and he bears gifts. Got a box of goodies in the mail. Snagged some artsy swag on sale and got 5 freebies in the deal. not sure what to do with the pirate stuff. But I can't wait to play with the thin chipboard and my GERMANY die cut.
I do have to wait to show pics because the camera batteries are recharging. Note to self: put batteries in the charger upon returning from an adventure.
Thursday, August 15, 2013
Tuesday, August 13, 2013
Kick start My Art?
I talked with Scott at Vada Color today. As I feared would be the case, the third hand information about pricing was a bit off. He was really helpful and his work is amazing. When he calls himself a color specialist he isn't kidding. And he is picky. PICKY!
That is just the kind of quality you want in your printer. Ultimately he will print whatever we tell him to print. But! But when it is his butt, his camera that takes the digital image AND he has to print that for a client, you better believe that he is going to make damn awful sure he has the color right. When I stopped in today he had a watercolor in the works. After he explained to me the whole process he showed me this water color. The concept was phenomenal, the work delicate and the colors even more so. He showed me the proof, the original and wow....
He was so close that if it had been my work I would have been happy with what came out. He was not. On a Pantone™ chart the color of his print and the original might have been 3 shades of barely perceptible difference (because Pantone™ is like that). He kept saying it wasn't right. And the goal was to keep as much of the original pinky white paper the pinky white that it is without loosing the cool in the celadon and olive colors.
So the start up cost per print is going to be 125.00 + wholesale pricing for each design. For that price he will take the photos in the highest resolution that he can. They won't have the hotspots that mine have. The camera he uses won't cast a shadow like mine does because I'M DOING IT WRONG! And he will be pickier about color matches than I will be. I just want it on the market.
For 60 he won't be so picky. Or he will use my own digital images. I chose from a variety of papers or canvas. And here is where I am most disappointed in my 3rd party information. A 16x20 print which is fairly standard for "larger" sizes will cost me 20.00 per print. So for me to sell it at reasonable mark up for a reasonable profit and charge 45.00 will require me to have a "name". Because I am unknown I will most likely only be able to charge 32.00.
An 8x10 size is infinitely more marketable, most common for the average sizes and will cost 9.00 to produce after the initial digitalization fee. And again, will only be able to charge 20.00 without the branding to justify the 36 others are getting in town for the same size.
So this leaves me with the perpetual frustration of having done things bass ackwards (ass backwards for you non-English vernacular speakers) and still not selling anything. Or kick starting the art sales department in my life.
Kick start my art? Is that something that you can kick start? Would advance sales get me enough cash to get this done? But who pays for advanced art? People at home parties.... which is something else that I have been thinking about trying to do here in my home town. I don't know exactly how I would accomplish that either.
Ugh!!!!!!!!!!! Ideas? Anyone?
That is just the kind of quality you want in your printer. Ultimately he will print whatever we tell him to print. But! But when it is his butt, his camera that takes the digital image AND he has to print that for a client, you better believe that he is going to make damn awful sure he has the color right. When I stopped in today he had a watercolor in the works. After he explained to me the whole process he showed me this water color. The concept was phenomenal, the work delicate and the colors even more so. He showed me the proof, the original and wow....
He was so close that if it had been my work I would have been happy with what came out. He was not. On a Pantone™ chart the color of his print and the original might have been 3 shades of barely perceptible difference (because Pantone™ is like that). He kept saying it wasn't right. And the goal was to keep as much of the original pinky white paper the pinky white that it is without loosing the cool in the celadon and olive colors.
So the start up cost per print is going to be 125.00 + wholesale pricing for each design. For that price he will take the photos in the highest resolution that he can. They won't have the hotspots that mine have. The camera he uses won't cast a shadow like mine does because I'M DOING IT WRONG! And he will be pickier about color matches than I will be. I just want it on the market.
