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!

Drawing and Drinking...Coffee

I want to be like those painters who paint directly onto the canvas without sketching first. But I’m not.

My method is slower, more methodical.

I always start with a drawing, then transfer it to the canvas, then paint.

And if it’s a morning drawing session, I always, always have a coffee!

So Many Supplies

Have you ever gone on a vacation where you bring your own food, but when you arrive you’ve forgotten some of the basics, like oil and ketchup? The reason we forget them, is that they’re just always there. Kitchens always have oil, ketchup, a salt shaker, etc.

Art supplies are the same. Sure, from time to time we need to buy canvases and some new brushes. But the majority of the supplies we use we take for granted. Our easel, drawers full of paints, 200 old brushes, mediums, paper towels, even our apron and stool. Most of us don’t go out and buy all of those things at once, they are slowly accumulated and become part of the background of our space and work.

Which is why I hate figuring out how to price my work. Most pricing advice is something like, ‘Factor in your hours, the cost of your supplies, the size of the painting, and current rates from other artists.’ The truth is, I don’t know what percentage of my painting apron gets factored in to my prices. Do I factor in the cost of my wheely stool? Painter’s tape? The nails I rest my canvases on? What about the new light bulbs in my studio, or my favorite 5 year old palette knife? Do I factor all those things into the price?

From a math perspective, adding up the cost of the supplies, makes my head spin.

But from a personal perspective, I really love that my life, work, and studio are combinations of new and old. Used, worn, and also fresh and shiny. I love a new paintbrush, but I also love my old mini-blinds adjusting rod that I use as a mahl.

I like that I’m settled in. I have a space. And in that space, I can create beauty and send it off into the world!

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!

Coming to Life

I always start with black and white.

In the classical painting world, a black and white underpainting is called a ‘grisaille’. I don’t know why, but I do like using fancy words.

Once the grisaille is finished, I then cover the whole thing with a transparent layer of red. This is the first of many, many thin color layers. It’s also the most exciting layer.

Adding the red layer is like watching an old black and white film become colorized. It’s like watching a drawing become animation. It’s like watching something come to life!

There are so many parallels between art and life. There are times when life feels black and white, and then something happens that makes everything red and vibrant. For me, that’s art. Art makes me come to life.

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.

Back to the Basics

“Now paint it green”

There were a few languages being spoken in the classroom, so I thought maybe I had misunderstood our instructor. I had just spent hours painting a beautiful grisaille (black and white painting) of a lovely face. Now I was supposed to paint her green?

Yep.

And then red.

And then yellow.

That was the day the mystery of those glowing, realistic, museum portraits was unlocked in my mind. Hues that had seemed so impossible to mix on my palette were simply layers of primary colors.

As it turns out, layers of reds and greens and yellows equal…skin tones! Who knew.

Art is so cool.