by Diane: Update #4, Inspirations incubating

Thank you Rain for putting up a detail of my painting, "Fantasy" as the blog header.   It is a female strong 2019 fantasy interpretation of Henri Rousseau's "The Dream".  It is still a painting in process. Missing is a monkey and tropical birds hiding in the tree. This change will not change this header.

Playing more with knots to plan the second in series.

 Sunday I anticipated some days this week would be so challenging that actual hands on involvement, even for a few minutes, would not be possible. When this post is published, my husband and I will hopefully be learning how he can heal after no improvement from the hiatal hernia repair 12 weeks ago.

Bok Choy

I love vegetables and fixing them.  I spend hours cooking for me and my husband, so as I cook I am preparing to paint. I continue to seek forms that speak to me.

Purple Cabbage

Some of the waste is just too precious to eat.
Last year we couldn't get the bok choy to grow. Maybe the heart will grow better than seeds so loved by the purple finch we invite into our yard by feeding them sunflower seeds.  Maybe these beauties will inspire new work.
                              

 

 Maybe the purple cabbage will be part of an assembliage. I have many ideas. Too many ideas are better than none. Maybe I can tie them together soon.

 

                      

by Diane: New Decade/ New Year's look at my life as an artist

 Before considering my resolutions, this decade, this year, I question my life as a practicing artist. In my current stage of life going on 77 years of age in 2020, I consider my age and the changing of our living location or remaking our home to suit our needs - an expected soon to be reality.  Plus all the conditions of the world around me need to be considered. Putting aside immediate issues for awhile, I consider some hypothetical possibilities far from my reality.
      How would I practice art if I was a Yellow Hat Tibetan Monk? Will such an improbable question stimulate an enlightened goal?


What is missing from the monk's painting paraphernalia?
 No rags? No large container of water to clean brushes?
No container of many brushes?
Only a thermos for his tea and another for water to add to his paint?
Only stir sticks in paint pots to keep paint at the exactly right creamy consistency.
Are the sticks in each color pot tipped with a brush head down in the paint?
Do I remember a few hand made brushes?
 If he uses a different brush for each color, the purity of his colors would be maintained
without contaminating cleaning water or rag. He will not contaminate the environment.
His method insures no waste of precious mineral colors.
Can a brush remain in a gouache type paint without ever being cleaned?
Did he paint with sticks?
Do I see a receptacle for scraping off and collecting excessive paint before applyication?
Knowing his exact working method does not matter.
I have an idea of how I can change my work space process.
 

      I remember my first impression of the artist monk August 13, 2002, at the Drepung Monastery in China, Tibet. Seeing his fascination with my sketches and pen, I handed him a brush pen that I was using. He wanted to try it and I gave it to him for keeps. In my sketch book he drew a self portrait. Later at home I painted Pintolanden ( my poor phonetic spelling of his name). I clearly remember my impression because when I came home, I painted him. His studio was rich in color. I was impressed how cozy he was in stark contrast to the desolate landscape outside. Above all I wanted to work from color pots like his.

The monk's drawing of himself.
 I never explored the meaning of his pose.
Or the meaning of his Buddhist name.

My painting reflects how suited his work space was
to making Thangkas. It should be an ideal space
for meditative, spiritual painting
but I saw this space was impacted
by the world of soda pop and clutter of
plastic bags from recent shopping.
Over his robes he wore a sweater
and under his robes - sweat pants.
He had Western style running shoes.
 On the floor was an open paperback book.
Possibly a corrupting novel?
 

        Historically monks painted meditatively soothed by repeating the same traditional details with minimal need to make independent choices. All their colors were spread out in little pots so they could paint continuously without interruptions to prepare the next color. So impressed, was I that I found a couple of clam shell plastic boxes in which I put  a quarter cup of each acrylic color. I grouped colors that I often mix together. Spritzing them with water whenever they start to dry, these colors remained workable for months. Now I see much more that I can use from the monk's art process.

       On a deeper level, I was impressed in 2002 by the impact of the world on the Tibetan painter, "Pintoladen". He was not isolated from the world.  Tourists like me must be interrupting his work rhythm. He was making thangkas not just for the monastery and local Buddhists but for tourists who may or may not be on a Buddhist spiritual journey. The sale of his work along with other spiritual items made at the monastery supported the monastery in today's world driven by money. Today's world is not perfect.  Neither would returning to a theocracy be better. In by gone ages, the peasants provided for the the ruling monastery.Now it is moneyfrom maybe the Chinese government and tourists.

        At home in 2002  I failed to think of our core similarities and differences until now when I watched a film about a Buddhist convert. Next Wednesday's post will be a review of "A Buddhist with a Camera".

In the next couple of Wednesday posts,
 I will update what kind of art and how I make my work space
comfortable and workable.

