The Oil Painting Blog : how to paint

Being Human, and All That

Carolyn Henderson — Tue, 05 Feb 2013 05:11:00 GMT

"You know, it's not a sin to make mistakes, fail to succeed on the first (or 45th) try, or generally show that we're imperfect. The unspoken strictures that some businesses, churches, schools, other establishments place upon their members or employees make following the 10 Commandments look pretty darn easy." --From Start Your Week with Steve, the free weekly e-mail newsletter of Steve Henderson Fine Art.

Painting materials aren't free and time is precious -- that being said, if more artists would worry less about creating the perfect painting and more about experimenting as a painting artist and getting better at what they do and the painting techniques they employ, then they would sooner reach a consistency of quality as a painting artist and create artworks with which they are delighted, time after time.


It's a great big world out there, and we're a part of it. Dream big and work hard in your painting art. The rewards will follow. Diaphanous by Steve Henderson of Steve Henderson Fine Art.

But if you skip that stage -- the one where you practice and try and say, "Oh, what the heck; if I don't like it, I'm out a little paint, the canvas, some time -- but I've gained in experience and wisdom" -- then you'll find that you're so worried about perfection, that you never achieve it.

There are enough people in our lives expecting unrealistic things of us that we don't have to be one of them. Falling down isn't failure. Trying and not getting it quite right isn't tragedy. Doing something completely different, just because, isn't a waste of time.

Go for it. Grab a different painting brush. Use a color you usually avoid. Shake around your subject matter. Play with your paint and see where it takes you on the next step of your journey.

--Carolyn

Investing in Art

Carolyn Henderson — Tue, 08 Jan 2013 04:31:00 GMT

I love my Honda Fit. And while that may seem to have nothing to do with art, actually, it does.

You see, I drive my Honda Fit everywhere and in the process of its being used it gets dusty, the tires see wear, the interior windows next to where my Toddler sits get coated with whatever sticky stuff she's got on her hands and smears onto the glass. (I know. I don't want to know much more than that, either.)


Art pays off in happiness dividends. Instantly, a fine art painting or any other kind of art provides color, depth, and emotion to our life. Dancer by Steve Henderson of Steve Henderson Fine Art.

Honestly, if I kept my Honda Fit inside the garage and never drove it for, say, 10 years, it would look exactly the way it did the day I bought it and I could resell it -- maybe at a profit -- because it would be such a great investment!

But you know, people don't buy cars to keep as investments. They buy them to drive in them, and when it's the right car, like my cute, sassy, blazing barbecue orange Honda Fit, they enjoy the process.

If more people thought about making art this way, more people would own and enjoy painting art. But all of a sudden, when people look at a painting, they go into this "I Must Make a Profit on This" investment mode -- even if the artwork they're looking at is a limited edition print for $80. Somehow, they tell themselves, if they purchase this, they need to be able to resell it, ten years down the road, for $200, because that's what you do with art -- you buy it as an investment.

As an artist -- you've heard this before, haven't you?

What a sad, limited world view, one that keeps people from enhancing their aesthetic lives and their home's walls. The best reason to buy painting art-or any kind of art for that matter -- is because you like it, because when you see the oil painting or the print on your wall it makes you happy, because you want to have it in your life, because -- like my Honda Fit -- it's smart, sassy, sophisticated, and fun -- in short, that painting is You.

That's most likely what you want people to say about your own painting art, and that's why you buy the work of other artists yourself. Let's be bold about this and counteract this pervasive investment message and, one by one, we'll let people know that great art is a great investment because it pays off, instantly, in happiness dividends.

--Carolyn

Get Out of Your Comfort Zone! Um . . . Why?

Carolyn Henderson — Thu, 03 Jan 2013 04:23:00 GMT

"When someone tells you to 'get out of your comfort zone,' wait for it. It's highly likely that they're subtly or not-so-subtly nudging you into doing something that they know you don't want to do, but they need done." -- From Start Your Week with Steve, the free weekly e-mail newsletter of Steve Henderson Fine Art.


