tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34353327290024496322024-03-05T07:03:16.937-08:00m.c. sunflowersDocumenting my evolution as an artist through paint.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12862935403393181644noreply@blogger.comBlogger78125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3435332729002449632.post-65821040872521430612017-01-28T18:38:00.000-08:002017-01-28T18:38:56.109-08:00<div style="text-align: center;">
Oh hey. Long time.</div>
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Um soooo yeah! Lots of stuff has happened between now and then! </div>
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I haven't painted in a few months...wahhhh. My excuse is that we moved and the new studio is a shambles. Is that the expression? "A shambles"? Anyway yeah but</div>
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I picked up the guitar again and am kinda diggin it in a big and different way than I ever have before. Like, I'm being pulled to it and I'm heeding the call and going on youtube and learning new stuff, like I'm really into fingerpicking lately, a style called Travis picking. It really all started a few months ago when my mom wanted me to go through all my old stuff in her basement and just get rid of it all, and I came across my notes in a wire bound notebook from the guitar lessons I took as a teenager. It is still so super handy and I took it home, went through them and gave myself a refresher course. And then went on youtube to learn some stuff. And also, I signed up for a credit-free course at MCC on a Beatles guitar class LOL. I'm looking forward to meeting other guitar peeps. I'm in a new town and I need to meet some peeps here to make it feel more like a home. </div>
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Last night I feel like I had somewhat of a breakthrough with the guitar, I was practicing some songs and I was getting kinda bored with that so I went off on my own little jam thing and a song came floating to me, and I was singing, just whatever was coming to me. It wasn't like, an out-and-out song, just some words with the chords and some blues scales thrown in and it was really cool, I felt like I was finally developing some kinda relationship with the guitar. I want it to have its own soul and voice, I just need to get better with technicalities, building muscles in my wrist/fingers (especially my pinky, damn). It was wonderful and I wish I had recorded it. I have a small tape recorder from my mom's house that needs batteries and I need to get cassette tapes for it. But I really wonder, what do musicians use to record themselves, just casually? Not like a huge setup or anything, and something other than the phone which loses space quickly. Something simple and easy to playback. That's my quest. My quest is to get good at guitar and record myself practicing.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12862935403393181644noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3435332729002449632.post-56548332705658446832014-08-07T11:02:00.001-07:002014-08-07T11:02:44.003-07:00Elizabeth Peyton<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Spent a brief moment this afternoon standing puzzled in the studio amidst my previous visit's mess. I then opened my book of Elizabeth Peyton's art and sat on the floor flipping through the pages, reading bits and pieces, staring here and there. I decided to take a walk down the street to the cafe I work at and order a sandwich and check out the book more thoroughly with a pen and my notebook. I jotted down ideas that occurred to me while reading the book, which now looking back, seem to be completely unrelated to the book:<br />
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-multiple eyes<br />
-multiple features for a freaky affect<br />
-double exposure mixed media<br />
-relearn xerox transfer<br />
-vintage postcard paintings<br />
-small votive paintings<br />
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I'm drawn to how Elizabeth Peyton becomes transfixed by a certain person and must paint them over and over again. I'm drawn to how quick they seem yet how intense they are. They pack a punch. I love her drawings too and I think I need to reference her for future endeavors. I should print some of her images out and stick them in my scrapbook of delight (or book of shadows).<br />
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One of her obsessions is Kurt Cobain. Here are but 3 of many many many. I love them despite the fact that Kurt looks way too pretty in them.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWFoTLHhZYgxrLJPWtMoD98rb3f1FIxxX6RSpClFequosCpePYwjnXSVDOihBsQUfEeAXWi-_UdYTNJ1S4TRB8fu1YyD6DrUSQImbe-bJUYzag3di__GZEbnHhIOBlHEltAaBWGqDs_VY/s1600/bowie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWFoTLHhZYgxrLJPWtMoD98rb3f1FIxxX6RSpClFequosCpePYwjnXSVDOihBsQUfEeAXWi-_UdYTNJ1S4TRB8fu1YyD6DrUSQImbe-bJUYzag3di__GZEbnHhIOBlHEltAaBWGqDs_VY/s1600/bowie.jpg" height="320" width="217" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">amazing.<br /><br /><br /><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She also loves What's-his-face from Oasis. Liam Gallagher. How freakin' intense is this? Truly. <br /><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sid.</td></tr>
