Theme Eight: Large to small

LARGE to small


I began a painting this past summer, in oils (water soluble). The subject: Paradise Orchids, from a stationary card.

My eyes follow the curves and the shapes of the petals, the stems and the leaves, as I try to capture the image. My eyes refer from the card and back to the canvas; I continue this process until the entire image is stenciled in graphite. I take a deep breath, and release, layer one is finished. I roll my chair across the kitchen floor, and light a cigarette. I view the drawing from a distance, while I smoke and sip from a cold glass filled with spring water.
I roll back across the floor to the easel and dive in for layer two. With my palette in my lap, I squeeze out Winsor and Newton’s permanent rose red, and then some mixing white, each occupying a space of its own on the wooden wax papered palette. With the wooden, paint splattered handle wedged between my fingers, I knife into the red paint. I scoop it off the palette, and plop it onto the white. I knife the paint again and blend the two thick colors into each other, creating a lively pink. In accordance to the stationary, these orchids are more peachy-pink. So I squeeze out lemon yellow and add it to the mixture. I fold the paint into itself, over and over, until I am satisfied with the mixture. Meanwhile, The Requiem for a Dream soundtrack pounds from the living room speakers; but I do not hear it. I watch the knife as it bends, and shimmers in the light, the richness of the colors being reflected into my face, and the aroma of the oil fills my nostrils.
I plop the knife into the orange cup and select a clean flat brush. Dipping just the tip into the cup, and it moistens. I rub the tip of the brush along the peachy-pink mixture, blending the paint with the water; thinning it. I slide the brush gently and smoothly along the inside of each petal and conceal the bright whiteness of the canvas. This pink peachiness is the foundation layer of color. I dip the brush once more into the warm water. Then carefully, attentively paint the inner line of the curves and folds of the petals, until each is completed.
(I try to work evenly through out a painting.) I plop the brush into the cup, and prepare a shade of green. I reach for phthalo green (blue shade) and phthalo green (yellow shade). I squeeze out the blue shade, and then a greater potion for the yellow shade. (Blue is darker than yellow.) I pull the knife from its lukewarm bath and wipe it clean with my mother’s bathroom towel. I knife the shades together. With a thin brush, I paint the stems and the petals with its foundation layer of a vibrant green.
Referring back to the stationary, the background is black. I blend a mixture of cool colors using dioxazine purple, colbalt blue hue, purple red, and phthalo green. Then blend that mixture to a hint of black. So it will help bring out the other colors. I select a narrow brush and paint all the remaining white.
I roll back from the easel with peach, green and a mixture of black along my hand, fore arm and elbow. I wipe it on the red apron my grandmother made for me. I light another smoke, the white has been conquered; layer two is completed.
The whole canvas is wet and stays went for a while, (depending on the humidity). I want to use this to my advantage, so that I can evenly juxtapose the value changes. I create more of the pink peachiness and plop it in the center on my palette. To the left I squeeze out a glob of permanent rose red, and purple red and just dab of purple, black and blue. To the right of the peachiness, I squeeze out, luminous red (which is hot pink) and a glob of white, each with considerable space between. With my knife, I knife the dark colors together, clean my knife, and continue down the line. I blend each adjacent color the next and create the value changes of the pedals. And this begins the painting process. The layers from here on out are countless; I have yet to finished this painting.