6 x 6 inches, oil on board
It's been really exciting for me to see how these turn out... I did his brother Zane, too, I'll show you that one next!
*
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Saturday, March 3, 2012
winner #1: Laird
Here is one of my winners from last week's contest, Aaron's son Laird:
It's nice working on this small scale -- I can get a painting done in an afternoon! It turned out so sweet, I'm really pleased.
More portraits on the way... and I want to do one for you, too! Contact me for details.
*
6 x 6 inches, oil on board
It's nice working on this small scale -- I can get a painting done in an afternoon! It turned out so sweet, I'm really pleased.
More portraits on the way... and I want to do one for you, too! Contact me for details.
*
Monday, February 20, 2012
contest winners!
I forgot to tell you when the winners of the contest would be announced... so here they are! It's right now!
I wrote a numerical list of your names, in the order they appeared in the comments, and used www.random.org to generate two numbers.
The winners are:
Aaron Schiller
Katie Green
Congratulations! I'll contact you both with more details.
Even if you didn't win, I still want to do a portrait for you. Please contact me at:
robinsleftwing (at) yahoo (dot) com
Thanks for all your comments & support!
*
I wrote a numerical list of your names, in the order they appeared in the comments, and used www.random.org to generate two numbers.
The winners are:
Aaron Schiller
Katie Green
Congratulations! I'll contact you both with more details.
Even if you didn't win, I still want to do a portrait for you. Please contact me at:
robinsleftwing (at) yahoo (dot) com
Thanks for all your comments & support!
*
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
portraits
I am switching gears entirely. I love sewing, but I am a painter and I want to paint.
I've had this idea for an enormous piece I want to do of the kids in the bathtub, and I did some sketches and some mock-ups, and the momentum is still there, but I decided to shelve that particular piece for now. Instead, I want to do portraits.
I started with my kids, but I want to do yours, too.
They'll be small, around 5 or 6 square inches, rendered from a photograph, and painted in oil on canvas or board.
I've had this idea for an enormous piece I want to do of the kids in the bathtub, and I did some sketches and some mock-ups, and the momentum is still there, but I decided to shelve that particular piece for now. Instead, I want to do portraits.
I started with my kids, but I want to do yours, too.
They'll be small, around 5 or 6 square inches, rendered from a photograph, and painted in oil on canvas or board.
It was just a coincidence that both pictures I chose of the kids show
them with their heads slightly turned to the right and looking either
wistful or pensive. That they're cropped exactly the same was my
artistic license (or laziness! you decide!). Side-by-side they look a
little "matchy," so, live and learn. I won't hang them next to each
other.
They turned out beautifully, even more so than the pictures here can capture. It's a great way to turn an ordinary photo (or one with a strange prop, like a red shovel) into an original piece of art unique to your family.
These two are basic and straightforward, but I'm excited to try some more
experimental stuff, with collaged layers and more abstract,
artsy elements. I'll post more pieces as I go, so stay posted.
To jump-start this project, I'm going to host a contest to win a free portrait!
To enter: just leave a comment with your email address. I'll close the comments on Saturday, February 18th at noon (EST), and randomly choose two winners from all the comments. You supply the picture, select the surface you'd like, and specify any color preferences.
Stick around even if you don't win, though -- I will be available for commissions starting at $50 for small original portraits.
Good luck!
*
Thursday, January 26, 2012
apropos of nothing
I've noticed this weird driving etiquette in Providence: if someone is trying to turn left and there's an unending stream of on-coming traffic, some driver will invariably slow and flash their brights so the left-turner can sneak through. Actually it goes for right-turners, too, and buses, and pretty much anyone caught in a tight spot.
This city has some serious traffic-flow problems -- lots of one-lane streets, wonky five-street intersections, and chutes-and-ladders interchanges -- so it strikes me as a creative and uncommonly civil solution to give a fellow driver an extra inch to squeeze in.
There are plenty of assholes on the road, don't get me wrong (high on my pet-peeve list are those who sail through red lights just because they feel they've been waiting long enough), but the courtesy of other drivers trumps them. Incredibly, it's the perfect antidote to road rage. I've actually started looking for opportunities to let people in, and I feel bad when I miss them.
Huh.
I have a head cold and feel like I'm wearing a diving bell, which may be why I'm writing about traffic and seriously contemplating further research into it.
Carry on, then!
*
This city has some serious traffic-flow problems -- lots of one-lane streets, wonky five-street intersections, and chutes-and-ladders interchanges -- so it strikes me as a creative and uncommonly civil solution to give a fellow driver an extra inch to squeeze in.
There are plenty of assholes on the road, don't get me wrong (high on my pet-peeve list are those who sail through red lights just because they feel they've been waiting long enough), but the courtesy of other drivers trumps them. Incredibly, it's the perfect antidote to road rage. I've actually started looking for opportunities to let people in, and I feel bad when I miss them.
Huh.
I have a head cold and feel like I'm wearing a diving bell, which may be why I'm writing about traffic and seriously contemplating further research into it.
Carry on, then!
*
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
from the workshop
Here's a little sample of what I was up to last month (you know, aside from weatherproofing):
(well, this is kind of like weatherproofing, if you're like me and have feet that are basically never warm from November to April)
All of these were made to order, so they're not for sale, but I still have most of these fabrics so if you see something you like, give me a holler.
I haven't been painting lately, which is frustrating, but at least I still get to play with colors and textures.
