I had the fun experience of giving an interview about my artwork in the Evolving exhibit at NEXT Gallery. It was the first time I’ve done something like this, and I was pretty nervous. But it was great to be able to talk about my background and how these paintings combine my education and work experience with the subject matter of my art. Check it out!
How I Create: Sketching in Wet Paint
I am sometimes asked why I prefer working with oil paint, and the answer is always multifaceted. Top of my list, though, is that it is slow-drying and therefore moveable and blendable and markable. If I need to move a line or a shape, I can literally push the paint with my brush or palette knife, or scrape it off altogether. If I want to change the color, whether in value or hue, I can paint over a layer of wet paint with white or black or another color and it will mix in with the layer already on the canvas. Likewise, if I want a soft edge or a gradual change in color, I can go over the paint on the canvas with a clean brush or knife to blend it until it has the effect I want.
One of the most fun outcomes of the slow-drying characteristic of oil paint is the ability to sketch in the wet paint. I have a rubber-tipped tool (sometimes called a wipe-off tool) that I use for this.
Inevitably there will be a point in the painting process where I need to adjust a shape or location of something in my painting, or mark where highlights need to be applied, or remove a precise bit of paint, or reveal the color on the canvas beneath the wet paint recently applied. So I pull out this handy little double-sided stick and carve out the image I want, like sketching in the wet paint.
This editing typically happens about halfway through a painting, and usually I continue to paint over my sketch marks to the point where they are no longer visible. But sometimes I like to leave a few marks in the final painting, revealing bare canvas (white) or toned backgrounds (blue, red, or orange).
Sometimes I stop after sketching in the wet paint, leaving the sequence of applying paint and then taking it away starkly visible.
And, almost always, I sign my paintings with this tool.
Daily Painting, take 2
As I have done before, I am returning to the practice of Daily Painting to get myself in front of a canvas again every single day. Its not that I don’t want to create, its just that it can be difficult to paint on command when I am out of practice. Sometimes it feels overwhelming, sometimes too rigid, sometimes uninspiring or in conflict with my mood. Daily painting eliminates all that by giving me the freedom to paint anything I want, in any medium and style. Every day I create a new piece with the intention of finishing it on that day, all in one sitting if possible. Canvas sizes tend to be small, and not everything is a keeper, but it allows for a lot of flexibility and experimentation and fun.
The first week of my return to painting after taking an extended break because of child care and covid-related issues, I painted outside every day. It was therapeutic for me to be “out of the house”, even if I was on the back deck with a dog at my feet. I painted trees, imagined and real. Plein air painting (painting outside, in front of your subject, with the changing light and weather) is really hard for me - it is difficult to translate a 3D object into 2D on a canvas and have it still have depth. And it is hard to not make stuff up - to not change the color to suit my mood, or to ignore value as I tend to do, or to add a happy little tree over here and a friendly little branch over there… Not that that would be against the rules for plein air painting - the artist has creative license to change things up however they want. But I aim to improve painting from real life, and as the weather cools down this fall I plan to get out to some parks and nature spaces to practice this more.
The second week, battling a virus (that thankfully wasn’t covid), I moved indoors to my dining room table and played with abstract painting in acrylics on paper - a far cry from the representational paintings in oil on canvas that I typically do. This is another area that I am wanting to improve my skills - I am way too logical to easily create abstracts. I understand the elements of art (line, shape, form, space, texture, color, and value) and how they relate to make an interesting painting, but creating a painting of something that is not actually anything is wayyyy hard. But that makes it wayyy fun, too! It feels good to do something different and hard, and I feel that improving my ability in abstract painting will benefit my representational painting as well. Time well spent.
The third week I finally moved up into my studio. I had an itch to paint still life of flowers - kind of like painting plein air but with a controlled light source and composition. I set up my space with a black background, a bright lamp, a bunch of flowers (fresh and silk), and have been painting still life flower arrangements ever since.
Back to Our Previously Scheduled Programming
With my son back to in-person school a few weeks ago and the routine of our daily lives returning to a normal pace, I have finally been able to return to my work as an artist. The first week of school especially felt momentous and important for both my son and me.
However, now that I am “returning to work”, I’m finding that I’m having to find my creative mental space all over again. Picking right back up where I left off pre-pandemic doesn’t feel genuine. The world is a different place, and the time that I’ve spent away from my art has let me re-evaluate where I need to focus my time. I am still excited about my art and many of the pieces that were in-progress when everything shut down, but I am more excited to experiment, to focus on improving my paintings in the areas that I know I need to grow. Then I will continue on the important pieces that wait for me on my studio wall.
