In between working on my Feminine Wiles series, I found some time to create a couple of paintings for two girls. One for a girl anyone has yet to meet and the other for a girl I know and love so well. She is full of sunshine and fire and sass.
My niece Samantha is on the brink of leaving childhood behind and beginning her journey as a young woman. For her 13th birthday, I decided to create a painting for her that felt like that journey. The little painting I created was my contribution to Project #2 for the We Are the Contributors project, whose theme was beginnings. Read more about my thoughts on the piece here.
samantha | beginnings
The Beginnings piece was the first thing I’d painted in nearly nine months. After getting into my Feminine Wiles series, that style of painting feels much more natural for me, so when I look back on this one, it’s not my most recent favorite. But it was a first effort and a step in the right direction, which I hope is what Samantha will always remember about any beginning– it’s scary and strange, but you don’t know what will happen until you try.
idaho sunrise | palette
The second piece I completed recently was a little artsy gift for a few of our Idaho friends expecting their first baby soon. We could have bought something off the registry, but with our limited travel space, I’m embracing any excuse to paint on a larger canvas and then give it away! Our friends are outdoorsy like us, but not super modern, so I didn’t want to go too crazy-abstract for their soon to be daughter. The image on the right is from the bedding they selected for the baby’s room, so I wanted to create something that would compliment the color scheme without trying to recreate that motif.
The finished painting is 12×24 and I think it will add a nice pop of color to her room and something peaceful for mommy & pop to gaze at during late night feedings. Thanks for taking this little artsy detour with me! Will have a new Feminine Wiles painting to share soon!
Here goes, ya’ll, I’m ready to share the second painting in my new series, Feminine Wiles( see the first one here ). This new series of paintings are abstract color studies based on the fashion of iconic female film roles. While Faye Dunaway as Bonnie Parker in Bonnie & Clyde may not have been the most glamorous of wardrobes, it definitely conveys a sense of the time and of the character.
Dunaway’s earthy neutral wardrobe palette fit well with her role as a woman taking on a life usually the domain of men. Yet Bonnie’s fashions still maintain a sense of femininity and aren’t entirely cold– a bit of warmth showing through the callous exterior.
Faye Dunaway as Bonnie Parker, acrylic on panel, 6×6
What do you think, Artsies? This series is making me so uber aware of the way color is used in film wardrobe design. And it is an excellent excuse to stream some classic films!
Source for Dunaway image linked above. Artwork by Lesley Frenz.
If you’re following along on Instagram, you might have noticed a little sneak peek into something I’ve been working on lately. Since starting my #colorforaging2014 project at the beginning of the year, I’ve had more creative energy than ever. And I’ve begun taking full advantage of it. I’ve always worked in a series format ( thanks, Prof. Ladnier for creating that habit! ) and have already completed 5(!) paintings in one series while my mind is pondering, researching, contemplating the beginnings of seven more different series of work.
Early on, my above mentioned college painting prof labeled me a colorist. It’s true, I’ve always been drawn to color and color theory. I’m sure one of my first experiences with color was in admiring the fashion in my favorite curl-up-on-a-Sunday classic films. As a little girl, I imagined myself in those beautiful clothes, becoming those charismatic leading ladies. Then as a grown woman, I’ve found myself analyzing the use of color in the establishment of character– the reasoning why the film’s costume director chose that particular gown in that particular shade for that particular scene. There was a method to all that beautiful madness.
Each series of paintings I have in mind will deal with the psychology and effect of color in some way. For this first series, which I’ve tentatively titled Feminine Wiles, I’m focusing on the fashion of iconic female film characters, especially those used in scenes in which the character is capitalizing on her feminity in some way.
Each piece is a small abstract portrait of that character at the moment and how the character is defined by that particular costume choice. All that intellectual stuff plus I just love pretty dresses and pretty paint..
The first painting in the series is a study of Audrey Hepburn’s Holly Golightly from Breakfast at Tiffany’s. While the character’s series of elegant little black dresses is synonymous with the character, I’ve always been drawn to the pink Givenchy cocktail dress. The character wears this confection while in the midst of wooing her Brazilian millionaire would-be fiancé. She is no longer fashioned as cool and elegant, her style for Jose is warm and feminine and festive. It is such an interesting contrast to the devastation that happens later in the scene.