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Plus, she was born in Danbury and so was I. This motivates me for some reason. I bet we were both born in the same damn hospital! Perhaps the goddess of art who blessed her at her birth was also there for me when I was born! Yeah? Right?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12862935403393181644noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3435332729002449632.post-63132185573221022112014-08-06T07:06:00.000-07:002014-08-06T14:23:23.012-07:00true detectiveSo I recently finished the first season of the series "True Detective" and my mind is still blown, still thinking about the characters and their dynamics and struggles and the darkness and magic that was so deliciously portrayed. I'm not one to really sit down and become engrossed in tv series, I couldn't tell you the first thing about pretty much anything that anyone's watching these days, but "True Detective" was a rare exception. It was a sophisticated and intelligent work of art that I found was truly worth my time.<br />
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One of the things I found that I really appreciated about the show was the title sequence. The dark, double exposed and gritty images portraying a decaying landscape inside silhouettes of the characters, burning like end times. So I decided to do a little research and found this gem of an interview:</div>
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http://www.artofthetitle.com/title/true-detective/</div>
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Some of my very favorite images from the opening sequence:</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12862935403393181644noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3435332729002449632.post-49358029288308576382014-04-30T16:21:00.000-07:002014-04-30T16:21:05.692-07:00I've been reviewed and interviewed!I just wanted to share this lovely review my friend Rachel wrote about me and my art. She also asked me a couple questions about my process and influences. This is pretty much the best thing ever:<br />
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http://www.tinysupernova.com/mariclarecole/Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12862935403393181644noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3435332729002449632.post-52408235652963691382014-04-30T15:55:00.000-07:002014-04-30T15:56:12.353-07:00living with myselfHow do I even start? That's how I'll start this entry. And I think that's the whole point anyway. I haven't really created since February. Except for these quick and sloppy and slapdash things that I drew just to freaking do SOMETHING AAHHHH<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3gRhLUrjejxgbPRYP2KdFaA5v3ncmvd-PfcsuHnD6KAw55pxdGSD7kd9J0gT47-Vhkdf2hSjNQKpVQjC-DvhFONVRXugSscndDsnrgiJDMSTBpKGCniC2gAWX1K-l_Utx7pqwpD16vy4/s1600/mckurt2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3gRhLUrjejxgbPRYP2KdFaA5v3ncmvd-PfcsuHnD6KAw55pxdGSD7kd9J0gT47-Vhkdf2hSjNQKpVQjC-DvhFONVRXugSscndDsnrgiJDMSTBpKGCniC2gAWX1K-l_Utx7pqwpD16vy4/s1600/mckurt2.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtxJSJUGL15B5KTAFMn63OeC0Z3iTFIfXzLB76yV09sCSbJCpjkBONY8xK4_9IE3_ibCmJmHo62LY8DjTbgjbT-44HLM12lxBQBt24Wrw_1jxP7bG4MBlL6Fqn1diEnkOzdH2ysegS0f8/s1600/mckurt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtxJSJUGL15B5KTAFMn63OeC0Z3iTFIfXzLB76yV09sCSbJCpjkBONY8xK4_9IE3_ibCmJmHo62LY8DjTbgjbT-44HLM12lxBQBt24Wrw_1jxP7bG4MBlL6Fqn1diEnkOzdH2ysegS0f8/s1600/mckurt.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8cM6sdR1H1FhhbHp4q6PIqACzPLTLzkfloJz5wgKSkSxvKLyHEeJr_Pg1moyYI2QYU-9jDsSbSptBhvF-VLjhGRazxo4q7w5uloqzg3Bdxveqc5voZPCC-X6O5_DEZ9QQ9z7N-WD50Jw/s1600/sloppything.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8cM6sdR1H1FhhbHp4q6PIqACzPLTLzkfloJz5wgKSkSxvKLyHEeJr_Pg1moyYI2QYU-9jDsSbSptBhvF-VLjhGRazxo4q7w5uloqzg3Bdxveqc5voZPCC-X6O5_DEZ9QQ9z7N-WD50Jw/s1600/sloppything.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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A bunch of crappy cell phone photos of off-the-cuff drawings that take literally a few minutes. Lately I am just having the hardest time sitting down and starting something. I let a billion things run through my mind and distract me from focusing. And because I'm anxious that I'm not creating anything really substantial or awesome, I enter this downward spiral of self-doubt. AAAHHH STOP IT BRAIN. Ironically if i just shut up my brain and sat down and DID SOMETHING I"D FEEL SO MUCH BETTER!<br />
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Sometimes i drive myself freaking insane.