    

Joy and Sorrow of Being a Prolific Painter in a Small Space

Interestingly my studio has all paintings that satisfy me and the rest of the house has more unfinished work that I  like seeing from many different angles and lighting before making changes.
I feel satisfaction and contentment and joy when I surround myself with work that satisfies me as comfortably completed. It need not be perfect. I like looking at work that over a long period time never says to me every time I walk by, "Psst, as soon as you have a moment, I need to be  touched up with a face lift. 

Being as prolific as I am, I  could quickly fill our home with art giving me the feeling that I am caught in an uncomfortable web. I  learned to withstand the sadness of destroying some of my work. 

Happy am I since I almost always keep space open.

To make space for both my husband and I to live comfortably, and welcome visitors, downsizing my collection of my own art is necessary even if it is like pulling teeth.  I go through my archives over and over again.

We need to keep space open for both of us to work and play. Conscious effort is made to display my art work,  improve storage. We keep only the stuff of everyday living that we need in addition to retiring some of my older work.  So various methods are helpful in reducing both excessive duplication in everything that surrounds us. Over the years I am always bagging stuff to donate. Many trips to the grocery store include dropping off a bag of donations. Last year I was lax and now I am back on track on donating.
Just working at  tackling  a little at a time giving me a feeling of accomplishment with each little step.  Happy am I that I have a few paintings that from the start all the variables fall in place.

Even if others do not like some of my alla prima paintings, they are among the ones that worked for me and I am fondest of them because I remember every time I look at them the experience of painting them.

Painted on a pea green background every color I put on was working with the whole right from the first stroke.  I kept the added patches of color open with the green threading through the entire painting.  Then just a few lines drawn  more from a muscle memory of a dance than thought out beforehand.  With the lines I decided the abstract was pulled together.

Hart Lake Creek  on a 1971 pack trip on our way to Lake Chelan, a sentimental painting! I treasure remembering our trips every time I look at these paintings. I do not care that some art critics would say this painting is two paintings, one being the tree trunks and the other being the creek.

 

I am a sentimentalist so my permanent collection is a diary of my life memories.

Part II, Diane Widler Wenzel on How I Hang the Pictures I Paint.

I couldn't be happier with last Sunday's  lunch with visiting family to celebrate 120 paintings hung at home and then the public art opening at Albany Public Library's main branch.    A sister-in-law commented,  " I could hang way more paintings than I ever thought I could. "  upon seeing how I hang groupings between large empty spaces.  One of my daughters wanted a grouping of 3 paintings from the corner fireplace installation in the dining area. The home celebration and reception made me feel loved by my supportive family and friends.

Part II of how I hang paintings continues with examples of how empty spaces around the paintings are important to their effect on us.  Also covered are my experiments in hanging solutions in the dining area and the entry from the kitchen to the laundry room.

Dining with Paintings that Contribute to the Room's Ambiance

Below is Don eating and a panoramic view of the green paintings that he sees from his side of the table. I selected for him green, his favorite color. Green is clean looking and soothing.

Below is Diane and a panorama of what she wants to see - a cozy corner:

Walls of three entries frame paintings.
From the front door the eye is apt to look beyond on into the dining area with busy activity and also paintings.

From the kitchen entry to the dinette the view includes empty wall space.

The  hall from the back of the house. 

The cool colored green paintings and white matt make the warm colored collage dominate the grouping. The collage is suppose to be the first thing seen.  Then looking at the collage the eye is directed leftward by a  shape pointing to the warmer colors in the green paintings, thus the eye moves around this grouping. The green vertical painting with a black matt counterbalances the warm collage. For me this group works. I hope that it works for others. Purhaps the reason Don slows down as he eats is because he has some greens around him.

To frame or not or hang out from a corner?

Two of the paintings and the collage are framed with oak frames made by my fantastic partner, Don. The paintings that are unframed work better in a grouping?  Or do these frames isolate them acting as obstacles preventing the eye from moving from painting to painting?

I feel none of my groupings have to be perfect because my hangings are works in progress. I am learning and do not know all of the answers. I like to ask, "what if," as I decide the next grouping.

 

An innovation for me is to draw attention to corner paintings by hanging them so the sides are on opposite walls. The kiddy corner arrangement makes them more dominant especially when walking down the hall from the back of our house.  From down the hall the left side wall is at too much of an angle to see what is happening in the paintings hung flat to the wall. Corner paintings work less like windows on the wall and more like a three dimentional architectural fixture that I have difficultyillustrating in a two dimentional picture.

For the coldest wintery nights we remove paintings close to the fire box and keep a fire burning.

 Paintings are clutter busting by creating distance in tiny laundry / fly tying / utility room.  

In this cluttered place I see the painting before the clutter. How about you?