Through a sequence of layers in shades of grey, red, purple, pink and white in acrylic on a 6×6 inch canvas panel, I finally came to a point where I felt like I had a representation of my own interpretation of the character in that dress, in that scene.
Audrey Hepburn as Holly Golightly, The Pink Dress by Lesley Frenz
acrylic on canvas panel, 6×6
I’ve always worked on larger canvases in the past but our current vagabond lifestyle doesn’t include much room for storage of bulky canvases. I would love to translate these BIG, but for now, these little studies are proving satisfying. I can’t wait to share more of the Feminine Wiles series with you! Do you have any iconic female film characters to suggest? I have a list of possibilities, but am completely open to suggestion. I’ve been focusing on classic films, but may eventually move into contemporary characters, too. Can you tell I’m having a ball and completely obsessed with this? I hope so, because I totally am!
Art and logo by Lesley Frenz/Artsy Forager, other image sources linked above.
I began 2014 determined to get back into an artistic practice. I feel like this part of my life is filled with so many starts and stops. It’s too easy to let it slide when other things come up. It’s too easy to choose watching BBC serials rather than sitting and drawing. So on January 1st, I started my #colorforaging2014 project, in which I’m exploring a different color in paint each day and posting my finds on Instagram. I hoped that this daily exercise would feed my desire to create and making it an Instagram project would help keep me accountable. And you know what? It has.
And it’s teaching me some things about myself as a person and artist ( I’m trying hard to accept that label ).
1 |I have to make time to do the things I want to do. If I don’t carve out specific time, I’ll always find other ways to distract myself, with previously mentioned serials, web surfing, work, etc. This Instagram project has forced me to spend at least a few minutes each day with my palette out and a brush in my hand. And those few minutes have made me ache for longer, more dedicated time– I’m usually doing my #colorforaging2014 project immediately after dinner cleanup, but rarely do much else creatively in the evening. So when Mr. F announced that he was planning to spend Sunday afternoon brewing beer, I announced that I was going to spend the afternoon painting.
2 | I need accountability. There was a reason for saying out loud to Mr. F that I was going to paint on Sunday. Because I knew he would remember and ask me why I wasn’t painting when I sat on the couch and watched back to back episodes of Doc Martin on Hulu. I have all these grand schemes and ideas in my head but if I don’t get them out and tell someone, much of the time, they never leave the comfort of my mind.
3 | I need deadlines. I am a procrastinator by nature. And a perfectionist. I think those two traits go hand in hand. I procrastinate because I’m afraid of my results being less than stellar. But I know that I need practice to improve and grow. But the perfectionist in me hates it when my efforts result in disappointing work. Such a vicious cycle! My niece Kendall told my sister-in-law ( after I’d already purchased & shipped her Christmas gift ) that she wanted a painting from me for Christmas. So I decided she will have one as a birthday gift in June! Deadline established. But her sister Samantha’s birthday is coming up on February 3rd, and how could I not give her one, too? Deadline established. I also signed up to be a Contributor for the February 2014 project for We Are the Contributors. Another deadline established.
4 | I need to seize moments of inspiration. Every day I see little moments of life that I want to sketch. My coffee cup and its shadow. The funky yellow chair in the living room. Mr. Forager’s profile. But often I see the inspiration, note it, then let it just slip by. No more! From now on, if I see beauty in a moment, I want to try to capture it. My sketchbook now lives on our coffee table instead of hidden in a bag. There is a felt pin with it always. Even if I’m just inspired to doodle, I need to do it. Because once I start, I don’t want to stop.
5 | I need mini-projects to spur creativity. This truth applies to my blogging and freelance work as much as to my fledgling art practice. It’s so easy just to do what I’ve always done, but in order to grow and evolve, I need to challenge myself. The mini-projects I’ve done on Instagram get my wheels turning in so many ways. I find myself challenged to look at things differently, to come up with new angles on old ideas. Painting is my first love, but not every project has to involve paint. It’s about finding new ways of seeing. I want to learn to weave and throw pottery. I want to find new ways of approaching the world.
