Background Switcher (Hidden)

Painting a Cock of the Rock

Sunday, December 28, 2008

Ready for another bird painting?

It's hard to have to wait to post my step-by-step descriptions of how a painting is made until after the surprise has passed. I don't know why I seem always to be painting on a surprise basis but that seems to be the case. Lately, I paint for gifts. In this case the giftee was none other than Bill of the Birds. He was the one asked to go on the trip to Guyana, and he passed the trip along to me. The least I could do is paint him a cock of the rock for Christmas.

In my last post you saw the pose I knew I'd use for the painting. I'm not normally too wild about painting from photographs, unless I've made them. Given world enough and time, I'd sit there for a few days and draw COTR's from life, coming up with a composite pose that delighted me, and learning a lot about the bird in the process. Sigh. Lately the world doesn't seem to be working too well with Time, so I had to rely on what my camera was able to capture in the dark undergrowth. We had less than an hour on the COTR lek before we mushed onward to the next destination.
The sketch doesn't look like much, I know, but it's code for what I want to do in the painting.

As usual, I masked out the bird, branches and foreground leaves with Incredible White masking compound and a clear film. When the masking compound dried, I dove right in. I had laid down a pale background wash and a bunch of darks before I remembered to pick up the camera. You do tend to leave your rational mind in the dust when you go galloping off across a big expanse of wet white watercolor paper.
While everything is still damp and diffusey, I throw in a bunch of vegetation. I try to paint background washes when there's no one around to distract me. That's why animals are such good studio companions (as I listen to Charlie riffling through his feathers by my right ear, and Chet snoring softly in his studio bed).
I run the painting across the studio, prop it on a chair, and decide I hate the three-parted leaf I've hurriedly painted in the lower left corner. It looks like a flying macaw, and this is not a painting of macaws. Charlie has sent me a telepathic message to include him in the painting, I guess. Sorry Chuck, you lose. So I wet my brush with clear water, spray down the offending macaw-leaf, and scrub it out. Bye!
I don't want it to leave a shadow, so while it's still wet I throw some salt on the wound. When it dries, it has a nice, organic look. It doesn't look like anyone had an artistic cow right there. It looks like whoever painted it actually knew what she was doing. Heh.
Time to peel off the masking film and get going on the bird's perch. If the painting looks paler and warmer, it's because it's now nightfall, and I'm shooting by incandescent light.I get that vine painted in, careful to vary the color and value along its length so it looks like it's part of the scene, not pasted on top of it. And then I paint in some leaves. You'll notice that my greens are pretty toned down. Greens can be tough to manage in watercolor. Have you ever seen a painting that's pretty OK, but has some too-vivid or fake-looking greens in it? There are a lot of paintings like that. I've done some of them. Nothing can spoil a painting faster than obnoxious greens. I'm being conservative with them, because I want the star of the show to be the bird. And when I put the first bit of him in, I'm glad I took it easy on the greens.Wouldn't want to hurt anyone's eyes.

Tomorrow we'll paint the bird. Or I will, and you'll watch (after the fact). Which reminds me of a recent comment, someone wishing they could stand and watch over my shoulder as I paint. I smiled at that one. My kids can attest that when it comes down to the actual painting part I get very distracted, and then kind of snarly. I think it's a way of protecting my subconscious brain, which has to be firing on all cylinders when I'm in the act of painting. My kids like to interact with my conscious brain, and when we're together they keep plucking at the conscious brain's hem, making sure it's engaged. They're not being pesky; they're just being human.

I've never shut my kids out of the studio; rather, I've schooled them in the art of leaving space for that subconscious creative action to go on around them. From their end, I'm sure they recognize the trance when it comes on, and they know that buggin' me for a popsicle, fighting over space at the desk computer, or asking for help with a math problem isn't the best move when I'm laying down a wash or trying to figure out if I've just painted something ugly. It's good for them to recognize another person's creative space, and it's good for them to see how to maintain their own, too. Call it subconscious/conscious or right brain/left brain; creative space is another space entirely from the everyday, conversational space we usually occupy.

16 comments:

It seems like you've just returned - how have you had time to paint this??? When I was in the A. - I looked up into the murky greeness of the jungle and said 'how could anyone paint this' - and you just nailed it. Right down to the twist of the vine and the subtle variations of green. But that COTR is the star of the show. Breathtaking!!! Somebody must have been very happy on Christmas.

I love it that you are painting this bird of your dreams. And yes, that creative brain space is so 'in a world of its own'. I'm enjoying your commentary. Its so real, as in, how many times have I scrubbed a "I hate that" spot!

Sorry about the premature e-blogulation.
For reasons known only to Mr. Murphy, Blooger chose to publish a post I had scheduled for January 5. I had to stand on my head, wiggle my nose, cut, paste, save, and delete three times in a row to get rid of that spoiler! That post will be back. We're focusing on the cock of the rock now. Hear that, BLOOGER?

Honestly.

Love the idea of painting/creating from the subconscious, and the conscious side being a tad 'snarly.' Left brain/right brain is still fascinating stuff -- if anyone hasn't seen/heard by now one of Jill Bolte Taylor's talks on the Web ought to look her up and listen (or buy her book).

Wondering how long it takes you as a professional painter to capture that unique shade of orange for such a creature -- do you pretty much know right away what to mix together, or is there a trial-and-error period involved???

It is good that you showed us the photos first, elst no one would believe that incandescent orange!

Hi Shecky, and welcome to the comments living room!
My process for mixing COTR orange is pretty primitive. I look at my palette and pick the brightest yellow I've got (cadmium) and then do a very thin overlay of cadmium yellow mixed with scarlet lake. As I look at it, I think I erred on the side of making it too yellow--the bird as I saw it was redder than that. If I were to paint it again, I'd lay the scarlet lake on heavier. My bird looks a little pallid. My sense is that they might get redder as they age, but that's just a guess.

Wow, that's amazing to watch a painting in progress. Not being an artist, I always thought the process was paint and go. It's delightful to watch a painting blossom!
Thanks for sharing,
Harmony,
Janet

And that's exactly why those in my house will hear me reply, "Not now please. (go away) I'm trying to write...give me a few minutes." Yeah, even the dogs know to leave me alone during post cooking.

I can't wait to see more. I'm in awe.

Mary

After the last post, I was thinking to myself, "it doesn't get any better than this." Today I see just how much better it can get. I love watching the paintings come to life. What great gifts, yours and the one you gave Bill.

Wow, what a wonderful gift Julie. I am sure Bill was so surprised and touched. Can't wait to see the bird come to life. :c)

Perhaps you pulled it, or perhaps Something Mysterious happened, but the RSS feed of your blog had a post about Myrmecophaga tridactyla that does not appear in your blog now.

rmharvey, see my first comment on this post. It was a Blogger misfire that pained me greatly. It's coming back Jan. 5, after a proper Zicklike buildup and introduction. Sigh. Blooger.

Julie,
How I envy the gift you have to create a gift like this for your husband. What a joy it must be.
Caroline in South Dakota

I really enjoy watching the creative process. And using the salt to fix an area you didn't care for-I haven't heard of that. Very cool.

When I have dabbled in watercolors in the past, I had always wanted to fuss with things too much and ended up with a blob of color I didn't want. Ugghh.

I am also very anxious to try out gouache. I have heard it is more user friendly for the impatient ADD artist.

Gorgeous painting Julie! A wonderful gift for the bearer of your trip!

[Back to Top]