I've been marbling and painting so much lately, I scarcely have time to write about my process. But I'm excited about an old failed painting in my "slush pile" that I managed to revive through a combination of re-marbling and overpainting (using acrylics) so I thought I'd blog about it.

"Windswept #3" (acrylic/marbling on paper, 12 x 16") began as a pale marbled figure with an outstretched arm, done mostly in blues. (I actually don't have a photo of the very first step before I turned the pale marbled paper into a figure).

You can see how delicate the original marbling was on this painting; after I finished marbling, I drew in the figure and put a blue wash using acrylics on her dress.

Then I added a sage green colored rectangle behind the figure in an attempt to break up the white background. I added a collage moon of sorts.

But really, this painting felt boring and pale, so I put in a pile in my garage--with other "so-so" paintings. I either paint over them later, or paint on the back side of the paper.

I always write in pencil the date completed (or abandoned) on the back of every painting; this one was from 2012. I continued to paint, marble, and work on other paintings, and 4 years went by. Last week, I happened to reach into my old pile of unfinished paintings (my favorite way to find inspiration) and came across this old painting. Suddenly I took the painting upstairs to my studio and decided it need BRIGHT orange and DARK blue to really strengthen it. 

Feeling brave, I added two new navy blue "ribbons" and even though I didn't love the painting, I thought I might try re-marbling it to see what happens. My goal was to cover some of that navy blue and better integrate it into the painting. 

To my surprise, the second go-round of marbling did the trick. I used synthetic ox gall to break "holes" into the marbling so the pattern would be wispy, not solid. My marbling colors were lavender, black and a bit of red.

Later, in the studio, I used a stencil to put light blue pattern over the two dark blue "ribbons" in the lower part of the painting (to better integrate them).

I THOUGHT I was finished, but then I showed this version to my critique group and we all agreed that the hair needed reshaping, and the "arm shaped" part of the scarf (which runs parallel to her actual arm) had to go.

I took the painting back up to my studio, and used several layers of orange/red acrylic to cover the long part of the scarf. I did some reshaping/overpainting of the hair and narrowed one end of the lower right blue ribbon.

Finally, I decided to crop the painting at the top---too much dark blue wasn't serving the rest of the painting. So it went from 12 x 18" to 12 x 16" but I think the finished piece is much stronger.

I titled it "Windswept #3" because I have two previous Windswept paintings that depict a woman in a similar pose.

Persistence is key---and keeping some old paintings around is not such a bad idea after all. Sure, there are many paintings that can never be revived, despite my best intentions, but I'm learning to recognize the ones that are worth my efforts.

I had an epiphany the other day, and I suddenly realized why I've had a good burst of completed paintings this month: I started with no (or low) expectations. I should explain that in the course of my many years of marbling papers (using acrylics), I've amassed quite a stack of lovely, patterned papers. I file them by year in my garage/storage space. Some of them are so lovely, I can't bear to paint on them, but others are, well, less than stellar.  So, I created a "slush pile" of the marbled papers that I really don't like. Maybe they are too busy, too murky, too blue, too red....they just don't speak to me. I contemplated selling them, or even giving them as gifts, but months went by and they continued to sit on a table untouched. I'd written them off as unworthy of developing into paintings.

Recently, I was organizing my paintings for an upcoming show, and came across these "failed" marbled papers. Suddenly, I grabbed a few and took a closer look at them: I began to see potential! Excited, I took a few papers up to my studio and began turning these failed marbled papers into finished paintings! The one I'm most pleased with is "Treehouse #6", acrylic marbling/collage on paper, 13 x 19". You can see the progression from raw paper to finished painting:

I've been using the technique of marbling with acrylics in my paintings for almost ten years now, and I never tire of the possibilities. Like a scholar pouring over one's books, I'm in search of further knowledge about this intricate medium. I plot and scheme to figure out what new techniques I might try in the marbling tray to get a different effect--one that surprises and delights me.

There aren't many books about marbling, and even if I could get my hands on them, many are out of print. Furthermore, paging through a book of color images and samples of marbled papers only provides you with the end result, and not the process of HOW to actually make the patterns.

My best bet is to keep experimenting with paint and trying new things. Sharing ideas with other marbling "nerds" helps, too.  I signed up for an online marbling workshop with its own private Facebook group where me and my fellow marblers can post our images and ask questions. The instructor checks in on scheduled days/times and helps us troubleshoot any problems we might be having. She also provides professional videos, shot from above the marbling tray, so that we can observe each drop of paint as it falls into the tray.


Thanks to this new avenue of learning and sharing, I am getting the courage to loosen up and break rules with my marbled patterns! I hope this shot of courage (as I ask myself "what if?") leads me to paint more innovative and interesting paintings in the coming year.