6 | I need to mess with the just OK. In some things, good enough is good enough. Like making the bed or doing laundry. It isn’t perfect but its done. This attitude doesn’t fit for an art practice that is about growing, learning and evolving. When in college, I was a pretty good artist. Then in the following years, I became an OK painter. Being OK is no longer OK with me. Now, I’m finding myself bored with the type of work I would have been happy with a few years ago. On Sunday, as I was working on a little 6×6 canvas ( which you’ll see when the WAC February project is revealed! ), I arrived at a point that was OK. Not bad, but not super fantastic. Not exciting. I hesitated. I wanted to do something bold to it, feeling like it needed a push. But I was afraid to screw up the OK. I hemmed and I hawed. I tried to visualize a bold change. Then I watched this Philip Guston video. He didn’t settle and neither should I. So I took the chance. And that one change prompted other changes. Until I was left with something I liked. Something I daresay I am proud of.
I feel like I’m making progress. Its slow, but building up a good habit always takes time and effort. How about you, Artsies? Do any of you struggle with some of these issues? How do you face them down?
Have you made a list of resolutions for the new year? I’ve come to prefer the term goals instead, as something to shoot for, rather than promises to myself I’ll feel guilty about when I fail to keep them. In looking back over 2013, especially the last 9 months or so, something was missing. And that something was my creative passion! Sure I’ve been blogging like mad ( and loving it! ) but creative time away from the computer screen just wasn’t there. So I decided to force myself into a tiny little daily practice– enter #colorforaging2014!
Each day in 2014, I’ll be playing with paint and discovering color. Sometimes the color will be straight outta the tube, but more often I’ll be Ms. Mix-A-Lot, mixing paint combos and will share 365 days of my color finds on Instagram.
I’ve always been drawn to color, fascinated by the way different shades interact, color theory and the psychology of color. A painting a day was a bit too much for my slightly commitment-phobic soul and I felt the need to get back to basics. So exploring color each day seemed like the perfect way to dip my toes back into the artsy water!
My hope is that by starting on this simple exercise each day, once the paints & brushes are out, I won’t just stop with that daily mix. Instead, I hope to feel the push to continue, to paint, to draw, to find color and inspiration all around me and to truly see it and grow not just in my artistic practice but in the way I see and approach the world around me. Just this morning, I’ve already seen half a dozen examples of Naples Yellow ( color #1 )surrounding me without even leaving our apartment!
I hope you’ll follow along with me, offer up your own thoughts on color, and most of all, keep me accountable! I’ll post a new color daily on Instagram, ( follow #colorforaging2014 ) but will only occasionally pop in with a #colorforaging2014 update here on the blog.
I’m so excited about this and what 2014 may hold, I can’t even tell you, Artsies. I’m ready to give up what doesn’t really matter for what makes my heart sing. I hope you’ll join me on my color-filled journey! Follow along on Instagram, #colorforaging2014.
I feel like such a slacker, ya’ll. Not in general, because I’m working my little tushy off doing freelance work for art consultants, galleries and artists— which I’m super excited about! The business of being artsy is picking up steam, but the act of doing anything truly artistic has been on the back burner for what feels like a long time. And I’m definitely feeling its absence.
It’s funny how being in the desert, which wasn’t necessarily our ideal spot, fostered a creative spark I hadn’t felt in a while. I think it had much to do with three things: the lack of distractions around us, Mr. F doing online coursework meaning lots of evenings and weekends I was left at loose ends, and probably the main reason– a lack of tv in our Joshua Tree rental. I’m working hard, sitting in front of the laptop for at least 8 hours each day and there is always more to be done, so I’m finding it difficult to truly disconnect. But I do so want to. But this blank page is very intimidating right now!
I want to start a little daily creative ritual. But where to begin? I’m almost fearful of even mentioning it here because what if I punk out and don’t keep up with it? So I want to know, especially from those that are working artists AND working at another job– how do you carve out the time? Do you find yourself doing little things daily or do you save up all that energy for occasional, long, productive creative bursts?
And any recommendations for a small paint-friendly sketch book? The paper in my current sketchbook is more for dry media and I’d really like to start a little daily paint practice of some kind. I know, excuses. Just wanted to through this out there, let you know that if you’re struggling with the same, you are not alone!