After adding a painting with deeper dark green depth to the wall behind the sink,  there is a greater sense of depth. I feel less cramped.

Because of the humidity of the laundry room I do not leave pictures here for long periods especially during the winter. 

Rotating paintings is a favorite way to get inspired for making more paintings. Some of the ones I will be rotating are stored in my studio.   I will show my studio with storage cabinets in the next blog, Part III, How I Hang the Pictures I Paint.

Part One: Diane Widler Wenzel on How I Hang the Pictures I Paint

This post is about hanging art in my home but first a brief announcement.
Everyone is invited to my painting exhibit, "Water Speaks,” opening tomorrow Sunday, October 22 at the Main Albany Public Library upstairs in the periodical area between 1:00 PM and 3:00 PM. The library is at 2450 14^th Ave SE. The paintings can be seen during regular library hours until October 31^st.

I am Diane Widler Wenzel, a fine arts painter with a large collection of my own art. Over the past 65 years I have sold some of my art but still have a big representative collection of my own creations. I like to live with my paintings so I rotate them. I swithch paintings around every time I start to clean house. Revolving art gives me a lift in spirit like living in a newly remodeled home. A recent epiphany came to me while washing windows and hanging 114 works in my home to show to possible clients.

The way paintings are displayed in a home can change how we feel.   You bet they can.  Painting groupings can even improve how I feel about my spouse's habits and different likes.

My husband Don and I live in a 1950's vintage, 1,200 square foot, one story, ranch style house. The living room is long and narrow with a long gallery wall facing a large picture window providing north light.This gallery has expanded over the years to every available wall space in the house creating an uncomfortable, visual stimulation overload. Bright active paintings were jumping out at us everywhere. So I have come up with ideas on how to hang more and more paintings so they both energize and sooth us. My aim is to make our home beautiful for both of us.

When hanging my painting I consider the views of my work from the locations we occupy during our daily doings.

For 32 years on my living room gallery wall I have auditioned my latest work next to older pieces for comparison. Also, I view them here before choosing the final touches. Since my epiphany I understand Don and I view the wall differently from our different easy chairs, the computer, the coach and when we enter the house. Don and I gravitate to different places with different views of my paintings so I can select his favorite impressionistic works where he is most likely to see them. I place more abstract warm and active paintings in the locations I see them.

I didn't use to think as deeply of how my work was effecting Don. Now I understand that my husband and I want to live in a comfortable space for both of us where we can be free to spread out our activities without the confines of decorator magazine perfection. He can lay out his fishing gear and prepare for his next trip. I can paint in either the livingroom or dinning room when it isn't nice enough on the patio.

 The shape of space around the pictures in a grouping is very important in making an overall impact.
 

Intuitively I have hung the largest paintings at the entry into the living room creating the impression that the wall is longer. The spaces between paintings is larger at the entrance than between the paintings at the end. The stair stepping of heights, and different sizes create an interesting negative space around the paintings. This shape around the pictures makes an overall casualness that impacts our feeling about how we want to live.

 

The more active are the color contrasts,

the greater the need is for a larger surrounding empty space and order.

 

 

Hanging next to the window is a painting called “My Palette My Table” in which I, with an open bag, stand small, practically unnoticeably harvesting lushious color. This painting is energizing to me but also is orderly because of the repetition of squares. Repetition goes beyond the painting. Squares and rectangles in my chair space include the stacking of abstract square paintings on the white wall, the lamp shade, the Guatemalian tapestry and the picture window.

I view this island of energized order at our computer desk where I am immersed in an island of clutter, I am too close to the gallery wall to see the casually hung paintings but I do see Don's island of doings and an occassional hat or pair of sandals. For a rest I can turn towards the window and my corner chair with the energized large painting made orderly with repetition of squares within and surrounding the painting. Then beyond to the empty front door area with empty walls.

A balance of motion and rest is not a newconcept to me but now I can apply with love to my relationship with my husband. It is as true in a painting as it is true when considering how to hang paintings in the architectural spacet o make a home our oasis of activity and rest.

Coming in Part Two of How I Hang the Pictures I Paint will be about our dining area, kitchen and laundry room. I will share ideas on making better use of corners that get visually lost. Discuss museum wrap, frames and  framing pictures with the architectural elements in the room.  Part Three I will show my studio/storage with ideas for storing more art in a small space with easy access for making rotations throughout our home.

I believe every painting collector has a different living space and different needs that their collection can satisfy. Collectors not only own a part of someone elses creativity but they can embark on a personally rewarding, creative journey of their own in finding what gives them the most satisfaction in how they display their collection. Perhaps some of the principles I have discovered here and the ones in future posts will be adaptable to your own collecting process. I hope you will share some of your experiences here in comments. I am still learning.