A flurry of preparation -- and routine's bonus

 Market Zinnias -- bright and gorgeous

iPad drawing

Barbara Muir © 2013

This place has resembled a test kitchen in the past
few days.  It started last week with the delicious
organic peaches at the market, and a passion to
conserve one of our favorite tastes.

You can't really do it.  Nothing can ever reproduce
the taste of a fresh picked peach.  Nothing.  But
freezing them with nothing in the freezer bag except
fresh peaches --  lets you get almost the same
flavour in the dead of winter. And Steven's canned
peaches in tall lovely jars, will be a mid-winter treat.

Steven's beautiful canned peaches

Barbara Muir © 2013

My friend is going back to school as a full time
teacher, and I am a very part time teacher, but order
is the watchword of the day.  And I like that Robert
Genn talked about how everything in an artist's life
that isn't about art needs to be orderly in his August
27 post Decisions, decisions.

The routine of a little part-time work, insists on an
order that permeates all of life in a good way.  And
this is good for me as an artist.  I have to get my act
in gear for everything except the act of creating, and
the order in the rest of life helps that.  So I'm going to
go and do some laundry and then paint my delicious
peaches.

Have a getting-life-in-order day

Pumped and ready for the new season, but sad to say goodbye to summer

Portrait detail (work in progress)

Acrylic on canvas

Barbara Muir © 2013

The light knows it, the birds know it, okay the morning
glories aren't especially on target, but summer's coming
to a close.  It's been such a great one.  I am still working
on my big portrait, so I thought I'd share some photos tonight.
I'm also showing you one more little face in progress.
What a cutie. Full of life and giggles.  

Morning Glories just hitting their stride

Barbara Muir © 2013

In the middle of the hot days, as well as painting I have
been to the market and I'm freezing peaches.  And Steven
got passionate about canning, and bought all the equipment,
so we'll have our choice.  He may be moving on to
tomato sauce which used to be almost a festival with
our former next door neighbours.  The whole family would work
over a propane heater in the garage.  The cans of
tomato sauce for pasta would go into a big metal barrel.
My neighbour would supervise, but her husband, two sons
and her daughter, plus their mates were all in on it.  I
absolutely loved the look of this activity and the smell
was delicious.  So far Steven's work has been an inside
job.

Sunset in our local park

Barbara Muir © 2013

It's so hot in Toronto, and has been mixed weather today.
When it rains Steven says it's hot and mouldy.  That's not
entirely untrue.  This summer's weather -- heavy rain, then
long dry spells and high heat have been hard on the trees for sure,
and we're afraid we may lose our beloved cherry tree.

But what a wonderful summer it's been -- I've worked
all the way through painting like crazy.  Enough from me.
Here are some pics.

The summer started with weddings -- Lucy and Dan's

Steven van Schaik © 2013 

and then Alannah and Erik's wedding

Steven van Schaik © 2013 

Then it rocketed along through our lots of work, our
anniversary, Christopher's birthday and our trip to
Nova Scotia. Stopping in beautiful Quebec City
on the way.

 Quebec City in July

Barbara Muir © 2013 

A classic Nova Scotia farm house 

photographed in passing.

Barbara Muir © 2013

Roses in Annapolis Royal

Incredibly beautiful

Barbara Muir © 2013

I hope to do some paintings based on that trip.

More photos another day.

Have a great end to the weekend.

What's the opposite of a cold?

 

 Portrait detail (work in progress)

Acrylic on canvas

Barbara Muir © 2013

I came up with the answer this summer.  A hot. Think
of a cold.  When you have one you're sick, you have
no energy.  Every now and then this summer I've had
the opposite -- a condition I'd like to encourage -- a highly
creative work day, good in every way. A day when I knew
 just what to do.  I was on fire with ideas, sent brilliant emails,
painted effortlessly, gave great advice, was helpful and
kind and the most brilliant I can be -- in other words had
 a dream day.

What's Your Perfect Day? -- Here's Mine
For me an exquisitely productive day is an ideal day.
 Add the ocean, or a few trips out to the garden,
some funny phone calls with friends and family.
Fantastic.  On the weekend sleeping in, reading,
seeing a movie might join the roster.  Lately
Steven and I have been trying to stick to the ritual
of walking the dog in the evening. No matter how
demanding the workday has been this adds to the picture
 of a perfect day.

Here's another face in the painting I'm working on.
I love the girl's face and I think she's great. If she were
here we'd be talking about her dress. It was pink, but
pink doesn't work in the painting -- so we'll work it out.
Plus her hair is wonderful.  Meanwhile:

Have an- optimally-creative day.

Talk to your paintings

 

Detail Untitled (Work in progress)

This is one face in a work I'm painting now.

Acrylic on canvas

Barbara Muir © 2013

(I am not finished this face.  We have had several

real life conversations lately.  And soon (probably

tomorrow) I'll be talking to the painting too.

