There are too many damn people in this city! And they are always in your face.

As I was getting off the subway at my stop, I accidentally knocked into a woman who started yelling that I didn’t have to push her, she was getting off too.   I was not in a good mood that evening (like THAT’S a surprise) so I said something back.  Nothing clever.  We had words and went on our way.  I always think of the really clever stuff  HOURS later.  I hate that.  She could have at least given me her phone number so that when I came up with a clever retort I could have called her and we could have continued our witty subway banter.

Subway woman: Don’t push me I’m getting off at this stop too.

Carol: Push you, I wouldn’t touch you, you cootie laden dirty skank!

How’s THAT for witty subway banter?   It was probably best that I didn’t think of that.  Or the next conversation would have been:

Carol: Matt, I’m at the police station in handcuffs.  Can you come and get me?

Matt: Who is this?

I wasn’t sure what to write about today and when I showed this painting to Judy she told me she liked it but it made her feel claustrophobic.  We are claustrophobia friends.  Neither one of us like feeling closed in and we always like being in the “go position.”  (That means that we like to be near an exit, not near a bathroom.  Although at our age, being near a bathroom is good too.)

So here you go.  A painting of  buildings on top of buildings.  These buildings are in Soho.   They are a bit wonky, but then again, so am I.

I decided to try another cityscape after doing one in my drawing on the right side of the brain class.   I did not do this one plein air.  I did it sitting on my butt. From a reference photo. I did not want to use a ruler.  I didn’t want it to look like a stiff architectural drawing.  I was hoping to give the  buildings some personality.  I may have just made them look like they are drunk.  Maybe I should be drunk.

*wanders off to get a cocktail*

Here is another picture of my 100 lb barfing dog.  Her name is Kaiya and she’s 4 1/2 years old.  She hates the car.  What dog hates the car? Apparently this dog hates the car.   I took this picture of her after we drove up to Putnam County. She had already barfed in the car.  Twice.

I am excited to say that my crab apple painting got into the Putnam County Arts Council Juried Show.

http://www.putnamartscouncil.com/PACGallery.htm#FineArtsShow

Lest you forgot, here’s the picture again. This time framed and hanging in the gallery.  (Not the greatest picture as I took it with my phone.)

Still don’t remember?  Here it is unframed, but finished:

If you’re in Putnam County, please stop by and see the show.  My sister has a piece in it too.   A lovely handmade book.  It’s made out of old library cards. She made paper from the shredded cards and then made a book out of the paper.  The cover is made from actual library cards.  How cool is that?  It’s called “Pulp from Fiction” and here it is:

Last week the husband and I had to go to New Jersey.   The “Garden State.”  Should be called “the Jug Handle State.”  Or the “No Left Turn” state.  Or “whatever plans you had on getting somewhere I’m gonna get you supremely lost” state.   Or… oh, you get the idea.

There is never a time where we don’t get lost in New Jersey.  One time I got lost in the parking lot of the mall across the road from my brother’s house.  I had to call him for help.  New Jersey really mocked me that day!

I don’t get lost that often.  Plus, I have a GPS system in my car.  Her name is Svetlana.  She talks to me and nicely tells me tells me that I have strayed from her carefully crafted route.  Her favorite word is “recalculating.” She always gets me back to where I want to be.  Except when in New Jersey.  The “evil state.”

I do not like to leave the City.  Being on the other side of the Hudson makes me nervous.  (Well everything makes me nervous, but that’s another post.)  And it never fails.  The moment we get through the tunnel or over the bridge and land in NJ we get lost.  What is up with that?

I don’t think anyone will ever figure out what is up with that.  It is, as my sister-in-law always tells me, what it is.   New Jersey, the “you can’t get there from here” state.

In my penultimate Wednesday watercolor class we painted trees.  We spattered trees, painted wet-on-wet trees, drybrushed trees.  We wet the paper with clear water in a “tree” design and then added some paint and lifted the paper and let the paint roll around the wet areas.   Since it’s Autum in New York, everyone is into the trees which are turning beautitful fall colors…red, yellow, gold.  I love seeing the autum trees.  But not in New Jersey.

This is not my self-portrait.

I forgot to tell you about the class involving negative spaces.  Then I will show you my self-portrait.  By drawing the space around the object, you get the object.  While I understood the concept, I found this difficult to do.  I kept wanting to draw the stool instead of the negative spaces.  However, it was another interesting lesson and now I can’t stop seeing negative spaces .

As long as I don’t see dead people.

