Skip to main content

Art Day

You know it must be Friday because I'm showing more paintings. While I was reading up on the pines of Rome, I was intrigued by the shapes of the trees. They're more like umbrellas because of the way they are groomed as they grow—canopy trees—and they are often found growing near cypress trees. So, I set out to figure out how to paint them. I started small.

Then I worked a little bigger.

Then I worked even bigger, but this one was a bust. After it dried, I painted over it in white and started over. The second attempt was better but still not good, so I glued stuff on as a way to salvage it. I scanned in the first page of my Pines of Rome horn music and printed it on textured paper. Then I ripped the paper in strips and laid them out with wire, beads, bits of rusted window screen material, and a tiny horn charm (useless points for you if you can spot it). And I varnished the whole thing. I kind of like it. What do you think? (click on it for a bigger view).

Comments

savannah said…
lower left corner on the sheet music!

i like the mixed media idea of the larger piece. everything and anything about the trees. it's as if, everything you thought about as you were painting appeared on the canvas.

or is that just me, sugar? ;-)
dive said…
Rats! Beaten to the useless points by Savannah the early riser.
The little painting looks so cute beside the big one, Robyn.
I love collage; I remember your wonderful altered books from a while back. And the Pines of Rome score on the painting of the pines of Rome is such a good idea.
Excellent and fun.
Robyn? You're in the wrong job. Start selling immediately. This last one is great. I like the first one too, it's good to see that you are mixing on canvas and not bothering to wash your brush between shades. The texture is interesting. The mixed media approach works very well and, i think, sells well. Go for it!
Scout said…
Savannah, good spotting. I do tend to emote.

Dive, I had the altered book in mind when I attacked the painting. It really was fun.

Lynn, wow, thanks! I don't wash my brush between colors usually, but I do tend to wipe it off on paper towels when it gets out of hand. I am learning to only lightly mix, although I often do that on a pallet. I'm not wild about flat colors.
Mrs. G. said…
I think it is beautiful. I like the colors and texture. And I have a special affection for tiny paintings.
Shan said…
I like all the chunkiness of the big one and it seems quite original as well. But there's nothing that gets me more than a tiny painting. I just want to pinch those little trees and their little tiny sky! Squee.....cutie! I just think a whole wall of wee little painted canvases would look so great together! :D
I like how you added the torn sheet music and splashes of black to the bottom one. Good job Robyn!!!
Hey Robyn your daughter's photo is going down so well at my blog, thanks Daughter! Come and see!
Maria said…
I am a poor judge of artwork. I have been told that I don't have an "eye." But, I liked all the cool, smooth to the touch way these all looked.

I liked them. Very much.

Popular posts from this blog

No More Mr. Nice Guy

It's good to be a nice person--to say nice things, to do nice things, to write nice things--but I declare an end to the use of the word nice. Nice is what you say when you can't think of any other adjective. Someone shows you a picture of their back yard--that's nice. Someone tells you about their afternoon adventure--that's nice. Or someone describes their childhood in great detail and sometimes with painstaking effort--that's nice. It's a lazy word, and it's non-descriptive. Nice is like mashed potatoes with noodles and chicken gravy all in a big pile on one plate with some canned corn for garnish. Everything is the same color and texture and base substance--starch (this is a favorite Amish dish). Nice is like a partly cloudy day in April when outside feels like inside, and you can't tell a difference between the lighting and the temperature of your living room and the lighting and temperature of your front yard. Nice is a glass of lukewarm water. ...

Ish People

Tell an Ish person to show up around 9 a.m., and you'll see them somewhere around 9 a.m. Tell them to show up at 9ish, and you'll see them anywhere from 9:05 to 9:20. You have given them license to dilly dally, and who wouldn't take advantage of that? The other night at the big shindig dinner party, one of the drummers said the rehearsal the next morning would begin at 9ish. "I am an ish person," he says. Immediately the clanker goes off in my head--oh, good, I thought. I can deliver my daughter a little late. No Ish person is early, so if you say 9ish, that does not mean give or take 5, 10, 15 minutes. It's exclusively a taking phrase. Take an extra 10 minutes to drink your cup of coffee. We won't mind. We're Ish people. Sunday's rehearsal started at 2:00. Because it was conducted by the same people who conducted the Saturday rehearsal, my understanding was 2-ISH. My daughter is worse than I am about taking liberties with Ish time frames, so she d...

Long Live Anita Bowser

You know I occasionally check my hometown newspaper's website to scan the obituaries (morbid, I know, but I'm at that age). Over this past weekend, I read the obituary of Indiana State Senator Anita Bowser . She was a noted Democrat who championed causes protecting the neediest in the state's population. She was respected on both sides of the aisle for her intelligence and plain and outspoken approach to law making. The picture on her senate page is lovely. I remember none of those things about Anita Bowser . My first year or so in college was spent at a branch of Purdue University, and in the early 80s, Anita was a political science professor. She taught my American Government class my freshman year, and she was a mess. Somewhere in my old text book, I have a sketch of her drawn on a particularly dull day in class--her hose sagged at her ankles, her slip showed at least half an inch all the way around, her hair had been slept on but not brushed, and her bright red lip stic...