Who is on your cheerleader team?

Summer shadow blues

Acrylic on canvas
16 x 20 inches
Barbara Muir © 2010
(Remember I said I had an idea for what
to do with this one. This is it. I still
have to add some shadow to the figure,
but I like the combination of figurative
and abstract.)

Is this an idle question -- I don't think so. I hope the
first person on your team of supporters is you, because
without belief in what you do you can't keep going.
But how about your friends? In the art world
there are people who are supportive, detractors,
and those who just don't care. But this job requires
a lot of nerve. After all many people won't understand
either what you're creating, or why you're creating it.
Some fierce little person inside has to keep going
through snide remarks, lack of appreciation, and
outright put downs. But that person (you/me) also
has to learn to move away from the detractors, and
seek out a great cheering team. I don't mean that
you force people into a corner and say "hey -- tell me
I'm good!" I mean you seek out people who like what
you do, and who like you, and those friends,
acquaintances, and as the circle grows, total strangers,
are your positive back up.

Now Alyson Stanfield, who writes the artbizblog,
I can imagine might say there's another group. Those are
converts. The reason you can't rule out people who
outright dislike your work altogether is twofold.
Tastes change -- the tastes of your audience -- and you
change -- your work evolves and goes in different
directions. One day you'll be at a show
of your work, and see a former critic approaching
you beaming. Are you going to turn away because
that person didn't used to "get" your work. No.
You're going to beam back, and possibly have a
convert, even a collector now on your team.

A final idea. Don't let detractors stop you. Not if
you believe in yourself. I heard the other day about
a wonderful writer who didn't write for 20 years
because of a cruel remark. What a shame. Twenty
lost years. See what I mean? Take the cruel remark
to your closest supporters, and they'll help you
let it go and move on.

Have a cheering-on-the-people-you-believe-in day.
P.S. Thank you to my team of supporters. I rarely
hear any cruel remarks anymore. And if I do I
either weigh the remark's validity, or I discount it,
or I head right to my friends for a talk it, and drop
it discussion.

Short takes

Fresh from Heather's Garden

Acrylic on canvas

12 x 12 inches

Barbara Muir © 2010

(Still a work in progress. There

are finishing touches some

colour decisions to finish.)

What? I have artists friends who literally sit or stand
for hours in front of a canvas with no breaks. They
are not me. I have never actually been diagnosed with
ADHD, but if a painting has a problem -- or feels
difficult I certainly manifest most of the signs of
Attention Deficit Disorder. My answer? Small
takes.

We all know we're supposed to stand back. 'Stand back!'
say the experts and our knowledgeable friends. But
I say go away. That's right -- if you are at a loss --
get out of the room. That doesn't mean you pack up,
and decide to quit. It means you go and do something
else. Water the lawn, make a phone call, write an email,
and then come back. Make a comforting tea or coffee,
if you're not on a diet eat something like a cookie,
and look at the painting again. Aha! you say. I could
...(soft little voice in your head telling you maybe if you
just put some paint in this place it would be almost easy)...
and you do! And it works, so you keep going and then
doubt, worry, distraction hits again.

Break time.

Little by little, no matter how *distractable you are, and
believe me it doesn't take much. Something gets done.
In fact a perfectly reasonable facsimile for a work of art
gets done, and done well. And if you continue this practice
a whole lot of it eventually seems to happen. But it didn't
just happen. You did it! Hurray for you, and hurray for
me. Now about that cup of tea, and maybe five minutes
with my novel. It's a scary one so I'll get back to work
quickly. Promise.

Have a getting-right-out-of-the-room day.
*

It's not about the studio

I set up an impromptu studio in the kitchen
this evening while Steven made dinner to work on painting
the beautiful flowers Heather brought me on Saturday,
before they lose their lustre.

I've learned a lot in the past few years by
reading blogs from artists around the world,
and it seems that what matters is keeping going.
I remember having a painting teacher -- slightly
arrogant -- not quite right for the adult me, but
right in one bit of advice. He said as soon as you
paint 52 paintings a year you'll see your paintings
improve.