For 60 he won't be so picky. Or he will use my own digital images. I chose from a variety of papers or canvas. And here is where I am most disappointed in my 3rd party information. A 16x20 print which is fairly standard for "larger" sizes will cost me 20.00 per print. So for me to sell it at reasonable mark up for a reasonable profit and charge 45.00 will require me to have a "name". Because I am unknown I will most likely only be able to charge 32.00.
An 8x10 size is infinitely more marketable, most common for the average sizes and will cost 9.00 to produce after the initial digitalization fee. And again, will only be able to charge 20.00 without the branding to justify the 36 others are getting in town for the same size.
So this leaves me with the perpetual frustration of having done things bass ackwards (ass backwards for you non-English vernacular speakers) and still not selling anything. Or kick starting the art sales department in my life.
Kick start my art? Is that something that you can kick start? Would advance sales get me enough cash to get this done? But who pays for advanced art? People at home parties.... which is something else that I have been thinking about trying to do here in my home town. I don't know exactly how I would accomplish that either.
Ugh!!!!!!!!!!! Ideas? Anyone?
Monday, August 12, 2013
Comission Request
So one of my friends has decided that she loves my work and wants me to do something for her of the State Hospital. Built in 1911 as an Asylum for a few dozen world weary men and women, it grew over many decades to become a sprawling complex housing 5,000 patients. In the mid 1980's the property was closed, the last of the mentally handicapped were released into the wild while the building was left to melt into the scenic hillside and rolling fields of the grounds. The reclamation process was interrupted a few years ago when the Minervini group began to redevelop the entire property for mixed use commercial and residential use.
The State Hospital has always been fodder for local ghost stories, the hunting grounds for the most desired species of tree and shrub for biology class leaf collections, hiking and making midnight excursions at your own peril. Stuff of legends and nightmares, nearly everyone in town has a story to tell. With the push to reclaim from the Earth that which the Earth wished to reclaim there is a great panic to photograph and chronicle the patina and patterns of neglect left on its stories walls. Decay is a natural part of life. No matter how beautiful this renewed facades will be, there is also a beauty in the aging process.
The building is an amalgam of many romantic themes of gothic architecture and the romantics in town who see beauty and character in the desolate structure wish to preserve those characters. And so we photographed and chatted and photographed some more. I will go again in a few days to take more pictures. There are things that I did not think to get a shot of because I was so lost in the experience. I did not get the exact angles that my friend wanted and while we will share back and forth for a time, I would like my own shots.
Most likely this series will be in acrylic and atmospheric, suggestive. I do not think that I will do a watercolor series of realistic features. My perspective skills leave me less than confident.
For myself, these are the photos that inspire me most:
Here the Italianate styles seem to dominate the skyline as it does with the fret and ginger work above the trattoria on the grounds. The cupolas are crowned with the Minervini family symbol. This puts me in mind of Michelle's duomos and the wonderful visual textures. These are but two of the four cupola designs on the property. 
I still have not decided which country's Victorian era construction this emulates. As we walked around I was put in mind of an English Manor house. But then this façade would seem to fit somewhere in Venice as well. In either case... I felt as if I were a spectre lurking about for the sordid stories of the family in residence, perhaps the Copper Beeches, Shoscombe Old Place or a Medici family retreat.
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
From the Vault
My favorite color scheme should be pretty obvious by now. This 12x12 canvas came shortly after my father died. Seems fairly evident that the loss left me feeling like I was missing some parts of me; searching for those parts. Not sure that I have found them yet
Focused on red still? Or again? This is a 4x6 with the texture paste. The stencil is my own design, cut from thick mylar. I love it. But the next time I use it I will go with the blue stuff. It is thinner and I think will leave me with cleaner edges when using the paste. It needs another paste object in the bottom right corner for balance.
I really like this tree. It is a bit cartoony in this version. But the roots have that swirly curly character that was my almost "Signature" style in school. And obviously yellow is a bit of a departure from the norm.
The pictures are a bit washed out. That is due to the lack of proper photographic lighting and a small basement window by which to take pictures. Will remedy that soon. I wanted to get these up so that I could keep a discovery journal while unpacking the boxes downstairs.