I marvel at the ways we artists can instantly share images of our paintings (even as the paint is still drying!) through social media like Facebook. As much as I like to complain about technology taking over my life, I have to admit that I enjoy the instant gratification that comes from posting a new painting and reading the comments of my friends, family members, and students. So far, the response has been overwhelmingly positive, and I've even drummed up a few unexpected sales! Another plus: friends have come to the rescue when I'm stumped and need suggestions for giving my painting a title. It's fascinating to hear other people's perspectives and insights about my work. If art is a conversation between the viewer and the artist, Facebook deftly facilitates that dialogue.

Thanks to my recently attained Signature membership in NWS (National Watercolor Society), I've become connected to an even larger group of artists on Facebook. Now I'm reading posts and seeing images from national artists (and they are seeing my work as well). Through these connections, I'm being introduced to even MORE artists whose styles intrigue and delight me.

How much is too much? It's up to you to decide how much time you want to spend online. I've heard of writers who disable their computer's internet connectivity while they write so they won't be constantly interrupted, and that sounds like a good idea. I tend to jump online after my morning coffee, and depending on my day, I check again at lunchtime, and again in the late afternoon. I confess that I sometimes I peek at my ipad when I get "stuck" during a painting session, but more often than not, my hands are covered in paint so I'm forced to keep to task!

All things considered, I am grateful for the technology that has allowed me to connect and share my work with others so quickly and efficiently. It's no replacement for in-person art exhibits, but its reach is far and wide--to people across the country and across the world.

 What a great year it's been, what a rare mood I'm in (to paraphrase the Nat King Cole song). It's nearly the end of a long, hot summer, and I'm nursing a puncture wound in my right hand (due to a mishap with the sharp end of a metal picture frame). I received two stitches, and a tetanus shot, but I'm already on the mend. Happily, my fingers can still type, and I'm even able to wield my trusty paintbrush a bit.

Today I took the time to update my website, adding new images, exhibit info, awards, and details about upcoming workshops and shows. Taking stock of the year so far, I was amazed to find that I've been on an unprecedented (for me) winning streak: I was juried into 5 of the 8 national/regional shows I submitted images to, and 2 of those paintings received cash awards. As of this writing, I just mailed off my painting "Chaco Canyon Conversation" to the National Watercolor Society's 95th International Exhibit in San Pedro, CA, along with 3 supporting paintings that (pending juror consensus) will bestow on me the distinction of Signature membership in this esteemed organization. Attaining signature membership in NWS has been a 12-year goal of mine, and I'm excited to learn of the results of the jurors' decision in late September. (Scroll to the end of this post to see a visual step by step process of how I built this painting from start to finish).

What does all of this mean?  I can't speak for others, but I can only say that it's affirmed that I'm on the right track, and I'm where I want to be with regard to my art. It's not about the small cash prizes (although they do buy a few tubes of paint), but it is about garnering the recognition and respect of my artist peers--something money can't buy.

Incidentally, I didn't get to the "big kid's table" all by myself. Oh, sure--I put in the painting hours, took workshops that pushed and furthered my skills, participated in critique sessions to help me learn to analyze paintings strengths and weaknesses, went to gallery shows for inspiration and to support other artists, volunteered my time in various art organizations, and taught watercolor, acrylic and marbling classes. All of those things are essential to honing/improving one's skills as an artist. But if I'm being honest, I have to give credit to my many mentors, artists, and teachers who paved the way for me and helped me when I stumbled (because I most certainly veer off course a time or two). You know that question that people often ask: "how long did it take you to paint that?" Only now do I understand that the correct (and honest) reply is "my entire life".

This summer, as I strolled past a thrift shop, I saw several painted canvases for sale for $3 each. Upon closer inspection, I realized they were high quality, gallery wrapped canvases. They measured 14 x 18 inches and been painted in acrylic by a youngster named Avery (whose name was written on the back). Obviously Avery (and her parents) were willing to let these paintings go, but I saw in them an opportunity to turn them into a finished painting.

This particular canvas had little sayings glued to it, which added some texture, but the first thing I did was paint matching aqua color to block out the words. Next, I applied  black gesso and attempt to calm down the busy all-over pattern. A few weeks later, on a whim, I took the painting to a marbling workshop and dipped it into the marbling tray (using greys and whites in my  marble pattern). After that, I added more black and began carving out two figures. The trick was to figure out how much of the aqua to leave as is, and how much to cover. At long last, I succeeded in bringing the painting (titled "Patching Things Up #13") to completion.

I took a few photos along the way (some on my ipad, which tends to take photos that are too light). Here's the metamorphosis of "Patching Things Up #13":