		Just because we're in our comfort zone as painting artists, doesn't mean that we're not facing big, exciting challenges. Bold Innocence by Steve Henderson of Steve Henderson Fine Art.

We really owe seminar speakers a lot: they are the ones who come up with these tiresome platitudes that we battle on a daily basis.

Have you ever asked yourself, "Why are random people so concerned about my comfort zone, and whether or not I'm in it?" And, "Just where is it that they want me to go?"

In the real world, there is a difference between a rut and a path, the former being a place where dirty water settles and that gets your feet all wet, the latter being a directional aid in getting you where you want to go. All too frequently, we muddy the two, helped no doubt by people around us who point out that we seem too "comfortable" doing things the way we do, and perhaps we should step off our clear path onto the one they are suggesting.

But there is a reason we feel comfortable doing what we do: it fits us. It makes sense. It's relatively easy because it meshes with the way we think, believe, and process information. It's only when we're afraid, timid, reluctant, huddled in the ditch against the breeze that we're actually in a rut, and generally, we can figure this out without someone pointing it out to us.

Go ahead: do what you do best in your painting art, and do learn how to paint in the way that makes sense to you. Challenge yourself in your painting lessons, try something new, shake up your routine as a painting artist -- but do it because you want to do it, not because someone scolds you into thinking that you should.

--Carolyn

Be Kind -- Starting with Yourself

Carolyn Henderson — Tue, 01 Jan 2013 05:10:00 GMT

As an artist, it's good to know how to critique yourself and your painting techniques -- and that's the key element: HOW to critique yourself.


Stride into that studio of yours and take control of analyzing and critiquing your own work. Cadence by Steve Henderson of Steve Henderson Fine Art.

This type of "critique" when you are learning how to paint doesn't work: "What a lousy painting. I'll never know how to do this right."

And quite frankly, that's not critique so much as it is self-evisceration. You'd never say this to a friend or fellow painting artist, and probably not even to an enemy, at least not to his or her face, so why attack yourself with it?

On the opposite spectrum, this also is not valid critique: "I am so amazing! Everything I produce is so significantly superior to what I see out there that I don't understand why I'm not artist-in-residence on the Oprah network."

While it's good to be confident, arrogance is confidence on steroids, and it'll wind up eventually bringing you and your fine art painting down, because if you are already at the pinnacle then where do you go from there?

So, the best thing to try for as you give yourself painting lessons in self-evaluation is something in between the extremes, which applies to pretty much anything in life. Look at your painting art -- closely -- and try to define what it is about a particular piece that you like and don't like, and why. While this may be difficult if you've never really done it before, it gets easier with practice.

And, since you're doing this for yourself, it's not as if you are crafting an English 101 essay, to be returned with red marks throughout for all of the aspects you "missed." You're doing this for yourself, for the betterment of your art, and for the increased ability to view, analyze, and critique your own work. You're the judge, so be kind and strive for fairness.

--Carolyn

The One and Only You

Carolyn Henderson — Tue, 25 Dec 2012 04:39:00 GMT

The Norwegian Artist and I walk 3-5 miles every day, broken up in two or three sessions. It gets the dog out, me off the chair in front of the computer, and the Norwegian from behind his oil painting easel. During the break, we propound to one another correct solutions to national, international, and domestic problems.


		There's no one quite like you in this whole entire world. Celebrate that as you learn how to oil paint. Mesa Walk by Steve Henderson of Steve Henderson Fine Art.

Unless it's raining. At that point, I stay in, regardless of the Norwegian's exasperated sigh or the dog's pleading look.

It's not so much that I'm inordinately difficult as that I wear glasses, and I really, really hate droplets spattered all over the lenses because then my whole world looks blotchy. While I subconsciously realized this, it took me years before I thought to communicate my reasons to the Norwegian, who, now that he wears reading glasses and understands the irritation of fingerprints or dust on the lenses, nodded and said, "I can see that. Why don't you wear a hat?"

Well, at least we achieved partial understanding. The Norwegian is content to accept that this is the way I am, and on rainy days he and the dog share special time together.