Artifact Box 4
This was the last thing on the table when I was told to leave. I'd been playing with texture paste and my own hand cut stencils (I know. But you have to suck it up and cut your own when the commercial brands don't have what you want.) for a while. What with the intense focus on earthen vessels and jars of clay could be better than a material that could easily pass for actual clay? So why not? So I did.
It takes a long time for this stuff
to dry.I think that this particular
canvas spent four days curing
before I ever applied paint to it.
The tricky thing with this is to
remember to keep things in the
proper perspective. Which, looking
with a somewhat distant eye now,
I see I did not quite make muster.
There is the same left-side-right-side
issue with my perspective. And the
lip of the rim is not foreshortened
enough. That being said though...
I absolutely LOVE the texture and
color of the mid-section of the jar. It
looks like it has a well worn patina...
exactly what I was going for. And I
worked in come cool compliments
so that the whole color scheme didn't get bogged down or become boring.
Man I hope that color scheme isn't boring. Now I am not too sure how I am going to finish the background. That was a schmear of raw sienna and some other yellow and lifted with plastic wrap. Of course I need to lay in some shadow colors and punch up the background. And some kind of embellishment, handwriting and maybe some high gloss finish.
This is a close up shows the colors.
All the colors were dry brushed. The
first layers were matte base colors.
Next came several shades of Lumiere.
Four days of curing turned out to be
the key to getting good paint layers
down. I had to use a runny wash
to do the body of the vessel
so that it would streak and look
like the jar had been overfilled
frequently.
Not sure how to finish this. Like I
said it was on the table drying
when I was told to leave. I packed
up an got out like it was Volcano
Day in Pompeii.
Fortunately I had never completely
unpacked when I moved in.
Uncovering the canvas feels a lot like I've dug through the ashin that famed city and found the remnants of someone's last day.
And in the timeline of my life it was a last day for
me. I am the artist and I should be able to finish it. Yet there is something in me that says it belongs in the past and should be left as it is. A testimony to a time and place that does not exist.
to dry.I think that this particular
canvas spent four days curing
before I ever applied paint to it.
The tricky thing with this is to
remember to keep things in the
proper perspective. Which, looking
with a somewhat distant eye now,
I see I did not quite make muster.
There is the same left-side-right-side
issue with my perspective. And the
lip of the rim is not foreshortened
enough. That being said though...
I absolutely LOVE the texture and
color of the mid-section of the jar. It
looks like it has a well worn patina...
exactly what I was going for. And I
worked in come cool compliments
so that the whole color scheme didn't get bogged down or become boring.
Man I hope that color scheme isn't boring. Now I am not too sure how I am going to finish the background. That was a schmear of raw sienna and some other yellow and lifted with plastic wrap. Of course I need to lay in some shadow colors and punch up the background. And some kind of embellishment, handwriting and maybe some high gloss finish.
This is a close up shows the colors.
All the colors were dry brushed. The first layers were matte base colors.
Next came several shades of Lumiere.
Four days of curing turned out to be
the key to getting good paint layers
down. I had to use a runny wash
to do the body of the vessel
so that it would streak and look
like the jar had been overfilled
frequently.
Not sure how to finish this. Like I
said it was on the table drying
when I was told to leave. I packed
up an got out like it was Volcano
Day in Pompeii.
Fortunately I had never completely
unpacked when I moved in.
Uncovering the canvas feels a lot like I've dug through the ashin that famed city and found the remnants of someone's last day.
And in the timeline of my life it was a last day for
me. I am the artist and I should be able to finish it. Yet there is something in me that says it belongs in the past and should be left as it is. A testimony to a time and place that does not exist.
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
More from Artifact Box 4 & 5
Box 4 yielded other treasures. A cache of unopened canvases with a few partial gems tucked in. But it was Box 5 that yielded the most treasure. I wish that I had time to upload everything. I have company coming and still have to run an errand before they come. And I don't know now if I am ready for company. I'd rather just sit and stare and indulge the feelings in my body right now.