Here’s a bit more about the drawing class.   After we drew Igor Stravinsky upside down and then drew our hand, we went on to perspective.  After a lecture and a demo, we all split up to find a corner to do a perspective drawing.

Since I’m having hot flashes lately (I KNOW!  What’s up with that????) and it was a nice day I decided to go upstairs onto the roof to do my perspective drawing joined by one other classmate.  We had an interesting view, looking through some broken lattice at roof tops.  So, in addition to doing my first “perspective” drawing, I was also doing it plein air.  (So there WRJones.)

The light changed so many times it was making me crazy.  One time when the teacher came up to check on us, we complained about the light.  He laughed and said that’s what made the Impressionists go insane.

Unfortunately, the above photo is not the best quality.  I was on a roof deck, looking through some woodwork with the lattice-work below and some bamboo on the right side.  Through this I could see some roof structures and then more buildings.  I really enjoyed doing this drawing.

The following day the instructor talked about portraits, did a demo and then it was our turn.  YIKES.  After the obligatory apologies to our “models” off we went.  My model was Brian (not the teacher Brian).   And here he is with help from the teacher.

I needed help, but did a lot of it myself.  First of all, WHO KNEW the ear was SO FAR AWAY from the facial features.  And the back of the head???? Miles away.   The photo is a little blurry.  Sorry.  It’s probably for the best.

Next post will be my “final” which was a self-portrait.   I am giving you time to laugh now.

On another note, I have decided I am old.  How do I know this?

1.  I no longer know who the “people” are who are featured in People Magazine.

2.  If I see Jon and Kate on TV one more time my head will explode.  That will NOT make an attractive self portrait the next time I give it a try.  (I never even knew who they were before they split.)

3.  Does anyone care that David Letterman had an affair?  Or affairs?  My only reaction was REALLY?   Women actually agreed to sleep with him?

Wow.

I am in awe of people who have innate drawing ability.  I am not one of those people.  Drawing for me is hard work.  I have not taken a drawing class since the 70’s.  And like most everything else about the 70’s, whatever I learned I have forgotten.

I have just completed a 5 day drawing workshop based on the book Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain, by Betty Edwards.   The workshop poses the question, what if you listened to the RIGHT side of your brain instead of your left side when you wanted to draw something?  The left side is the analytical, language based side, the right side is the creative side.  You are then  shown how to access the right part of your brain without all that messy brain surgery.

Now you may find this hard to believe, but both sides of my brain would NOT SHUT UP.  I finally got the left side to quiet down a bit.

Each day started with a lecture, a drawing demonstration by the instructor who just happens to be Betty Edwards’ son Brian.   He taught the workshop in his Soho, NYC (not London) loft.

One of the first exercises we did was to take a copy of a drawing that Picasso did of Igor Stravinsky, turn it upside down and then copy it onto our drawing pads.   Here is my version:

By turning the drawing upside down, all we could really see were lines, not hands or feet or noses or eyes.  By not being able to “name” the parts of the body or the chair or the glasses, the left side of the brain gives up and hands the assignment over to the right side of the brain.  Amazingly all of our drawings, though slightly different from each other and from the original, all resembled the original enough that there was no mistaking that each drawing was a copy of the Picasso.  We were all amazed.

Another drawing exercise was placing our hand on a piece of plexiglass, copying it onto the glass and then drawing our hand from the  image on the glass.  (We could also look at our hands.)

Apparently the point of that was to use the right side of our brain to see a flattened 2 dimensional image on a picture plane, not a 3 dimensional hand which would then confuse the brain.  (My brain is always confused.)

The class was 7 people, most of whom I liked and one person I wanted to bludgeon to death.

3 more days to tell about.  But I don’t want to bore you all at once.

It was hard work, but very rewarding.

There are stormy skies up ahead!

My brother is one of my favorite people in the world.  He is funny.  He is smart.  He is clever.  He is good looking.  He will NOT, I repeat, NOT read my blog.

On a recent family trip to Florida for the funeral of a favorite uncle,  I happened to ask my brother why he never reads my blog.   His response was:  He doesn’t read blogs.  He has two little boys. He is tired.  He works long hours.  He has to change diapers.  He can’t read a blog on any day that ends with a “Y”.   He has no time to go on the computer.  (That one is debatable.) On and on and on.   I could NOT get him to give in and convince him to read my blog.  I hounded him for two hours in a car ride to Jupiter.  Florida, not the planet.    In Jupiter we met with the rest of the family for a service at the cemetery.   After it was over, we all stood around chatting and my favorite aunt came over to me.  Out of the clear blue she says “I’ve been meaning to tell you how much I enjoy your blog.”

