stlukesguild
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After three paintings that evolved and were completed quite rapidly without many problems, I began what would become something of a nightmare. I wanted to continue working with the clothed figure. I was thinking of and looking at Degas a good deal. I had long admired Degas' comment on his ballet dancers. He dismissed the notion that there was some deep meaning or fetish involved in his series of ballet dancers. "I just enjoy painting beautiful girls in pretty clothes in motion." I was thinking of something in a similar vein... a Can-Can dancer...
or 1950s pinup:
I was thinking of the raised skirt as sexy... but not overly revealing.
I began to rapidly develop the drawing.
I quickly developed the background and began work on the color. I was thinking a more subdued "pastel" color harmony and began with this Baby Blue.
Against this I employed black & white and the tessellations in Teal and Periwinkle. At this time, my studio mate... the one who later went crazy... thought he should tell me that he thought this was my worst painting and that no one used symmetry today. He always made such sweeping statements and so I knew to just ignore him.
At this point, the painting was coming together as fast or even faster than the 3 prior paintings. And then the BIG FUCK UP!
I was taking an independent study drawing class at a local college for the continuing credits required to maintain my teaching license. I took the painting to school one Saturday to show the work in progress. When I returned home, it was a torrential downpour and so I decided to leave the painting in the car trunk until a dry day when I could take it back to the studio. It continued to rain all weekend so I decided to leave it until the following weekend. During the week I needed to place something in the trunk and I found that my brother had placed a heavy car jack on top of the rolled-up painting flattening it out. Rushing it to the studio and unrolling it, I discovered that there were major creases in the paper and cracks in the acrylic paint. I spent the next couple of days on the internet reading up on techniques for getting creases and cracks out of paintings and works on paper. I went into the studio Saturday and tried them all: layers of new acrylic, sanding, using an iron or a blow-drier. Nothing worked at all. My beloved studio partner suggested that it was for the best as the painting was one of my worst. I knew he was full of shit and I was not willing to give up so easily.
or 1950s pinup:
I was thinking of the raised skirt as sexy... but not overly revealing.
I began to rapidly develop the drawing.
I quickly developed the background and began work on the color. I was thinking a more subdued "pastel" color harmony and began with this Baby Blue.
Against this I employed black & white and the tessellations in Teal and Periwinkle. At this time, my studio mate... the one who later went crazy... thought he should tell me that he thought this was my worst painting and that no one used symmetry today. He always made such sweeping statements and so I knew to just ignore him.
At this point, the painting was coming together as fast or even faster than the 3 prior paintings. And then the BIG FUCK UP!
I was taking an independent study drawing class at a local college for the continuing credits required to maintain my teaching license. I took the painting to school one Saturday to show the work in progress. When I returned home, it was a torrential downpour and so I decided to leave the painting in the car trunk until a dry day when I could take it back to the studio. It continued to rain all weekend so I decided to leave it until the following weekend. During the week I needed to place something in the trunk and I found that my brother had placed a heavy car jack on top of the rolled-up painting flattening it out. Rushing it to the studio and unrolling it, I discovered that there were major creases in the paper and cracks in the acrylic paint. I spent the next couple of days on the internet reading up on techniques for getting creases and cracks out of paintings and works on paper. I went into the studio Saturday and tried them all: layers of new acrylic, sanding, using an iron or a blow-drier. Nothing worked at all. My beloved studio partner suggested that it was for the best as the painting was one of my worst. I knew he was full of shit and I was not willing to give up so easily.