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.