Sandra Pearce Artist Blog

Every so often artists have periods where we feel stuck, at a standstill. Even though I am constantly reading new books by other artists, watching videos and my favorite, taking workshops with those I believe have insights to share, I still experience periods of feeling stalled. I will paint at every chance and yet feel I am revving my engine but not moving forward.

But all the repetitive practice and slower periods are rewarded in their own good time. Weeks or months after practicing and absorbing what was offered in a workshop, it finally becomes learned. It can be a gradual revelation or an AHA! moment.

The past few weeks have been such a time, a gradual epiphany if you will. Well, maybe not so gradual. And not so small...I got a collective smack on the forehead from many of my past workshop tutors, all in one big WHAP!

Leaving home one misty drizzly morning, I saw the same quaint little white church in a whole new light. Spellbound, I studied it for quite some time. I see that church almost daily, and study it often, so its image is seared in my memory. What I needed to remember this day was the light, mist and atmosphere. My rendition to come and how to paint it was on my mind constantly: when I went to bed, woke up, driving, while doing mundane tasks, until the day I finally got to start in.

Church o' the Wood I

The preliminary value thumbnail sketch was easy, and my vision was so far, so good. Limited colors for a cool wet scene of grays and greens were laid out. Half sheet paper loosely marked with placement of the main elements, wet the paper front and back and off I went. Dashing in soft distant trees, getting stronger, darker as they came closer and as the paper began to dry.

Somewhere along this path I went too far; the church looked too sweet which was not my intention. The distance, overhanging fir, road, even the ditch were working, but somehow I missed my mark. And I did not like the entire left side. Cropping the left half off the painting seemed the solution, and then I quite liked it. The focus seemed to move from the church to the atmosphere. Improvement, but not enough.

Church o' the Wood II

The value sketch was still right, as were the color choices and the paper size. Even the procedure was the same, except this time, shading the church early on, and slight change in the trees' brushwork. An unintended large gap between trees and church needed something, and I decided the grey scene needed color, adding pink blossoms to the twiggy tree (as it was now blooming).

This time the original composition works, and I rather like it, but feel it's again too sweet and a bit overworked. Not at all what I intended.

Church o' the Wood III

OK. I have had enough of this game, getting impatient with myself. This time, no pink. Work faster. Bigger brushes - beat them up if I have to. Where's my paper? Let's try this piece, an odd size but good ratio, and a more absorbent paper that won't let me fuss with the paint so much; let's see what this does for me.

I worked in a bit of a fury, same process as before - I had that right, at least. The absorbent surface meant I had less time to contemplate colors, mix paints, fiddle with corrections. I was concerned how the evergreens may look, smashing the brush in an effort to get the scratchy look of firs, but I did not have the usual luxury of time to "fix" things, and I told myself to let it go.

The voices of many past tutors were echoing loudly...Let the paint be paint...make every stroke count...less is more...the overall effect will work...let the viewer fill in the details...don't be so careful...put it down and leave it alone...stop fiddling! WHAP!

Freed up to paint with vigor, with energy, inhibitions were falling by the wayside. Strangely, this is how I feel when painting en plein air. I often think my plein air work is some of my best. Why has it taken so long to influence my studio work? Outside, the changing light, moving objects, weather conditions force quickness and economy of brushstrokes. The studio eliminates all those difficulties, to the benefit of some paintings, but not always mine.

Artists grow in steps, some large, some small. I think of it as plateaus, much like desert mesas. We travel along for a while at a certain level, and something changes, we see anew. We each climb our own obstacle and arrive at a new plateau - for a little while - until the next ascent. Having just earned my next plateau, what will evolve from here?

I am happy with Church o' the Woods III, finally! New visions are emerging for rework of some of my past paintings that I felt could be better, but didn't quite know how. And lots of ideas are materializing for new pieces. I can't wait to dive in - excited for the future!

WHAP!!