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That will be a future post. For now, here's my latest shtuff:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNPoOq_ynIpIGHLY1xjMv_H_uhfo7ZYjyrPR1eXHgyN6JtaDZEj0wPebh4TQGfEGKWG3RmQD2NQ_Ytx4r_wrttwbMZ9qFl29r1489z-cI-wwaKXYWahB0Yt04lsq4bfFrBOsP4xWSGuJo/s1600/IMG_5920.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNPoOq_ynIpIGHLY1xjMv_H_uhfo7ZYjyrPR1eXHgyN6JtaDZEj0wPebh4TQGfEGKWG3RmQD2NQ_Ytx4r_wrttwbMZ9qFl29r1489z-cI-wwaKXYWahB0Yt04lsq4bfFrBOsP4xWSGuJo/s1600/IMG_5920.JPG" height="303" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">I'm doing a series of vans. This one is #3. number 4 is currently in the works. I guess I should post one and two at some point when I have a good pic of them. </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0vzUZ-_dpZ0AoLLP4eybET2B89bv9unCtOEZ2pImzWMy3XsdyueD5_sHQtVdZELyF6e6L5JTFEfkIZ7WjsAeoly16f7FmawIdLeN5j0u4dkkOK9VjbXTnP9BM6TmvEYRsaVIiGWZKzRY/s1600/IMG_5923.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0vzUZ-_dpZ0AoLLP4eybET2B89bv9unCtOEZ2pImzWMy3XsdyueD5_sHQtVdZELyF6e6L5JTFEfkIZ7WjsAeoly16f7FmawIdLeN5j0u4dkkOK9VjbXTnP9BM6TmvEYRsaVIiGWZKzRY/s1600/IMG_5923.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">This person. Actually this person is me. I took a pic of myself when I was crying. That sounds weird, but I did it. Then a while later, I was looking through my pictures for reference material and found that photo and decided to use it.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRgwND-X36h2jhwavu8Wx6uhHbqjOzqAn6EoMNCCWmFb4W6wzEWleX5l2HQqM89cvwcWqjeaItDN9jMpbJglaOs6RLHeoGtYxUt9vszX6QvX3D1UWAlgZxyDMXla_SpJztmp6N3ewBgAM/s1600/IMG_5925.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRgwND-X36h2jhwavu8Wx6uhHbqjOzqAn6EoMNCCWmFb4W6wzEWleX5l2HQqM89cvwcWqjeaItDN9jMpbJglaOs6RLHeoGtYxUt9vszX6QvX3D1UWAlgZxyDMXla_SpJztmp6N3ewBgAM/s1600/IMG_5925.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">freaking roses man. I will master these mofos someday, I just know it. The thing is, I've been practicing drawing roses for a couple weeks now and they leave me so confused. I want to get over the confusion and get to the point of clarity. ROSE CLARITY.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">bye for now</span></td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12862935403393181644noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3435332729002449632.post-49094423253942684012014-01-08T09:49:00.001-08:002014-01-08T09:50:13.950-08:00herroherro world.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYRwLgMbBCtxXPTfNAFI8LlX8rofZGs6T4YzWlr2rA-H9yAW5CTbjSSWYBAk5-P7JcPUFB-jO9mBHiA_cyBDgyZWxOqJlOu4ETFQYX1suPw5MdtYOz3hStjx06FoZFl7uZW1yt4G3lYgw/s1600/elephant.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYRwLgMbBCtxXPTfNAFI8LlX8rofZGs6T4YzWlr2rA-H9yAW5CTbjSSWYBAk5-P7JcPUFB-jO9mBHiA_cyBDgyZWxOqJlOu4ETFQYX1suPw5MdtYOz3hStjx06FoZFl7uZW1yt4G3lYgw/s1600/elephant.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">I painted this for my sister. Acrylic and fabric marker and sharpee on canvas</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">There's more too but I have to go do laundry now. Later</span></div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12862935403393181644noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3435332729002449632.post-56434677156579754022013-08-23T15:25:00.002-07:002013-08-23T17:42:15.217-07:00dadWell it's been... kind of a difficult couple of months. My dad died July 5. And my sister just found out that she has to put her cat down.<br />
It's weird and I'm still processing it and I feel different and I know life is different forever now. It was my birthday the other day and I went to my mom's house and my dad's absence was a huge presence. It was like the elephant in the room. Things were kinda upbeat, and every now and then we'd mention him, something he used to say. But we didn't dwell, but sometimes I just wish we would dwell. I spent the summer with my sisters and we dwelled on it together, we cried and told stories and listened to his favorite music and cooked together and drank wine, lots of wine. Then I had to leave and it's weird and isolating being around friends and people who aren't going through this. I want people to talk to about it. It's a unique, acute, different kind of pain. It's something I've never experienced before. I have known people who have died before and that hurt. But when your father dies....it's completely its own thing. It makes you think, OK so... who in this family is next then? I only have one more parent now. My mom and that's it, no one else. She