How Coronavirus is Affecting Artists

Yesterday I went to the grocery store. I had been dreading it all week. I knew the toilet paper would be long gone (thankfully, my Amazon shipment came a week ago, before the panic started). But I wasn't prepared to walk in and find that there were no eggs, no dairy products, no meat, no peanut butter (sorry, Everett... your P&J's will have to wait), no sweet potatoes, no bread, and barely any bottled water. The cold and flu aisle was stripped bare, as was the diaper aisle and most of the canned goods. I found most of what I needed, but as I stood in the checkout line, which wrapped all the way around to the back of the store, I felt like telling all the hard-working employees, "Thank you for your service." They had to do something they weren't necessarily trained or obligated to do, which was to manage all the customers' fears and concerns while continuing to be positive and friendly.

I am watching with sadness as people practice "social distancing", whether it be at the grocery store, work, or the gym. Many people are simply opting to stay home and practice living as hermits. Hermit life is usually fine by me... as an artist, you learn to be comfortable with spending long hours by yourself. But in times like these, you realize just how much we as humans need to be social. We are not meant to be alone, and this COVID-19 is a threat not just to our physical health but to our mental wellness and our societal need for companionship.

Here in Colorado, all major (and minor) events -- from concerts and basketball games, to small church gatherings and parties... have been cancelled. Worldwide and especially in big cities, museums are closed. Exhibition openings cancelled. Conferences, workshops, gatherings of any kind... cancelled or postponed until who knows when.

My favorite event of the year, the Portrait Society of America conference (which I referenced in my last post), was also postponed until August. It was a necessary call in light of everything that's been going on, but I know that I for one am very disappointed, and I can't even imagine what a difficult and heartbreaking decision it was for the event's organizers, who put so much heart and soul and hard work into planning this event every single year.

All of my art events are in the spring. It's an important time of year for many of us artists, as we paint for deadlines in January/February, then display and sell our work at various exhibitions and events around the country in April and May.  This is a huge investment for artists, because not only are we focusing months of our time and energy into these paintings, but we are also spending a lot of money on expensive, high quality frames to display our work in the best possible light. We love to paint, but we also love nothing more than to see our work purchased by collectors and carried off to new homes where our creative offspring will be treasured.

A newly framed 35x16" painting
that will *hopefully* be heading to the California Art Club
gold medal exhibition at the end of April

For these events to all be suddenly shut down is catastrophic for artists. I learned yesterday that the Colorado ballet cancelled all of their events, and the dancers--people born and trained to PERFORM - are devastated.  They already have to work incredibly hard for the little income they earn as artists, and now they are out of work for the next couple of months.

What I'm trying to say is... as this situation escalates, we must all do our part to keep the world turning. Yes, it's important to be aware of the virus as a very real threat, but we must also be aware of those who are going to suffer as a result of this global shutdown.

What can be done? As an artist, I'll continue hiring models, purchasing frames from my small business frame builders, and supporting the art materials manufacturers.  And we can still be viewing and buying art online. Perhaps we can provide more options to ensure the collector is 100% satisfied with their purchase. We know it's a risk to buy original art online, but if a collector gets a 2-week "trial" period to see if the piece of art works in their home, or they can return it free of charge -- that might be a good incentive to collect more art without fear of disappointment.

Finally, I will continue to make instructional videos. I've been making about one a month for the art streaming platform, MadeforArtists.net. This month I produced a video showing how I problem solve while painting a self portrait from a mirror, and in April, I will have a brand new portrait demonstration available. So if you are hoping to learn more about oil painting, now might be the perfect time!

Subscribe here: https://madeforartists.net/register?promo_code=7I4ZXH

If you must stay at home, enrich your life with art. Now more than ever, we need this in our lives. Stay healthy and safe, but surround yourself with beauty, every chance you get. 

Child of Spring - FINALIST in the 22nd Annual Portrait Society International Competition!

