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.

When Makers Commission Makers to Make for another Maker

I’ve heard creatives complain that the only people who follow them on social media are other creatives. But I don’t see that as a bad thing. After all, creatives love handmade, artsy, craftsy, creative goodness!

Last November, I received a commission that is the perfect example of creatives appreciating and creating for each other.

A local creative, a graphic designer, asked me to paint his wife. We’ll call him ‘Creative #1’

I, the portrait artist, said ‘Yes!’. I’ll be ‘Creative #2’.

The wife is a local gown designer and wearing her own creation in the painting. ‘Creative #3’.

So, we had a maker asking another maker to make something for his maker wife.

But, it’s gets better!

I needed a reference photo. So, we used the stunning photograph of a local wedding photographer. ‘Creative #4’.

Now the painting is finished and hanging in it’s new home. But the creative cyclone just keeps spinning!

In an act of creative generosity and hospitality, the wife (Creative #3) is hosting an open house at her bridal studio. And, she’s invited more makers! I, Creative #2, will be there. So will Creative #4, our friend the photographer. And we’ll be joined by a videographer (Creative #5) and an event planner (Creative #6).

And so, in conclusion. Creativity is contagious and it spreads- in the best possible way. What I am learning from both local makers and even the ones on social media, is that creatives need each other, appreciate each other, and are quite the force when they put their creative minds together!

Farewell, Sweet Friend

You know that feeling you get when you finish a book or t.v. series? Like low-key grief. After investing hours of time and buckets of feelings, all of a sudden, it’s over. I mope around for a day or two before I can move on with my life. Are you the same?

I have a similar experience each time I finish a custom oil portrait and send it off to it’s new home. A portrait takes me roughly 4-8 weeks to complete. That’s a lot of time together. Not only is the person on my easel, but I spend my days studying their features, painting the tiniest details of their eyes, getting to know their expression, appreciating what makes them unique. And then they’re gone.

I think that’s why I enjoy the packing and shipping aspect so much. It’s like a sending-off ceremony. And so, I thought I’d invite you into my most recent send-off. Goodbye, baby ‘L’, it was lovely meeting you!

Canvases

If you love the nuts and bolts of painting, stick around. I’ve got some deliciously boring opinions on canvases!

I started out painting on cheap canvas boards. Basically, just cardboard with canvas glued to it. It did the trick. And I was a beginner- so who cares! I say use what’s available. Don’t worry too much about getting ‘the right’ materials until you’ve been painting long enough to know what you like and don’t like.

Then, I switched to gallery wrapped canvases. These are canvases wrapped around a wooden frame and attached with staples. I even tried making my own for a while. I liked working with these for a variety of reasons. One- they were cheap! Art stores sell them in bulk packs which make them affordable and your mistakes less precious. I also like the bounce of the surface when painting. Most of all, I liked how easy they were to hang. The cavity in the back makes it easy to hang them on your easel or the wall.

What I did not like about gallery wrapped canvases was how easily they got dimpled and dented which makes shipping a nightmare and I hated framing them. Like, REALLY hated framing them. The frame has to be custom and it has to be a perfect fit. The dread of framing a finished piece swallowed up the joy of creating the painting.

So, I switched to canvas hardboard. I love these! It’s a piece of quality MDF board with the canvas glued to the front. My favorite brand so far has been Jack Richeson. They offer different sizes and different grades of canvas, I always use extra fine.

I love that they are sturdy, undent-able, and EASY to frame. At just an 1/8th of an inch thick, you can use any frame. I buy mine from our local art store here in Medford Oregon, Central Art Supply.

It’s been a game changer. I love these canvases!

It Was a Great Day

Covid-19 reared it’s ugly head in March, just ahead of the 70th birthday party we had planned for my Dad. So, we waited. Until August. We thought, at the time, that we had ‘flattened the curve’ and all was well. In reality, we just had a small window of time to enjoy a belated birthday picnic in the backyard before the next wave hit. I’m so thankful we did.

It was a great day. Dad is worth celebrating and 70 is a big deal. We ate and laughed and reminisced and took pictures.

This painting is based off of one of those pictures. It brings me joy. He brings me joy. Backyard picnics with people I love bring me joy. And painting portraits brings me joy.

What's Wrong With This Picture?

Can anyone tell me what’s wrong with this picture?

The painting is of Gomer, one of my favorite historical figures. I love how this painting turned out and the way the colors jump on the canvas in the sunlight. But, I am breaking an important rule.

‘Don’t place your oil painting in direct sunlight!’