I am lucky to work painting people I get to know and
care about.  Perhaps my background as a journalist,
and as a psychology teacher, helps me get to
know my subjects quickly.  But sometimes all
I have is a photograph, and I haven't met the people
at all.

Then what I go on is the stories their friends or family
who've commissioned the painting tell me.  But here's
a quirky fact you may not know about portrait painters,
or at least about this portrait painter.  That image
in the painting is real to us.  Painting you, or your
family is a thrill because you come to life on the
canvas, not matter how creatively or abstractly
we paint you.  And for me I know I am getting there
with a portrait when I start talking to it, saying
goodbye to it when I leave the room.  I even start
telling the painting how I should fix this or that,
and don't worry I'll do it.

Yes.  I should get out more.  But I'm a painter,
we need to stay in more.

Have a talking-to-your-work day.

Market Day and George's charcoal

 Market Flowers (work in progress)

Acrylic on canvas

8 x 8 inches

Barbara Muir © 2013

The Brick Works market where we went today is
at one of its best times ever, the last week of August
with every crop coming into ripe perfection.  The
season is a bit late this year, because of the cold, wet
spring.  But it's happening.  Today has been a feast of
summer bounty -- delicious ripe organic peaches, wonderful
new potatoes, tomatoes coming in from local organic
 gardeners.

And to top it all off Pegann's gorgeous flowers.  I asked
for a bouquet of Zinnias, and I'm getting ready to paint
them fast because they are not a flower that lasts.  Here's
a painting I started of last week's bouquet.  What
spectacular beauties, offset and highlighted by white
gladioli.  I still have work to do on it, but am busy with
some big paintings now, and don't have a lot of time.

I think of George Shane, my artist friend who died earlier
this year a lot when I go to the market, partially because
our art group used to have its home there before the
environmental group that runs the place raised the rent
sky high.  And partially because the last time I saw George
walking was while we still had that beautiful studio
at the Brick Works.  At his memorial in our new home at
the Forest Hill Library we were asked to take any
art supplies that had meaning for us, and I took a
package of George's charcoal, because he was always
loaning sticks of charcoal to me. I drew the drawing
at the start of this painting with George's charcoal.

Tip: I kept my Zinnias going all week last week
with a couple of teaspoons of sugar, and some
were still good enough to use in a fresh bouquet .

Have a painting-summer's-bounty day.

Getting it right -- my latest portrait

 Summer Sisters

Acrylic on canvas

24 x 36 inches

Barbara Muir © 2013

SOLD ♥ 

Hi Everyone,
As promised here is the whole picture.  Here's the
story behind the painting.  I worked from an
image I took myself.  When I can do this, it's ideal,
because while I'm painting I can picture the moment
 so vividly.

There I was with these three beautiful sisters --
absolutely dazzled by their talents and opinions.
I was talking to them and learning about their lives.
They are all funny, and like most siblings like to
tease one another.  And all of a sudden when I
asked them if I could take their photo now, after
a series of very straight up and down formal poses,
they got so excited about the summer stretching ahead
of them.  (I think it was the last day of school), that they
fell together like this, and I got the perfect reference
for my portrait. Looking at my photos later I thought --
yes -- this one gets it -- this perfect time in their lives.

My thanks to my wonderful client, to the girls big time
for their patience with me (it took two visits to get
exactly the right image, and I used all of my photos
for reference as I worked), to my family, my artist friends,
and my friends for their support and belief in me.  I am
very proud of this painting.  And that is a great way to
be! Oh and thanks to Pam and John Vincett.  The
view from their dock was the inspiration for the background.
I knew my client loved her cottage, and she said this
was almost like the view there, although she had no
idea until she saw the painting that I was including this
background.

Have a being-proud-of-what-you-do day.

The last girl in the mix, and the awesome moon

Portrait detail (Title to be announced)

Acrylic on canvas

Barbara Muir © 2013

Tomorrow is the big reveal.  The full picture. Photographing
it tonight is tense.  For one thing, I can't seem to get the
colour to behave and come out properly. Plus I know
the painting wants to go home, but I like these girls so much,
I feel like a parent having trouble letting go.

So here's the girl at the right of the picture, when you're
looking at it head on.  She is a beauty and talented like
the other two girls.  What a trio. I admire their parents.
They've given these girls all the love they could ever
ask for, and a joyous life as a family.

Tonight on our evening walk the moon as we went by
the park was a deep pink coming through a haze of
mauve. Hot night air slowed our pace, and the sound
of cicadas livened up the mood like a massive band playing
thousands of the same instruments.  I love that sound -- it
percolates through everything and means it's really
summer.  On the way back a giant, glowing, peach
moon sat just above the tree line and we frantically
tried to photograph it with my phone. Useless.

I better try and capture this entire painting again.

Have a finishing-up-your-work-day.