My maternal Grandfather, Alfred and his wives. Gramma Ada, my mother's mother is in the green frame. And Gramma Olive is in silver. Gramma Olive is the one I knew. She and Grampa married when they were 71. I was a little more than 1. If anyone has to wonder where my Bohemian traits come from it is Grammas Ada & Olive. Gramma Ada died before I was born. From pictures I see that we have the same tastes in jewelry and color. Gramma Olive was a rebel. Grampa was the smartest person that I know and that seemed to trickle down to my cousins with a brief visit to me and my sister. Of course most all Gerbstadts in the world are PhDs and rocket scientists.... no kidding. I will grant you my sister an cousins did more to monetize their cranial gifts than I have. I rather like to be a curiosity. And Gramma Olive encouraged that.
The bloke on the right is my dad at graduation. Simple, hard working and a quiet thinker, Dad was one of those people who put one foot in front of the other and always came out okay.
Yep... my heart hurts a lot right now. I am rather terrified to go through life without them behind me. When it wasn't safe I could go to any one of them. If I couldn't see far enough down a chosen path, they stood a little taller with their experience and told me what was ahead. I need that right now. There are things that I need to do that some guidance and wisdom would make a bit less traumatizing. And I trust them implicitly. Other people... not so much. Someone is always looking to pull one over on each of us. And I don't want to go through that again. I can not stand not being able to trust.
But I don't. Burned too much, especially recently with people lying about me and purposefully trying to hurt me. And I haven't been allowed a defense. If I defend myself I risk my livelihood. I know the truth, straight from one conspirator's mouth. But no one wants to see the truth because the truth is hard and most people take the road that is well traveled and trampled.
I feel defenseless.
And I don't know where to find the protection or tools to defend myself and proceed.
My maternal Grandfather, Alfred and his wives. Gramma Ada, my mother's mother is in the green frame. And Gramma Olive is in silver. Gramma Olive is the one I knew. She and Grampa married when they were 71. I was a little more than 1. If anyone has to wonder where my Bohemian traits come from it is Grammas Ada & Olive. Gramma Ada died before I was born. From pictures I see that we have the same tastes in jewelry and color. Gramma Olive was a rebel. Grampa was the smartest person that I know and that seemed to trickle down to my cousins with a brief visit to me and my sister. Of course most all Gerbstadts in the world are PhDs and rocket scientists.... no kidding. I will grant you my sister an cousins did more to monetize their cranial gifts than I have. I rather like to be a curiosity. And Gramma Olive encouraged that.
The bloke on the right is my dad at graduation. Simple, hard working and a quiet thinker, Dad was one of those people who put one foot in front of the other and always came out okay.
Yep... my heart hurts a lot right now. I am rather terrified to go through life without them behind me. When it wasn't safe I could go to any one of them. If I couldn't see far enough down a chosen path, they stood a little taller with their experience and told me what was ahead. I need that right now. There are things that I need to do that some guidance and wisdom would make a bit less traumatizing. And I trust them implicitly. Other people... not so much. Someone is always looking to pull one over on each of us. And I don't want to go through that again. I can not stand not being able to trust.
But I don't. Burned too much, especially recently with people lying about me and purposefully trying to hurt me. And I haven't been allowed a defense. If I defend myself I risk my livelihood. I know the truth, straight from one conspirator's mouth. But no one wants to see the truth because the truth is hard and most people take the road that is well traveled and trampled.
I feel defenseless.
And I don't know where to find the protection or tools to defend myself and proceed.
Missing No More
I'd forgotten for a while that I had framed some of my work to put up in the last house I was in before dad died. Death does weird things to your brain. Anyway, I was looking for some things to sell to the antiques dealer when I found a box labled "DEC". I figured there would be good collectibles in there. Instead I found framed artwork.
Among my pieces I found a Muscha reproduction, courtesy of Matt. And this:
Among my pieces I found a Muscha reproduction, courtesy of Matt. And this:
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| framed Freesia with reflection.
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