What about you? Do you do something a certain way because of something unique about you?

Do you find it more comfortable to sit when you are oil painting, but everybody you know says that you should stand while putting oil on canvas? Or do you stand closer to your easel than many people do because that's how your eyes focus best? How about light? Maybe you prefer it coming from one side or another or even behind you -- possibly because you wear glasses and they catch a reflection. Or maybe you paint very very quickly, and other artists say that you should slow down.

Before you hang your head and mumble that everyone else is probably right, and you're wrong, as usual, think about me and my glasses. You may have an excellent reason for doing what you do and how you do it and that reason is intimately tied in with something distinctive about you. Take some time and think it through -- not so that you have to answer the people critiquing you, but so that you can answer yourself about what is right for your oil painting art. It'll be the best painting lesson you give yourself.

--Carolyn

A Dreadful Flood of the Unexpected

Carolyn Henderson — Thu, 20 Dec 2012 04:25:00 GMT

While it was a lousy summer for tomatoes, something in the air made the pumpkins and winter squash particularly prolific, and we find ourselves with a workshop full of the stuff.


What we are convinced is a flood of trouble may actually be a sea of opportunity. Golden Opportunity by Steve Henderson of Steve Henderson Fine Art.

Like most people of my generation, my primary experience with winter squash is baked, smashed, and slathered with butter and brown sugar, and while I've become remarkably adaptable in my grown-up years, my inner child simply refuses to eat, or make, this stuff, which means that I have to get really creative, and I am, thinking, dreaming, cooking, and even writing all things squash (Awash with Squash).

In the process of dealing with this abundance of unusual, unlooked for, and unrequested bounty, I came to realize that this is the story of our lives as artists and painters, because if we don't realize what we have, then we will 1) miss out on our ability to advance as artists and hone our oil painting techniques and 2) possibly squander or let rot valuable painting resources in ourselves.

Maybe you, like me, have been presented with a lot of something that you're not familiar with and don't want to use. How much better, you think, to have buckets of strawberries, or chocolate, or asparagus.

But you don't have those things. You have squash -- and if you forget about feeling bad because you don't have strawberries or chocolate or asparagus, and concentrate, instead, on using what you do have to the best of your ability, you will 1) advance in your oil painting skills and 2) learn to paint using those valuable resources that are inside you ready to be tapped.

Are you not a dynamic, exciting person who does ad lib demos and wows audiences to the point that they snatch up everything in your art booth? Strawberries.

Then talk to people, quietly, and get to know them, and share sincerely about yourself and your oil painting art. Squash.

Do you get cold easily, shudder in the wind, and squint at outside light during a plein air painting session? Chocolate.

Then brew a cup of tea and enjoy the cozy atmosphere of your studio. Squash.

Look around you with your painter's eye. See what you have a lot of, and use it. It won't be the same as what your neighbor or another artist has, but if you worry about what you don't have, you won't focus on using what you do.

--Carolyn

Creativity and Apple Pie

Carolyn Henderson — Tue, 18 Dec 2012 04:14:00 GMT

Like his father, our Son and Heir likes to bicycle around the countryside, and during the autumn he never returns without panniers full of wild apples, picked from abandoned fruit trees.


An abundance of apples or a challenge to face in your art--both are best met with creativity and ingenuity. Afternoon Tea by Steve Henderson of Steve Henderson Fine Art.

Every afternoon found a new pile of fruit product piled somewhere on my kitchen counters; when I mentioned that the apples were getting in my way, the Heir moved them from one counter to the next, but then filled up the released space with a newly discovered variety from yet another forsaken tree.

I had apples on top of the microwave, behind the toaster, in the breadbox, and tumbling out of the refrigerator; when kitchen counter space became scarce the laundry room was the new landing page for these refugee fruits.

Yep, I could make applesauce; I'm sure that's a great suggestion, but I really hate canning. I also hate wasting good food -- especially unsprayed, organic food -- so I did adjust our meal plan to incorporate apples in all forms, for all meals. You can make a really quick healthy apple concoction on the stove with water, a little sugar, cinnamon, lemon juice, butter, and -- what else -- apples, and I shortly found that this was a fast, cheap, easy breakfast option. We ate it day after day, and the pile of apples grew noticeably smaller (it helped that the weather grew colder and there were no more afternoon harvest sessions).

