by Susan Lobb Porter | Art, Work in Progress |
Spent so much time in the studio lately, Mr. Spouse almost put my picture on a milk carton. It was only the sound of loud music rattling the windows of Studio Grande that convinced him I hadn’t gone far.
Oh…if only he KNEW!!!
I went to Arty Life BLISS. I listened to music. Danced. Meditated in the comfy corner. And recycled all sorts of stuff.
Like old books and journals. Really, who needs to buy new when you can just gesso over the old stuff. Life is all about layers and textures anyway. The book up above was a journal from 20 years ago. A few pages of blah blah stuff about life back then before I got bored and stopped writing in it. So I gessoed and glued pages together and transformed it into what will be an art journal.
Ohhhh…but I used too much gesso. You can only paint one spread at a time. Rather than pour the gesso back into the bottle I started on another book.
This one is The Artist’s Way. I think turning it into an art journal is positively delicious.
Then it was time to give new life to old canvases. I found a bunch of ’em during the recent move/purge, Bunch as in they must’ve been breeding like bunnies because I swear, I NEVER made that many half-assed, half-finished crappy WHAT was I thinking??? paintings in my life. So I slapped on some gesso, tore up some paper for texture and scribbled with charcoal to get rid of the arctic blindness.
By the way, notice the tools. There’s a brush. There’s also a skewer and a credit card, two of my favorite mark making devices. Ummm…lemme see…and in the photo down below there’s that black circle thing I salvaged from a slide projector tray and the beige cone from a microwave angel cake pan. Nothing is safe when it comes to making marks.
Don’t be confused by the can of furniture polish. That doesn’t belong there.
I ended up with a dozen repurposed canvases of different sizes. Here’s some of them ready and waiting for da muse.
Somewhere around the middle of the R&B playlist (I Heard It Through the Grapevine) I looked out the window and saw Mr. Spouse working on his next project…Studio Grande’s soon-to-be patio. Can’t keep a good man away from concrete… Or maybe it was Marvin Gaye. Yes, I’m sure the musician in him was diggin’ Marvin.
Meanwhile, back in the studio I didn’t really have any idea or direction what I was going to do with all those canvases. Just started painting. Two of them told me what they wanted to be.
They’re still works in progress. I believe this will become a series of striped (pronounced strip-ed) animals. For an Etsy store. I don’t have an Etsy store yet but stay tuned.
Confession: Truth in Blogging Disclaimer
Oh my best beloved sweetums, a couple of months ago when I redesigned Arty Life, I made the grand proclamation that I would post something EVERY day. Mwhahahaha! What. Was. I. Thinking???
I wasn’t thinking about my sanity, that’s for sure.
So I’m pulling back. I’ll be here a couple of days a week. Monday. Definitely Monday. That’s when I’ll show you what went on in the studio over the past week and weekend. Later in the week there’ll be other stuff…photography or apps or musings about life. But right now I don’t have a schedule, only the sense of freedom that comes from knowing I’ll have that many more hours to paint. Or play.
I think it’s called SUMMER!
YAY!!!
by Susan Lobb Porter | Artists, Life |
“I owe it all to art books, chocolates and young men”
Artist Beatrice Wood, when asked the secret to her longevity. Her most productive years were between the ages of 80-105
Whoot Beatrice! My kind of woman!!! Handsprings and black flips My. Kind. Of. Woman!
Because I’m gonna be a kick-ass old lady myself. Yes indeed, I surely am.
I come from a line of women who are direct descendants of the Energizer Bunny. They keep on going and going and going until their batteries run out somewhere around the century mark.
Barring unforeseen circumstance, like Kim what’s-his-face throwing a temper tantrum with a nuclear warhead or maybe a meteorite landing on top of my head, I plan on hanging around for quite some time.
But not just hanging around.
I plan on BEING here.
Painting. Writing. CREATING. Dancing. LOVING. Moving. Laughing. Learning. And GROWING.
Making a damn good time of it.
There will be chocolate involved. Family and good friends. And when I finally cross over, I pray it’s with a smile on my face and paint under my nails.
Oh, and that novel I haven’t finished? It’s not too late. Beatrice published her first in her late 80s. The first of four under her own name. There were others published under the psudonym Countess Lola Screwvinsky. Screwvinsky? Hmmmm…methinks Beatrice was a kickass old lady herself.
by Susan Lobb Porter | Art |
Spring. The time of birth. Rebirth. Renewal.
You know what that means, don’t you? I mean, besides OD-ing on leftover Easter Peeps and getting your hands dirty in the garden. It means…ta-da… it’s time for Bird Being Born!
Alert! Alert! Crappy photo alert!!! Sorry about that, the good photo is on the computer at work. This is a bit blurry but you can get the idea.