was telling my sisters and I when we were with her in July where the deed to the cemetery is for when we need it when she dies. And it's like...OK I guess that's a handy thing to know, but thinking about that gives me heart palpatations and a headache and a heartache. Things are different now forever. My dear ol man is gone. I even wrote him a letter the day before he passed away. Tears pouring out of me and dotting the paper as I wrote, I wanted to tell him all the things I never said out loud to him, things like how much I love him, how he used to say the exact perfect thing to me to make me feel better about myself, like how much he influenced my appreciation for music and noticing the subtle beauty of life, and how we would laugh and laugh together, we had the same sense of humor and we would encourage each other into fits of hysterical laughter. Then the next morning I went to the mailbox (I was in Cali at the time) and dropped it in the mail. Then an hour later my mom called us to tell us he was gone. My mom wanted my sister and I to be together to talk to us so I knew a phone call was coming but it was like that song, "Don't Speak" by No Doubt where she's like I know what you're saying so please stop explaining, don't tell me 'cause it hurts, I did not want to talk on the phone and I didn't want to talk to anyone, I just wanted to walk angrily down the street crying because I didn't want to face facts.<br />
But then I flew to CT for the funeral and my younger sis and I met up with my two other sisters and mom, and then my letter arrived a couple days later and I stuck it in my dad's suit jacket he wore at the wake and now my letter is buried next to my dad's heart.<br />
And now he's gone but in some ways, and maybe it's a coping mechanism but in some ways I know he's not gone, I know that love goes on and one thing I learned from all this is that you are not your body. And love is eternal and I know, deep inside that he shows up every day in my life and he will always be a part of me, I will always carry him with me, forever.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12862935403393181644noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3435332729002449632.post-16468599452226078302013-04-19T21:25:00.001-07:002013-04-19T21:28:04.990-07:00here's the latest<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Been a while, huh?<br />
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Here's the latest!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://sphotos-a.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-frc1/392956_484412458290437_583193539_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://sphotos-a.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-frc1/392956_484412458290437_583193539_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">I painted this elephant one night while hanging out with my boyfriend in the living room, watching netflix. No plan whatsoever. Then I posted it on facebook, a friend wanted to buy it, then she got it framed and BOOM! A legit piece of art. How do ya like that?!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://sphotos-a.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/40854_485074908224192_1270075141_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://sphotos-a.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/40854_485074908224192_1270075141_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">I did this painting of Courtney Love about 2 weeks ago. I didn't intend for it to be a particularly unflattering portrait. I actually had a super lot of fun painting this. I didn't really care how it came out and I ended up splattering paint all over it after I thought I was finished. I felt really liberated. (Admittedly I was listening to Nirvana on my headphones while painting this and I think they had a lot to do with how it came out. It was a symbiotic relationship.)</span></td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12862935403393181644noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3435332729002449632.post-47563604834467482912013-03-06T08:55:00.001-08:002013-03-06T08:57:18.189-08:00Babyyyy<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos-a.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-prn1/563404_474005442664472_367094187_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://sphotos-a.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-prn1/563404_474005442664472_367094187_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">My latest commission was also my first commission for someone I don't even know, who lives 3,000 miles away in Seattle! This is her nephew. I mailed it out last week, so she should be getting it tomorrow. I sincerely hope she loves it.