So what do apples have to do with painting, aside from being a still life painting subject?

Just this: as you work around a potentially overwhelming situation or circumstance -- in this case, it was apples everywhere; in your case, it could be trying to create oil paintings on the side while working a day job, or making do with limited financial resources to purchase painting materials, or not having the art studio of your dreams (who does?). You get pretty creative with what you have, and the solution you find to your problem changes how you do everything else.

How do you like them apples?

--Carolyn

What a Roux Has to Do with Youx

Carolyn Henderson — Thu, 13 Dec 2012 04:03:00 GMT

Our youngest daughter, Tired of Being Youngest, recently started culinary school, which means that we're eating a lot better these days. It's not so much that she's doing a lot of experimenting on us -- most nights she's home late and doing book homework -- but on weekends she creates, and I watch. Then, during the week, I copy.


We don't have to look gentle and patient to exhibit some of these characteristics. Queen Anne's Lace by Steve Henderson.

This last week I made roux (pronounced "roo," like the Winnie the Pooh character) -- a flour/butter concoction that you gently and patiently stir over low heat until it turns nutty brown. Added to soup, it transforms lunch into something decadently divine.

Now I've known about roux for years but never made it -- that "gently and patiently" part always tripped me up. But it wasn't until I tasted what it does to tomato soup, thanks to one of those weekend practice sessions of our daughter's, that I realized what I've been missing all these years. Surely, I could be gentle and patient for 15 minutes.

That's soup. What about oil painting?

I'm willing to bet that there's a product or oil painting art technique or method that has been kicking around in the back of your mind for years, but you haven't tried it because of, well, that "gentle and patient" part.

"It can't make that much of a difference" you tell yourself, and don't do it again.

You may be right -- it might not make much of a difference at all. Or, you may be missing out on something -- like a truly delectable, complex tomato soup -- and not know it.

Why not give it a try? Go ahead -- doux it. What's that fine art oil painting process you have a feeling could enhance your process? Leave me a comment and let me know, and then go do it and report back!

--Carolyn

A Simple Productivity Tip from Da Vinci

Will Kemp — Tue, 11 Dec 2012 18:43:00 GMT

Ever wondered where Da Vinci found the time to create all his masterpieces? Alongside his fine art painting he managed to dabble as a scientist, geologist, architect, mathematician, engineer, and anatomist with a bit of aeronautical design thrown in for good measure!

So how can we adopt a little bit of Da Vinci in our own practice? One of the most simple ways is to use a colored ground for our painting art. Or, as Da Vinci favored, an imprimatura.


Self-portrait by Leonardo Da Vinci, red chalk drawing, 1510-1515.

An imprimatura is an initial stain of color painted onto a white ground. It is usually created using an earth color such as burnt umber or raw sienna. When painted onto your canvas it provides you with a transparent toned ground to work onto. (For more oil painting terms and definitions, here's my free online Glossary for Oil Painting Terms--An Essential Guide for Beginners.)

Why does it speed up your process as a painting artist? The toned ground acts as your mid tone. You then just have to work on the lights and darks. This means you can quickly establish a feel and mood for the painting with very little effort.

The name Imprimatura comes from the Italian for 'first paint layer' and often, the initial stain is left visible in areas of the finished painting.

You can use this painting technique to prepare a selection of different colored surfaces that can be perfect for quick oil painting sketches and poster studies.

Maybe a burnt sienna imprimatura for an autumnal scene, or a terre-verte for a landscape painting?

By knocking down the white glare of the pre-primed canvas, you can quickly get your ideas down and speed up your painting time in the process.

To get started with an imprimatura try using a raw umber from your painting palette. It is a neutral, semi-transparent tone that is ideal to apply to your surface. It creates a unified layer of neutral tone that dries quickly.

