Have you ever had a painting day when nothing seemed to go right? . . you struggled with getting the right color . . . you kept making the wrong marks and in the wrong places . . . and you felt as if you had never painted before? Most of us have had those days . . . Not Fun!
And then there is the day when you approach your painting and everything just "works." Your brush or pastel just seems to glide effortlessly over the surface of your paper or canvas in all the right places at just the right times. The painting just seems to paint itself! And you wonder why??
Well, I remember vividly about four years ago when this happened to me. My portrait group, Piedmont Portraits, had an upcoming show, and I was painting furiously to have some new portraits ready. One piece that I had wanted to paint for years was finally going to be painted. I had taken this photo of my girls when they were little, sitting by a window in their nightgowns — for this very purpose. I placed them beside the window because the light coming in from the right highlighted them on one side, giving them the form necessary for a good solid drawing or painting. On the photo, I painted over the bookshelves that were in the background because I felt that they were a bit confusing, and I wanted to simplify the photo before painting.
I began the pastel painting by first drawing the figures on a piece of white Wallis sanded paper.
Since my background was to be a soft cool gray, I under-painted it in a contrasting warm red;
I under-painted the figures in basically two values of violet, light and shadow, as you can see in the sample below. This contrast in temperature of the under-painting to the finished layer would give the painting a sparkle and glow. The hard part was finished because I had already done the
drawing and established my
values, the two most critical skills to master for a successful painting.
As I began laying in the pastels, I struggled a bit with Amy's face, I think because I was trying to give her a more pleasant look rather than the "pouty" look that the photo had captured.
When I got to Allyson's face. it just seemed to paint itself and easily came together as I sought to capture her innocence. This is the painting about three quarters finished:
. . and now completed:
Thirty years after taking this photo, I finally got around to painting it, and am I ever
glad I did! Little did I know what a treasure this would be to me now — for a few weeks later, and four years ago today, Allyson died unexpectedly, so I thought it fitting to share this with you today. I
remember when I was painting it, thinking how odd it was that I just captured her
quickly and without much effort . . . like it just painted itself! . . . Did God
do that for me? I think so, and how thankful I am to have this treasure and visual memory of her!
"It’s
true that when loved ones die,
they leave us with greater
responsibility.
And the same is true for all the losses we encounter in
life …
we gain more tasks, higher responsibility, and increased suffering.
Yet, is it possible that we also gain the potential
of greater joy and
peace in the end?"
-- Allyson Thrift
