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For the last two decades, Joe and I have made a pilgrimage West at least once a year—frequently in the Winter or early Spring.  Our destinations were Colorado and New Mexico, and we combined our love for the West with a visit to loved ones who live near Denver.

This year, the trip is not happening—but never mind.  My paintbrush travels to the High Rockies of Colorado, to the adobe houses of Taos and Santa Fe, NM, and to those fascinating Cliff Dwellings on the Four Corners.  Just as I never tired of traveling West, I will always love reading about the West via documentaries, histories, and Louis L’Amour novels.  And likewise, I probably will never tire of painting the West.

My favorites of L’Amour’s novels are those mysterious tales of lost canyons, valleys, and ancient cities in the regions surrounding the Cliff Dwellings.  My mind paints as I read, and eventually the paint materializes on paper.  Hence the above pair—Lost Valley of the Ancients I & II.

The paintings are propped on another passion of mine—my piano.  A collection of Scott Joplin rags peeks over the painting on your right as you view the photo.  Playing a Joplin rag never fails to make me smile!  Such mellow music, with soul! 

To the left of Scott Joplin, sits my venerable book of classics by Mozart, Schubert, Chopin, Beethoven, etc., which are infinitely satisfying to play.  (That’s why they are classics!)  The book was my mother’s, and it dates to the late 1920s or early 30s.  Not only did she gift me with her love for music, and of course the music lessons, but she left me the actual music books to enjoy.  My fingers don’t flow as effortlessly across the keys as hers did, but with practise I can play.  Mom would be pleased! 

Meanwhile, with books, paints, and a piano I really don’t need a “vacation”!  It’s all here, at home!  :)

Margaret L. Been, ©2012

Okay, I did it!

I gave into the gnawings of my hyper-active conscience.  Even after posting a disclaimer on each YUPO® painting, stating that the picture would prevail through the ages if no one would touch it with wet fingers, yesterday I took approximately 60 YUPO paintings out of their see-through sleeves, sprayed the pictures with Blair 100® fixative, allowed the paintings to dry, and put them back into their see-through sleeves.  This stuff really works, dries quickly, and within minutes you can touch the painting with a wet finger—if that is something you are longing to do.  (You could spit on it, as well, but that wouldn’t make me very happy.)

The above-mentioned 60 were mainly paintings which I have tagged for sale in a possible showing, or here in my home gallery.  In another bin are at least 40 more paintings on the controversial glass-like surface, and soon I will spray those with the Blair.  But only a few at a time.  I did the first 60 in one rampage—whisking 3 or 4 at a time out to the garage, spraying them up and down and all around, whisking them back into the house to air on a flat surface (our bed!), and whisking the next increment out to the garage.

Later in the day I began to wonder why I was feeling bizarre.  I felt unsteady on my feet, light headed, and generally weak and ill.  Flu?  Sinuses?  Then I realized that I probably had the Blair 100 fixative disease after exposing my respiratory system to dose after dose of the stuff.  I did wear a mask for the last 2 sprayings, but hey—what good did that do, to lock the barn after the proverbial horses had been stolen?   

My husband, children, grandchildren, and Pembroke Welsh corgi are the most well tended and fussed over individuals imaginable—but sometimes I think I’m missing on a cylinder when it comes to common sense for myself!  I’m asthmatic, and would have benefited from wearing the mask the entire time—as well as not doing all 60 paintings in one day, to say nothing of trying to protect my eyes with brand new lenses via cataract surgery.  I never even thought of wearing goggles for the procedure.  What if the little hole on the sprayer had been aimed wrong?  At my new eyes!  Oh well, next time!

After the fact, I read all the fine print on the Blair can.  Yikes!  So I’m pleading with you, dear reader.  If you decide to fix your paintings, please do fix yourself first!  :)  

Meanwhile, I lived through the frenzy of spraying and woke up this morning to create the above experimental rendering.  It’s called “Wisteria Hysteria”.  I have some fake wisteria hanging in our bedroom, and I have a thing about that lovely vine—possibly because of the English film, ENCHANTED APRIl, where 4 women flee from rainy/foggy London for a month at a villa in sunny Italy where the wisteria is blooming all over the place.

