Mural Update

   We are making progress...a few more artists have joined the fun, and I'm about ready to step away from the ever-changing landscape. Sorry, but there will be no metaphorical tangents at this point about the ever-changing landscape of my life. Maybe in another blog; later. John Paul & Maria joined Teresa and me to see how they could contribute to the project, and in the hours we worked yesterday, the difference was obvious on the canvas:

   In spite of the challenges of artistic collaboration, the trio worked well, respecting the opinions and suggestions of Teresa who had already spent much time laboring on making the stones three-dimensional.

   At the conclusion of the session, the artists were pleased with the results.

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   A major flaw in the canvas has driven me to distraction. The three flats are joined after they were connected/secured to the viewing area. A fabric tape of some sort joins the pieces in the front while the framing pieces are linked with screwed-in blocks of wood or metal strips. One of these--after years of use and abuse--is warped, so a large gap had created a vertical strip which cannot be obscured. Whatever we try to paint on it still betrays the imperfect substrate. From a distance, the view is painful for those of us who obsess about such things.
  
   My remedy for this took at least an hour of my time when I returned today alone. First, I drilled holes into more metal connectors and scrap wood to pull the warped board in line with its neighbor. Then, I experimented with Plaster of Paris to fill in the gap on the front surface--over the area already painted. I covered about 80% of the offending opening, creating a stark white strip over the masterpiece.  In my experiment, I learned how quickly the powdered plaster sets when added to water and stirred. It took about three minutes before the mixture hardened to stone, requiring I make many small batches until I finished.

   Ouch! The worse part was that the strip ran right through the beautiful masonry the kids had labored to create. Guilt swamped my being. I attempted to paint over the drying plaster, but the instructions said to wait 24 hours before painting, and I didn't want it to be seen by anyone who happened to walk in on it. An hour later, I stripped it bare, and swept the white mess from the floor. I went behind the canvas and filled in the gap between the wooden vertical braces, stuffing it with a strip of black foam insulation with adhesive backing. The re-paint afterwards hid more of the seam as I blended it into the scenery.

    The trunk of the tree to the right of center follows the track of the former gully. The image is blurry, but it's difficult to detect the flaw in the backdrop.

   



When viewed through French doors leading out the the balcony, the landscape is not overpowering, but lends itself to the air of elegance I was attempting to re-create.

       
   A small stream has been added to the left side of the scene, and a barely noticeable line of trees on the horizon line.



   I may put in a few more highlights tomorrow (and take a better camera)--then I will walk away and declare it finished. I am quite confident I would make changes to it on a daily basis if it were here in my home studio, but since it is not, and because it was commissioned---so technically I cannot claim ownership, I will abandon it to its new home, allowing the imperfections to remain. The artistic process matters more than the (un)finished product, and I feel so fortunate to have been able to create a landscape that I'd surely enjoy if it was outside of my veranda.  

Ozone Studio on the Road

   Sometimes it's more fun to play at a friend's house than make a mess in my own studio. I can't say yet where the "friend" is to be found, as I think the artwork is supposed to be held in secret until a later date. I can only give a hint: the name Agatha....

   Teresa, my youngest child, has taken a brief break from her passion for American Girl dolls: sewing their clothing, and crafting every possible accessory for them. She does her research online at a favorite crafting site.  A few days ago, she accompanied me on a journey to create a large piece of creative expression. Some of our collaborations in the past have ended badly...sad to say, she's not always comfortable sharing adjoining pages in one of my art journals side by side on my bed. It leads to comparison, and all my attempts to remind her that art is for fun, that I've had four decades more to experiment with it, and whatever other psychology I can pull from remnants of my college days---falls short. She's left those sessions in tears, leaving me to wallow in needless guilt. Perhaps I should avoid doing art with her when it's past both our bedtimes.

   In spite of my concerns, she's coming along for the ride on this one. The subject in question is a rather large mural with a stone wall, meadow, woods, and sky in the background. The medium is acrylic paint. The location is a secret. For a few weeks. I am hoping I can give a peek without ruining the fun for others who will get to see the results. It is possible the finished result will be viewed by 1,000 people. (That's more than a little scary!)

   For research, I drove around, looking for old stone walls. Teresa actually pointed this one out to me, and it's one I've passed several times a week for years, but hardly noticed. I used it as my model to practice drawing the subject. It's on Market Street in Camp Hill, PA:

    I suspect it has been painted often by plein air enthusiasts, as we have some talented artists sketch during festivals in the area.

   Before finding the wall, I sketched out a rough idea of what the whole picture might look like. I tried one in  pastels and another in oils. The second one was an evening view, but too dark and in the wrong orientation for the person who commissioned the work. I'm still using my cellphone camera, so the colors don't translate very well, but it's the idea of the process I'm trying to convey here:

   When we started on the large canvas, I suggested how we might try to make the stones look realistic--but let Teresa discover how that would work. She quickly got a handle on it.

   The three stones to the left of her hand were her first attempts at creating a 3-dimensional view.  From a distance, they really popped!  Maria came today and added some green tints to the grout--which may have aged with the help of moss and other organic agents. She spent an hour working before she headed off to another activity. Over two days (not counting many hours of research and preliminary sketching) and more than 10 hours with Teresa, the picture is emerging:

   The grout appears yellow--but that's my camera's exaggeration. It's more of a baby-poop green. I added the upright stones to the ledge, trying to incorporate shadow and depth, ignoring the fact that I never paid attention when studying perspective in the classes I took and the myriad of drawing books I've used in self-study for more than three decades of art exploration. I wasn't able to get a good photo of the meadows and trees because we had to leave before others invaded our space. I'll do that the next time we get in.

   So far, Teresa is doing marvelous work! I keep standing back to admire it, and taking photos as the magic unfolds. She, in turn, scolds me to to stop playing and get back to painting. She suggests which areas I should be focusing on. The best part is watching her lose herself in the effort, and chip away at the self-conscious worries about the imperfections. Several people have been around while we're at the project, and all have commented on her part. It couldn't make me happier.

   We have to keep bopping our own little critics like Whack-a-Mole critters at an arcade as they surface from their burrows, but so far, we're winning.