It’s not you it’s me. Ok, it’s not you, it’s us. You know how much we love you. How much we dreamed of Mr. Forager finally getting a contract here, of me finally living in a city where there was art overload. There is so much about you that’s perfect. You don’t believe me? OK, here’s a list–
Stunning views in every direction. We never cease to be amazed when the mountains “come out” ( ie, the clouds break enough to see the distant Olympic Mountains, Cascade Range & Mt. Rainier ). Few cities can boast such natural beauty.
Overabundance of delicious food choices. Coming from tiny Joshua Tree, CA, it felt like we went from famine to feast. Whatever our stomachs were desiring, you could deliver– sushi, Thai, Vietnamese, German, Mexican ( Senor Moose! ), and some of the freshest produce and seafood ever.
Diversity of humanity. We love seeing different colors of skin every where. Mr. Forager loves it when he meets a patient who has immigrated here from a far off place. It makes us feel like a part of a much bigger world.
The art. Oh, the art! It’s almost overwhelming, the amount of art happenings, museums, and galleries in the city. Tonight, there are at least half a dozen different events going on and I want to go to all of them. And the diversity of the work to be found is as varied as the people who live here.
You’re just a beautiful city. Last night, we walked down to a little park near our apartment with a view looking back toward downtown. The sun was shining brightly from the west but the city was backed by clouds. And we were reminded of the elegance of your skyline and your architectural beauty.
If we were going to live forever in a city, you would be it. When we came to you, we were overwhelmed with joy to be here, to be back in the Northwest after a long six months in the desert. Before we knew it we had signed a twelve month lease and I started looking for a full time job.
But then something happened along the way. As much as we adored you, something was off. We felt uneasy among the noise and the crowds. Our hearts longed for quiet and wilderness and a slowed pace. We’re just not sure we’re cut out for urban life. And we longed for adventure. We really hadn’t planned to stop traveling so soon, circumstances came about that kind of pushed us in that direction, but then the tide seemed to turn in the other direction almost as quickly. If we settled down, we knew we would miss the excitement, we would miss out on exploring all sorts of places we might never see otherwise. So, dear Seattle, as much as we love you, we just can’t stay. Please can we still be friends? We so want to be.
So remember when I shared with you the story of my foray back into painting? And how my first go ’round, though initially painful ended in a pretty positive way? I was so excited, so elated to get back into it! My head was swimming with ideas for this new series of work and I couldn’t wait to dive back in the following weekend. ( Gotta be a weekend painter, I just can’t seem to do it during the week. )
Things did not go as well the second time around.
Mistake #1 | I moved my makeshift studio from the large picture window just off the kitchen into the spare bedroom. Smaller space and not nearly enough light. And the grey blue of the walls in that room are depressing.
Mistake #2 | Reusing an already painted canvas board but not gessoing over the old painting. Rookie mistake. I know better.
Mistake #3 | Not buying gesso. Or perhaps this should have been listed as Mistake #2, as M2 might never have happened had I actually purchased gesso.
Mistake #4 | Trying to utilize the exact same technique used in the first painting even though a different technique was actually working quite well.
Mistake #5 | Walking away and letting the canvas sit for the last week and a half.
So I’ve learned a few lessons from this experience.
Lesson #1 | If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. Should have kept my little “studio” where I had it. Since Mr. Forager was working at the table in the kitchen, I was trying to be considerate and not disturb him ( I like to play music when I paint, sometimes accompanied by questionable singing ). I ended up listening with headphones anyway, so think it would have been just fine to stay put.
Lesson #2 | Don’t try to be cheap or take shortcuts. You’re never happy with the result ( see Mistakes 2 & 3 ).
Lesson #3 | Just because it worked for you the first time doesn’t mean it will work again. See Lesson #1.
Lesson #4 | Get over the fear of sucking. It’s OK to take a break, but don’t let fear freeze you. I am a task-oriented perfectionist. If I can’t do something really well, I hate doing it at all. So this is a hard one for me. But it’s a lesson I need to learn and put into practice. And not just in painting but in every aspect of my life. Friend & fellow blogger Erin at artsocial wrote a great post today about this very issue!
So I am determined to try again. Move the easel back into the sunny spot with the mountain view and try again. Buy some gesso and try again. Get over my fear of failure and try again. And again. And again!