And guess what kind of a surface “Wisteria Hysteria” is painting on?  You’ve got it—YUPO!

Margaret L. Been, ©2012

If you consult GOOGLE with this question, “Should YUPO® paper be preserved with a fixative spray?” you will find different opinions.  Since YUPO® is a glasslike surface, it is not absorbent.  Therefore, watercolor paint can be removed from the surface, WITH WATER.  Once the painting is dry, a firm application of water can disturb the paint.

Last week I met a woman who had recently tried painting on YUPO for the first time.  She was absolutely incensed, because after her YUPO® painting had dried she dabbed at it with a wet finger and the paint lifted on that spot.  I tried to explain that there is no rationale for poking a picture with a wet finger, but she refused to consider my point.  She countered, “What about rain?” 

Again, I tried to reason that no one in their right mind would leave their paintings out in the rain, and anyway the moment a painting is thoroughly dry it gets matted, adhered to a backing board, and protected from the elements in a clear plastic sleeve—the size of the mat—until time to frame the picture.*  This was something completely out of my friend’s realm of experience, so she decided to declare war on YUPO® paper.

Some time ago, I did consult GOOGLE on the question of to fix or not to fix when painting on this slippery synthetic surface.  On various online forums, most watercolor hobbyists claim that they do use a fixative, or if they don’t go that route they simply use the YUPO® medium for experimenting and playing rather than actually creating a painting.  Since the paint may be removed from YUPO® an infinite number of times, you could spend a lifetime painting on one sheet of it—if you were not serious about making and sharing art. 

But I am serious.  And I love my YUPO®.  So I took the comments of casual hobbyists with the proverbial grain of salt, and went to websites featuring the QUEEN OF YUPO®, professional artist Taylor Ikin.  Taylor does not like to use a fixative spray, and will only do so when the painting is going to be handled by an outside framer—to deflect the possibility of carelessness in the process of framing.  When a picture is to be framed by someone else, Taylor Ikin sprays only around the edges of the painting.  Like me, if she doesn’t frame immediately she instead secures her matted painting in that indispensable product, a clear plastic sleeve—where it can safely remain forever, or until transferred to a frame.

According to Taylor, the work done on YUPO® is as safe as any other watercolor painting.  Without a direct and firm application of water, the paint will not run or diffuse, even in humid Florida where she lives.  (Taylor Ikin has YUPO paintings in her bathrooms in Florida!) 

And quite categorically, you would not leave a painting on 140# rag paper out in the rain either—just as you wouldn’t go dabbing at the picture on rag paper with wet hands.  In weighing these thoughts, it dawned on me that pastel art is far more fragile than anything we can do with watercolors—either on a rag or synthetic surface.  Pastel dust will flake off inside the frame.  Pastel artists go to great lengths to blow (sometimes by machine) the surplus dust off their works before framing them. 

No serious pastel artist ever wants to use a fixative on the top layer of chalk (although they sometimes spray between layers so that they can continue building color without creating mud) because spraying the final layer would most definitely dull or darken the colors.  So gallery owners simply have to cope with the potential glitch of pastel dust in their hangings—far more of an issue than the virtually non-existent threat of water getting into a framed watercolor painting on YUPO® paper.

Nonetheless, being a bit overly conscientious, I typed up a little statement to include with every YUPO® painting that I sell or present as a gift—saying that because this archival, environmentally friendly surface is non-porous it will not absorb the paint the way traditional watercolor papers do.  In the blurb, I included these words:  “It may be assumed that you will not be driving a truck over your painting, touching it with wet fingers, or pouring hot chocolate on it.  Therefore the painting will last behind glass for many generations, even centuries.  Matted with a standard size mat and backing, this work of art may be safely kept in its protective envelope until you transfer it to a ready-made frame under glass.”

I hope that disclaimer will ward off even the most inveterate painting-pokers with wet fingers.  