How to Apply an Imprimatura

1 - Place a few small dots of raw umber evenly around the canvas.

2 - Then dip your painting brush into a small amount of turpentine.

3 - Now evenly scrub the turpentine with a coarse bristle painting brush over the small drops of paint into the surface of the canvas until all the white has been eliminated.
You are looking for a translucent, even thin layer of paint, like a stain.

Toning as such creates a clean, strong foundation for subsequent paint layers.

You can now block in your drawing with the raw umber, which is thinned to a fluid, flexible consistency with turpentine and a touch of linseed oil.

If you'd like to learn more oil painting terms I've just published a Glossary of Oil terms for beginners.

--Will

Why Are Brush Sizes as Confusing as a Currency Converter?

Will Kemp — Tue, 04 Dec 2012 04:59:00 GMT

How does brush sizing work and where do you start?

Have you every ordered some new brushes online, feeling pretty confident they'll be the perfect size for your latest oil on canvas creation? After all you spent all afternoon researching them. Only to then be bitterly disappointed when the painting supplies arrive?


		Choosing painting supplies such as a painting brush can be troublesome if you assume each manufacturer sizes their brushes according to the same system.

They were the number you saw in the magazine but have turned out to be either far too small, or far too big. Where did you go wrong?

You aren't alone. Painting artists struggle with this all the time when deciding how to paint and with what brushes. Selecting the right painting brush size can be very tricky as every manufacturer's sizes are different. There is no universal sizing system, so a size 10 in one brand can be completely different from another brand.

Confused? Here is a quick painting brush guide to keep in mind next time you visit the art store:

All brushes increase in size depending on the number, so a size 14 will always be larger than a size 12, whatever the brand.

There are other numbers on the brushes that indicate the series number (often abbreviated to SER). This is usually 4 digits long, for example: SER 6474. This helps to identify a brush correctly when ordering.

Brushes can come in short and long handles. Short handles are best for detailed work or painting on the flat. Longer handles are best if you intend to stand at the easel.

The longer the length of bristle, the more flex there is in the brush. A short length of brush hair will appear to be much stiffer and coarser than a longer length--even if the bristle is the same softness of hair. This length is called the 'length out' and a long length out was favored by the Old Masters.

Pro painting art tip: When you are next in the art store, flick your thumb from left to right over the edge of the brush. This will give you a feel for the 'snap' of the brush. The brush will 'crack' when you first flick it, this is the gum arabic that has been used to set the head. It's advisable to rinse the new brush before use to remove any excess gum arabic.

So the ultimate question is, which size should I buy?

I tend to go by the width of the brush and the length of the bristles, rather than the size or number.

To get started with a small acrylic paintings or oil painting art piece (under A3), I would recommend:

Round brush 6mm - 7mm in width with a 25mm length out.
Filbert brush 10mm in width with a 16mm - 20mm length out.

Of course, to find the perfect brush for each person can take a little while but this should point you in the right direction. Do you agree? Where did you start in terms of painting brushes? Leave a comment and let me know.

--Will

Will Kemp is an award-winning professional artist from the U.K. He teaches classical painting techniques with a modern approach, so you can discover how to paint & draw in the quickest time possible. Will creates weekly videos at Will Kemp Art School about painting, drawing & creativity.

Is the Devil in the Detail?

Will Kemp — Thu, 29 Nov 2012 04:41:00 GMT

How to let go of small brush addiction so your paintings can move on to become more gestural

If you lost all of your brushes, which one would you miss the most?

For me, it's a 12 year old Filbert bristle brush that has lost its shape, has unruly hairs, and is caked in paint. In other words, it's perfect.


Transitioning from a large to small brush in an oil painting can be problematic if you do it too fast, without establishing your big shapes first.

But often, for beginners, their prize possession is a number 000, the smallest, thinnest detail brush.

I can appreciate that there is something so pleasing about a detail brush, it can be hard not to resist. It's a bit like adding whipped cream to your coffee, you know you shouldn't do it but it tastes so damn good!

Getting over 'small brush addiction' can instantly give your oil painting art a boost and help you develop your skills as a painter.

