Still sifting through layers of work from forever ago. Actually, was looking for sketch paper this particular size for a new experiment and found a few clear pages in the back of the book. Of course, spent several minutes side-tracking through the older drawings. I liked this one. People have asked me how I manage the “unusual” technique I use. Simply comes out the end of the pencil.
Wandering around Florence stumbled on this bascule bridge across the Siuslaw River. I was captivated. The camera was not and jammed after one shot. Several sketches later, I used this image for a black and white drawing, a transfer in the Living Their Memories series and this painting. The symbolism of the classic arch endures.
Everything about making this painting is happiness. Every single brushstroke, glaze, wipeout. I was born on the water and have a house close to the beach. Grew up on the working docks and played underneath them when the tide was out. The colors bring joy. The geometry soothed. E.T and Me.
Exquisitely content when it's so quiet I can hear the paint drop into the interstices of the canvas. Pure heaven. Closeup from a new painting, Siuslaw River Bridge, Florence Oregon.
Does anyone else ever have a painting that won't grow up and leave home? This one came close to a dose of gesso. Why is totally curious to me. Could be the figure this one is painted over wasn't happy about her outcome. I was happily rambling and when I saw this quaint water tower, I was totally charmed. Then the painting became so high maintenance, I finally told it if it wanted to survive, it needed to go find a home of it's own.
Experimenting with different papers and surface treatments. May have found one I want to pursue. 24x24ish. This may grow up to be a painting one day...
The first painting from Working The River series. A professor suggested to us, if we wanted to develop a "style" and loosen up, we needed to paint one substantial painting a day for a year. Spend at least three hours with a 16x20" ish canvas everyday, no matter if we were sick, just dumped by the boyfriend or the world was ending ~ we paint and at the end of the year we'll know who we are as a painter. This piece was my brave beginning of this era ~ a return to oils and to find out who I am again in the work. Completion took double the time over the course of a couple days. As a more mature artist, I learned I want to take some time with painting. I don't want a quick date, I want a whirlwind romance so when I pass my work on the street I at least know the name.
Some things crack me up and I wonder if anyone else sees the humor in life around us the way I do. This door is several stories up in the Blue Heron Paper Company. As if a few frayed ropes would stop someone who is determined to ingress or egress. Part of the series showing this fall.
Tried to "slow down" and "get normal" in the sketching this morning. Couldn't pull it off. It's best to move out of the way...
I was running out the door with the old standby charcoals to a life drawing session. Passing the pastel cup I subconsciously pulled a yellow, red and blue to take along. I realized these are the colors I see reflected off skin by warm lighting. This portrait drawing was relegated to the shred pile, however, when I pulled it out a month or so later the image held a certain something I still can't identify. #roxannecolyerart #pastelpainting #drawing #makingartmyway
Some days are diamonds and some days are still stone... with a nod to John Denver and songwriter Dick Feller. The trick is to find the diamonds in the piles of buffalo chips.
Fowl Abstraction. Acrylic on masa and Strathmore drawing paper.
Having so much fun with children's styrofoam cards and an old chopstick. Acrylic colors with a pin press to transfer. Can't possibly do anything serious in July... or August... and possibly September.
One of the first from the Working The River series. The series was inspired by the Willamette River Falls old mill buildings. This image pays tribute to all of those who worked hard all of their lives while dreaming of a romantic getaway.
I guess my color voice is coming through loud and clear and here to stay. And why conform in the first place? This is a quick figure sketch in acrylic paint from so long ago I can't remember exactly when... seems it was 7 or 8 years ago and about 16x20 inches.
Drawing is like exercise. We can accomplish a lot in 30 minute increments.
Without art and music in the world, there are some mornings I wouldn't get out of bed. So thankful I can hear and see and feel the beauty. In Alaska, Dad hauled boxes of vinyl and reel-to-reel into the middle of nowhere every time we moved ~ even when light plane or boat was the only access. We woke up and went to sleep to whatever music matched his mood. He blasted Sousa or Strauss down the valleys because he could. He'd bring us boxes of the latest Disney soundtrack or Rock n Roll 45's if he went into town. Dad would have loved Spotify or Pandora. Freddy Mercury is one of the great composers of the last century. Here Tolga Kashif pays tribute. And I can make it one more day.
Started this painting the day before Kilauea spoke... I love the Big Island.
However, for the sake of sanity, the work must be declared enough for now.
Don't tell the rest of the garden but this little nook of bulbs nestled into the base of the Empress Tree is my favorite part of spring.