Archived Comments
Enjoy the past comments below for Patience…
I find, the camera doesn’t see what I see, now why is that?
Forever remains the anticipated expectations of a tropical storm descending upon Rosemary Beach Florida. The open “bar” shared upon the sanding shores with good company excited my creative energy! Coasters became “the finest watercolor paper”. I wondered
how the pigments would adhere as I gathered six coasters into my purse. Feelings of “just being” embraced my soul as I settled beneath the pier.. Darkness hovering over the sea, wind by now fighting the elements became my mentor,(never to be forgotten) . To just be…such a wonder … “patience ” yes…a rearward. Yet~”Within oneself be true”.This is a beautiful letter, Robert! I’ve been working on some still life paintings lately. The longer I look at my still life set-up, the more I see in them, more color, more bits of light, more interesting shapes.
My dear husband died two months ago and I have found that my creative energy is grieving too. I started with still life.Patience is an art itself. And there is no greater teacher than a garden. A garden is a work in progress and requires patient time and contemplation since it can take a season or two for one’s effort to show results. Perhaps that is why many great artists cultivated gardens. Think Monet!
Very appropriate advice for the days of our lives..IN THIS DECADE. It is hard sometimes to remember that slowing our minds is what keeps us individuals (I call it “stilling” myself when I sit by our ocean..in the forest,look at the robins..
Thanks for your weekly letters. This 89 year old ex-teacher (English/Art minor) appreciates the talk of beauty, not whether a man or a woman does the visible representation others see via paint and color.Today’s message was especially appropriate for me as I always carry my camera and lately just snap pictures of “the” moment instead of sit and let it sink in. I do carry my tiny sketchbook and tiny watercolor paint set too, but have gotten lazy and have just been snapping pictures instead of soaking them into my sketchbook.
I only want to express my gratitude for the gift of this newsletter. It is very instructive but beyond that it brings me into the fellowship of like minded individuals. This particular lesson was and is much needed in my life. Oh, I checked the light fastness on my paints and found that they are excellent. Phew!
This sounds familiar. I hope that I can learn a little from this message.
Patience is indeed a virtue hard to achieve in this age where everything is so technical. It is hard to contemplate and really think deep. We have deadlines to meet and places to go. When we are painting we also tend to rush it and see the outcome of our efforts. It is important to lay back a little to really look at our progress and see how we are executing the vision of our composition and let our brain and our eyes really work together to achieve the best potential of the painting. Is the image we are looking at the same as we envisioned it to be? We have to have patience to accomplish what we envisioned. We have to think back what made us choose this subject and what they mean to us. It is only then we can truly appreciate it. Thank you for the lesson in patience.
I am finally having an art show at age 67! It’s only 4 paintings, and the quality is variable, but it is a really good feeling. It’s in a local coffee shop, and a friend bought one of them based on my announcement! I think it’s given me more incentive to do series and to explore my art so I can share it with others.
This is exactly what I needed to hear as I’m about to embark on a plein air workshop in Provence!!!! I haven’t the faintest idea how to begin and am counting on Julian Merrow Smith and fellow painters to guide me through it.
As a still life painter I too use my camera to help compose my painting but my other nervous-tension-busybody activity is tea! I have to discipline myself to stop hopping up to make another cup of tea. I’m sure it’s helpful to step away from the canvas and take a fresh look – but enough tea already!!!! I will try to exercise patience and connect with the subject in a more meditative way. Thanks for the nudge!If you wish to learn patience, become a keeper of bees.
Beautiful. Just the reminder I needed today. Writing from a public officce having forgotten my reading glasses, I found a moment to go online (as one can increase the text) and found this. My mind and heart shifted instantly from “oh my this is slow” to ah. yes. Thank you! this made my day!
A work of art is an object of contemplation. Naturally, it should reflect the artist’s relation to the real world. Hand-held devices obstruct our focus on our actual environment.
The camera is of course a highly valuable tool for an artist, particularly now since the advent of digital, but, as always, the tool needs to be handled with care, understood for what it is, and not take over.
Maybe we are entering an era where mankind is going to burn out with busyness, overcrowding and exploiting the last bits of the earth, while losing the ability to contemplate, be poetic, artistic, and patient.
With the digital camera, images have proliferated and become very cheap. This has had the effect of devaluing the work of those who hand-make visual art. The fact that people point and shoot without recording very much about feeling and understanding is endemic to our age. It may end up taking us in other directions.
I remember an old uncle of mine that was visiting my brother in Ottawa Canada. One day my brother was taking my Uncle Sid to see the parliament buildings, after touring around the buildings for a while my brother asked Uncle Sid if he would like to take a picture. My wise old uncle smiled looked at my brother and tapping his fore finger to his temple replied “It’s all here son, it’s all right here.” My Uncle unlike so many of us today took the time to absorb what was around him and truly experience what he observed. My Uncle Sid was a greatly loved man and I think you can understand why. We need presence to experience the presents that are before us.
I spent the good part of a glorious day in Freedom Park yesterday taking photographs with my iPhone because the scenery and beauty around me was so glorious I wanted references for paintings and didn’t want to forget anything. I am, however, returning with easel, canvas, and paints in hand and I’m going to soak it all in. Freedom Park is in Charlotte, NC. Oh, did I say “Thank You?” I now know what my problem has been all along – depending too much on the photographic image reference and not my minds eye.
Patience is a problem with many of the painters I come into contact, especially those I teach.
To help break this habit of rushing in too soon and working, I have everyone sit and look at the model or the scene and just ask some questions i.e. Where is the lightest lights? Where are the darks? What is this painting going to be about? and so on. I want them to not pick up a tool and spending some time looking. Invariably, they don’t spend enough time thinking, but its a start. We are all in too much of a hurry to get it done which is a sign of the times.Hmm! so to be an artist I have to be patient and I mustn’t use a camera. You’ve got to be joking.
I’m a newer artist just about to start on my final project. It will take about a year. All the comments on patience and photo references is really helping me plan out my work. 300 photos to find 8-10 sites, then I will go out to sit, observe and sketch. Only after all of that will I paint. Thanks for helping me justify my procrastination! It may take a year before I have the nerve to show you anything.
I am delighted with what you wrote in this letter on Patience. I’m a contemplative artist. I sit with my subject and absorb it. No camera. No need for details. They are all in my heart. (I leave my head out of the process.) Then I paint on site or return to the studio to capture my contemplative experience. My art is about my “sharing my contemplative experience”.
Your last newsletter hit with perfect timing. I was in the middle of teaching a 3 day plein air class. So, after reading your installment on patience and experiencing wholeness in the great outdoors, it was saved and read to my class. We took inspiration from the idea of slowing down and observing more, as part of our creative processes.
It was a beautiful day here, we went to a sweet spot close by, with many layers of depth. Our goal was to look observe, experience the day and discuss our findings for 30 minutes before pencils hit paper. In explaining who you are and the breadth of the topics you discuss in your newsletter, I remembered one submission, for plein air-ers. It was about a doo-hickie thing you fashioned yourself, that sits within the steering wheel while painting. The board or canvas sits on this easel looking thing in the middle of the steering wheel. The topic came up when we were out painting and the clouds decided to rain upon us. Do you ever repeat an article, for special requests?
Moonlight Pinnacle, Harrys Harbour palette knife oil painting by Doug Downey, Springdale, Newfoundland, Canada |
Your painting doesn’t look as if it is 9×12…this makes me wonder about small paintings that come across as large and large paintings that come across as small. Something about the amount of the world they are trying to encompass. Maybe my coffee is too strong this morning.