An original piece of art is an investment. It’s personal, deeply meaningful, and costs a dollar or two more than Hobby Lobby art. Therefore, it’s important that we care for our art properly so that we can enjoy it for many years to come and even pass it on to the next generation.

One of the most important ‘Art Care Rules’ is to never hang a piece in direct sunlight. As beautiful as it looks, all shimmery in the glow, it will ruin the painting. The piece of art that once penetrated our heart and soul with it’s color, glow, intensity, and beauty will end up a faded, dull remnant of what it used to be.

So, don’t follow my example in the photo above! Instead, hang your painting in a well-lit room away from direct sunlight. And all will be well.

She Just Oozed Hospitality

Josh and I started dating when we were 17. It wasn’t long until I started meeting his extended family and family friends. Everyone was warm and kind. Including Joanne.

Joanne and Virgil had been friends with my husband’s family since he was little, and operated somewhat like second grandparents. I was immediately welcomed in.

Joanne had a lot of things that put people at ease. She had a cozy, inviting cabin. She had the world’s most comfortable couch, perfect for naps. She had beautiful clothes, and her trademark, turquoise jewelry. She loved to make memories and her friends’ homes were filled with items given or created by her.

But, all that still wasn’t her best attribute. He greatest achievement was wearing a spirit of hospitality wherever she went. Her attitude towards others felt like a front door swung wide open. She was approachable, and interested, invested, and warm.

She was a good example. She was an oozer of hospitality. She is missed.

My First Artists' Show

A few weeks ago I was able to participate in a local Artists’ Show and Sale. As an artist, one of the most difficult questions I get is ‘How’s art going?’ Oh man, so many possible answers!

If you were to ask me ‘how did the artists’ show go?’ I would tell you this:

  1. I loved meeting other artists in person! I have found it challenging to break into my local art community. Partly due to my own ‘introvert-y’ ways and partly because the art community here is well established and I’m the new kid. So, to meet so many of the artists whose work I’ve already admired was such a privilege.

  2. I learned so much about displaying my art in an art fair context. I took notes, learned from other artists, and am ready for the next event!

  3. I took one more step in my ‘be braver’ journey. Each new event I sign up for is a risk. But each time I try something new, I gain confidence and am more ready for the next new thing.

  4. I enjoyed the visitors who walked through the event. It’s such a compliment to know that someone woke up in the morning and decided that viewing local art was a priority. I was so thankful for the conversation, words of affirmation, and feedback.

I am grateful for opportunities to be a part of local art, for my fellow artists, for organizers who make these events possible, for visitors and customers who come to enjoy art with us, and for the gift of art itself!

I Was Influenced By: Faye Jurisich

My mom’s best friend from college was an artist.

She didn’t live near us, but when she visited, I was in awe. Although I admired her for all the creative offerings she contributed to the beautification of our home, what really made an impression on my child’s art heart was when she pulled out the crayons.

Wow. While I tried painstakingly to color within the lines of the latest grocery store coloring contest picture, and my sister neatly outlined each graphic before carefully coloring it in, Faye created ART! A purple tree? A green sky? Wait, you don’t have to follow the rules? You can just CREATE? My little mind was blown.

My coloring game changed after that. And my view of creativity blossomed.

Thanks, Faye, for making art and making time for a little girl who really, really loved to color!

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.

Why I love 'Signs of Life'

'Life from Death’, that was the prompt for an Easter exhibit a few years ago. I love deep thoughts, abstract concepts, spiritual stories with spiritual meanings. But, I don’t always know how to take a Biblical principle and translate it into a concrete piece of art.

So, I started with death. Jesus’ death. He was buried in a stone cave, the tomb of his day. In my country at this time in history, it is common for the dead to be placed in the earth. To me that seems warmer than a stone tomb. Jesus’ burial place must have been so dark, and damp, and cold. Cold surfaces aren’t my favorite. I’m not a fan of glass tables or marble countertops. But our Savior was laid to rest on something cold. In something cold. No light. No warmth. Just death.

I then started thinking about life. What is life? It’s light, and warmth, and growth. There’s life in a warm handshake, a lush garden, a sunny beach . Life moves, perseveres, breaks through, grows, changes, becomes.

And so, a little seed started to grow in my mind. The image of a seedling growing through the cracks of the dark tomb. All around was cold death, but life was happening. Small at first. Slowly at first. But still alive.

In the Christian worldview, life wins, death loses. Every time.

“Oh death, where is your sting?’

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Southern Beauty

When you hear ‘southern beauty’ do you immediately think of a southern belle? Although my southern friends are gorgeous, ‘Southern Beauty’ is actually the name of the first art exhibit I was included in.