Here's the gorgeous garden bouquet in situ.
My family kindly decided to eat out in the heat on the
back porch so it could continue to
occupy Sam's place at the table.

I used to think that number was overwhelming.
Enter the daily painters. I can't manage to paint
every single day of the year, and no longer even
think that's a good idea. It seems a little manic,
and may make hanging out with friends and family,
seeing concerts, visiting galleries and even travelling
problematic. All of those pleasures matter big time
to me. But...the discipline of painting nearly every
day absolutely changes not only your paintings,
but your entire life! Add to that the absolute joy of
witnessing the work, and methods of painters in
every part of the planet -- and that joy multiplies
exponentially.

I recently saw an art magazine with pictures of
impressive studios of painters all over the world.
I'd love to have more space, better light, a stable
giant easel, lush carpets -- even assistants running
around sorting my paints, and making me coffee.
But in real life I've painted in the kitchen, on the
back porch, and for the most part in my tiny, cramped,
not impressive, but cheerful studio. And I've been to many
artists' houses with spectacular studios, designed
especially for them -- the whole top of a house with
skylights, or a building on their property built
especially for the artist with special built in paint trays,
and elegant lighting. Yet these people in proud possession
of magnificent work space didn't so much as draw in a
sketchbook. The studios couldn't make them create.

My sweet cat Timbah sat down on my chair
every time I got up to wash my brushes, or
change the water. He is an avid fan of my
work. And I am just his avid fan. (By
the way in Toronto we could use more
fans period. We're in an officially declared
heat wave.)

I don't have a number figure in my mind for how many
paintings make an artist -- after all Vermeer who so many
artists now revere, and even seek to replicate, created
very few paintings in his whole lifetime, but I do know
a beautiful studio won't make you an artist, but (almost)
daily practice, makes the entire job easier.

Have a loving-whatever-studio-you-work-in day.

Back to basics

August market flowers
(almost finished)
Acrylic on canvas
12 x 12 inches
Barbara Muir © 2010

For about five years when I started doing regular
art, I first drew, then painted flowers. I sold small
coloured pencil drawings of flowers when my oldest,
Christopher, was a baby, and moved on to paint
watercolours of flowers when Sam came along. I'm sure
I've told you before that Toronto, often referred to by
people who don't live here as the big smoke, is in fact
a flower Mecca. You can buy a lot of flowers here,
in fact fill your house, for a very reasonable sum.

Plus you know that Steven and I have to get our
fix of flowers every weekend from the shop we
love on Avenue Road. But last weekend I bought
fresh garden flowers from Pegann, and then my
friend Heather brought me a huge bouquet from
her garden. The result? Our house is paradise,
or at the very least a small floral tribute to that
ultimate Eden.

August market flowers
rough sketch
charcoal on canvas prepared with a peach acrylic ground
Barbara Muir © 2o10
(Before painting I sat staring at the
amazing bouquet sitting at my kitchen table
and drew it. The Victorian jug is huge, and
the bouquet must be 18 inches high, so I
was absolutely mesmerized by its beauty.
Major thanks to Pegann and hey it's true
Zinnias do last much longer with
maple syrup (tip it should be
Canadian) in the water. Nah, it can
be any kind of maple syrup.)

So...what could I do? I feel snow sneaking through
the back chambers of my imagination, and it seems
prudent to record summer's bounty. Now. Today's
offering is an almost finished painting of the market
flowers. A few more touches and she'll be done.

Have a giving-or-getting-or-painting-flowers day.

Thanks for your help everyone

I was so delighted to be showing at the Amsterdam
Whitney Gallery last May. To see me interviewed by
Kristal Hart of MNN click here.

I am influenced by everything around me and
everything I see. The critical question with
these paintings was how to narrow my choices
down? My first impulse was to honour
water and the pleasure I've been lucky enough to
enjoy my whole life spending summers near water --
first as a child at the cottage on Lake Mazinaw that
my parents rented every summer,
then as an adult with my family in Nova Scotia.

