Feeling Seen, Through Art

One of my heart’s desires as an artist is to make people feel seen.

Life is busy and mundane, unique and boring, exciting and tedious, and in the middle of all that life, we can sometimes disappear. Between work, relationships, cleaning, car maintenance, birthday parties, church and doctor’s appointments we can at times feel like we’ve simply vanished into the swirling lines and shapes that make up the pattern of our life.

But art pauses the chaos. Just for a moment.

While you’re standing in front of that painting, or sculpture, or beautifully stitched quilt you can reappear for a minute. See a part of you reflected in the creation before you. Corners of your heart that have been buried under activity can resurface and remind you of who you are.

That’s my aim with every portrait I paint. I want you to know that I see you. You are beautiful. You are known. You are loved.

Art did that for me a few months ago.

I went to visit a precious friend in North Carolina, and because she shows her love by seeing and knowing, she took me to the Biltmore House. If beauty is high value to you, this place will make your head explode and your heart melt.

But it wasn’t the gorgeous rooms, majestic chandeliers, or perfectly manicured grounds that made me feel seen and known.

It was Claude.

I was walking in front of my friend, listening to the self-guided tour on the little hand-held speaker, when the voice said, ‘And in this room we have original Monet paintings.’

Right in front of me. I was standing right in front of Monet’s beautiful work. I had no idea they were part of this home’s art collection! I was amazed, delighted, speechless.

But that wasn’t the best part.

The best part was turning around, with tears of joy and surprise, to see my friend watching me and smiling- knowing all along that this room contained those treasures. Treasures that I would delight in. Treasures that would touch my heart. She knew.

And in that moment, art gave the give of being known. The gift of being seen.

My Favorite Brushes

I love coffee. But, I’m not a coffee snob.

Same goes for paintbrushes. I love them, but I’m not a snob. However, I could easily become one (if I won the lottery). So, here are my favorite brushes from ‘Somewhat Snobby’ (I mean, they’re not made out of unicorn hair or anything) to ‘Always Affordable’.

My all-time favorite brushes?

Trekell! I love, love, love the Trekell Opal 4000 kf series. I use the filberts in 8, 4, 2, 0. (But I’m finding myself using flats more and more…). Why do I love them? They are the perfect balance for oil painting of flexibility and firmness. They also NEVER lose their bristles. And, if you treat them with love and kindness, they keep their shape for a very long time.

Ok, hand in hand with Trekell brushes are my second favorite - Rosemary Brushes. The only reason I didn’t name them as number one is because I use them for blending (which is important to a portrait artist!). The series I use is Rosemary Filbert 278 in 4, 2, and 1. But I just end up using the 4 all the time. I have never met a blending brush like this beauty. Truly my portrait-painting ride-or-die.

Now, those brushes are more of an investment (for me personally, I know fancier artists have even fancier brushes, but I like to keep a little money left over for things like the mortgage and groceries!). I also have some favorite brushes that are a bit more accessible to every budget!

Amazon cheap-o Bomega brushes. Although, I think the brand name changes from time to time (I still can’t figure Amazon brands out). They’re cheap and I like ‘em!. The last time I purchased them they were ‘Bomega 803’ and they come in a pack with all the sizes. They are very soft, and great for subtle detail and some blending. Also, when the bristles splay, they create great texture!

And last but not least, good ol Princeton Snap! brushes. These cheapies are available at your local art store and will cost you a whopping $2-$5 dollars. I love them because they do a decent job and you don’t have to have a proper funeral if one loses a bristle or two…you can just buy another one! I tend to buy the smaller ones and use them for details in eyes, lips, and noses.

So there you have it- these are a few of my favorite things! Hope this was helpful. Happy painting!

An Extroverted Introvert

Do you ever let other people, personality tests, and past experiences define you? Do you ever feel like “I guess that’s just the way I am!”?

I do.

One of the ways I have let external influences define me is in the area of introversion and extroversion. We love to make it black and white- some people are introverts, some are extroverts. Full stop.

And so, I agree each time I’m told I’m an introvert. I believe each time I tell myself that people wear me out. I believe that sore ears in a loud room mean I want to be alone.

