Big Update on our Etsy Shop
It’s always fun to be able to say, “I just sold an original watercolor!”
We’ve recently updated our Etsy Shop, to include one hundred original watercolor sketches, and this was the first to sell :)
One of my favorites from our 2016 trip to Portugal, even though it’s not a historic landmark – just a rutted dirt track and some pine trees. Sometimes the simplest of views line up with the perfect time of day, and suddenly you have a favorite memory.
I feel like I remember every one of the good pieces. The ones that magically work out. Because it doesn’t happen every time! That’s for sure :) Watercolor is so difficult; one success out of ten is a good result.
When everything flows for you, when the color and values just click, and the brush drawing sings; you remember these magic moments, even years later.
{ A Marathon of Miniatures, 2016 }
That’s why travel and sketching works for me. I can’t always just sit down and be inspired; like flipping a switch. We’re going to make a work of art now! I find I have to go out, do stuff, see new places, eat the local food, and all the while be continually sketching.
Eventually one of them takes you by surprise. You never know which is going to be the one that jumps off the page.
{ Day Three of #OneWeek100People 2018 }
I should say; it’s actually my wife Laurel who made this happen.
We have a room filled with boxes and boxes of sketches from all over the world. I’ve tried to keep them organized by date and country-of-origin as they accumulated, but to be honest it’s quite a raven’s nest of books and papers. She’s been diligently selecting, and individually matting and photographing over a hundred pieces from our archives. It’s taken her almost a year of work in her spare time.
{ Sketching Ireland: Five Strategies for Sketching in the Rain }
So yes; For some of you, it might be uniquely inspiring to own one the pieces from my old posts!
My time as an urban sketchers correspondent was a very special opportunity to see the world and develop myself as a painter. All while working alongside so many wonderful artists.
{ #30x30DirectWatercolor2022: Hokiin Temple, Japan }
Some of the sketches in the shop are workshop demonstrations, some from life drawing, but most of them are original works made on the street. Often leaning in a doorway or against a lamppost, trying to be out of people’s way. Sometimes standing under the hot sun, because it’s the only spot for the good view; sometimes trying to get it done before the rain erases your page; sometimes while entertaining a crowd of locals or excited kids.
{ Steam and Stone with Simonetta }
Each one is a piece of the Urban Sketching life that we were so lucky to enjoy for over twenty years.
I’m almost convincing myself we shouldn’t sell these! These are my real life experiences put down on paper!
But there you go; maybe that’s a truth about being an artist. You do the work for yourself, for the enjoyment of the creative flow; but you also want other people to love it. It can’t just stay in a box in your attic! The real fun is in the sharing.
{ Inside Front Cover; ebook edition of Direct Watercolor, 2018 }
So as always, my thanks to everyone who’s followed the blog for all these years, and I hope you’ll find something to love on the Etsy store :)
Thanks, and take care!
~ Marc
Viger Station:
The Montreal Urban Sketchers met up the other day at Viger Square, a newly renovated park between the historic Viger Station (built in 1898 and named after Jacques Viger, the first Mayor of Montreal) and the CHUM, our new downtown mega-hospital.
I’ve been very spotty with USK meetups the last few years, but I had to show up for this classic Canadian Pacific Railway building. Our local station is probably less famous than another CPR Hotel built by architect Bruce Price; the Chateau Frontenac in Quebec City, which I’ve sketched many times.
Today, the Frontenac is still a bustling hotel, but the Viger has been remade as a tech-business hub. Instead of trains, they do e-commerce in there :) I guess that’s somewhat ironic, but also somewhat fitting.
I grew up in Alberta, and the historic CPR hotels, the Fairmont in Edmonton, the Banff Springs, and the Chateau Lake Louise are iconic memories. Frankly, they’re some of the only long-standing Canadian history in these towns :)
On a personal note, my grandfather was a CPR Section Man. His job meant spending days on his own, travelling remote sections of Southern Alberta by handcar. A little sled that rode the rails via muscle power. One of my grandad’s trophies was an old steel thermos, bent in half by a train he dodged at the last second. The family always sent him artwork of trains for his birthday, which hung in their little place on South Railway Street, Medicine Hat, where I spent most of my summers as a child. They were close enough to the station their apartment would rattle and hum when trains passed in the night.
My memory is, one of the perks of his pension was that family could travel for free? Or at least that’s how I remember it. I was still a kid when passenger rail in Alberta essentially ended as a useful mode of transportation.
So, here’s an old-favorite sketch of the Gare Viger from 2016.
Now; my painting today is half-sheet (15×22″) and this little one is only 5.5 x 6.5″ (part of a ‘Marathon of Miniatures‘) so this is not a fair comparison at all! But, I’ll leave it up to you to say; Am I improving as a painter, or losing it in my old age???
Hah! (Fishing for compliments much?)