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Watercolor on paper, 11x14. I probably should take better photos of my art, with better lighting and proper cropping and whatnot. You know, to look professional and stuff.</span></td></tr>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12862935403393181644noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3435332729002449632.post-59265572052246970462013-02-12T19:32:00.001-08:002013-02-12T19:32:28.331-08:00Watercolor baby<div><p dir="ltr">Here's the latest! Warm-up for a commission</p>
<br/><img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgiwOoEGMwZqg8Q4JlyJzBC4nW8hdenfuZ4A73QziBUqf-7lZUYRvQn-KMNDt3zm3rWf3T8Z03RrlfmFRRgzj_coB85cSxTqcr8nuctxOjP7cv1TGcvfQH328s4n_ktgiYN0umoXy6yTg/' /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12862935403393181644noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3435332729002449632.post-40308007846275024342013-02-06T18:29:00.003-08:002013-02-06T18:29:43.417-08:00Here we go<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMB3B3Y_xXoVpD-pUM_OTFSc-jh5ihKyN-BVVu4l19RyBBVOSMUyK9lQIFkFzZVZmQ5rfqbTKjAeKrAqcm2E2-cC_EMXrpDbUOYHUDNEgxHPt9q7eGN_EM1j2_Jf-Pw2U9tz03bbNHa4Y/s1600/IMG_5352.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMB3B3Y_xXoVpD-pUM_OTFSc-jh5ihKyN-BVVu4l19RyBBVOSMUyK9lQIFkFzZVZmQ5rfqbTKjAeKrAqcm2E2-cC_EMXrpDbUOYHUDNEgxHPt9q7eGN_EM1j2_Jf-Pw2U9tz03bbNHa4Y/s320/IMG_5352.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12862935403393181644noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3435332729002449632.post-50596577544654294432013-01-04T19:26:00.001-08:002013-01-04T19:26:09.014-08:00More watercolors; more commissions<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://sphotos-b.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash4/307168_10200434192357786_1294567896_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://sphotos-b.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash4/307168_10200434192357786_1294567896_n.jpg" width="245" /></a></div>
This is a practice piece (I think) for a commission I'm working on. Pretty much the only reason I consider it a practice piece is because it doesn't really look THAT much like her; but then again, the photo she gave me to work from is pretty washed out and feature-less. To be honest I'd say this looks more like Hilary Swank, hahaha.<br />
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<a href="http://sphotos-b.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/547503_10200348017643472_668055557_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="289" src="http://sphotos-b.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/547503_10200348017643472_668055557_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I recently finished this painting for my friend Sahar who lives in Seattle. She just messaged me on Facebook to say that she's been showing it to a bunch of people she knows out there, and now a few of them are interested in commissioning me to paint for them!! aaahhhh I'm so excited that people across the country who I don't even know want to commission me. This only fuels my desire to quit my day job and nurture this so that it grows into something truly substantial. IT'S POSSIBLE!!!!!!<br />
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<a href="http://sphotos-a.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/530519_10200421561882032_2069215743_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="306" src="http://sphotos-a.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/530519_10200421561882032_2069215743_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
And last but not least, I did this on New Year's Day just for fun. I copied an Egon Schiele painting and basically let loose with the watercolors.<br />
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Yeah watercolors are so my thing now.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12862935403393181644noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3435332729002449632.post-36570946574508179162012-11-25T12:40:00.002-08:002012-11-25T12:40:45.454-08:00it is what it isIt is what it is. Things are only OK or not OK because of your perception. Put your filter aside and it is only what it is and nothing more or less.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12862935403393181644noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3435332729002449632.post-13756127441222905352012-10-12T06:58:00.001-07:002012-10-12T06:58:40.014-07:00Celia<div><p dir=ltr>Here's a closeup of my latest portrait. Oil on canvas, 16x20</p>