But, I think we’re a little bit more complex than that. We aren’t simple machines. We are alive, we are human, we are growing, changing. We are different depending on the context, our mood, our stage of life, and who we’re around. We are dynamic. We are people!

And sometimes I’m introverted.

And sometimes I’m not.

I know this is true because of something 2022 has taught me.

I have taken my art outside this year. I’ve taken it to galleries, and events, and shows. I’ve shared it in emails, and displayed it on social media. I’ve talked about it and celebrated it, and put it in front of eyeballs.

And I’ve loved it.

I’ve loved the people-y part of sharing my art.

I’ve loved each person who has laughed or cried or hugged me because a piece of art made them feel honored and seen.

I’ve loved the stories people have entrusted to me about the precious life I’m coaxing out of the canvas.

I’ve loved the buzz of a full gallery and the hush of art conversations in the corners of the room.

I’ve loved kids who want to paint with me and have no shame in embracing the fact that they are artists!

I’ve loved the generous spirit of other artists in the community who invite me, include me, encourage me.

Thank you art, for teaching me that I am a people-loving introvert who needs all the beautiful connections with other humans that you offer.

Isn't It Just Copying?

Artists are often sensitive, emotional, and able to see things from a different perspective. We can also be a moody bunch prone to soaring snobbery and sinking self-loathing. These two ditches are often best displayed through our disdain for other mediums and genres of art.

As a portrait painter, I most often hear the criticism: “Aren’t you just copying?”

The short answer? ‘Yes.’

I always have.

I copied my parents when I learned to form words. I copied my teachers when I learned reading and writing. I copied my siblings when I learned to tattle. Copying is how I’ve always learned and created.

But, to make the criticism sting less, I would like to suggest that many art forms are ‘elevated copying’. Yes, I’m copying values, forms, and color. But I’m also seeing.

I spend hours looking at my subjects as I paint them. I see. I notice. I’m intrigued. I put that all on canvas. And it does something to the subject, the viewer and me, the painter.

The subject feels seen. Known. Beheld.

The viewer feels empathy. Themselves reflected in the expression and humanity of the subject.

And I, the painter, feel like a mirror. Taking the image of someone and reflecting it back to them with worth, value and dignity.

Yeah, I copy. But my prayer is that I become an artist who copy the steps of the Creator Who sees, shapes, forms, and heaps dignity on all.

The Ugly Stage

People aren’t the only things that go through ‘glow ups’. Paintings also have both ugly stages and magical moments.

For me, the beginning and the end of a painting are the most beautiful.

At the beginning, the clean lines of the sketch and crisp contrast of the paint values sitting next to each other thrill me. I love looking at this stage of a painting and I love sharing it with others. Then, all goes silent for a while.

If you don’t see me sharing a painting for a while, it’s probably because I’m in the ‘messy middle’ (or I’m saving it for a ‘grand reveal’ at an exhibit).

The middle stages of a painting are ugly. Facial features get distorted, colors and values get pushed into the wrong places, hope is lost. This is the stage where I despair and get all kinds of dramatic. I think thoughts like, ‘What the heck am I doing?’, ‘Do I even know how to paint?’, ‘Can I save this piece?’, etc.

Then, things start coming back together, the essence of the person starts to be seen in the tiniest of details. Hope is restored. Glow up happens. The painter/painting relationship is restored.

So, if you ever see a painting where the painter has given her subject a black eye, just wait, the ugly stage doesn’t last forever!

Would you paint it in the rain? On a train? With a fox? In a box?

I love my studio. It’s my happy place.

However, art-making can be done anywhere. We’ve all seen street artists with their sidewalk set-up. There’s the plein-air artists with their easels in a field. Muralists transport their tools on lifts. And caricaturists bring a sketchpad to wherever the tourists are!

I am also learning to be flexible and brave when it comes to making art outside the 4 walls of my studio.

This week, flexibility meant setting up my work station in a hotel room. Now, that is a challenge. I think I moved the furniture into every conceivable configuration before I found good lighting. But, I did it. And it was good for my brain to adapt, flex, problem solve, and then of course paint!

I would say most of my life has been an exercise in adapting to and accepting change. Art is no different.