Using Photos from Friends in Art
I’m fortunate to have very generous family and friends when it comes to artists’ visuals. My tribe sends me images to paint all the time. They might be walking along a street in New York, or eating croissants in a cafe in Provence, France, and voila! I get a text with images, or an email with attachments. The good little eggs in my life are so kind. A gaggle of people sending bits of color and shadow, or an angled street scene, or light curling around a sleeping cat. How lucky can a girl get? It’s pretty stinkin’ cool, and I sit here counting my blessings every time I look in my photo reference files, because they are filled with images snapped and shared by such sweeties. Who sends you photos to paint? (Here’s a post on storing your reference images by category, with links to supplies for that, if you’re working on getting organized.)
Links for your Perusal
Here are some creative inspiration links for your reading pleasure this week:
- Cas Holmes just published a book Textile Landscape: Painting with Cloth in Mixed Media. This post over at Textile Artist shows some of her inspiring “stitch-sketching” work, and features an interview about her working process.
- On the same excellent site, Louise Etheridge has written about ten solid ways to grab your creative mojo and tuck it back into your dashboard. I know quite a few artists who are suffering with creative block right now, or they’re seeing a trend towards a loss of inspiration. This article might help if you’ve found yourself wandering with that same squad.
- This is a double-goody: if you’re unfamiliar with the gorgeous work of Susan Lyon, visit her website here. She wrote about an amazing revelation that there exists a John Vanderpoel Museum in Chicago, curated and cared for by a couple who volunteer their time to watch over his masterworks! Do you have the unrivaled classic on figure drawing titled The Human Figure, by John Vanderpoel in your art reference library?
Out of the Fog
I’m rounding the corner after being sick for a few weeks, and it’s so good to be up and about. You have to be healthy to make art, and I’ve missed my art supplies with a vengeance. I dreamed – feverishly – of making and ruining painting after painting while I was sick, which was no fun at all. If you’ve been sick, or you suffer from chronic pain that stops you from focusing on the joy of art-making, I’m sending you a magic wand filled with mini-sessions of art-making respite. I wish you surprise moments of clear thinking, inspiration and strength to create even one tiny thing. Doodle. Zen drawing. Cross-hatching the folds of your blankets. Any petite output that reminds you to keep reaching for your art supplies, so the making will fill your well towards a better day.
Thanks for stopping by, and I’ll see you in the next post –
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Diego Rodriguez Velasquez de Silva was born in Seville in 1599. He belongs to that era so productive of genius, the era of Shakespeare, Cervantes, Montaigne, Kepler, Galileo, Tasso, Guido Reni, Rembrandt, Van Dyck, and Rubens. At thirteen we find him studying painting under Herrera; then for five years he studied under Pacheco, a man of learning but not a great master in art. He had a charming daughter, charming at least to the young Velasquez, for he married her. From teachers such as these, Velasquez absorbed all they had to give. In the house of Pacheco he met the artists, poets, scholars, and gentlemen of the city, and became conversant with the best of them in manners and culture. In 1623, when he was 24 , he was summoned by Olivarez, the all-powerful minister of Philip IV, requesting the young artist to come to Madrid. Attended by his mulatto slave, Jean Parejo – who himself became so expert a painter that some of his work has been attributed to his master – Velasquez journeyed to Madrid. In a friend’s house he lodged and there painted a portrait which was soon carried to the palace by the son of a chamberlain of one of the princes. An hour later the prince, the king, and the king’s brother had gathered about the portrait in admiration, and the future of Velasquez was assured. ~Sketches of Great Painters, by Edwin Watts Chubb 1915