<br/><img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji1XfdOlCkamZedL6mp9vsEnV8geGxkmV41iBUaPKQQ94Tt00TDYLanmFskpGvQmRvxbyDJa9s8sa-HjN5DXvugXFVs-dPrG5S7cV8wh6RFtY_UWtdg9IZcEjqCy0n9JF7pksZvmfH-h8/' /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12862935403393181644noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3435332729002449632.post-14693260215954417032012-10-04T11:30:00.001-07:002012-10-04T11:30:04.204-07:00More watercolor practice<div><br/><img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSe5Sw-ahxTwrYly7jxYiGECXBPRRyajLDjdR_0w-53_bzvQD62TdWtFnSx1mXZ3gcxCa7mIZXMOyMmB6YlkPBtWoWRg5XLrbqT4KnXddC-uyxt4ny6KwTfconOI1sGdDEDeVbKxoeDIA/' /><br/><img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX2BIYBrlA7FsJyjUHaYYU0VwYSimRgUbM1s5oKf1TXiMJRPd2yIeqS9YkE9Da15fvDDbTShW57r0xCVIc-4CZRlPRX8sGGZBLSA1_iu06Xd19Qae2tJb7LZkncsnPcJ0qjTHRDmI3LcU/' /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12862935403393181644noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3435332729002449632.post-3841513008453608712012-09-22T19:51:00.001-07:002012-09-23T12:11:24.753-07:00Watercolors<div><p dir=ltr>Really into watercolors lately. Never really had an interest until recently. They are just so low maintenance; easy cleanup and portable. I did these yesterday and today. There are others I did a few weeks ago that I'll post later. I'm just getting the hang of it. Mostly it's something I do while watching a movie. They're mostly just practice, but I'm really enjoying the process.</p>
<br/><img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtux_Q-tgG09cx14wBkxCsWYCgRLR7WvV_2bcotAW2GSz1IfLcn1NoeHe2oc22P2dzdS8L83udgGu-qXMX8estsoPqJQVlCqlJhaL4CBJAe0nLE-KCKpfoSi4zCJ1fYtsV5SB39txZOmU/' /><br/><img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8qBqI7a_petbSanJ8kLqKP70fMoYYK5zI568ylr5EqEdBWDanL3YC2cIRzJfEdQRfETvXrpVz8uT6GxEG6TSM6iIPGbRIzyEDE7CEqAlAY6Dhw5puZwFt-AlMdItE2ML_lL3BYlO9WSI/' /><br/><img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3DE-nqZeP_zEZZ7EdPbpi18xr66zbVrk6X4hY6XnfSKLtvvdBpxdgBX_VxX4UnFLafwOdLl0yJqdkHwZZCoMywZI7IihPr_sVIw8O-cKAB4aUwNVFEBcZ7qVjxjR9gCX6LC9id9VpZ6w/' /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12862935403393181644noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3435332729002449632.post-47645813739563062712012-09-11T18:28:00.001-07:002012-09-11T18:28:04.058-07:009/11<div><p dir=ltr>I can't believe that shit was eleven years ago. I was 18 and in art school. Drawing class. During break. I passed a TV and stopped. I was so naive I barely knew what it meant. I walked back to class in a daze. My first impulse was to shout it to the teacher and classmates, but something stopped me. Instead I decided to watch them all in their last moments of not knowing. Their last moments of living in a pre-9/11 world. I watched sadly. Then 5 minute s later another classmate ran in and announced it. The teacher was in disbelief: "What?! No. No. Are you serious?" A bewildered expression on his face. Finally he let as all go.</p>
<p dir=ltr>And time marches on.</p>
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12862935403393181644noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3435332729002449632.post-33870239374360933262012-07-03T06:45:00.001-07:002012-07-03T06:51:07.770-07:00So I hung my art show yesterday. Took maybe an hour, quick and painless. I lucked out because this just sort of fell in my lap. Beginner's luck I guess? I'm friends with the guy who owns the art store on facebook, he sees all the paintings I post, and he invited me to have an art show.<br />
<br />
I see this as practice for the future. I've invited all these people I care about because I just want the support. I find it hard to really believe it's that big of a deal, but I wanted lots of people to come out and see my stuff. Now I have family coming from hours away to the opening reception, and I almost wanna backtrack and be like, "Wait! It's not worth a 4-hour drive!! This is not a fancy occasion or anything, it's just the art store in small-town Willimantic!" Don't get me wrong, I'm over the moon to have this opportunity. But people, this ain't Chelsea.<br />
<br />
But mostly I've surrendered to it. I feel pretty good about what I put in. I worked hard for it (I could've worked harder, but I guess one could always work harder). I'm not so nervous about it anymore. It's out of my hands. It is what it is.<br />
<br />
