is a magazine clipping under plexiglass, both embellished with acrylic paint to make layers. Plus gel pen on the magazine page, and a tiny bit of holographic spray paint that’s hard to see in the photo, because I’m not used to working with spray paint and am being very cautious for now.
If you follow me on Instagram, you’ve seen my photos evolve from travel, art galleries and around the town stuff to nature and home, and that’s about it. I know I am not the only person to make such a shift. It’s really inspired my art, as well, not only in wanting to recreate some of the pretty spring scenes I have encountered, but also wanting to recreate a bit of a fantasy world to escape to in my mind.
I wish I could self isolate on that beautiful veranda behind flowering vines, with sparkles in the air!
An upside of the social distancing we are experiencing, is that there’s not much to entertain or distract me from my studio. When things get busy, it is one of the first activities to be pushed aside, which makes no sense, because when I am in there, almost immediately, I feel relaxed and productive. I think it’s human nature, or at least American nature, to feel that if something is “fun” than it isn’t work, and if it isn’t work, than it’s not as important as work. Even though I like my actual “work,” I am not immune to that attitude.
Anyway, I’ve been wanting to work with oil paint, but my studio supplies are getting out of control and I don’t want to buy anything new until I work on that. But I have oil sticks, pigment and oil binder. So, I decided to try making my own oil paint from pigment and safflower oil, and with a little oil mixed into oil stick.
There are so many ways that creative work can bring joy and satisfaction. I love being able to experiment with raw materials to make something new. I’m self aware enough to know that I am not the world’s best artist, and that’s okay. My creative satisfaction comes from the act of creating something completely new, whether it’s a piece of art, a rubber print block that I carved and used, or mixing up paint in an new shade or finish. I enjoy breaking things down to their component parts and then rebuilding them into something useful and custom-made.
In this chaos, for me at least, it’s going to be important to look beyond the usual for validation and happiness. Everything from client acquisition and feedback to social media measurement will dip, so those things aren’t accurate metrics right now. My business, like most businesses, will just have to be what it is for a little while, but I can regain some of that validation through my creative work. While I don’t know what life will look like on the other side of this, it really does help to identify healthy and creative things that I can control, and do more of those things while the world works itself out.
There wasn’t sparkly green, antique rose gold or sheer pink iridescent oil paint in my world before I went into the studio yesterday, and now there is. I can see it, mix it, paint with it, and finish the day knowing that I built one small thing that does what it’s supposed to do.
When I was growing up, our church hosted First Friday potluck dinners. They were a chance for all of us from the satellite communities around our town to come together outside of Sunday services, and they often went late or included an activity for us kids afterward. For at least a few Decembers, that activity was a Bird Tree, balls of peanut butter, bird seed, sunflower seeds or other treats that a bird would like, plus soft yarn for nests and other things. We took our work very seriously, and hung each finished ornament with great care before devolving into slap fights and wrestling as was per usual. We weren’t a church that volunteered in soup kitchens or anything like that, but we were a country church that loved and served our community, even its feathered members. (And probably a few furry ones that enjoyed a spot of birdseed now and then.)
December is marketed as a time of joy, and of course it is. The birth of Jesus! The season of light!
To quote Lucy Van Pelt in A Charlie Brown Christmas: “You know, deck them halls and all that stuff?…You know, Santa Claus and ho-ho-ho, and mistletoe and presents to pretty girls.”
At the same time, it is a dark season for many people, including me. There’s a bittersweet feeling that comes each December. A coming to terms with the year that was and the present that is. A sense of an ending.
But I think that is normal.
After all, it is an ending. And if there wasn’t an understood, collective darkness, then we would not have so many songs, verses and stories about bringing light. The new year itself is a promise of light. The manger story is one of darkness and light. The two coexist at this time of year in almost every cultural touchstone that define it.
We are wired for the mixed emotions that many of us feel as we drink cocoa, sing carols and also miss our loved ones or feel apprehensive about the year ahead.
So, what’s the solution, then? I think the solution, as with many things, is to accept it. Lean into it and feel your complicated feelings. Know you’re not alone.
Look around you and see who you can serve, where you are and with what you have. Make a bird tree. Watch them flock to enjoy it, and then let them fly away.
I recently discovered the process of incorporating plexiglass into art projects to create a layered look. I tested it out using old hymn sheet music, acrylic paint and gold Pebeo Vitrail stained glass outliner.
I’m happy with the way it turned out and have plans for more of these! The challenge is in finding the best way to frame them, especially if I were to offer them for sale. But creating it is the fun part, and I’m excited to move forward with that!
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