I’ll be the first to admit that my sketches are perhaps losing some sharpness. Not quite as crisply illustrated. I no longer look for the most detailed possible subject, so I can sink hours into drawing the ornamentation. Every year I have less and less patience for drawing details. Even less respect for perspective :) I’ve never been about that :)
This one took a couple hours, but I’ve never worked slower to be honest! My new thing is taking my time, snacking as I go, having a drink, (I really miss caffeinated drinks, but I can’t anymore!) I like to fiddle with the drawing. I draw and erase now! I actually allow myself an eraser! Full circle. I used to do complex under drawings back in the day, even ink over them and erase; then I banned that, and there was a multi-year phase of no drawings allowed; and now I’m back to drawings. These days I like to plan what I’m going to shape-weld into a single mass; where I’m going to make edges with dark-against-light; plan how I’m going to make the thing *look* spontaneous; then do the whole thing in a few minutes work.
Go slow; to go fast.
I think if you continue to paint 10,15, 20 years on, it’s inevitable to become less labor-focused, less performative, and be more interested in abstraction. You develop your own language. Your own color-sense. The paintings become a personal shorthand. It has to remain interesting inside your own head, even if the work outside becomes less and less accessible to people.
It’s a bit of a curse; but I’ve seen it happen with many many artists before me.
So, thanks for reading and following, and I’m happy to still be out there painting and enjoying the sun while it lasts. This might be both the first, and the final Plein Air of 2024!
Olmec: People of Stone
My buddy might be moving to Japan! So we decided to get in one more sketching outing before he heads off. (Actually he’ll be back, it’s only a scouting trip for now, but soon!) I’m impressed with his sense of adventure. But yes! We decided to take in the Olmec exhibition at the Pointe-à-Callière.
This giant head is as tall as a tweenager and five times as wide. It looks like a big baby head, but the meanest big baby you ever met. He’s probably a warrior, but it might be an athlete, playing the mesoamerican ball game ōllamaliztli.
The Olmec are my favorite of the Mesoamerican peoples, artistically speaking. I love the strange distortions in their art style. These slouching fellows with the elongated skulls are about the size of a GI-Joe, carved from jade, and were found placed in a conversational grouping of about a dozen figures, buried in a grave mound.
Who knows the meaning of these carvings? But they look like little wizards having a deep conversation.
I didn’t check if there was any information on this stone head – The label just says; ‘Zoomorphic Head’.
It sure looks like a dragon hey? It’s hollow, with an opening in the skull (as with both of the figures coming up next) and it’s my completely unsubstantiated opinion that they would have placed smoking fires inside, sending up spooky tendrils; completing the dragon-like illusion.
The next two figures are from later periods; the imagery in these areas gets more and more ornamental over time; more fun to draw :)
The oddly flattened crown on this figure was probably backed with a flowered or feathered headdress making it twice as large and very colorful. And, the ornaments next to the ear of the larger face are dangling human hands! The reverse side of the stone figure below is a human skeleton facing the opposite direction.
Very ominous!
I have to imagine him as a high-priest wearing a stretched human skin on his head. There’s also a spherical hole in the center of the chest – just the right size for a human heart.
Just saying.
We know these cultures practiced human sacrifice, but there was no discussion at the exhibition what that opening in the chest was for.
Another detail you probably won’t spot; the portly gentleman below is wearing a belt made of entwined serpents. I love this sort of fantastical, mythological stuff! Magic was real to people in those days. I should spend more time reading about these old priests and their gods, but really, I just enjoy sketching and imagining what things were like.
All sketches 6×9″ sketchbook pages, drawn at the museum and painted in a nearby café.
Pigments; mostly Goethite and Pyrrole Orange. The darks are Indigo, Bloodstone and Tyrian Purple.
Le Dépanneur
Do you know the Quebecois word “Dépanneur”?
It’s from the verb dépanner meaning ‘to fix’ or ‘to repair’, so a dépanneur is a handyman, and a dépanneuse is a tow truck. < Ahh, gender in French. Tradition hey!
Around here it also means ‘corner store’. I’m not sure if they used to carry a few hardware items, but my guess is the meaning is more like “We’re here to lend a hand.”
This shop is out of business, and the apartments upstairs are empty; the windows are hung with plastic, but the hand-sawn wooden sign is still up, with its vintage Coca-Cola medallions. Used to be, these places were all over the island, offering the basic groceries: a can of ravioli or a box of cereal, or more likely your sixer of beer, pack of cigs and assorted dirty magazines.
These days these shops are giving way to cafes and the occasional vape shop. We always used to joke they were backed by the mafia so they’d never go out of business. I don’t know if the mafia is trading up? or if they’ve just gone all in on road maintenance for their money laundering.
So that’s the kind of little sketch I’m doing these days. About 5 inches high if that? Just sitting in a back alley, chatting with a buddy from USK and enjoying the last days of summer :)
2024 #30×30 Day 30! Crossing the Finish Line!
10×10″ Oil on Panel.
Crossing the finish line! Sad that it’s the end, but also kind of ready for a break:)
Uma Kelkar and I launched #30×30 on a whim seven years ago. Because we think it’s a great idea for students, but mainly because we wanted to do it ourselves! Anyone who continues making art, year on year, will develop their own rituals and superstitions. We all gravitate towards a working method that matches our brains. I’m sure it’s different for everyone, but if you have the right mix of over-thinking and attention-deficit that I have, a mad push followed by a collapse might be the only sustainable system.