"Child of Spring"
24x12"
oil on linen
2020 Finalist in the
Portrait Society of America
International Competition

I got the call last week. Having been a member of the Portrait Society for some time now (10 years, I think?), you eventually learn that you're either going to get a phone call or an email, and what you really want is the phone call! This is my third time being accepted as a finalist, but it feels monumental for me. This year, after battling a lot of depression and stress (see my last post, oh... and did I mention that last year we bought a house? and moved? With a 5-year-old and an infant?!), I had major doubts as to whether or not I would be accepted. Two of the pieces I entered were paintings that I had labored over for months, and the third was one that I felt like I rushed to finish in time for the competition deadline. So, when I got the call that "Child of Spring" had been chosen, I was stunned and humbled, and SO, so thankful! Guys, you will almost never see me do a happy dance. BUT... I performed an epic happy dance in my kitchen. And Cecelia stared at me over her cereal bowl and asked what was going on.

I decided to write about this because I want to share about the difference between this year's accepted piece and my first-ever finalist painting from back in 2016, called "A Fleeting Moment" (shown below with Cecelia, the model). 

"A Fleeting Moment" was only 8 inches by 6 inches, and was painted in about 3 hours, all in one sitting. My then 2 1/2-year-old daughter was the subject of the painting, and I remember feeling like each brush stroke just fell into place, effortlessly, as though I was channeling some divine Creativity and it had nothing to do with me. Ask any artist, whether novice or professional - they will tell you that these moments DO exist, but they are very rare, even for the best of the best. 

Fast forward two years to spring of 2018 when I started "Child of Spring". I was pregnant with my second child, already as uncomfortable as could be, and feeling like my brain was being consumed PacMan style by the little boy growing inside me. I couldn't focus on my work or make any kind of articulate expressions, whether with words or with paint. This, to me, was the single-most frustrating thing about pregnancy, winning out over heartburn and the 567 daily trips to the bathroom. It was frustrating because it felt like I--an Achiever--was being robbed of what I'm normally pretty good at.

Here are a few shots from the early stages of the painting.

It was when I got to this point (above)--where the portrait was pretty much locked in, but it was time to start focusing on the blossoms--that I "quit." I didn't know if I was going to finish it, because my excitement for the original concept and block-in fell flat. I set the painting aside and focused on other projects for several months.

After my son was born (August 2018), I picked up the painting again and worked on it some more. I thought that maybe it would be finished in time for the 2019 Portrait Society competition, but once again I became discouraged, and didn't enter it. 

The deadline came and went, but I was distracted with the excruciatingly stressful, exciting and all-consuming process of buying a home and moving (Feb-March of 2019).

Almost finished... but, mushy.

Above: It sat in this state for months on end. I had called it "finished" (even signed it in the upper righthand corner), but never posted it publicly. I knew deep down that it wasn't good enough yet. The flowers felt flat and "mushy" to me, showing how indecisive I was in my paint handling. The portrait felt strong, but I wasn't crazy about some of the light shapes on the dress, or the shapes of the branches in the background. I would set the painting on my easel, look at it, and then put it back into storage because my brain was too muddled to solve all the problems that remained.

Almost a year after our move, I finally pulled out the painting again, and finished it, thanks to the advice of several artist friends, and my own renewed sense of vigor. I strengthened the shapes overall by creating more contrast and more interesting edge dynamics, and by repainting several areas altogether. Every inch of the painting was reassessed to see whether or not it was worth leaving or reworking. I realized that the time away was not wasted. I had learned things that could be applied to this painting now--skills that were not yet mature enough a year or two before.

So my encouragement to you, fellow artists, is to not get discouraged! It's okay to let a painting sit and breathe for months or years on end. You might come back to it with just the right solution if you can just be patient with yourself and the process. And don't get sucked into thinking that the only successful paintings are the ones that you whip out in three hours after being possessed by the Divine Creativity! If that happens to you, great. But more often than not, you just have to be willing to put in the work. Happy painting, friends!

The finished painting