Painting under the influence
Unlike a lot of artists I know, I like to paint in a quiet studio. I adore music, always have, but I generally find it to be a distraction when I'm painting.
But this morning a dear friend sent me a video of people singing "It is well with my soul" into their cellphones, and the music was so glorious that I kept playing it as I painted this morning -- and this is what emerged.
I suspect the reason the music moved me so is because that's my heritage: my parents were very active Presbyterians and sang in their church choir, so from the time I was two until I left home I was in church every Sunday and at choir practice every Wednesday evening. And somehow, out of those early experiences, harmonies like these -- however old-fashioned this song may be -- seem to resonate in my soul.
And at times like these, when so much is in flux, I suspect it's natural to turn for comfort to the familiar. That said, I'm still trying to push myself out of my comfort zone a little at a time, so I embarked on this painting choosing unfamiliar colors (Anthraquinone blue, Indian yellow, and a brand-new bottle of Benzimidazolone yellow), and instead of starting, as usual, with the darkest color, I started with the lighter yellow, then added the Indian yellow, then the blue, and last of all the white.
I began in horizontal mode with this ugly old painting, one of several I'd attempted in response to a commission last year, and then kept rotating it around, adding whatever seemed needed for balance in each position, and what you see above was the end result. I'm pleased with the way it evolved, and I've decided to call it Peace like a River, in honor of the song.
Thank you, friend David, for offering such comfort in trying times.
Learnings: Try starting with the lighter colors first.
Anthraquinone blue, Indian Yellow, and Benzimidazolone yellow make a lovely green.
With the addition of a little white, you've got the color of the sea around the San Juans.
But this morning a dear friend sent me a video of people singing "It is well with my soul" into their cellphones, and the music was so glorious that I kept playing it as I painted this morning -- and this is what emerged.
I suspect the reason the music moved me so is because that's my heritage: my parents were very active Presbyterians and sang in their church choir, so from the time I was two until I left home I was in church every Sunday and at choir practice every Wednesday evening. And somehow, out of those early experiences, harmonies like these -- however old-fashioned this song may be -- seem to resonate in my soul.
And at times like these, when so much is in flux, I suspect it's natural to turn for comfort to the familiar. That said, I'm still trying to push myself out of my comfort zone a little at a time, so I embarked on this painting choosing unfamiliar colors (Anthraquinone blue, Indian yellow, and a brand-new bottle of Benzimidazolone yellow), and instead of starting, as usual, with the darkest color, I started with the lighter yellow, then added the Indian yellow, then the blue, and last of all the white.
I began in horizontal mode with this ugly old painting, one of several I'd attempted in response to a commission last year, and then kept rotating it around, adding whatever seemed needed for balance in each position, and what you see above was the end result. I'm pleased with the way it evolved, and I've decided to call it Peace like a River, in honor of the song.
Thank you, friend David, for offering such comfort in trying times.
Learnings: Try starting with the lighter colors first.
Anthraquinone blue, Indian Yellow, and Benzimidazolone yellow make a lovely green.
With the addition of a little white, you've got the color of the sea around the San Juans.
WOW, this is extraordinary! And chapeau! - for having the grace and courage to welcome the new colours, and to get close enough to them to realize this work. And once again, as so often, i find myself hoping that this is a gigantic canvass because there is so very much in the work. Brava, dear Diane, Brava!
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