The willingness to ignore all other responsibilities and simply focus on your work. I don’t know if it can be sustained for longer than thirty days at a time?
You can call it a marathon, or call it a sprint. Or call it a risk of public humiliation. You’ve promised to paint when you’re sick, paint when you’re tired, and paint when you’re sure nobody cares. But the real keys is; you’ve promised to broadcast every single thing you do, for better or worse, in real time.
That’s a powerful drug! The fear of letting people down works magic on my motivation :)
Oh sure, besides that, there’s an ‘attunement’ you get from painting every day. A refined sense of color-mixing, and a sensitivity to the physicality of the paint. With watercolor it’s an uncanny ability to sense the dampness of the paper and the dispersion of the paint. With oils it might be a master chef’s ability to feel the texture of ingredients under your knife.
These things can’t be measured with grams and milliliters. It has to be instinct. You need to be in the flow-state.
That’s the secret recipe: The sprint keeps your mind focused on your materials, the marathon keeps you showing up, the teamwork won’t let you quit.
I hope you’ve caught some of the magic.
Take care, please drop me some comments about your own marathon. How it feels to cross that finish line. Share your best work, share your epic fail, or share a story of what you discovered.
Ok! We’ll see you next year!
~Marc
2024 #30×30 Day 29
10×10″ Oil on Panel.
I think it’s clear what I’m doing with this series, which is choosing big huge views that are wide enough and vast enough to remove any specific details. They’re an abstraction of the landscape; no buildings, no cars, no people – nothing left but color.
Maybe most significant for me, an artist who’s done so much travelogue – they don’t come with a story about this or that place, or who discovered the view, or what trail to take up the mountain.
They’re a purely visual experience.
There’s a magic trick here; feeling the pull of the imaginary horizon, the sensation of space and depth, while simultaneously being confronted by the juiciness of the paint. The tactile surface simultaneously creating and destroying the illusion.
I’m not sure why I love the feeling so much, but I can look at these for hours. Letting them flip back and forth like the optical illusions they are.
It’s been a great 30×30, even though I’m breaking all the rules :) Including not pushing myself to get to thirty. I’ve always said to people: Do whatever you can. Go at your own pace. Don’t pressure yourself. But I’ve never taken my own advice.
If I do one more tomorrow, I’ll have made 22 paintings in the 30 days.
It’s very possible this is just what getting older is like! I’ve been relaxing, giving myself an entire month to simply enjoy painting, recapturing what I love so much about color mixing and mark making, and everything that oil painting does differently from any other medium.
I haven’t been experiencing the rush (and anxiety) of producing thirty paintings in advance (I’ve often done 30 in 15 days in order to make it work), scanning paintings, editing demo videos, engaging in social media on all fronts, all at the same time. And in return, I’m much more attached to these paintings. I really am painting for myself, after all these years.
So yes; it’s a weird seventh year of #30x30DirectWatercolor (but of course – all the past years are still here on the blog). Maybe it can be an example of how to motivate yourself, just for yourself. Ultimately, that’s the only thing you can do, if your artwork is going to continue to mature, and you’re going to keep up the drive year after year.
So thanks everyone, for helping me get to this spot today.
And if any of you have been doing the event this year, please post your #30×30 in the comments. Feel free to show off here with a link to your blog or your socials. Maybe we can put you in touch with a like minded artist near you :)
Ok, see you tomorrow for the big finish!
~marc
2024 #30×30 Day 27: Redux
10×10″ Oil on Panel.
Ok – so I just painted today’s painting again. A Redux, as they say. Trying to focus on working fast, loading tools, and painting thick. Laughably thick. There’s three thick paintings on this one panel :)
I was going to fast to bother with a lot of cold wax. It’s an extra step in the mixing. Cold wax is just bee’s wax and and encapsulated solvent, and maybe some other stabilizers – so it does dry faster than out-of-the-tube paint.
This one is going to take a few months to set up :)
Still not my favorite of the series, but much happier with it!
2024 #30×30 Day 27 : The Wrong Painting
10×10″ Oil on Panel
Stepping back for a minute to discuss this objectively; this one is a miss-step in my series. It’s important to choose images / compositions that support my vision. It’s not just a matter of choosing a dramatic landscape and copying. The works in this series are best if they’re built of big slabs, a ‘map of the earth’ kind of feeling, where the ridges of paint are almost a scale model or sculpture, rather than a drawing.
I think yesterday was a similar mistake. If get tricked into drawing a reference photo, and not letting the mark-making happen by instinct – they become too pictorial. Too much of an illustration.
The bottom line is, this one looks fine at a distance but it doesn’t have the magic up close. Too many brush strokes, too much drawing, and not enough slabs of paint!
Ok! Back on track tomorrow!
2024 #30×30 Day 26
10×10″ Oil on Panel
2024 #30×30 Day 25
10×10″ oil on Panel
Make marks, scrap them off. Make marks, scrape them off. Piles of paint get larger, colors tend towards neutral. The painting grows a thicker skin.
Citizen Sketcher 