A new start in 2017

Happy New Year everyone! Yes I know that's a bit late, but we are trying hard to shake off the fun and lazy days of winter break and get back in the routine of waking up early to report to work and school. Since my daughter was home on break, I gave up on the idea that I'd get any real work done and took that time off leading up to Christmas to devote to family. As much as I love painting, I had such a sweet time hanging with my daughter.

Nevertheless, there is a time and a season, and now I'm back to work and it's time for some art! We are settling into winter in Virginia, and it's prime time for hibernating and lot more work in the studio. I have done a lot of small works this past summer and fall, so I'm upping the scale for a while inside.  I'm starting out by picking back up with the James River Park theme.  This is a 24x30" piece of the section of the park known as Pony Pasture. I painted a small piece at roughly the same location in the fall, though this new view is what I saw when I turned my head to the left.

I like this idea of peeking out at the river through the trees. We will see if what I have in my mind can be successfully executed on canvas.

One of my favorite things about locations along the river banks are the trees. Years of the water's ebb and flow at the river's edge has left many of the tree roots bare. Roots stretch out like tentacles clutching the land, and yet these large trees manage to hang on.

Happy 2014! A glance back and a look ahead

Happy New Year everyone! I'll be sharing my final post on the Tuscany painting I've been working on later this week. But since this is the first day of a brand new year, I thought I'd write about my one single solitary goal for this year. It isn't really even art-related, though it affects my art and pretty much everything else in my life. So I hope you bear with me while I meander off the art topic for a moment to tell you what it is:

To feel good.

I have alluded to my health struggles a couple of times on this blog, but since my goal will likely require a period of absence from posting, I feel like an explanation is due. After the birth of my daughter I was challenged with an autoimmune condition. While thankfully it isn't usually life-threatening, it can really diminish the quality of life, and, for the past three years, wellness has eluded me. In fact, I can count on two hands the days when I have woken up in the morning without chronic pain and utter, utter exhaustion. Layer on top of that a high energy tot who deserves time/love/attention from Mama, and the guilt and regret of not being able to give my all, either to her or to my former workhorse standards in my art career, and you have lots of gaps in studio hours and blog posts, and a lot of feeling not so good about myself in general.

In spite of all of that, 2013 was a phenomenal year for me, career-wise (go figure!) Some really neat show opportunities, and a big jump in sales made last year one of my best since the "bottom went out" in 2008. The Tuscan Sun Wine label project kicked off 2013 and came to me completely unexpectedly. It was a really exciting opportunity for which I feel extremely grateful and proud. But it required a tremendous amount of work in a very short window, and during that whole project I basically ran on fumes (and coffee). It was probably not the best thing I could have done for my health, but I just "powered through", waking at 5 am to work before the roosters (and my own little chickadee) rose, regardless of how little sleep I had gotten or how lousy I felt.

It's all worked out and I feel wonderfully blessed in my life. But I'm at a point where I'm really tired of "powering through", and I'm coming to realize that working smarter, not harder is not a "want" but an absolute must. This means taking some REAL time for some self care and really paying attention to managing my stress and health. Otherwise, I am not going to be able to maintain much of an art career or be a very good wife or mother, either.

I've had incremental health improvements in the past year, but I still have many, many days where I will take a nosedive and I can find nothing in particular that I have done to cause it. So starting next week I will be embarking on a month-long elimination diet, designed to identify foods that I may have unwittingly become sensitized to. I've had some "food allergy" suspicions lately and I have, for some, time eliminated gluten. But for the next month I'll add dairy, sugar and alcohol, legumes, and grains to that list of no-no's. If you want to know what's left to eat, you can read more about my game plan here. Now, I am a former vegetarian and I love my dark chocolate, my cheese and my good glass of red wine (hey, what can I say? I'm half French) so this whole concept ain't an easy one to swallow, so to speak. I already consider myself a pretty healthy eater, but this way of eating is going require a whole lot more time and effort. More cooking, a lot more planning, and I won't have all of those starches I relied upon to round out my family's meals (and get it quickly on the table).

So January is going to be all about food logs and meal plans and sourcing grass-fed, pastured what-nots, and less (or maybe none) about painting. It's possible my energy could go through the roof and I'll have so much excess that I won't be able to keep myself away from the easel. (Wouldn't that be nice?) But it's just as likely that things will get worse before they get better, so starting next Monday I'm giving myself a pass, officially, on painting for the next 30 or so days. Hopefully it will take less time than that for things to normalize, but I just don't know. In any event, it's my hope that the effort will be worth it and that I will be at least on the road to becoming a stronger, better, healthier happier person (and thus being a better, more focused artist.) And speaking of health and happiness, here's a gluten, alcohol, sugar-free (and then some) toast to yours in 2014 too!

