Am I sick of it?

We had an unusual winter.  We saw some snow, enough to cause traffic problem and closed schools.

During one of those off days, my friend snapped a picture of the highway.   Just a random picture.  Something to do with the index finger on the iphone.

That picture was about ready to be deleted.  It was not intereting.  But what do you do with your day when you try to stay off the road as much as possible?  Play with all your pictures, my friend said.  Cropping is easy to do.

"I want to paint that."  That was my impulse after I saw the cropped photo.

My first attempt at the photo was too "faithful".  I think I was too busy recounting all the details, down to the little bush in the foreground.  The bush looked out of place in the painting.   For one it was too small to really establish a perspective.  Besides, it really took away the  abstract patch type ambiance.  I also thought the horizon lines very too strong. They were too rigid and confining.  This painting attempt had all the undesirable misgivings of painting from a picture.

On my second attempt I thought I would just recall from the photo.  I think I was playing a little more with the elliptical shapes of the landscape, rather than the landscape itself.  The lines definitely livened up and were not as forbidding.  Gone was the redundant bush in the foreground.

 

I wanted to play with the shape partitions more,  i.e. the sky, the bend in the highway on the left, and the filed in the foreground.  In my mind, this had turned into an exercise of painting patterns and lines.  I was reluctant to do this a third time.  I seemed to me that I had spent my soul in the first attempt already, and anything subsequent to that is boring and repetitious.  Perhaps I just want to prove to myself that I have discipline and I can work at something until I am satisfied.

I looked at my third attempt and I saw haste and desertion.  What have I done!  I was a mad man.  I really couldn't make anything out of it.  The painting looked disjointed.   I should have stopped at two.  Perhaps I was tired of toying with the same time over and over again.

Could I just be sick of it?

Taking a break

I was really getting tired of my brush calligraphy.

Every stroke was a chore.  I had no flow.  I was flustered. 

I was told that this is a sign of energy not flowing and it would be pointless to continue.  So I looked for a diversion.  I painted instead.

The painting was done on sized Xuan, the same piece that I aborted my brush calligraphy on.   This paper is better able to retain the original brilliance of the pigments used.   I used it for calligraphy practice because it was scrap and was easily within reach!

The painting was done without much thought process nor planning.   I did it just so I didn't have to practice my calligraphy.  It just flowed.  I am now looking for ways to crop this so I can present it in a proper format.

or

 

 

 

 

 

I have lots of time to muse over this.

Crash and Burn, attempting woodblock

I took the prints from my first attempt at wood cut to my teacher, who happened to be an expert in this field.  My teacher excelled in woodcut prints while studying art in France.

I wasn't ready for the appraisal I received.  Nothing about the print was right.  Not one iota!

I was trying to state my case.  The wood was too hard.  I used a crooked pine board.   I used ink instead of the proper print paint.  I didn't have a roller.  The paper I used was not card stock.  I really liked the feel of it.  I tried to demonstrate a spatial relationship of the 2 trees.  There was variation of in ink tone.

My teacher demanded to see my carving knives, which I did not bring.  I asked instead for my teacher to base the critique purely on the merits of the image alone.  Why must one involve my carving knives.  Why couldn't we talk about whether the print surface was properly primed or not.  So the discussion evolved to discussion of whether one could do proper Chinese brush calligraphy with a brush for house painting, or must oil painting be done on canvas, etc.

After much discussion, the take away I got was that there are distinct traits of merit for every discipline.  For example we kept talking about bi-fa in brush strokes, be it brush calligraphy or brush painting.  Correspondingly, wood cuts need to demonstrate the way of the knife, for lack of better terms.  It was this lack of knifesmanship that doomed my print.  I failed to demonstrate any control of the edge.  What I deemed as pleasing, i.e. the wood grain coming through, the mottled look etc. should not be and could not be a substitute for proper cutting technique.

This reminded me of my own blog  Isn't Being Cute Enough?  I was too preoccupied with the First Time fever to see it.  I fell into the same pit.  Thus my lack of skill in wood cut was not concealed by
any sorts of pretence;  at least not in the eye of someone who knows.  The advice for me:  don't rely on gimmicks to save me.  Learn to do it properly.

This is what I like about my teacher.  The ability to conduct open, thought provoking discussions.