The Philippines is made up of more than 7,000 islands, but the three largest are Luzon, Palawan, and Mindanao. Mindanao is the southernmost island. It’s made up of tropical beaches, cool mountains, abundant farms, a vast variety of people groups, languages, and belief systems- and it’s where I first exhibited art!

We had the honor and privilege of raising our family on the island of Mindanao. When the kids eventually became smarter than me, we hung up our homeschooling hats and moved to the big city where they could attend a ‘real’ school. It was there, in Davao City, that I began to take art more seriously.

My husband bought me art books and painting supplies. I took classes from (AMAZING) Filipino artists. I spent way too many pesos at the art store down the street. But, it wasn’t until I wandered into Alex Alagon’s gallery in the mall that I was challenged to share my art.

Are you a secret artist? I was. It was so vulnerable and scary to hold my art out for the world to see. But when Kuya Alex asked me, “How will you glorify God with your art if you never share it?” I decided to start being a little bit braver. He invited me to contribute a few paintings to a community exhibit at the local museum. And I did. And I’m glad I did. (and I got to meet Kublai Millan!)

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It's Just a Board

It’s just a single piece of plywood. Tipped on it’s side. With holes punched through it. Everyone, meet my easel.

When we moved back to America 3 years ago, I told my dad I wanted an easel that wasn’t precious. I wanted to be able to beat it up, store things on it, and just have an all-around versatile workspace. He made it happen.

Off to the hardware store we went, purchased one piece of plywood (that was before prices spiked in southern Oregon. I’d have to sell a kidney to buy a piece of plywood now!), and brought it back home.

Using his mathy brain, he drilled holes 6 inches apart in length and 18 inches apart in height. We then bought the same amount of nails, which I move around depending on where I need to hang canvases.

Along the top, I added a row of screws that I hang my tubes of paint on.

We propped that bad boy on two cinder blocks and leaned it against the wall. Viola!

It’s simple. It’s ugly. It’s perfect!

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I Was Influenced By: Peggy Mory

I loved growing up in a small town.

We knew the cashiers at the grocery store. We knew the pharmacist. Postal workers were a steady fixtures and local pastors and florists acted as anchors. Landmarks.

As a child, one of my favorite local businesses was the Mory’s office and art supply shop. It was full of potential. All the ingredients needed for creating.

But the best thing about this store was Mr. Mory. She was kind. She was approachable. She has time for a little girl who loved art.

I have two memories of her that were influential in shaping my young, just-forming view of how artists treat people.

My older sister has always been a go-getter. At some point in elementary school, she decided to organize a yard sale to support muscular dystrophy. I made artwork to sell. But no art vendor can sell her work without displaying it well, so off we went to see Mrs. Mory. She helped me come up with a grand plan- to decorate a box! It was such a big deal to my little self. I loved that box, that art, and that moment learning from Mrs. Mory.

I don’t know what came first, the yard sale or Halloween, but my other memory fell on America’s most artistic day of the year- October 31st. Believe what you want about that controversial day, but no other day highlights our love for creating more than Halloween! Again, off we went to see Mrs. Mory for some state of the art face paint. I was a cowgirl. And I was impressed. How could someone transform a face so easily? I mean, she gave me lashes, and freckles, and all the necessary ingredients to be the cutest cowgirl on the coast.

Looking back, what were enormous moments for little me, were probably no big deal to a busy artist going about her day. But, I am so thankful for her example. From her I learned what artists should look like. They should make time for moments, big and small. They should be approachable. They should be relatable and available. And, their small acts of kindness make big impressions.

Calling Myself 'Artist'

Have you described yourself as ‘artsy’, ‘artistic’, ‘craftsy’? Do these words feel safer than ‘Artist’?

I felt the same way.

Calling myself an artist, despite the fact that I was creating art on a regular basis with the intent to exhibit and eventually sell my art, felt physically painful.

About 5 years into my ‘taking art seriously’ journey, I met a Filipino artist who invited me to exhibit some of my paintings at an upcoming exhibit at the local museum. It was a life-changing moment in a lot of ways, but what I remember most was him taking a look at my painting hanging on the wall and saying, ‘There, now you can go ahead and call yourself an artist’.

So I did.

The truth is, I could’ve called myself an artist long before that point, but I needed someone to encourage, prod, and validate me as an artist. I needed permission and I didn’t yet have the maturity to give it to myself.

I guess what I’m saying is that if you make art on a regular basis, have a designated studio space, sometimes sell your creations, exhibit, take classes/courses/workshops to hone your skill, or a myriad of other art practices, you my friend are an artist. Go ahead and say it out loud. It feels good.

-Belinda