Post- Paint Annapolis

Sorry to say, my blog has suffered a bit from benign neglect since I left for my travels a few weeks ago. Rain and 30 mile/hr wind consumed most of our beach vacation, so while it was still beautiful, there was no chance of painting boats or coastal motifs before the Paint Annapolis competition that followed just a week later. Paint Annapolis itself was fun and enlightening, but since I am still dealing with shoulder tendinitis and pain, it was physically stressful and pretty exhausting. For the first two days, it seemed that I had brought the crappy weather I'd had at the beach right along with me up to the Annapolis event. The weather did turn beautiful during the last portion, but I think I kind of "blew myself out" trying to get something interesting down early on while the weather was gray and the light exceedingly flat.

The previous paragraph makes it sound like I didn't enjoy myself at all, but that was not the case! In fact, while I didn't come home with any prizes, I still received a lot of reward. My early struggles notwithstanding, the city of Annapolis is charming. I had a lovely host for the event, and everyone I encountered in the event organization, and even in the town at large, was warm and friendly. AND I'm delighted to say that I sold a study right from the easel!  :-)  I also found myself among some incredibly talented painters and it was truly inspiring to see so much fine work being produced by my contemporaries. Almost all of the artists were friendly, uplifting, and inclusive, making the atmosphere feel more like a (highly motivated) community than a competition.  So much so, in fact, that by the time it was all over with, in spite of my exhaustion, I was actually sad to see it end.

"A Banner Day", Oil on linen, 12x12"

As a painter, I also I learned a lot. I learned that if it isn't happening, don't force it. I learned that if the light is truly uninteresting, you're better off sleeping in a day or two and staying up at night to paint nocturnes!  I learned that in the overwhelm of an unfamiliar environment, I'd be much better off painting simple studies successfully than failing at capturing a very complicated scene. I learned that even in the anxiety of knowing you only have 3 days to paint,  you really do have to pace yourself, take care of yourself, be kind to yourself, and give your mind and body enough time to rest and relax. And I learned that all of the things I thought I knew can so easily fall by the wayside in this thing called "competition".

As is usually the case with me, I learned much of this more through error than through trial. In a way, the lessons I learned at the competition are only larger-than-life versions of the lessons I learn all the time through the act of plein air painting. These paintings can be like mini thrills-of-victory or agonies-of-defeat, though often they fall somewhere in between. Much is made of the victories (and with good reason) but for the painter who is fortunate enough to recognize it, they all hold value. The value lies in what you take away from it.

p.s. The painting posted was painted during the sunny portion of the event. It's from the quick draw called "Dueling Brushes". Please contact me for purchase inquiries. I posted about this event also last year and you can read my account here.

Important/ Not Urgent (a long post on the long view)

"Tuscan Patchwork", Oil on canvas, 6x8" (SOLD) ©Jennifer Young

Not much painting this week. After briefly traveling to Texas for a long weekend celebrating my mom's birthday (happy 80th Mom!) I returned to spend the week FINALLY tackling the mountain of paperwork I've had on my "to-do" list for some time.

I used to think I was pretty organized in my art business, but lately I feel like I am forever playing "catch up". There was a time during my studio move when I was literally operating out of boxes. But I'm all set up now and I really can't blame my floundering on the move any more. The only explanation I really have to offer is that during my little break from the routine I'd set up for myself, I developed the bad habit of....well....not having a routine!

White Road in Val d'Orcia", Oil, 6x8" (SOLD) ©Jennifer Young

I recall a conversation I had some time ago with a gallery owner. I was admiring the work of a fellow artist in the gallery and commenting on how much this artist's work had grown and matured. The gallery owner agreed. They were good paintings, and popular with collectors too. If only they could get the artist to give them more work!

As it turned out, the artist had just recently changed from being a part-time painter with a day job to being an artist full-time. Only, this person was anything but, watching movies, surfing the net--doing most anything rather than painting. According to the gallery owner, ironically, once given the luxury of unlimited time, the artist's productivity plummeted. I could understand this.

So many artists I know can so easily get into the habit of working toward deadlines. But when no deadline looms, (no shows, openings, classes or other projects on the horizon) their commitment (and often their work) can languish. I'm sure all working artists with kids and/or day-jobs everywhere are playing the world's tiniest violin in sympathy! But there is something to be said for having externally imposed time limits.

Of course there are many possible reasons why artists don't create (such as emotional constraints brought on by fear, insecurity, depression, etc.) But when I had a day job, I was forced to carve out a finite amount of time in which to do my creative work, and looking back I am amazed at how productive I was. I remember being up until 2 a.m. painting, even after a full day of work at the bank, going to the gym, showering, and scraping together some dinner (I also remember being single then, and younger too!) Of course, I lamented not having more time to paint, but at the same time, my time limitations lit a fire under me to make the most of each window of opportunity.

But once I started working full time at my painting, I, too, languished for a time due to complete lack of structure and many, many distractions around the home studio. Being the ADD sort that has many other interests doesn't help!  What did finally help me was that I began to structure my business in such a way that it set external limitations and schedule requirements. But I may have overdone it a bit. I traveled a lot, I maintained a rigorous work schedule to supply work to the 8 galleries I was working with at the time. And when that wasn't enough busy-ness for me, I taught classes, maintained my website and blog, and eventually opened a studio-gallery with monthly shows.

