That simple jar with a smooth coil insert sitting on my palette is the best brush-cleaning tool I’ve ever had. I have mine filled with Turpenoid and periodically poor off the clean stuff, wipe out the sediment that collects at the bottom (the coil is easily removed for access) and then refill with the same solvent. The write-up at Dick Blick Art Supply says:
Be kind to your fine art brushes!Stroking a brush across the smooth surface of the aluminum coil opens and separates the hairs for proper cleaning without damaging the fragile flags (the delicate split ends of brush hairs).
This heavy glass tank with a screw-on lid holds up to 12 oz (355 ml) of water, solvent or Silicoil Brush Cleaning Fluid.
Cheap at $6.00 a jar, this has probably already paid for itself in resurrected brushes.
Posted in haste, there’s a lot to do today now that the sun is out! Time to unearth the gladiola bulbs from winter storage down cellar, clean them of last year’s soil and roots, and decide on a color planting arrangement for Garden 2015. I’m thinking those red ones, var. Palm Beach, should go near the front.
Glads in a Blue Jar, 36 x 24, oil on panel, and a detail:
Quince from the College of the Atlantic garden, and sage leaves from my plot there this summer, oil on panel, 24 x 36:
We have so much snow on the ground that the thought of painting it makes me shiver. I’m making drawings of the dark spruce trees bending under heaps of pristine white, but as an antidote I’m finishing images from this summer. The crab apples are from the community garden and orchard at College of the Atlantic.
Crab Apples and Teapot, 24 x 18, oil on panel
I’ve been slowly working up to larger paintings since we moved into the new studio last winter. The larger space is helpful but there are other factors as well, such as brush size, paint consistency, and composition. Fortunately all those very disparate things seem to be growing together. This new painting is the next standard size up: 24″ x 36″ and seemed like a whole new country after working on 18″ x 24″ panels for years. Now that I’m working on a few pieces this size I can hardly wait to move up to 48 x 72!
Apples on a Yellow Cloth, 24 x 36, oil on panel
This awesome holiday drawing was done by our son, circa 1995.
There are details here that deserve commentary:
- We built this house when Boy was a toddler, so there some things have received more emphasis than they might have from a child that didn’t witness quite so much construction for instance – light switches. As in, hey – we now have electricity!
- Yes, we did store kayaks on hooks from the ceiling. In our defense, it’s a very small house with very high ceilings and it seemed like a good idea at the time?
- Snow falls off that steep metal roof like king-sized mattresses being dropped from 40′. It sounds like thunder and was obviously a big part of his childhood.
- Our neighbors were often in the front yard, spoiling for a snowball fight. I don’t remember the Darth Vader get-up but it’s possible.
- My partner is a landscape painter. That painting hanging on the wall is a pretty good reproduction of a Robert Pollien.
May your season now be merry, and may you have joyous records of the time spent before!
A still life of all the flowers that grow along the paths and roadways on the island: mallow, borage, goatsbeard (Aruncus), echinecea, sage, and thistle. I’ve made myself a note not to try borage again for a while – it was incredibly difficult to make sense of in the drawing!
Acadian Bouquet, 24 x 18 inches, oil on panel
New encaustic on the easel:
On Sundays I have time to heat the wax and really think through the layers I need to produce complex colors in layers of wax. Encaustic bears a great resemblance to printmaking media, in that each mark is finite and permanent; there is no moving the color around after that first brushstroke. Of course, our winter days are so short I don’t have enough daylight to take a photo of the finished piece until the following Saturday, but I’ll try to post these on a weekly schedule. Next up, a small white vase with a pink spider mum against a gray sky and an entirely new vocabulary of colors to learn.
Ecaustic paint is a mixture of pigment and beeswax, tempered with damar varnish and kept molten on a hot plate or griddle. Now that the temperature is dropping and snow is piling up on the studio stairs the thought of a cold November day spent leaning over warm dishes of fragrant wax is very tempting. My set-up consists of an electric pancake griddle, metal condiment dishes purchased in bulk from a restaurant supply store, and hog bristle brushes.
I use a 1:10 part mix of bagged damar crystals melted into plain, unfiltered beeswax. The damar is available from most art supply stores – don’t use damar varnish because it contains solvents. Filtered, bleached, and cleaned beeswax is also available. I use wax from my beehives and it’s VERY unfiltered so I do pick bees, sticks, and flower parts out of it occasionally.
You can purchase special encaustic painting surfaces but any sturdy, stable surface will do. Canvas and other fabric mounts will crack and peel when the wax hardens. This is an ancient technique and extremely durable when the surface is stable. Special paint and brushes are available, but honestly oil pigment (not more than 1:20) and regular bristle brushes work just as well. Make a place to rest your brushes on the heat source to melt the wax coating. Keep your fingers away from the metal ferrules – they will be very hot!
There are many detailed tutorials on the web on encaustic media. Most are very good on the basic steps but I’ve been disappointed in the imagery. Don’t assume that the wax somehow demands soft colors and undefined contours! This is the first in a series of bouquet paintings from Thuya Lodge, part of the Mount Desert Land and Garden Preserve on Mount Desert island. This piece will be available at their auction in 2015: Nasturtium in a Brown Vase, 16 x 12, encaustic media.
It’s November, and the garden is gray and cold so it’s time to finish up all those paintings I started of roses back in July and August! This one is Königin von Danemark (Queen of Denmark), a Portland rose introduced in 1826. It blooms all season – in fact it would probably be blooming right now except that the deer got to it a few nights ago. Very sad, but stay tuned for updates on an improved electric fence mapping project.
Roses in a Green Glass, 24 x 18, oil on panel.