The Notched-Ear Bunny

A desert cottontail that frequents our small desert yard is one I've nicknamed The Notched-Ear Bunny.

You can't see the notch -- it's on the outside of his right ear which is hidden behind my hand as I offer him a piece of apple.

As you can see, he's a little bolder than most of the bunnies around here -- he'll cautiously come up to me to see if I have an apple piece to give him. He'll take it from my fingers, then run off a short ways to eat it as he keeps an eye on me. Just taking a picture of him was enough to make him run off, although he came right back.

In some ways, bunnies coming up to human beans isn't a good thing for bunnies to do, but it did work to his advantage on one occasion.

Some months ago, I noticed he had a cactus spine stuck in his head above his eye. Normally, bunnies just grab spines in their teeth and pull them out. But there was no way for him to get at this one. And when he got into scuffles with other bunnies (they sit up on their hindlegs and rapidly scratch at each others' faces with their forepaws), The Notched-Ear Bunny would actually scream out in pain. I'm sure it didn't feel good to have a paw brush down against a spine embedded in his head.

Finally one day, he came over looking for apple goodies, and I thought: now's my chance to remove the spine! When he came for the apple, I was able to reach over with my other hand and, after three tries, grabbed the spine and pulled it out. I suspect, in his own way, he appreciated what I did, and this simple act made me feel like a hero or somethin'! And he got his piece of apple when he returned the fourth time, sans spine.

If The Notched-Ear Bunny had never developed the habit of coming over to me for hand-held goodies, I could never have done this for him.

And he's still around, begging for apple goodies. Today, I gave him two. I thought he deserved them.

Inspiration from Classical Music

I listen to all kinds of music. But generally, I turn to classical music to help me think about moods when I want to paint.

One example is the music of Claude Debussy, a 19th century French composer. He has been described as a sort of impressionist: he was to music what Monet was to painting. I’m not sure I’d go along with that viewpoint, but Debussy certainly had a gift for writing music and developing chord structure that seems to form images in my mind. I’m thinking particularly about Claire de Lune or his Three Nocturnes, all which produce themes of moonlight on the landscape, clouds drifting across the sky or the haunting, irresistable voices of the sirens from Greek mythology.

On top of all that, my first Debussy recording, a 12″ LP on vinyl, has an amazing photograph on the cover where you are looking across still water toward a softly-focused forest at night with a distant nude female (a water nymph?) standing by the water’s edge. I’ve always loved that photo, and very soon I want to start a painting that will be loosely based on that pic. It will be my own image, but the inspiration for it will be driven by the photo and the magical, mystical music of Claude Debussy.

And besides — I love the moonlight! It’ll all be perfect! I can’t wait to get started.

Plodding Along

One nice thing about knowing I'll be getting a paycheck next week: I'm running low on art supplies, and I'll need to buy more!

Teaching aside, I'm continuing to make art as time (and awakeness) permit.

I've been in touch with a number of artists I know who work in a traditional/classical style, as I do. We're all singing the same tune: art sales are down. We're not entering as many art shows -- too much money up front at a time when the risk is simply too high. Galleries aren't selling well, either.

So we're all painting and trying to survive as best we can. The other artists congratulated me on getting the teaching job, especially during this economy. I'd have to agree -- it could be much worse.

And I'll keep plodding along, painting new subjects and -- more than likely -- storing the newer works until money and art are changing hands again. I'm sure it will -- someday.

Any Eccentric Millionaires Out There?

The "part time" teaching job has sure cut into my art-making time! I'm sure anyone with a teaching background can tell you about the all of the extra stuff teachers have to do on their own time -- and I'm finding it's true even at the community college level.

Not that I haven't been involved in art-related activities -- I posted a question on one of the online forums I belong to about whether or not classical/tradition realism has much of a market in this country. I know the economy has been bad, but some artists continue to do very well. Yet, the gallery I'm in hasn't sold anything of mine since April, 2009 -- almost a year!

That is NOT a confidence builder!

So I'll continue to bide my time, painting when I can but looking to see what I need to do to make my paintings irresistable to buyers. So far, my thoughts are to keep painting in a classical manner but not restrict myself to desert painting -- maybe the market for desert/Southwest subjects isn't there anymore.

I have ideas for what I want to paint -- now I just need the time to do them.

I think I need an eccentric millionaire to leave us a bundle of money so we can pursure the lives we want without the financial pressure to produce-produce-produce and sell-sell-sell.

Anyone out there know any eccentric millionaires?

Wadda Difference a Week Makes

Last week it was short-sleeve weather, albeit a bit on the cool side.

This week -- rain and snow in the high desert! All week!

The El Niño thing has clearly arrived. In some ways, it's good -- California really needs the rain. Unfortunately, the rain comes all at once, and sometimes it's a bit much to deal with.

And as much as I hate being in the snow, I'll have to admit it is pretty -- and makes for fun paintings.

The photo shows the distant hills of Joshua Tree National Park as seen across the valley in our little town. I could see using the hills (without the buildings in the foreground) in some dramatic desert scenes, complete with snow-covered Joshua trees as they sleep through the winter storms.

More Changes

I'm changing my status as a full-time artist to a part-time artist.

Because I'm now a part-time microbiology instructor at the local community college.

I have done some teaching in years past, and I have a Masters (and a Bachelor) degree in microbiology. But I've been away from the field for quite a while, and I've never even attended this college, let alone taught there.

So I've got a lot to catch up on, both regarding the subject and what the college wants me to do in class and in knowing how things work there. My painting will slow down for a while until I'm up to speed as a teacher.

But overall, I think this will be a good thing, as overwhelming as it feels right now. I'll be freed from the need to crank out paintings in the hopes they'll sell. Instead, I can take my time on artwork and make them irresistably beautiful. Sometimes, art suffers when one does it for a living and is still trying to emerge from the masses of artists out there.

I'll lose some painting time, but the paintings that result will be better. It'll be worth it in the end!

Continuing the Direction

If you read my last post, you noticed I'm considering adding abstract and surrealism to my usual types of painting.

Well, I have an abstract painting in progress now, and so far, I'd have to say there's a little more to it than what meets the eye.

While I do believe it takes more effort, skill and time to make the kind of paintings I do, abstract art involves more than "slopping" paint on a canvas, which is how I've sometimes heard the process described. There is obviously a way of doing it that provides a piece which is still interesting to look at. Admittedly, I'm more concerned with using color and making the paintings "pretty" so people will want them. But working out textures and many overlays of color is the part that is eluding me at this time.

So for now, I decided to put that painting aside and begin working on a work that shows Balboa Park in San Diego, CA. At least it'll be a non-desert piece, but it will be quite classical in it's look --- I'd say in the Dutch tradition. I hope it'll find a home, most likely in a show or gallery in San Diego or La Jolla.

Wish me luck!