The Musings of Molly

A blog primarily chronicling the artistic and writerly endeavors of a girl who moves with the change in wind patterns, and is always trying to puzzle out, and explore the life given.

Monday, June 14, 2010

The littlest cousins

While the quality of this is poor w/o the scanner, here is the sequence for today that I finished... these are my second cousins. My cousin Nora took the pictures of the girls and "Nana" berry picking and I snagged a couple to practice sketching as well as to get consistency in work and character for my website.... Maeve, Morgan and Cameron....

New work

Trying to get some fresh work completed to rework my website... below is one that has been hanging around waiting for me to put in the final work. Started out I just wanted to draw Myles (the dog in the background) but then I decided compositionally it still needed a kid. I am not really comfortable drawing kids without reference so I took my nephew and the sequence of images i have of him and did my best. I also spent two hours with HP trying to get my "new" printer to work so I could scan this in but I guess that was asking too much for their product (which sounded like it was having a seizure) and so I have to wait 5-6 business days for it.... which puts my aspirations for ordering new postcards a touch behind but gives me the excuse to continue painting... once I feed myself. (I opted to hold the image up to my computer... thus the darker corner...)

Friday, June 11, 2010

Apple Magic

I started a new section to my The Art Pal ( where I am going to be teaching people how to paint. A pal of mine wanted to learn how to paint trees so we took to undergoing an online watercolor school aptly named "Molly Louisa's Art Institute". I am working out some kinks as I go, adapting to the video format while making art, as well as to what specifically my student needs or wants to know. It is surprisingly so much fun. The other day we did an online video chat where I had her share my screen and we went over her homework for the week, with me drawing on it in photoshop and just talking about art as I drew. It was such a nice feeling, which I suppose surprised me because my last experience teaching high schoolers was not at all something I'd like to go through again (although I have many times consented that the particular high school and where I was at that point in life may have been all it was and all high school students are not terrible :))
So last night I was having a blast dancing and jiving to music and opted to record while I did one element that I needed for my website. Below is the video. It is not very descriptive as most of mine tend to be (I talk about exactly what I'm doing as I do it), this is more just fun to watch an apple take shape. I prefer to just pull the "play" bar quickly across to watch it form.... I'll post teaser's to the lessons as I get further into the course.
Oh and the best part is I was learning from my student as well. While I was doing this apple painting I thought about some aspects of painting an apple she had picked up on that I naturally would not have. Loved it.

Friday, June 4, 2010

Summer Camp

A tiny cluster of bags, plastic tubs and paint supplies stick out from the bottom of my bed, creating a small pathway to my door. I look at this collection, propped in a bed with only a sheet to cover myself for the evening. I am moving again, and there, at the foot of my bed is the selection of me. My life as exemplified by a plastic tub, shoe box or two. I peeled the images from my closet wall, the many faces of myself as I study the intricacies of aging through the twenties. It seems strange to see the table that has been splattered with paint, paint that caught on the picnic table draped haphazardly over the softly stained wood, to stand bare now, vacant of a propped up canvas, oil paints spattered about.

Any other time this would cause a swell of nostalgia, partial resentment at having to move yet again, and after the last few, a general nervousness at the change, but today, I feel content to pack my bags for what I am calling "Summer Camp". A summer spent in Amherst, Massachusetts in a subleted apartment. This afternoon as I stood in the door frame of my new room I glanced at the table, the bed, the bookshelf and thought, yes, I think I would enjoy this room with it's yellow painted walls, freshly vacuumed floor. I smoothed my hand over the surface of the desk imagining my paints and table cloth protecting this surface from a colorful onslaught. The yellow felt good. I did, after all, have a choice between that or orange, but the yellow was good. Yellow has been two of my best friend's favorite colors.

Perhaps thinking of this as Summer Camp is all it took. Perhaps just the rhythm of packing my things, selecting between what I deem a necessity and what can wait. I find this often, a partitioning of things, things that I relate to myself. A partitioning down from what use to be large, then cut down, then boxed, then moved, then cut down, then boxed, and then here I am doing it again. And I know now if I go to my attic, I would just toss almost all away. I don't need it. In some ways it no longer belongs to me, my childhood things, my teenager things, my college things. Shedding it like layers. Shedding it, as I leave my parents house again after a nice refuge when I needed a refuge, but a place I have been pushing from like a caterpillar in her cocoon as of late. It is time to stretch the wings.

So I take my tiny pile, my layer, and a feather or two for guidance, pull the Trina painting from the wall, slip them into the car and move on.