But here's the thing. Even though for a while, the money was good and the trips were fun, ultimately this "system" didn't work for me either. Everything was urgent and important, and constantly being in emergency mode was like going from zero to 100 with no brake in between. And you know what can happen when you speed along at 100 miles/hour? Crash. (Of course you can also crash going 20 miles/hour, but it doesn't hurt nearly as much.)

A part of me began to realize what I was doing, so I began eliminating again. Fewer galleries, fewer trips, and eventually letting go of the downtown space and again setting up a home studio. But what I hadn't realized (or had forgotten) was that eliminating  much of the externally imposed deadlines and obligations without creating an internal structure to replace it would leave me feeling more lost and disorganized than "free."

Many of you readers out there are probably familiar with Stephen Covey's book The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. It's become a real classic in the business/success genre, and I'd heard his audio version many years ago but had rather forgotten about it until recently. My favorite part of the book is "Habit 3: Putting First Things First," which includes his famous "Time Management Matrix":

According to Covey, Quadrant II is the place where "successful people" spend the bulk of their time. This Quadrant is filled with proactive things like planning and prevention, as well as growth activities like relationships and recreation (and many creative pursuits!) Instead, Quadrant I tends to be where most people spend their time (crises, deadlines, etc. --AKA emergency mode.) I don't think I'd be too far afield if I said that there are many artists who hang out in this quadrant. I've seen it in myself, and I have known many artists, both professionals and beginners who do not even work at all unless they have an external deadline to work toward (art exhibit, workshop, etc.)

Having externally motivated goals isn't always a bad thing. But, at least for me, it's dangerous if it becomes too much of a habit. In fact, some of us can get so addicted to emergencies (ahem!) that we tend to put off Quadrant II activities until they become Quadrant I activities. And then we get so freaked out and exhausted that we escape to Quadrant IV!

If you're still with me, I'll tell you what all of this Quadrant stuff has to do with art (or at least my art.) Pretty much every goal I have as an artist and as an individual has associated tasks that can ideally be categorized as a Quadrant II activities-- from health goals like proper diet, exercise and adequate sleep, to artistic goals like x number of plein air paintings/ week, and things like experimenting with different mediums, subject matter, or techniques. And if the tasks are managed properly from the get-go, they need never become "urgent" Quadrant I's.

Quadrant I stuff happens. Sometimes even in spite of their best efforts, people lose their jobs, get sick, or just plain forget to deal with things. But while not every emergency is predictable or preventable, I am fortunate to be able to say that, at least at this time, many of them are.  I can prevent stress by getting adequate sleep and exercise. I can prevent freaking out before a show or a workshop by planning and/or preparing for it with a calm and steady production flow in advance. I can position myself for success and future opportunities, even if right now business has slowed. For me, the most obvious path to keeping myself focused on important things before they become urgent, is to create a daily schedule that whittles away Quadrant I and includes as many Quadrant II actvities as possible. I've mentioned this before, but here's the key; you gotta stick to it! In short, it's called discipline. And the last time I checked, discipline requires commitment, not just saying "I'll try."

Ultimately the whole art/artist thing wreaks to high heaven of Quadrant II. I'd venture to say that even for those of us who depend on their art sales as their sole source of income, the vast majority of artists are doing their work first and foremost out of love for it. After all, if it were just about the cash, there are many more efficient ways of making more money in less time.

Will we die without being able to create our art? Will others die without being able to experience it? Well, in reality art doesn't have that kind of urgency. But if life is to be truly enjoyed, we have to move beyond merely surviving to thriving, which for me includes being uplifted, challenged, or inspired. That's the benefit of art, and in that way, it is so very important.

p.s. By the way...I did manage to eek out a couple of small Tuscany studies, playing with the idea of pattern, above. 

Willow in back-light

This week is bringing us some gorgeous weather here in central Virginia, so on the way home from the farmer's market last night, I took a detour and decided to keep a recent promise that I made to myself. I returned to Young's Pond to paint the evening scene I'd scouted out when I was there the prior week for a morning painting session:

Willow in Back-light" Oil on Canvas, 12x16" ©Jennifer Young

Having already conceptualized what I was going to paint in advance, I set up quickly and dove right into the painting. It was a good thing, too. Even though I started relatively early in the evening (5 PM) all of that beautiful back-lighting did not last. After about an hour and a half, the sun sank quickly behind the trees on the distant hill, and took all of that beautiful back-lighting with him!

Luckily I got the painting about 90% complete. As I later told my husband, "I had the essence but not the poetry". This is what I hoped for as I worked on the final 10% immediately after I returned home to the studio (while everything was still fresh in my mind). Mainly it was just a matter of softening some edges and adjusting a value here and there, (and trying not to do too much for fear of losing the essence!)

12x16" is not a huge painting, but it's the largest I've done in plein air in a while. One of my goals (goal number 274!) is to increase my plein air sizes beyond 12x16" or even 16x20". With more canvas to cover, it may require multiple visits to the same site at the same time of day, but it would be interesting to see how far I could push it. We'll see...I have the whole summer ahead of me yet.