WELL!  In a million years I could not have planned that more perfectly.

Since he won’t read my blog, I will just write about him. So there Robert! So there.

I haven’t finished this painting yet, but like how it’s going so far.  Clouds are harder to paint than I thought.

An artist and blogger Anya published a post about color palettes and color mixing.  Her  funny post was about some famous artists’ palettes.  So in the spirit of  “imitation is the sincerest form of flattery” I’ve come up with my own color palette.

While I believe my color palette would range from hostility to despair, liberally peppered with fatigue and nausea, today’s palette was mostly about fatigue:

Carol’s palette:

• I’m tired Orange
• I’m exhausted Red
• I’m the Tiredest Person that Ever Lived Blue
• Wake me up Yellow
• Persnickety Pink
• Tengo sueño Sienna
• I woke up to go to bed Indigo
• Who doesn’t want a nap Violet
• Screw them Green
• Better share that chocolate burnt umber
• Don’t make me hurt you ultramarine blue

The above paintings were done in Wednesday’s class.  No masterpieces, just playing with the watercolor, learning how to handle it.  Some basic practice with making 3 dimensional shapes.  And then we painted some pears.   It was non-stop fun!

On a serious note, thank you to all of you who called or emailed or facebooked that you were thinking of Matt and me on 9/11.  Hopefully, someday we can all learn to live with our differences without killing each other.  I fear that day will never come, but I still have hope that it will.

Tonight’s dog walk consisted of the following conversation:  I mentioned that I was watching a show on HBO called “Youth Knows No Pain” which was a documentary of sorts about America’s use of wrinkle reducing “cosmetics” and cosmetic surgery.    Why are we so obsessed with the way we look?  Let me tell you, some of those people in the show were downright scary.  Nipped, tucked, botoxed!  They were one step away from Joan Rivers or that woman that wants to look like a cat. And don’t even get me started about that woman that has had a bazillion surgeries so she can look like Barbie.  SHE WANTS TO LOOK LIKE A TOY!   At some point one has to learn to age gracefully and accept those wrinkles as a sign that one has been lucky enough to live long enough to get those wrinkles in the first place!  And, if you’re lucky, some knowledge to go with them. As I ranted, Charlie was more concerned about the fact that now he can’t remember things sometimes.   I asked if he would consider getting any sort of plastic surgery.  HA!  He said  since he wasn’t that great looking when he was younger he didn’t care that much about it now.  He continued that had he looked like Brad Pitt when he was in his 20’s and Jackie Gleason when he was in his 30’s he’d be concerned.

Continuing on we noticed yet another new nail salon called “Classy” was going to open.  We knew it was going to be called “Classy” as it said “Classy” in neon lights  right in the window.  As I wondered what it said about our society that our neighborhoods have two nail salons on every block but can’t seem to have health care for all of its citizens,  Charlie was more concerned that if “classy” was in neon, how could it be classy?  Wasn’t that sort of an oxymoron?

We need more to do.

I completed this painting of my sister’s garages.  (Yep, that’s right, plural. Who’s better than her?)  I had more fun with colors with this painting.  And I think I’m painting a little looser which I like.

They (scientists) say NYC is a melting pot and Astoria in Queens, NYC is one of the most racially diverse areas in the world.

I was watching a show on the National Geographic Channel called The Human Family Tree.  Scientists working on the human genome project went to a street fair on 30th Ave. in Astoria and collected DNA swabs.  They wanted to get more information on how humans traveled out of Africa and then traveled all over the world.  And ended up in Queens.  Really?  All that traveling just to end up in Queens???   Nevertheless, it was a fascinating show and like Stephen Colbert, who doesn’t see color, we learn that there is really no race.  Just the human race.  I loved the program.  (Or programme for those of you who are a bit naff.)

I noticed that the narrator was Kevin Bacon.  Which led me to think… all of you who enjoy the game “6 degrees of Kevin Bacon”, this will now bring a whole new “degree” to the game.  After this show, Kevin Bacon can now be traced to EVERYONE IN THE WORLD!!!!!

Game over!

In class tonight we learned about color values and making grays and blacks from the colors in our palette.  And by NOT using either gray or black.  We then had to paint a monochromatic painting using a number of different values from the gray we just made.  My gray was made from Pthalo Blue and Burnt Umber.  I mixed the gray on my palette and only used that one color in my painting.  It was interesting to see that even though I only used the one gray, the brown seems to have warmed up the blue.  I loved this exercise and really enjoyed painting this.   Interestingly, the photo of the painting shows the brown in the blue, but in real life it pretty much looks all blue.   Wonder why?