The obsession hits hardest when you're making the switch from drawing or sketching to mastering oil painting techniques. The familiarity of a small, sharp point is comforting, yet unbeknown to you, ultimately damaging to your painting skills.

You start to work in a 'piecemeal' approach. This is where you focus on one small section at a time rather than bringing the painting together as a whole.

But what if you dream of producing work with energy, gestural marks and movement, yet everything you produce looks flat, lacking that certain style you know is in you?

The solution

Take a few words of advice from a master of gestural marks, John Singer Sargent, who is credited with saying,

'Start with a broom & end with a needle'

So find the biggest brush you have, often a 2 inch decorators brush is good, work on a larger scale, 60 x 60 cm is a good starting point, and go for it!
Try to paint as much as you can before changing your brush down a size.

"But, don't I need a small brush for the details?"

No, you need a deft touch.

When studying at the Angel Academy of Art, Florence, Master John Angel would repeatably say, 'The Devil is the detail' to emphasis the importance of establishing your big forms first, rather than diving into the details too early on.

If you establish the general feel of the painting using a big brush first, not only will you work faster with more expression, but your dexterity with the brush will improve.
When you do finally succumb to the charms of your small detail brush the marks will sing, in comparison to the broad, gestural strokes surrounding them.

--Will

"Greatness Is Determined by Service"

Carolyn Henderson — Tue, 30 Oct 2012 04:45:00 GMT

I hesitate to admit that some of my education these days is derived from Facebook, thanks to those seemingly endless placards with quotes that people are always posting: "I think it's weird how some days I feel skinny and some days I feel like a busted can of biscuits." While this is cute, be assured that it's not what I'm talking about today. I just tossed it in to add a smile to your morning.

This is more like it: "Everyone has the power for greatness, not for fame but greatness, because greatness is determined by service." I don't know if Martin Luther King really said this or not, but his image is behind the quote, and it sounds like something he would say.

Whether or not anyone ever saw it or recognized it, the Grand Canyon would always be a place of
greatness and awe. Many Hued, signed limited edition print by Steve Henderson.

If you have made any study of art history, you have no doubt been stopped cold by an oil painting artist or watercolor painter or draftsman whom you have never heard of before but whose images haunt you with their deft skill and deep wrenching emotion. Sometimes, when you read further, you find out that this artist was never recognized in his lifetime, isn't really recognized now, but is considered in certain circles to be truly, truly great, but unfortunately undiscovered.

As King observes, there is a difference between greatness and fame, and sometimes the two do not go together. Other times, quite unfairly—but as our mothers always told us, "life isn't fair"—fame accompanies a lack of greatness. Ideally, the two mesh, but while the fame part is largely out of our individual control, the greatness part is not.

You can be a great artist. It will take time to develop your fine art painting skills, practice, determination, and humility, because a major part of improving in our oil painting art is recognizing our need to improve. Intriguingly, the very attributes that contribute toward your greatness as an artist also benefit you as an individual human being, with the result being that you attain greatness, whether or not you achieve fame.

--Carolyn

Money and Fame May Not Be Enough

Carolyn Henderson — Tue, 23 Oct 2012 03:31:00 GMT

What is success? Be honest with yourself. Do you truly believe that a successful person is defined by the car he drives, the title after her name, or their number of Twitter followers? Life is bigger, wider, deeper than what you can fit into a shoebox. Walk onto that beach with confidence, knowing that you are a success.-- From Start Your Week with Steve, a free weekly e-mail newsletter to help people start Monday off on the right foot, or just to start it at all.


Many times, we can benefit by heeding the advice we give to others, including the children in our lives. Sophie and Rose, an original oil painting, signed limited edition print, miniature study, and note card by Steve Henderson.

Maybe it's because I've raised four kids. Maybe it's because I homeschooled them. I don't know, but what I do know is that when it comes to your children, your primary goal is that they turn out to be decent, kind, sympathetic, understanding people, and you hope that they'll be happy.