Last week my sister was asking me what
I love about being near the ocean in the summer,
and I appreciate so many things that I could hardly
answer her. I love the sound -- nothing else sounds like ocean
waves. I love the look of the light on the wide water.
I love walking along a deserted beach, or seeing children
building sand castles, and dogs playing in the surf.

I'm not finished with this Water Image series.
Eventually I hope to paint enough work to go all
the way around a gallery space. And each painting
will be unique, as each person has their own ideal
ocean setting, and I'll paint each subject in that setting.

Have a treasuring-the-summer-place-you-love day.

Charcoal, errands and the happy list

Lending her hands
Charcoal on bond paper
8 1/2 x 11 inches
Barbara Muir © 2010

Arghhh! (Sound of brief frustration). Okay I'm over it now.
I'd written my blog, and tried to do one other thing.
Pouf! Blog disappeared. But in true cheerful artist
style, here I go again.

Saturday for this household, as it no doubt is for yours
is a day of running around doing errands. True
I like to drink coffee and read the paper. But
today especially an absolutely perfect summer
day beckoned. 'Get out there!' screamed the blue
sky, puffy little clouds, waving leafy trees.

Check. I made it to the market with six minutes to
spare, and got fabulous peaches, field tomatoes,
baked goods from Alyson, and an breathtaking garden
bouquet from Pegann (pronounced like Megan).
Then I hurried home to have tea with a friend
at 2. After my favorite kind of conversation --
all about travel to Europe, Zoey (the dog) and
I walked my friend home. She'd arrived with
masses of flowers from her garden, and my mood
went sky high. Beautiful day, wonderful friends,
flowers everywhere.

I headed to the art store to get charcoal -- and
that explains tonight's medium. But not the
subject. Searching through my photos I found
an odd shot of my friend, Josephine, then
remembered. Struck by my frustration over
the reference for a painting I was working on, she
volunteered her hands as reference. In fact
she was trying to show me the hands of two
people. Impossible of course, but the photo
of her earnest effort touched me. I am so
blessed both with friends who want to help
me get on with the art, and with clients who
want to buy it. I conclude it's a great day.

The Happy List?

Start with 10 things, and work your way up.
Take today for instance. Always start with
"I'm happy because..." and repeat that
for every point.

1. I'm happy because it was sunny.
2. I'm happy because I bought delicious peaches.
3. I'm happy because I can make fresh
tomato and basil pasta tomorrow (one of my favorites.)
4. I'm happy because I read about a touching
book about friendship in the paper today, and
I plan to buy the book.
5. I'm happy because my friend brought me
hydrangeas and Japanese anemones. Gorgeous.
6. I'm happy because I blocked in a large portrait
yesterday (can't show you yet.)
7. I'm happy because I can hear Sam practicing
drama monologues down the hall.
8. I'm happy because I walked in the park at dusk
with Zoey and we saw the stars come out.
9. I'm happy because Fiona (the cat) is healing.
10. I'm happy because I know all of you, and if
I haven't commented lately, I know I'll catch up.
And I'm so delighted to know you and see the
amazing work you're doing.

Have a knowing-what-makes-you-happy day.

A great painting day

A Danish painter in Norway
Stages 4 - 6
Acrylic on canvas
30 x 30 inches
Barbara Muir © 2010

I am a firm believer in lists, but some days I
forget to make them. Not a good plan. Today
I decided I must have a list. But it was a busy
day. So dashing to the Art Gallery of Ontario
I decided I'd make my list over a cup of tea in the
beautiful Member's lounge.

Thank goodness I did because I worked on
several paintings when I got home, and even
got some time to work on my painting of Henriette.
That made me ridiculously happy. So did staring at
an amazing portrait by Fred Varley at the A.G.O.
He's one of the true Canadian painting greats. I hope
you had a productive day too.

Have a super-creative-joyous-loving-laughing day.