With this tenuous break that, for now, allows me to return to my work, I am focusing on being in this moment. I am painting again, almost daily, with my music playing in the background and no interruptions. I know I have to put in the miles (in paint) to get to where I want to be, and I can’t wait to get started!
Hokeilen Art is now coming to you from Denver, Colorado!
My family and I moved this past summer to Denver, Colorado - a destination we have waited a decade to return to, and we feel relieved to finally be “home”. Moving during the pandemic was more tricky and stressful than normal, and moving my art business added a whole other layer of complexity. But, I am happy to say, Hokeilen Art is now coming to you from Denver, Colorado!
With every move comes chaos and distraction and a chance to reset. A new house to fill with our stuff and daily routine, a new community to learn and find our place. And for me, a new room in which to set up my studio, organize my supplies, figure out lighting and fresh air and mental space for art. It takes time and patience and optimism. And now we are here, settled, and ready to get on with life.
But this pandemic stretches on. Getting “on with life” doesn’t look at all the same as before-covid. Time to create is no longer mine alone in the house but shared with time to help my 5th grader with online school, time for added household responsibilities, time with family in the house. This leaves little time/energy to find a new artist community to get involved with, and no time/motivation to find exhibiting opportunities. All of this is harder and frustrating and depressing. But not impossible. It is just a new routine within this new reality. And all things considered, being able to paint at all sometimes feels like a luxury. I’ll take what I can get.
from top left, 1: The room that would become my studio was a bedroom at the top of the stairs. The carpet and soft blue walls would need to be changed, but the lighting, ceiling fan, space, and location was perfect!
2: We had a month in our new house before our stuff arrived, giving me time to put down a more mess-friendly rubber flooring and paint the walls a neutral white with gray trim.
3: Household goods delivery day was in late July. But unpacking and organizing my studio was a task that got pushed down in priority (it is better to eat and sleep and function, especially when everyone is at home all the time).
4: One of the first paintings I finished while in my new studio was an abstract. I find abstracts sooo challenging, but much more interesting and expressive. I still have a lot to learn, but am encouraged - figuring out how to paint abstract will help me with composition and color and value in all my art.
5-8: My studio today in all its messy, cluttered glory. I set up my art festival gallery walls (dark gray) to hang pieces-in-progress. Unfortunately, many of the pieces that were in progress 6 months ago are still in progress, but such is life during covid. I now have three easels/stations on which to work (two in the 5th image and one in the 7th), complete with several pieces-in-progress.
8: I’m not completely set up in my studio, but someday this space on the other side of my gray walls from my easels will be a small gallery to show visitors what I have been working on (without the clutter of my workspace). For now it works as storage.
Adapting to our Socially-Distanced World
While we are staying home through the Covid-19 pandemic, daily life has shifted to focusing on staying healthy and adapting to a new normal. Old routines and all plans have come to a screeching halt. Our calendars have shrunk to this week, or this day - there are too many unknowns beyond that to make plans, and the weight of worry and unpredictability and loss have left me with little motivation to deal with what isn’t right in front of me in this house and on this day.
For nearly five weeks, I have avoided my studio. A dozen paintings in some state of progress, many very nearly done, wait patiently for me to return. But the fear of messing something up when so many things in life are messed up right now, and the energy required to fix a mistake, which is a normal part of painting, seemed too exhausting, too hard. I haven’t had the mental space or energy for painting during this pandemic, but I miss it, and my break to focus my energy on just surviving is ending.
Yesterday I sat down at an easel, squeezed out some paint onto my palette pad, and finished a painting that was in-progress. Done! It was a big victory for me, a little bit of getting my life back to normal.
Works in Progress: SpaceScapes
I have been busy working on several space-themed paintings that I am collectively calling SpaceScapes. These pieces are done in stages, starting with a simple value-based application of oil paint with brushes, then applying thick layers with palette knife, and finishing with brush as needed for detail and glazing. To prevent cracking in the paint, I have to make sure each layer dries/cures (which can take months) before applying the next, and so these paintings take much longer to create. Some of these works-in-progress include four MercuryScapes, a Mercury-inspired rocky-planet hemisphere, a 5-piece MarsScape, a MarsScape that I may never be happy with, a few Sun-themed pieces, a cat looking up at the stars (because art can be funny too), some experiments in abstract painting, and several sketched canvases waiting for their first layer of paint.
