The Value of Values

One of the challenges I am trying to master in my paintings is values.  I think it has a lot to do with the excitement I get out of using the brights.  And what I have discovered is that the brights look much more alive when layered over the appropriate darker values.  This absolutely aligns with what my instructor has told me.  Coming from watercolor, I am in the habit of starting with very light values and adding the middle and finishing with the darks.  That is not quite what I do with pastels but for some reason I have been grabbing the middle values in their most intense, truest hue, and then trying to fix it, adding darks and lights and eventually making a muddy mess.  So I am resetting my brain.  No more jumping in feet first without a plan.  From now on I am taking my time.  I am studying the subject to determine the order of things: where are the darkest darks?  middle darks?  Is it time to spray a little fixative to stabilize the layers before proceeding?  Patience is my mantra.  All good things will come when the time is right.  Better a slow great piece of art than a speedy mediocre waste of time and paper.

A Break from Classes

My sister is returning to California today.  We pick up my grandson in Chandler on Wednesday and come back only to pick up my daughter and son-in-law from Seattle at the airport around 11pm.  We have all three of them for about a week.  So I am taking a break from pastel classes for a session.  I may still make it to some of the drawing and watercolor classes around the family visits.  I think all of the classes will be on sabatical through most of June, July, and August.  So...here is where I become the dedicated artist that works independently and steadily without supervision or deadlines.  Hmmm.  I have always worked better if I have structure.  I know it is just a mind trick but I may have to give myself assignments and block out a calendar.  Meanwhile, I have some housekeeping to catch up on before company arrives.  And babyproofing.  Which involves stowing the pastels safely away.  It only takes once to remind me of the potential for trouble.  My grandson, Hunter, once got into my transfer paper and was only to happy to show grandma his graphite blackened hands.