Visiting the Ab Ex -- colour excitement

At the art show (work in progress)
Acrylic on canvas

24  x 24 inches

Barbara Muir © 2011

(a few more tweaks and

it will be done.)

I'm almost finished this painting of the mother and daughter.
There are a few small details to finish up, but I am very happy
with how it's coming along.  I started this before I went to
see a superb exhibition at the Art Gallery of Ontario our
major gallery in Toronto.  In fact I was tempted to do the
background in pure blocks of palette knife colour, because the
mother and daughter were at an art show, and that's what's in
the reference photo behind them. I'd actually
been thinking a lot about Róisín O'Farrel's work, because I
like the way she uses a palette knife. Then on Father's Day
a couple of weeks ago I took Steven to lunch at the AGO
and we went to see the Abstract Expressionism exhibit
 on loan from the MoMA in New York.  Of course it's the best of
the best of Abstract Expressionism, but my favorites were the
Clyfford Stills and the Rothkos.  The colour in Rothko's work
dazzled me more than I could have imagined.  There was an
entire room of his glorious large canvasses.

I came home with the paintings flashing across my thoughts,
inhabiting my dreams.  No I can't be an Abstract Expressionist,
but I'm sure I've learned a lot about colour from seeing Rothko's
work.  If you're in Toronto take in the exhibition and if you live in
New York, head to the MoMA after it comes back home.

 I love looking at art, especially yours, on the internet.  But nothing
can rival being in the presence of the real thing.

Have an getting out to an art show day

Missing you too much

 Under the strange light

Black marker on bond paper

12 x 14 inches

Barbara Muir © 2011
(The light is the triangle
shape above Larry's head --
it seems to have a shade
shaped somewhat randomly (but
very artfully) from white plastic
and glows very brightly in the photo).

Lately I've been working on big projects.  Plus
it's summer, and the garden and people celebrating
seem to intervene with blogging.  But I miss you
when I don't write here.  Isn't that a strange
phenomenon built out of our brand new world --
missing people you may never have met?  So I
do.  And I miss all of you who I have met too.

Out of missing my friend Flora in Nova Scotia,
came this quick Skype sketch of Flora and Larry
from some pictures I took during a Skype call over
a year ago.  It's strange how creating an image
can make me feel connected, but it does.  I've
drawn Flora's face so many times that it's almost
like shorthand.  But there the two of them are,
so far away, yet showing up in my sketch book -- again.
Painting is like that too, only better in some ways.
When a portrait is right, I start talking to it.  The
moment I look the person in the painting in the eye
and begin to chat about life to her/him, we are nearing
the end of the painting process.  If he or she stayed on
the wall in my house, we might continue to have
brief chats from time to time, when I passed by
the painting.

As it is, I pop into the studio, look at the painting,
and say, "You're coming along, you're probably going
home soon, don't worry, everything will be fine," then
I add a highlight along the nose.

So I hope all is well with all of you.  And to Flora and
Larry: take it easy and thanks for posing for me today.

Have an enjoying-the-photos-of-people-you-love day.

Happy Anniversary and the painting progresses

At the art show (detail) Work in progress

Acrylic on canvas

24 x 24 inches

Barbara Muir © 2011

Today was our wedding anniversary.  We are hopeless
romantics even though we've been together a long time,
but decided to keep it simple today -- with flowers (the
flowers we buy one another every weekend), cards,
a quick bite at home and then a very funny movie tonight --
Bridesmaids -- exactly our cup of tea.  Afterwards we
drove by the house I was living in when we fell in love,
and then toasted one another with champagne on the back
porch and felt quite giddy with happiness.

One of many bad photos we took of ourselves in

Montreal a couple of weeks ago, trying to get

ourselves under the Narcisse sign (French for

Narcissus). Well we look at least as silly as this

tonight.

Tonight I'm showing you the portrait of the mother
and daughter -- still a work in progress.  I am working
on commissions that have to remain unseen for a little
while yet.  Then all will be revealed.  It's been a lovely
evening, and we've decided to make it a weekend of
celebration -- so if no more paint graces these
pages, you'll understand.

Have a falling-in-love-again day.

In the studio, and studious cats

 At the art show (detail) Work in Progress

Acrylic on canvas

24 x 24 inches

Barbara Muir © 2011

I'm working on a double portrait right now of an artist
and her daughter from a photo I took last spring.  The
mother is a lovely woman and I was moved by the
love between the two when I took the photo, and
wanted to paint the mother from the first time I met
her.

The painting At the art show on the easel in the studio

Tonight I'm showing you a close up of the mother's
face so far, and a picture of the whole painting on the
easel as a progress shot.

Timbah and Fiona in the window.

The studious cats are my own Timbah (on the left) and Fiona
(who I call Fon in the video) -- the bird on the roof
has their complete attention and they are not pleased
that it's there.  The two cats rarely sit so close together,
although they sleep side by side at night.  Please excuse
my cat voice.  Fiona (the Siamese) likes to be talked to
in a meowing high pitched voice.

I have just learned how to upload videos and although
I haven't figured out how to edit them, I'm
very happy and beholden to Caitlin who taught me how.

Have a loving-your-cats day.