I intend for this to be just the beginning. I lucked out with this just coming to me, but now I gotta put in work to find calls for artists and scope out gallery spaces in nearby towns or cities close by like Hartford or Providence or even Boston. Even if they're just cafes. <br />
<br />
Most of all I intend to keep on producing. It has to be my mantra. Produce, produce, produce.....<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12862935403393181644noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3435332729002449632.post-31619013192731966032012-06-14T12:07:00.002-07:002012-06-14T12:13:43.493-07:00Ashlyn and Isabel<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjprqgl5GSw4yzJQvDpAD1sTCnGkegTfuT53vvg4Mjq4lMgd0CX94aG3hGT6S9g72spSoRzyd-OPT-UH7DKOBDNrLK6SEIDBnTdiXTD2TnV19JYx6qItbf6r8zDeT29OgjvYiv3eIavj60/s1600/IMG_4518.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjprqgl5GSw4yzJQvDpAD1sTCnGkegTfuT53vvg4Mjq4lMgd0CX94aG3hGT6S9g72spSoRzyd-OPT-UH7DKOBDNrLK6SEIDBnTdiXTD2TnV19JYx6qItbf6r8zDeT29OgjvYiv3eIavj60/s320/IMG_4518.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 21px;">My childhood friend Carrie, who along with her brother lived across the street from me when we were kids, now lives in Arizona, got married last year, and had twin girls who were born prematurely in February. They've been having all kinds of problems and I keep up by reading her blog and checking up on facebook. She recently snapped a photo of the girls with her cell phone, and I fell so in love with this particular photo that I messaged her and asked if I could paint it, and then just mail it to her. She teared up and said of course I could.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 21px;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 21px;">I started it yesterday and finished today.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><br style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px;" /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 21px;"> </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12862935403393181644noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3435332729002449632.post-8406225788511280152012-06-08T06:31:00.001-07:002012-06-08T06:31:57.899-07:00Kicking it into high geer<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKVc0Upe07zQ5GVlmnAgydrDi6sj14oPZNjvOAWdtBK5pauk3zHq55jPPnt-Ic3I7M8s6-jBVExrrjLtTY_-aw-rs8BLOHdydnshgAtEiGFIQgzrTZJIrw1imQ2PIO4Jhjgt5N5X-_i8s/s1600/IMG_4496.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKVc0Upe07zQ5GVlmnAgydrDi6sj14oPZNjvOAWdtBK5pauk3zHq55jPPnt-Ic3I7M8s6-jBVExrrjLtTY_-aw-rs8BLOHdydnshgAtEiGFIQgzrTZJIrw1imQ2PIO4Jhjgt5N5X-_i8s/s320/IMG_4496.JPG" width="250" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vanessa and Ashley, my friends who are identical twins</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
So I gotta bring my paintings over to the art store where I'm showing at the end of this month. I'm working on three paintings between now and then. I just banged this one out in a matter of hours. It's funny how some take way longer than others. I had started another one before this, then decided to move on and get a start on this one and just ended up finishing it too. Now I gotta go back and finish the first one. And start the last one.<br />
<br />
I've been working in the studio all during my weekends and squeezing in time before and after work too. Not only that but I have all these other obligations (gotta dog/house sit for someone in a couple weeks) and invitations (bbq's, birthday parties, etc etc) and I am pretty overwhelmed. This art show though is my first priority. I sincerely wish I had all the time in the world to be able to accommodate every opportunity that ever comes my way but it's just not like that for me right now.<br />
<br />
All I can say is, I CANNOT WAIT for vacation in a little over a month. I don't think I've ever needed one this badly in my life.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12862935403393181644noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3435332729002449632.post-52289773883507267512012-05-29T06:21:00.002-07:002012-05-29T06:21:56.734-07:00Better!Feeling better this week! Gonna be starting several paintings at once this week if I wanna get a move-on! Can't wait to get back to the studio and into my oil paints...<div>
<br /></div>
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I'm glad I was born with a built-in sense of guilt and anxiety if I haven't been painting in a while. HA!</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12862935403393181644noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3435332729002449632.post-11966387195070236162012-05-23T14:22:00.001-07:002012-05-23T14:24:42.302-07:00Life Without Painting ClassWell hello there, all my legions of readers.<br />
