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.
Downtown Oregon CIty Elevator No 2. is the second iteration of this unusual Oregon landmark. The first is enjoyed in a private collection yet, I wasn't totally happy with the first attempt. New and improved version in terms of composition.
New work in the series "Working The River." The longer I work on this project, the more closely I observe operations like this, the more concerned I am for the earth.
She Speaks From Both Sides of Her Mouth. Pastel on archival paper 9"x12".
I've been doing a massive clean out of the studio and surprised to discover how prolific my work is. This commentary was made in late evening, the time of walking between the worlds when the subconscious directs the impulse rather than the daytime mindful push forwarding a body of work. Late night expression is so different from the "real" art I make. I've dismissed most of it, not showing the work, not acknowledging these outliers. Images tucked away until I forget about them. Time to let them live and breathe.
That was then... Acrylic on canvas. 40 x 30.
Deep in the corner of a Christmas box, I found a kaleidoscope, an inexpensive trinket bought on a whim to remind me of childhood. The magic is in smoke and mirrors, creating fractals. As I turned the barrel, I had a fleeting thought of how the planet and people on it resemble the toy. We are each a beautiful color, part of the world design. Yet, we divide into factions, each group believing their cause is the one to "fight" for the right to be right for. We classify and categorize and specialize each other and our alliances. We scramble to compete for cash to fund our pet project. The Big Bad Other isn't destroying us, they don't have to. They are using the divisiveness between us to their advantage. What if we took the word fight entirely from our vocabulary? What if we channeled the same level of energy to respect each other, rotate our opinions a few degrees, and coalesce into a bigger picture of cooperation, consensus and unified whole? Technically fractals go on forever and don't end at the edge of our myopia.
Three generations of Wyeth's at the Portland Art Museum. Newell Converse is hands down my favorite of the work represented in this exhibit. He apprenticed with Howard Pyle. His illustrations join many artists of that era - Maxfield Parrish who influenced Fred Machetanz, Minerva Teichert who studied with Robert Henri - in the pursuit of narrating history and their social/cultural experience.
Almost finished is not the same as completed. The stage where I can find any distraction to avoid making a commitment to the ending. The shapes and shadows of the reflections and buoy need refining. While the values are more accurate the colors need minor adjustments. Enjoying the new muted palette.
About this time every year, I feel as if I'm being dashed against the creative rocks. I'm beginning to realize I have a yearly artistic cycle and summer is my Kali time to clean out the studio, cogitate, regroup ~ especially when it's hot weather. Rain, cool and a little Elvis later, here's a block-in for a painting continuing my "Working The River" series. Of course, there will be a few more sessions of push - pull adjusting the paint and values with brushes or knives. I'm happy to have something on a canvas and understand creativity is never permanently broken.