The cure for a broken heart -- Hockey blues

 Sean's Garden #2 (work in progress)

Acrylic on canvas

12 x 12 inches

Barbara Muir © 2011
(This one is almost done, I added some
sunlight, and may work a bit more on
definition. Sean's Mom bought the
smaller one, and I told Sean I'd
work on a larger one from a
different view.)

Canada is hockey crazy -- you have to know that
about us.  I am not a sports freak (please forgive me),
but it's hard not to notice that the rest of Canada is.
Tonight was going to be Vancouver's big night --
Stanley Cup fever was rampant, and the Canucks
lost to Boston.  It looked like fans in Vancouver were
going crazy, overturning cars, lighting fires.  But now
people think it wasn't hockey fans, but a few drunk
teenagers.  Still people were depressed.

So here's the cure Canada -- leave the insane crowds,
go home and take a walk with your dog.  Even I got a
bit excited today. I was afraid to watch the game, and
Steven had to turn it off when Vancouver was losing.

But let's get back to painting.  Sometimes a painting
doesn't work, or doesn't work right away -- and the cure
is exactly the same.  Take a walk.  If you've got
a dog who loves to walk so much the better.  You
can look like a nutter walking along the street
talking to your dog, but who can understand your
problems with colour and composition better than
your walking companion.  And when you get to
the really sad part, the dog will take a refreshing
bathroom break. (Don't tell me that's not social
commentary -- after the 15th pee break, you know
there's a message there somewhere.)

I thought of this the other day.  My painting is actually
going well, and I'm in great spirits.  I've been lucky
only to have conversations with people who are
cheerful, kind, funny and supportive.  I feel
genuinely blessed.  But I know that when I don't,
when I'm feeling like Vancouver must feel tonight,
a walk under the lovely silver moon, passing by glorious
peonies wafting out their subtle perfume, seeing the
pattern of trees against a deep blue sky, the big dipper
in pepper spot stars.  It lifts your spirits.  So for
one last time Go Canucks Go!  For a walk.  There's
always next year. 

Have a going-out-to-smell-the-flowers day.

I'm walking on sunshine

 Pam in New York

36 x 48 inches

Acrylic on canvas

Barbara Muir © 2011

(One year ago today I finished this painting. 

Thinking about the work I'm planning to start

tomorrow -- this painting, which I haven't seen since

it went home to Chelsea, Québec, is on my mind. I was

very happy with the final result -- a beautiful painting

of a truly gorgeous and talented woman.)

There is a thunder storm happening right now and
I only realized it was happening because my dog
started shivering and shaking.  Earlier I was dancing
in the kitchen with the cat to the song "I'm walking
on sunshine" by Katrina and the Waves.  She likes that
quite a bit, but protests in her talkative Siamese way. 
So I put her down and she stands at my feet while I continue
to dance for a minute, and then I swoop her up to hang over my
shoulder again and the whole dance starts over.  (Too
bad Pam, the dancer in the painting couldn't have been
here to improve our steps.)

The truth about Fiona the cat is that she loves music, dancing
to it, listening to it, and on the piano and keyboard in
my son's room, playing it.  So does my other cat Timbah.
He loves being held while we dance -- fast or slow -- it
doesn't matter.  I often think we underestimate the
intelligence and understanding of animals.  Zoey the dog
just proved it -- because she's right it is thundering,
but our house is so brightly coloured inside that all
I do on gloomy days is turn on the lights.  She's right
though.  It's thundering and my neighbour's deck is
soaking wet.  Whenever this happens Steven and I
joke with one another and say, "I watered the garden,
you don't have to water."

Later:  The rain dried up, the dog and I went for
a walk.  And at the end of the walk as we went up
the hill in the park we were graced with a spectacular
sunset.  We were "walking on sunshine."

Have an enjoying-the-animals-in-your-life day.

Dancing in the park, and the antique market

 John Hinrichs

Quick sketch in the St. Lawrence 

Antique Market Coffee Shop

Black marker on Moleskine paper

5 1/2 x 9 inches

Barbara Muir © 2011

It's been a lovely weekend.  The weather
has been my ideal -- slightly cool, but warm
enough with a light sweater.  Yesterday we
bought flowers for our front door pots, and
for the pots on our back porch.  Then we
walked our dog in the park nearby.  The path
meanders past bullrushes, forget-me-nots and
wild yellow Iris.  Steven took some pictures
with his cell phone of the Iris, that he'll give to me
tomorrow. Then towards the end of the walk there's a lovely
open part of the path, with huge trees forming a
canopy and a view through the trees of some
magnificent, large and lovely old homes.

One of these was holding a party it seems, because
fabulous music was playing loud through the woods,
and Steven and I danced to a couple of the numbers,
surprising ourselves and our dog Zoey.
There we were essentially alone under the trees
dancing while Zoey looked on in pure confusion
never having seen such behaviour.

Wild Irises in the park

Photo by Steven van Schaik

Today we met our friend John Hinrichs at the Antique
Market in the St. Lawrence market and walked around
enjoying the endless array of china, glass, silver
and fabric on display.  My friend Jan Marriott has
a table there, and if you're in Toronto, you should
check out her excellent vintage fabric.

I did a quick sketch of John to share with you here
while we were grabbing a coffee.  John is an
astoundingly good architect.  And John is incredibly
funny -- a distinct pleasure.

Have an enjoying-your-friends-company day.