<br />
It's my second week in to "summer vacation." Life feels incredibly more laid back, even though I still work a full-time schedule. So laid back even, that my body decided that this was a prime opportunity to get sick. So I had a fever for a couple days and missed work. But even though the fever went away a few days ago, I am still faintly congested, and I have never been more exhausted in my life. Really, I cannot remember ever feeling this tired and I'm not exaggerating. Mentally I'm great; I'm looking forward to my art show, going away on vacation, and just life being awesome. But physically I'm completely wiped out. I think of all the paintings I need to get finished before July, but my body basically forces me to lay low. I'll get up in the morning after having slept like the dead, make coffee, do a couple things around the house and then after a couple of hours of being up, I just want to go back to bed. It's weird and I want to snap out of it so I can get things done. It's even crossed my mind that what if I have mono? I suppose I'll wait a few days and if I still feel exhausted I'll go to the doctor.<br />
<br />
Hopefully by next week I'll feel energized enough to get these things started:<br />
<br />
-Commission for a friend<br />
-Painting of the twins<br />
-Sink series<br />
<br />
Until then I'm going to listen to my body and rest up.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12862935403393181644noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3435332729002449632.post-55028218605398037402012-05-15T18:03:00.001-07:002012-05-15T18:03:10.667-07:00ohhhhh yeah baby<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs03khHDwJWldZzIBNcPr_6yhPokh2Hw4ZqqxZDbEIdqsxotx_PnYUQlwL7IiKWYAoC0KJkQDklMd9zDRT2bO9Nz5gpU1nPGB3L5C6430_C5HdDOUEYMy36K4f4b9NXyTdy1t7MhYm6bI/s1600/IMG_4252.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="476" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs03khHDwJWldZzIBNcPr_6yhPokh2Hw4ZqqxZDbEIdqsxotx_PnYUQlwL7IiKWYAoC0KJkQDklMd9zDRT2bO9Nz5gpU1nPGB3L5C6430_C5HdDOUEYMy36K4f4b9NXyTdy1t7MhYm6bI/s640/IMG_4252.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12862935403393181644noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3435332729002449632.post-60828177743169772432012-05-10T15:02:00.001-07:002012-05-10T15:05:04.248-07:00bittersweet<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWN7NtYuuB-t18RrHOmcfc5DytWTpo-ekNoQdyxZiGPIJNcKGjxmM0GwHc6EzOBidvL0OLVqZq4X681F_CNsVJpl77LjC6Kc9ZLYgFXkJCw5UtQHYJ0DO8j-pT7hx6lL4Hxnd6B5Hqv_k/s1600/IMG_4252.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWN7NtYuuB-t18RrHOmcfc5DytWTpo-ekNoQdyxZiGPIJNcKGjxmM0GwHc6EzOBidvL0OLVqZq4X681F_CNsVJpl77LjC6Kc9ZLYgFXkJCw5UtQHYJ0DO8j-pT7hx6lL4Hxnd6B5Hqv_k/s320/IMG_4252.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
so it's the last day of the semester. i feel both a huge sense of relief and a little sad. i think in some ways this has been the best semester, even if it was really challenging overall. i made the most friends and painting class was pretty much just like going to hang out with my friends (teacher included) and paint together.<br />
<br />
tomorrow's the opening of the student art show. we all plan on staying an hour, then going out to this cafe in hartford afterwards. i'm looking forward to it.<br />
<br />
this sink painting was my final painting for class. the teacher basically let us go free for the last assignment and i had this idea that i wanted to paint at least one kitchen sink full of dishes. but i think i'm actually going to go ahead and make it a series.<br />
<br />
now that it's summer, i get to paint whatever the hell i want. i painted more than a couple of paintings that sucked this semester, mostly because i wasn't too crazy about the topic, or i was tired and didn't give it my all, or whatever. but now that it's summer, i'm excited to paint this portrait of my friends from class who are identical twins. i have a nice, giant canvas to put it on, too. i also have to paint a commission for a friend that's been hanging over my head since january. i hope to have at least 3 new pieces by july, for my art show that month. i'm just glad to be keeping busy with painting. i want to paint forever.<br />
<br />
other than that, life is confusing. i'm unsure about a lot of things. it's good to have this one thing in my life that is a constant, and can come with me, wherever i end up.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12862935403393181644noreply@blogger.com1