Something about the brushstroke.
Yesterday, I was sitting by the pool, alone, working on a portrait. Though, it would probably be better to say playing with a portrait, because the back and forth, the give and take, feel a lot more like play than work. Like tennis. Like chess. Like good conversation.
This portrait is a mid-sized oil painting of a handsome young boy – someone’s son, someone’s grandson, someone’s future heart throb. He’s caught in a private thought about...who knows what? The future? Tomorrow? Lunch? His world is just beginning. Anything is possible.
I love collaborating on portraits. I say collaborating because the “conversation” aspect is very real. I’ll bring the paint and the interpretation, while you bring the wonder that is you. We go back and forth, sliding in and out of focus until we get to a point where the eyes are clear and the feeling is right and everything extra is less evolved, more background. When it goes well, it’s a very, very good experience. A moment captured in time.
Someone stopped by while I was painting and asked if they could watch for a while. She made a comment that she enjoyed my brushstrokes because they traveled between impressionism, expressionism and realism, depending on their required roles. I told her that that was probably the nicest thing she could have said to me. Because that’s the point isn’t it?
We never focus on everything at the same time. We’re drawn in by something that impresses, we’re entertained and alerted by something expressive, and we’re comforted, or discomforted by the real.
This is how I paint. This is how I live. Such is life.
There are things known and there are things unknown,
and in between are the doors of perception.
– Aldous Huxley
Respond to the blog to find out more about arranging your own portrait or the portrait of your loved ones. They grow up so quickly, don't they?
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