‘Bird Being Born’
Helen Powell
©2012 Neighborhood Center of the Arts
Acrylic on canvas $200
This gem was created by Helen Powell, one of the artists from the Neighborhood Center of the Arts. I’ve been teaching there since forever, although I use the term ‘teaching’ loosely. I provide materials, music and help the artists find what it is they do best.
With artists like Helen, who are totally self-directed, we just step out of the way and let their muse guide them. Helen is a true outsider artist. If you’re not familiar with outsider art or art brut you can read about it here.
I love my job.
by Susan Lobb Porter | Art, Work in Progress |
Or birthin’ a painting.
Once upon a time there was a canvas. A big puppy, 48 x 48 inches. She came into this world Artic White.
On the color charts, that is the next step below blinding.
So I fixed her good. With black. And gray. Hints of red oxide. Some pretty light blue. And all manner of marks and scratches. This is a closeup, a small sample of the overall look.
Which soon changed as I tied it all together with Titian Buff. Another small sample.
Then layers and more layers, knowing in my heart that red would play a major roll in her look. Like a slash of carmine lipstick.
This is where I left off today. I’m not finished yet. Before I left the studio I flipped the canvas upside down.
Ahhhh…that was MUCH better. The weight of the red needs to be on the bottom. You have to trust me here, the camera would not cooperate. The battery was exhausted. No lie, EXHAUSTED. That’s what the notice on the screen said.
If you have good insurance you have my blessing to crane your neck or turn your monitor upside down so you can see what I mean.
Or you can come back later in the week to see the finished painting. That’s probably a better idea.
As always, I’d love to hear from you in the comments below. Unless you’re complaining about your neck and/or the broken monitor….I don’t want to hear about THAT at all. 
by Susan Lobb Porter | Art, Process, Work in Progress |
In the beginning…
She said, “Let there be marks.”
And lo, she made all manner of marks within the paint.
While the music shook the studio, she sang. And danced. And jumped up and down on concrete playing a mean air guitar.
The marks became layers. And the layers became more. And more.
And she became sore of shoulder. Developed a knot in her back. And her knees and hips screamed quit jumping up and down on concrete!
But she arted on, saying, “I’m taking one for the (art) team.”
(Actually she said “Holy Crap! I’ve got a show in a month. I can’t stop painting now!!!”)
The photo up above is supposed to be a square. Who edited this anyway? Oh…me. My bad. 
Until the painting spoke to her and said, “Wait, I may be done now…or maybe not. Go do something else for a while and let me think about this.”
And so she did. But I won’t confuse you by showing the start of the new painting. Not in this post.
Disclaimer: Despite the size differences between the photos, these are indeed the same canvas. It’s a big puppy, 48 x 48 inches. As of yet it has no name. For now we’ll call him Red Bob. He is the first cousin to Red Dreams, a much smaller oil and cold wax I did last year. There is a strong family resemblance.
As always, my sweetums, if you like this please pass it along to your friends. And be sure to take a minute and say hi in the comments below. I will bake you a chocolate cake if you do. And I will eat it for you too, because I am your friend…and that’s what friends do.
by Susan Lobb Porter | Art, Life, Parents |
I’m clearing out the cottage. The place where Mama spent her final seven years, the place that once was my studio. I’m getting ready to rent it out.
At this point it’s not the big stuff, it’s the things in the drawers and closets. The things on the shelves.
The things I’ve been avoiding dealing with.
Mama’s things. And mine.
Yesterday I filled my car with books. Art books I haven’t looked at in years.
Books I once thought I could never part with but now I realize I’ve grown beyond. Way beyond.
I don’t need them anymore but others will find them useful, will be as excited as I once was to open them up and learn new techniques. So I took them to the thrift store, the one that provides medical care for the animals in the local shelter.
It was a good place for my books to go.
A few days earlier I took another carload of stuff…mugs, kitchen things, linens… this and that’s that were once the everyday of Mama’s life… I took all of that to the Hospice thrift store.
Because we owe so much to Hospice.
Today I walked into the cottage, looked around and thought Holy crap, there’s still a lot of STUFF here!
The stuff I never wanted to deal with. Like shoebox (size 8) stuffed to the rim with notes and cards from when Daddy died.
I looked through them, reading each and every one and wondered if Mama did that from time to time, before her vision failed her. I read them, notes from people I haven’t seen in years and years. Notes from people I never knew.
I set one letter aside, the rest–box and all–went into the recycle bin.
Because it’s time to move on.
I loaded up my car with more things. And then I went up to the new! improved! Studio Grande. Cranked up the music. And painted.
Because I can’t think of a better way to remind myself that life goes on.