And then you look around you, and you see scores of famous, wealthy people, some of whom seem decent, kind, sympathetic, and understanding and many others who do not, and you think, money and fame must not be enough. And they're not.

We know that deep down because didn't all of our mothers tell us so? Yet, we persist in defining our success by our name (Do people know us by one like Shakespeare, Lincoln, Napoleon, Madonna, Renoir are?), our sales, or our bank account.

If we want to be successful oil painting artists or top watercolorists or stellar acrylic painters, then let's start with what people often pay attention to least when it comes to the idea of success in the fine art painting world: the quality of our art. Get good. Get really really good. Work hard, struggle through, yell with triumph over your latest oil painting, and then go kiss the dog. That's success.

--Carolyn

Frustration Isn't Always a Bad Thing

Carolyn Henderson — Tue, 16 Oct 2012 04:08:00 GMT

"Frustration isn't always such a bad thing. It's a sign that you're trying something new, different, or outside your level of familiarity, and in working your way through it (and you will) you conquer this challenge and move on to the next one." -- Start Your Week with Steve, a free enewsletter from artist Steve Henderson


Life is not always a cup of tea, but a break to enjoy that "cup of tea" enables us to endure, and conquer, our frustration. Tea by the Sea, an original oil painting, signed limited edition print, and note card by Steve Henderson.

One of the most satisfying things I do is teaching another person how to knit. And every time I do so, I conclude the lesson with this encouragement: "You've just learned. While knitting is fairly simple consisting of basically two stitches, until you practice and do it over and over and over, you will not get good.

"And in the process of practicing, and learning how to be good, you will find that you forget some things, or that your knitting looks uneven, or that you drop stitches and you don't know how to get back. And you will get frustrated.

Not only is this normal, but this is good, and if you're not getting frustrated, then you're probably not pushing yourself beyond your existing skill. You are not stupid. You are not unusual. You are not weird. You are normal. You are above normal when you accept the challenge, fight it, and win. Now, go and knit."

This same advice applies in anything you do, including and especially including creating a fine art painting or sculpture. You won't get better if you don't practice those oil painting techniques and push yourself with new painting instruction; and if you do it a lot and push yourself outside your existing painting skills, you can expect to get frustrated because you are getting somewhere.

So, go get frustrated.

--Carolyn

Reconnect with Your Passion

johnandann@theartistsroad — Tue, 09 Oct 2012 03:31:00 GMT

The loss of an artist and teacher from childhood has caused me to reflect upon not only her life and work, but also those lessons that she taught me. The myriad distractions of daily life, from the constant need to earn money for survival to the many mundane chores and tasks required to keep it all going can combine at times to make us temporarily lose our focus in art-making. Remembering the passion a teacher found in fine art painting and how she worked to instill that passion in her students has helped to reconnect me with the roots of my own passion for art-making.


Early Morning, Venice by Robert Henri, 1891, oil on canvas.

Here is a favorite quote from a well-known book she first introduced me to, The Art Spirit, by Robert Henri:

"There are moments in our lives, there are moments in a day, when we seem to see beyond the usual. Such are the moments of our greatest happiness. Such are the moments of our greatest wisdom. If one could but recall his vision by some sort of sign. It was in this hope that the arts were invented. Sign-posts on the way to what may be. Sign-posts toward greater knowledge."

Henri was a wonderfully skilled artist and teacher, and The Art Spirit is filled with inspiring quotes that reach out to us today with words of encouragement and focus.

"Art cannot be separated from life. It is the expression of the greatest need of which life is capable, and we value art not because of the skilled product, but because of its revelation of a life's experience." --Robert Henri

We are thankful to have had good teachers and we are reminded now that the greatest lessons they taught us have the power to instruct and encourage us throughout our lives. We believe that Henri was correct in pointing out that our lives as artists are our art. As such, we must keep in mind that the road toward greater knowledge is a life-long one, and we must remember to look for those sign-posts left for us by our teachers and other artists which help to keep us on our artistic path.

Please join us on The Artist's Road for more articles, interviews and step-by-step painting demonstrations.

--John and Ann