I've always been a
doodler as far back as I can remember, probably as early as the age of
three. I always enjoyed coloring and heck, still enjoy it now with the
grandkids or even without. Opening a new box of crayons, preferably the
64 count or up, was like "ooooooo color!"
As I grew older my passion for sketching unfolded and I found that I liked to draw with charcoal but was happiest with a blank sketch pad and pencil. Unfortunately, it's a hobby that I abandoned many years ago as I began raising a family and in having one child, another, then another and another I found less and less time to just sit and draw.
What led me to the topic of this post was this weekend I came across some old oil paintings that I had done during my pre-teen years. My mom had put me in an oil painting class hoping to broaden my like of art. But after going for a short time, I knew it wasn't my niche and I didn't enjoy it nearly as much as simply sketching with pencil in hand. Actually, I didn't enjoy it at all. I liked it when I could sketch the initial basic outline of the painting up to the transfer of that same picture onto the canvas but after that, I was done. I wanted no more. I'm sure a lot of it was because I was overly critical of the finished result. I struggled with the "lighting" and the "shadowing" and the blending never turned out as I hoped. It's funny, even though I was only 11, things had to be just right or I wouldn't be pleased with the result. I could always see what could have been done better, softer, straighter, and/or smaller. Dang that perfectionist trait.
I envied my instructor (who had twice as many years experience as I was old) at how she dabbed and blotted the paint, gently flipped her wrist to glide the fibers in the brush to give her paintings such allure and visual appeal. She also had some clever techniques in which an artist could take a toothpick to etch out lines in the paint to give a certain effect or even taking a kitchen spatula head to use the edge to swirl paint on the canvas to give another dramatic effect. Even though I didn't come away with a love for oils, she definitely was gifted in her art.
My first oil painting ever (age 11) -
As I grew older my passion for sketching unfolded and I found that I liked to draw with charcoal but was happiest with a blank sketch pad and pencil. Unfortunately, it's a hobby that I abandoned many years ago as I began raising a family and in having one child, another, then another and another I found less and less time to just sit and draw.
What led me to the topic of this post was this weekend I came across some old oil paintings that I had done during my pre-teen years. My mom had put me in an oil painting class hoping to broaden my like of art. But after going for a short time, I knew it wasn't my niche and I didn't enjoy it nearly as much as simply sketching with pencil in hand. Actually, I didn't enjoy it at all. I liked it when I could sketch the initial basic outline of the painting up to the transfer of that same picture onto the canvas but after that, I was done. I wanted no more. I'm sure a lot of it was because I was overly critical of the finished result. I struggled with the "lighting" and the "shadowing" and the blending never turned out as I hoped. It's funny, even though I was only 11, things had to be just right or I wouldn't be pleased with the result. I could always see what could have been done better, softer, straighter, and/or smaller. Dang that perfectionist trait.
I envied my instructor (who had twice as many years experience as I was old) at how she dabbed and blotted the paint, gently flipped her wrist to glide the fibers in the brush to give her paintings such allure and visual appeal. She also had some clever techniques in which an artist could take a toothpick to etch out lines in the paint to give a certain effect or even taking a kitchen spatula head to use the edge to swirl paint on the canvas to give another dramatic effect. Even though I didn't come away with a love for oils, she definitely was gifted in her art.
A couple examples of my artwork below:
My first oil painting ever (age 11) -
as the back of the painting reflects, created in September, 1980 -
and another after I had been in class for a few months -
I have to laugh at my "unique" signature down in the bottom right hand corner.
My creativity regarding that was definitely lacking.
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