It is satisfying to have warmed & prettified lots of feet this winter, though.
*
(well, this is kind of like weatherproofing, if you're like me and have feet that are basically never warm from November to April)
All of these were made to order, so they're not for sale, but I still have most of these fabrics so if you see something you like, give me a holler.
I haven't been painting lately, which is frustrating, but at least I still get to play with colors and textures.
It is satisfying to have warmed & prettified lots of feet this winter, though.
Friday, January 13, 2012
weatherproof
Hey! I've been MIA for the past couple of months. It's been one of those so-much-to-say-that-I-forgot-what-I-was-going-to-say kind of seasons. But mainly I've been sewing slippers, watching Portlandia, and weatherproofing my windows.
Have you ever found yourself in the middle of a project that has pretty much sucked from the start, and has steadily gotten worse and worse to the point where you're questioning how worth it is to finish, but the reason you can't stop now is because LOOK HOW MUCH TIME I HAVE PUT IN ALREADY. Giving up now is like losing to Father Time. Regret, woe, wrinkle cream ensue.
It has taken an embarrassing amount of time to weatherproof the windows. Fortunately for us, the winter has been unseasonably mild, but really that's just another excuse for why I don't have to finish weatherproofing the windows TODAY. So the plastic has been lying in a heap in the front parlor all week, partially obscured by books and toys and shame.
The only fun part of this process is using the hairdryer to shrink-fit the plastic so it's tight as a drum across the window. Sadly, that accounts for the last 90 seconds of two hours' worth of work getting the tape up and cutting plastic sheets to fit the windows. This took twice as long for me because our windows are 64" high and the plastic is only 62" long. I ended up using the double-sided tape to add extensions to the bottom of each panel, but there was lots of cursing under my breath and hating the people who designed the kit for, I don't know, 20th century houses or whatever.
High ceilings and tall windows are so charming!*
*only in the summer time
Yesterday Auden was horsing around in the front parlor doing who-knows-what while I was in the kitchen having a snack with Isla. Moments later I heard the unmistakable crash, tinkle of a window breaking.
By the time I came out, he was already mid-flow in a steady stream of I'm sorry's, as if to physically retract what had just happened. Which was that he threw some duplo legos up in the air, and instead of going up, they went over there, to that window. That window with no plastic on it yet.
I'm not sure how old a window has to be in order to be broken by hollow plastic blocks, but I'm guessing pretty old. If the wavy uneven funhouse-mirror effect of glass returning to its liquid state is any indication, I'd say it was pretty old. If the drafty joints and rotting sashes are any clue at all, I'd say.... okay, you get the point. This house was built in 1890, maybe these windows are originals!
So now you can see them, the Telltale Legos, lying between the inside pane and the outside storm window, surrounded by shards of broken glass; sad, forlorn, maybe a little guilty. The storm window keeps the weather from totally coming in, but the irony of the timing of this accident is pretty poetic. The plastic is fairly laughing at me from its heap, not three feet away. And of course now I can't finish weatherproofing until the carpenter comes to fix the window and replace it.
On Monday.
Happy Weekend, to you too!
*
Have you ever found yourself in the middle of a project that has pretty much sucked from the start, and has steadily gotten worse and worse to the point where you're questioning how worth it is to finish, but the reason you can't stop now is because LOOK HOW MUCH TIME I HAVE PUT IN ALREADY. Giving up now is like losing to Father Time. Regret, woe, wrinkle cream ensue.
It has taken an embarrassing amount of time to weatherproof the windows. Fortunately for us, the winter has been unseasonably mild, but really that's just another excuse for why I don't have to finish weatherproofing the windows TODAY. So the plastic has been lying in a heap in the front parlor all week, partially obscured by books and toys and shame.
The only fun part of this process is using the hairdryer to shrink-fit the plastic so it's tight as a drum across the window. Sadly, that accounts for the last 90 seconds of two hours' worth of work getting the tape up and cutting plastic sheets to fit the windows. This took twice as long for me because our windows are 64" high and the plastic is only 62" long. I ended up using the double-sided tape to add extensions to the bottom of each panel, but there was lots of cursing under my breath and hating the people who designed the kit for, I don't know, 20th century houses or whatever.
High ceilings and tall windows are so charming!*
*only in the summer time
Yesterday Auden was horsing around in the front parlor doing who-knows-what while I was in the kitchen having a snack with Isla. Moments later I heard the unmistakable crash, tinkle of a window breaking.
By the time I came out, he was already mid-flow in a steady stream of I'm sorry's, as if to physically retract what had just happened. Which was that he threw some duplo legos up in the air, and instead of going up, they went over there, to that window. That window with no plastic on it yet.
I'm not sure how old a window has to be in order to be broken by hollow plastic blocks, but I'm guessing pretty old. If the wavy uneven funhouse-mirror effect of glass returning to its liquid state is any indication, I'd say it was pretty old. If the drafty joints and rotting sashes are any clue at all, I'd say.... okay, you get the point. This house was built in 1890, maybe these windows are originals!
So now you can see them, the Telltale Legos, lying between the inside pane and the outside storm window, surrounded by shards of broken glass; sad, forlorn, maybe a little guilty. The storm window keeps the weather from totally coming in, but the irony of the timing of this accident is pretty poetic. The plastic is fairly laughing at me from its heap, not three feet away. And of course now I can't finish weatherproofing until the carpenter comes to fix the window and replace it.
On Monday.
Happy Weekend, to you too!
*
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