Painting Crows
A couple months ago, with the cooler temperatures and the start of the school year, I was able to resume my morning walks. I typically keep a fast pace and track my mileage, walking primarily for exercise, and covering up to 500 miles in a year. Walking is also a great opportunity to think about my painting goals and plans, get inspired about what I want to paint next, plan exhibits, and brainstorm opportunities to show my work.
These walks often find me wandering on paths through local forests. Being in the trees is so therapeutic for me - I find it incredibly calming and centering and inspiring, like looking up at the stars on a really clear night or watching the waves crash onto a beach. When I enter the forest, my pace slows and I try to pay attention to all the details - usually I am trying to find the deer that I know live in the woods, but often end up seeing other special things: a coyote crossing my path, big bullfrogs in a puddle, lizards on a tree, a turtle in the leaves, spiders spinning their webs, interesting plants or rocks or tracks, giant ancient trees, or areas where, for no obvious reason, all the older trees have died and the undergrowth is enjoying the access to sunlight. I pick my way over logs and across streams, stopping to watch the birds or squirrels, peering into the leaves at any rustle. Sometimes I will stop on a bench along the path and close my eyes and focus on the sounds and smells (it is so difficult not to look at every little rustle or birdsong) and was rewarded once with a fox walking very nearby when I finally opened my eyes.
It was on such a walk about a month ago that while watching the birds in the treetops, I was so impressed by the crows flying with them. They are such smart birds, and really quite beautiful, that I couldn’t wait to get home so I could start painting them.
Six crow paintings resulted from that little obsession. The four that remain are a welcome reminder of that day and my many walks through the woods, and how good things come when we slow down and pay attention.
I'm on the cover!
Or my art is anyway! My piece, Lunch Date in Del Ray, was selected for the cover of the Del Ray Artisans 2020 calendar. I feel so honored to have my piece selected!
It is Feminine to be Smart
Sitting at my table in my studio one day, I was preparing canvases for various paintings that I had in mind to create later that week. Looking over my shoulder as I sketched was the 9 year-old daughter of friends who were in town for spring break. They had just returned from a day of exploring the museums and monuments of downtown Washington, DC, and while the rest of the family rested from their busy day, she wandered into my studio and quietly observed my work, eventually asking questions. So we talked about my process and the ideas I had for different projects.
One of the pieces I was brainstorming was for an upcoming show at the Del Ray Artisans Gallery called “Sacred Feminine”. The curators of this exhibit were looking for artwork that sought to break female stereotypes and unhealthy societal pressures on physical appearance and behaviors, while at the same time celebrating femininity. For this, I wanted to create a piece that featured women in science, and to show that it is feminine to be smart.
So while looking at my mostly-blank canvas with just the hint of two eyes and a nose and outline of forehead that I had lightly sketched onto it, we talked about how I would make the eyes look like galaxies or supernovas or something cool like that. She suggested the rings of Saturn (this girl gets me). I described how I wanted to carve equations in the paint on her forehead, which got a skeptical but-I’ll-humor-you-this-time look from my young friend. She suggested instead I could paint a woman that is balancing motherhood, work, and domestic life, with a baby on her hip and a pot in her hand and thoughts about work swirling above her - representing the many different ways we as women are pulled, and contribute, in family and society. It was an honest and creative conversation that made me think about the importance of communicating these issues in both what I create and how I live my life.
It wasn’t until after they left for home that I was able to paint the piece I had begun with her in the studio. I decided to model the woman’s eyes after the Crab Nebula because of its historical significance, and because it is beautiful. The Crab Nebula formed when a star in the Taurus constellation went supernova. When this happened about a thousand years ago, the exploded star suddenly became visible from Earth and was observed as a new star by ancient Chinese astronomers. Later, after telescopes were invented, it was viewed in more detail, and is listed as the first Messier object (M1) - a famous catalog of astronomical objects. It was tricky painting the Crab Nebula and also making them look like eyeballs, but the intent is there. On her forehead, carved in the paint, are physics and astronomy equations - the tools used to define and characterize the objects we see beyond Earth.
I am very happy with the way this painting turned out. For me, it shows how science, and the effort and awe of understanding our universe, can be a spiritual part of our existence. Happily, too, it was accepted into the “Sacred Feminine” exhibit at the Del Ray Artisans Gallery for May 3 - June 2, 2019.