Artsies, how do you do it? How do you overcome that paralyzing fear of getting it wrong? I’m also looking for a little evening creative activity for the iPad. I’m not an evening painter, I’ve learned that over the years. I’m kind of a middle of the afternoon on a Sunday painter. But I would love to have some non-messy creative playtime in the evenings. Any paint-y iPad apps to recommend?
I hope you don’t mind if I get personal. Something has been missing from my life. I was seeing it every day from all points, sharing with you when I found it elsewhere, yet finding it lacking for myself. I’m talkin’ about the ARTSY. You see, once upon a time, I could paint. I could draw. And I loved it. But post-college, life happened, I got a string of “real jobs” ( art related, fortunately ) and in general, the busyness of life took over. Occasionally I would dust off my paints and brushes, but those creative rendezvous where growing fewer and farther in between.
You might think that the perfect opportunity to get back into it came when Mr. Forager & I began traveling. No longer would I have the constraints of working a 40+ hour work week, no longer would I be maintaining and upkeeping a house, we’d be far from family, so no excuse of making time for everyone but me. And I did think about it. But it scared the daylights out of me. That little voice inside ( you know, the nasty, mean one ) told me I’d waited too long. Any skill I’d cultivated and talent I’d had was gone. Who was I to try to be an artist? I worked with and personally knew so many phenomenally talented artists. I didn’t feel worthy of even trying to join their ranks. So I choose to stretch my creative muscles in a different direction– I wrote about those phenomenal talents here on the blog. All the while knowing something was missing.
Instead of cultivating my own creative spirit, I’d thrown all my energy into celebrating the creativity of others. Please don’t get me wrong, I adore creating, writing, and developing Artsy Forager! Yet I find myself feeling envious of all the artists I was discovering. HE has such a way with paint, SHE can draw like nobody’s business. I wanted to get back the artistic mojo I’d been missing. For Christmas 2011, Mr. Forager gave me a new set of acrylics and a full-size foldable easel. I’m ashamed to say I can count on two fingers the times I’ve used them. There always seemed to be a reason not to. But now we’ve been here in Joshua Tree for 4 months with 2 1/2 more to go. We’re in a house big enough for me to have room to paint. No more excuses.
So Sunday, while Mr. Forager was brewing beer, I got out my paints and brushes and set up my easel. Underpainting, done. Easy enough, just a wash of phthalo blue. There was a photograph I’d taken of rocks in water that I decided to use as my jumping off point. I sketched in the shadows and forms and started pushing in color and highlights. But it wasn’t working. At times it looked OK, I started to remember what I loved about the process, but then it all seemed to fall apart. I hated what I was doing. I didn’t find it at all creative or inspiring. Mr. F could tell it wasn’t going well. He lovingly reminded me that this was supposed to be fun. And correctly pointed out that maybe I was just trying too hard. I continued to stew and then just got mad. At myself. And with that, I did what most angry artists would do– I destroyed what I’d done with more paint. I slashed cadmium yellow and alizarin crimson all over the tight, controlled mess I’d already concocted. And I immediately felt better. And inspired.
I continued just freely pushing paint, slashing, spraying, muddying, wiping, taking a break and then doing it all again. Mr. F brought me a glass of Kona Koko Brown, one of the few beers I love, and I continued to play. I forgot that I was trying to make “art” and just enjoyed how the colors were working and what the paint was doing. I could see something emerging that made me happy. I was loving the way the colors were mixing, the way light was coming through. I had a breakthrough. You can see the results of my day below.
Kintla Lake ( detail ), acrylic on board, 12×16
Do I think this is the most fabulous inspiring painting I’ve ever seen? Not even close. But compared to where I began that day, I’m pretty happy. It feels good to have a visceral connection to paint again. I have a long way to go. But I’ve vowed to try to create something every day, whether it be just a sketch or a quick study in paint on paper. I’m even inspired to begin a series ( more on that later ). My creative muscles need exercise. I’m sharing this with you because I’m sure you’ve experienced something similar. And because I needed to tell someone. And I need accountability. So if you don’t mind, I’ll occasionally share a little of my own artistic journey. It will be nice to have some company.
samantha | beginnings