Margaret L. Been, ©2012

*I buy standard size mats and backings with plastic sleeves that fit each size.  These are economical, and I cannot imagine doing art any other way.  People can look at my paintings and safely handle them because of the protective sleeves.  In preparation for a show which I hope to present someday, I am framing paintings that I intend to hang in the show. 

Variety!

When I’m feeling peppy, I delight in venturing into uncharted territory.  That’s when the abstract shapes and surprising textures appear.  Yet there are days, and more likely evenings, when I’m weary.  Yet I still want to paint.

At weary moments, I persist in making art while celebrating beloved and familiar shapes and themes—those subjects where I can hardly miss, such as still lifes or trees.  Yet I’m constantly aware of trying to avoid clichés, overworked aspects of a piece which could potentially add up to ho-hum art.   My goal is to make every painting unique and different from any others I’ve done.

One way to prevent sameness in renderings is to vary color chords.  Tonight I decided to use black gouche—something I’ve never tried before.  I was instantly transported by the richness of black, and probably overdid it in the above painting titled “Dried Bounty”. 

Oh well, if I don’t overdo the black gouache in the next still life I won’t make a cliché of it!  :)

Margaret L. Been, ©2012

P. S.  Recently I ventured into new territory by selling a painting.  For a few days after that, I wasn’t aware of using my legs.  I floated!

“Water Media Art” rather than just “Watercolors” would be a better summary of what I love to do.  The above piece contains 4 different kinds of water media, all working together to produce interesting effects.

The twisted vines were created with Elegant Writer® pens, by SPEEDBALL.  These felt tip pens are incredibly fun.  You write or draw with them, and at this point your work simply looks like lines.  Then you go over the lines with a small damp round brush, and the lines activate into a painterly blur.  I bought the pens at our BEN FRANKLIN store, but any craft store which carries calligraphy materials will probably stock the Elegant Writer®.  I found black, green, blue, red, and brown pens. 

The watery blobs on the branches were formed by dabs of wet watercolor crayons.  I have a tin of 24 LYRA AQUACOLOR® crayons, and there are other brands. 

The dense clusters of magenta flowers (at least I think that’s what they are) were painted with gouache—an age old paint which I’m beginning to enjoy a lot.  Gouache is simply watercolor paint with white paint (which is opaque) added.  One can make gouache by adding white paint to any watercolor, but I purchased tubes from one of my online sources.  Most art paint manufacturers offer gouache.  The opacity of the gouache contrasts beautifully with transparent watercolor paints or crayons.  It can be used as is, or blended into watercolors for variations of tone and hue.  Not clear on this computer scanned version, but noticeable on my original, is the raised quality—rendering the feeling of velvet.  This texture appeared because I layered the gouache over applications of the watercolor crayons.  With gouache, one can build an impasto look, and even to a slight degree simulate oils  (Oils are forbidden fruit for me, due to lung issues.)

One “Buyer Beware” concerning gouache.  Unless you work in acrylics and have brushes set aside for that medium, make sure you do not buy an acrylic base gouache.  There are probably several brands, but the one I have seen is TURNER ACRYL GOUACHE®.  This would ruin your watercolor brushes.  However, any acrylic media can be used in connection with watercolors, watercolor pencils or crayons, and watercolor based gouache so long as you have separate brushes for the acrylics.* 

(I do use acrylics in my collages.  The permanent, stay fast quality of acrylic paint works well where many layers of paint and an assortment of extra materials are applied.  Many layers can be painted on without the danger of smudging.   I do my collage work on gallery wrapped canvas.  Rather than covering with glass, I apply 2 coats of acrylic gloss medium for archival purposes—and the piece will last.  Meanwhile, viewers can run their hands over the collages and appreciate the textures.)

Finally, the background in the above piece was dabbed with water and a few drops of watercolor paint.  Voilà!  Watercolor plus!

Margaret L. Been, ©2012

*Note:  Occasionally I apply acrylic Interference® paints by GOLDEN, to add a pearlescent glow to a watercolor painting.  But I am hyper about keeping the brushes separate, as my watercolor brushes are beloved—and they should last longer than I will!

I can dream!

