Someone told me recently that I should be working on my art for me, not to seek recognition. Huh. Does it mean something bad about me that I see no reason to make art that I don’t intend to share? To seek recognition implies, I think, a desire for accolades. I do seek recognition, but literally just that — to be recognized. I see no reason to tell this story to myself, as I already know it. I want to tell it to you.
I pulled a picture from my flash drive to paint, from another chromatic fog type planet. I like these for their deep shadows and high contrast, and the strange and somewhat creepy effects of color and light.
I want to paint more large, dark areas — the chromatic fog planets are the place for that. I’ve been using a combination of lamp black and Sakura Pigma Micron pens for shadows, but I’d really like to get a tube of mars black. I’m partial to granulating paints, especially for shadows.
I did most of the background with blends of Schmincke Horadam Aquarell Volcano Violet, again, I love granulation. I do kind of wish I’d done a really light wash of cadmium red under all of it, but I still like it quite a lot. I’ve almost gone back in a few times with some more detail but have managed to hold off so far.
It’s prettier in person, but I guess they all are.
I only have space for eight more paintings in this little Moleskine notebook. I’d been considering switching to the landscape format for my next one, seeing as I paint landscapes, but I’m kind of attached to the crease, making all of my larger washes just that little bit more difficult. I have a print from a watercolor artist I admire that’s taken from a sketchbook like this. The format does lend an air of adventure. Maybe instead of switching, when I finish this one I’ll replace it with one of each.
Meanwhile, the cat is still adjusting to the change in weather. Getting any painting done is a matter of negotiation.
This is only her second winter, and she’s grown accustomed to at least one, sometimes as much as two hours of prowling the yard per day. There is excess energy to contend with on the modified winter outdoor adventure schedule. Sometimes a walk bundled in her backpack has to be settled for, and sometimes I let her out on the leash after, to hop around in the leaves, or sit on the railing of the deck and stare at the garden for twenty minutes.
If you’re wondering, she does seem to like the sweater. I think she understands that it gets her what she wants, which is to stay outside longer. In the summer I bet she’d stay out all day if I let her. But once the cold sets in, she leads me to the back door when she’s had enough.
Today, the painting revealed itself between walk breaks and play breaks and tea breaks and instant oatmeal. I ran around the house with the cat while the layers dried, playing hunt and chase, animating her toys while she parkoured off furniture and tore in wide arcs across the rug to pounce.
Once she lay tuckered and panting I tossed her a kicker to gnaw on and went back down the the workshop to lay in the detail.
When I was finishing my post last week, I wrote myself a note with all of the tags I’ve been using so far and stuck it to my computer monitor like a soul patch, for future reference. And then I sat and stared at it for a while thinking . . . who is this for? Not just for me, surely. What would be the point?
Dear blog gods
If there’s someone out there
who wants to read a blog like this
Help me to think of the tags
that will lead them to me
Here’s another piece of recent unsolicited advice, from a different source, offered while I stared sullenly out a passenger side window: You don’t have to be something. You can just live.
Like I’m not trying to be contrary, but again, does it mean something bad about me if I do have to be something? Because I do.
adventures 
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