OH! The Woes of Perspective

I just don't get it, so . . . I'm trying to learn. Here are the links I've looked at so far. I've printed hard copies of some, but I don't want to lose them, so . . .:

The Helpful Art Teacher

Artist Network Articles

How to Draw a House in 2 Point Perspective

Perspective Made Clear

Draw/Sketch Perspective

And this website, just for fun (and because teachers have the same response, whether art or English):

The Angry Art Teacher

Learning a New Term: Pochade

The following information is from:  Pochade

The term ‘Pochade’ is derived from the nineteenth century French verb Pocher meaning to sketch. The word itself, however, holds much more meaning and inspiration for it is a gateway to endless potential.

The Pochade box is normally of smallish proportions. The exact size and materials may vary, although the traditional box is wooden and must have three consistent elements. The first of these factors is a hinged lid which aptly rests at the correct angle to use as an easel. Ingeniously the dual purpose lid also serves as a storage space to safely transport the drying master pieces. The second element is a palette, which neatly rests on top of the lower section of the box. It can normally slide to one side thus revealing the third element- the storage space for the artist’s materials.

This miniature portable studio became very popular throughout the 18th and 19th century- particularly with artists such as Turner and Constables. It was a practical way of being able to seek out new places and challenges and then transfer them back to the larger canvas in their dwellings. In spite of the obvious advantages the Pochade box became shunned by artists in later generations until the mid 1980s when a Pochade revival began.

Typically Pochades are small pieces of art work created in under an hour using mediums of oil, pastel or watercolour. They have the versatility to be created in plein air, in the quest for perfect light, or inside man’s own creations. There is no need for elaborate detail or a deluge of easels and artist materials. Pochade painting is designed to be a swift facilitator of the muse. The artist sees the inspiration, opens the box, pours out his soul and closes the box- leaving him free to experience and be inspired yet again. The result is a three dimensional capture of line, colour, tone and mood.

The Pochade stands for much more than a transportation mode of convenience. It stands for freedom; freedom of mind, freedom from limits and freedom of space. It is an accessible portable way of experiencing art for what it is, how its roots began and ultimately what it will become. It is a way of capturing life as it exists at this very moment. A pocket sized postcard of the senses.

At some point, I hope to summon the courage to paint en plein air. Right now, the concept is challenging, but daunting; I can't see investing the sort of money I see that is often spent on easel, pochade, umbrellas, clamps, and the other needed or helpful items that seem required of artists. Since I am a very long way from being a professional, I believe I will be working from a tv table, with my desk top easel strapped down--perhaps by duct tape. Perhaps I should call this blog the Redneck Piddler. lol.  I know I will feel inferior to those with more experience, but I think before I can even hope to invest in this effort, I'd best see how the initial foray turns out. Preston has said that he would like for us (his two students--Joy and I) to enter the paint out competitions in Barnesville and Madison.  ha!  Terrifying. Of course . . . if we want to learn and employ what we've been taught, even as amateurs, I understand the reasoning, but  . . . still . . .  I was planning to do the next plein air at Generations Gallery, but had not considered anything other than that. So . . . IF time allows, over spring break, I will attempt to get something like a plein air set up configured.  . . . minus the standing easel, pochade, and the other accouterments.  Redneck Inventioning, here I come! 

Office Sketch and Value Study

Looking for a new subject to paint, I went through old, old photos I took once upon  30 years ago. I ran across one of a sad, forlorn looking house and tree. Their very starkness and barrenness were apparent in the photo years ago and still seem that way to me. At any rate, whether they will become a pastel painting is anyone's guess. I tried to create a values study using Tombow Dual Brush Pens, of a grayscale palette.  It's not quite right, but . . .  that's okay. That's why it's just the initial idea & sketch. Besides, in my next life, I'll be perfect.  Lol!!

Clouds #3

A few posts down, there is the original photograph that I snapped from my car, and, above that, the watercolor. Here is the pastel painted from the initial photo and watercolor. It looks fuzzy and out of focus because it was painted on velour paper. If you're familiar with velour fabric, you know what the paper feels like. Joy Morgan was kind enough to give me a piece of the paper for my own use and experimentation, and the clouds seemed to be an appropriate subject for the fabric-like paper.

I've read several reviews of people on www.dickblick.com who love this paper; I'm afraid I don't share their enthusiasm. I find that the subject of the painting makes the difference in the support I should use. A painting with great rough texture might call for U-art paper; the clouds did work well on velour; clairefontaine paper is the best paper for almost everything; mi-tiennes is good for many pastelists. I don't like it at all.  Of course, it comes down to personal preference, as in all things.

A Poem for Late February

Where this poem came from:  

This observation simply occurred to me today, when I came to work. I have noticed this young woman this semester, and I did consider telling her how nice her hair was; then it occurred to me what her reaction might be. And it made me think that we now live in a society in which we can't even accept a compliment from a stranger, and that that stranger might not want anything at all--except to acknowledge someone else's humanity.  The last two lines of the poem are ego-centric, but with the intent that the "first person" speaker could actually be anyone, as easily as it could me. 

Observation and Confession

I noticed this semester, same time, same place--

a young woman and her laptop,

sitting in the foyer of the building.

Her laptop, being open, I noticed first:

blue swirls on background of white—not waves exactly—

at least I don’t think so. Swirls. Lovely really.

And she is, too.

Young, blond, slender, comely.

Today her hair no longer fell in a cataract to her shoulders;

It was cut, just below the ears,

making her seem older, her eyes larger, lovely still.

What I wanted to do was to sit beside her,

tell her that I noticed her, her hair and laptop,

let her know that she needn't sit alone.

But who was I to do such a thing?

“You won’t believe what happened today,”

I could hear her tell a friend. “This woman

just sat down and started to talk to me. She’s been

watching me this semester—same time, same place

when she came into this building.

No, I have no idea who she is—or what she wants.

Telling me how nice I looked, with my haircut.

I think she’s nuts.”

Indeed, surely I must be; for all I would ever want

might be for someone to notice  . . . me.  

Sunday Play

What I love about watercolor is that it's quick, fun, and I don't feel that it has to be well done. It can be simple and still serve a purpose. This morning before church, I was flipping through various pictures I'd taken  the last few years. I found a photo I'd taken on the road home, about a half or three-quarters of a mile from our house. I'd tried drawing it once before, but knew then even less than I know now, so I'd left it alone. Today, since I was just piddling, I decided to sketch it, then use watercolors. Somewhere along the way, I began to see the tree's shapes and began to understand what Preston has been saying about shapes and clumps of color. It's waaaaay not perfect, but then, I'm learning that it doesn't have to be perfect to recognize  a concept. I just have to keep piddling and at least I begin to understand the idea, even though I don't yet execute it as well as I'd like.

So . . . The Road Home:

To distract myself from additional homework this afternoon, I tried to draw & paint in watercolor a lovely little gosling I was lucky enough to snap a picture of. It's very cartoonish, but I had fun: 

Painting a picture

Writing a poem

Saying a prayer . . .

They are, in truth, all one.