Winter has finally arrived in Wisconsin.  The Northern counties were buried in snow a few days ago, and now we “Southerners” (just north of the Illinois border) are suddenly remembering what winter is all about.  Beautiful!  Pristine!  Cold!

The wind travels and moans through our lane, which is actually a wind tunnel between condo buildings.  I love the wind, so universal and all encompassing.  I could be on the Yorkshire Moors or Scottish Highlands, or at our home in Northern Wisconsin where the furies of winter rampage, and the wind would sound exactly the same.  For me, the music of wind is a lullaby at night and an invigorating motivator in the daytime.  

Winter wind means business.  It’s cold, brutal, unfeeling, and unforgiving.  Yet as I hunker down and enjoy the peace and respite of winter weeks indoors, I can dream of those winds to come—always howling through our wind tunnel, always sounding like wind, but heralding new seasons:  the March wind—boisterous, vandalizing, arrogant, and presumptuous; the April wind—capricious as an April Fool’s joke, yet whispering change; and the winds of May—melodious, enticing, redolant with lilacs.

Lilacs!  Yes, I can dream!  :)

Margaret L. Been, ©2012

Sharing Our Art

I’m bombarding most of my blogs with photos of our daughter Martina’s wedding to Sanmi on 12/30/11—because I am filled to the brim with joy!  So here is one more photo of the newlyweds, opening my gift to them—my painting titled “Downhill all the Way”.

You can check out more about the wedding on http://hiswordistrue.wordpress.com/  :)

Margaret L. Been, 2011—almost 2012 

Starry Night by Van Gogh

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             STARRY NIGHT, by Vincent van Gogh    ↑                           

Everyone knows the cliché, “Different strokes for different folks”.  Nowhere is the saying more literally applicable than in painting.  Painters differ on most everything to do with their art and craft, and brush strokes are no exception.  Some artists take pride in concealing brush strokes, so that paintings resemble slides on a screen, so popular back in the 1960s.  Air brushed painting is slick to a point of approaching perfection, and that’s okay if that’s what is desired.

I like to see brush strokes—the more obvious, the better.  Perhaps that is one of many reasons I love the Impressionists and Post Impressionists.  Their exuberant brush strokes defy camera representation.  In fact, the 19th century invention of the camera freed painters from the compulsion to replicate reality.  For centuries art had been a form of documentary.  How would we know what Henry VIII looked like if it were not for his court painter?  But for Holbein, we’d have to rely on written descriptions in order to visualize that corpulent monarch and his serial wives.

With the advent of photography, coupled with new tube paints convenient for plein air work, artists were finally able to explore their subjective responses to whatever they viewed.  Individuality replaced academic rules and strictures concerning style as well as subject matter.  Although well-known French oil painters led in the 19th century quest for individual expression, painters from other countries contributed to the growing art culture which focused on fragments of light, analysis of color, blurred backgrounds, and bold—often crude and choppy—brush strokes.

Photography is a fine art in itself.  Camera artists frequently use high tech settings to create painterly effects—now readily available on PC programs.  Although the airbrushed style of painting is certainly smooth and beautiful, the walls in my home crave texture.  I LOVE brush strokes!

Margaret L. Been, ©2011

The Third Day

“And God said, ‘Let the water under the sky be gathered to one place, and let dry ground appear.’  And it was so.  God called the dry ground ‘land’, and the gathered waters He called ‘seas’.  And God saw that it was good.  Then God said, ‘Let the land produce vegetation:  seed bearing plants and trees on the land that bear fruit with seed in it,  according to their various kinds.’  And it was so . . . . And God saw that it was good.  And there was evening and there was morning—the third day.”  Genesis 1:9-11; 12b-13  (NIV) 

Margaret L. Been

The Second Day

 

“Then God said, ‘Let there be an expanse between the waters to separate the water from water.’  So God made the expanse and separated the water under the expanse from the water above it.  And it was so.  God called the expanse ‘sky’.  And there was evening and there was morning, the second day.”  Genesis 1:6-8 (NIV)

Praise Him!

Margaret L. Been

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