This is the painting I started the week before Joey was born. I finally got around to finishing it last weekend.
Here’s how it looked when I last left off:
Going back into it was pretty straightforward, working from back to front:
I spent a lot of time on the drawing for this one. The perspective is so funny— with the high horizon and the not-quite parallel lines— I felt like the scale of each object had to be just right in order for it to work. I was a little worried that the people and trucks looked like they were made of legos. Honestly, the guy in green does sort of look like he’s made of legos in the reference photo. But overall I am pleased with the brushstrokes in this one. The objects look like they have a 3-D form, and they also look like dabs of paint on canvas. That’s the goal anyway.
We recently swapped the two rooms in our apartment so there would be room for Joey’s crib next to our bed. That means— for a little while anyway— that I have the small room to myself as a studio. (Or, as David calls it, my romper room.)
The easel the painting is sitting on is new. I’ve been wanting a new easel for a while. This one is great— very sturdy, easy to fold up, and tall enough to accommodate large canvases. While we were at the art supply store I also picked up…
tiny plastic animals. Love them. I think I’m going to give them to my lab-mates as rig gods. You know, to make sure their experiments go well. There is definitely a level of complexity at which having a god or totem is the best way of ensuring that a machine keeps working. I have heard, for example, that potters often have gods for their kilns. I’m not sure where sewing machines fall on that scale. Anyone out there have a sewing machine charm? And does it work?