Back to Basics

 

A garden harvest!

Summer is flying past and it's shaping up to be a busy fall with upcoming art shows. I'm excited! But sometimes I can get a little overwhelmed with all of the things that I need to do. When I start to feel lost, I reel myself back in through a couple of means. 

The first is my garden. Thanks to my parents, I've always had a garden of some sort since childhood. Sometimes it was a modest set up, such as pots on my apartment balcony in Wisconsin or a shared community garden plot in Maryland. Now, I'm pleased to have a wonderful backyard oasis in Knoxville, Tennessee. The photo above shows a recent harvest. We have massive fig trees and all of the flowers you see pictured I started from seed in our basement back in March. 

The other way I marshal myself during busy times is by getting "back to basics" with my work. Nothing grounds me and calms me more than picking up a stick of charcoal and working out my ideas with some inexpensive newsprint paper. It's very freeing and I find that it makes it easier for me to tackle more complicated ideas, such as this recent cityscape, "Focus!"

Focus!

30 x 40 inch oil on canvas

I had this idea from an outing to New York City for quite a while, but I needed to mull it over before I dove into it because of the subtleties of light and shadow. The best way for me to "break the glass" on this motif was to begin with vine charcoal sketches. Shown here are a couple of the initial sketches I made to map out this idea in my mind before taking up a paintbrush. 

I also like to use color maps to envision the overall values before I start mixing up paint. Shown below is the small map that I used to guide me throughout the creation of this painting. 

Once I have these details set in my mind's eye, I'm ready to jump into the actual painting. And a great representational painting always has an abstract foundation, as you can see here in this video clip: The Initial Block-In

Thanks to my garden and some sticks of charcoal, I'm able to juggle quite a bit during a busy time. Sometimes, getting back to basics is a good thing!

Small and Big Things in the Works

A mini 8 x 8 inch original oil on canvas serves as a study
for 30 x 30 inch "Splashdown" in progress on my easel behind it.

 

I'm on the precipice of my last outdoor, out-of-state art show this weekend: the Bethesda Row Fine Arts Festival in Bethesda, Maryland. The weather forecast looks a little rainy, but I'm not complaining. I am just so grateful to have my in-person art shows back after the pandemic lockdown of 2020. Hooray for vaccines!

I didn't resume exhibiting in art shows until this past August, so it's been a compressed season and a crazy busy one at that. As I wrap up my interstate travels, I am very grateful for everyone who has come out in force over these recent months to support my artwork. I missed seeing you in 2020, but your online support allowed me to continue creating during a difficult time. Thank you!

Even though my abbreviated interstate art show season will conclude this weekend, I'm excited about the months ahead. I'm tentatively planning a trip to my old home state of Pennsylvania to visit family and to gather inspiration from the beautiful landscape there. I'm also looking forward to focusing on some overdue commission work for a few clients and I'm already at work on this year's "25 Days of Minis" original oil paintings that I will debut beginning on December 1. And I'll have a couple of local events in my hometown of Knoxville, Tennessee in December. 

Stay tuned for more updates!

Making Sense

My field easel in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park while I work on my continuing series of plein air paintings from the park. Shown below is the finished piece, Great Smoky Mountains No 7 - Emerald.

As bad news pours into our lives during this challenging era for our nation, I'm using my "safer at home" time to to revisit why I paint. I'm not going to wax philosophical, but I want to say that especially now, I want to share with you the beauty of what surrounds us. As an artist, this is how I can contribute something positive to our world, and there's definitely an urgency to remember that there are still good things around us, even in these difficult times.

Great Smoky Mountains No. 7 - Emerald, 8 x 16 inch oil plein air oil on panel.

To cope with everything that's been happening, I've been visiting state parks in eastern Tennessee as well as the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. Shown above is a new addition to my ongoing series of plein air works from the park, "Emerald." Being outside in natural beauty restores my balance, and who couldn't use a little more equilibrium nowadays? 

While my art show van sits idle in our driveway (eye roll), I've been catching up on some reading this summer.

In addition, I've certainly had more time to read since I'm not traveling to my usual schedule of outdoor art shows. I recently picked up John Barry's The Great Influenza, originally published in 2005, and now back on the best-seller list. Hmm, I wonder why? What I'm learning is that we are repeating our own pandemic history, but not the good parts, unfortunately.

Finally, I turn to a poem that I've often leaned on during bad times. When I was a young child my Dad shared The Desiderata with me, a poem that he said shaped his view of the world. According to the venerable Wikipedia, it was first penned in 1920 by Max Ehrmann, just a couple of years after the 1918 flu pandemic. To me, it's more relevant now than ever before in my life:

Desiderata

Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons.

Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexatious to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter, for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass. Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.

Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul. With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.

Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

Staycation 2020

Above, Work-in-progress: Plein air painting in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park along the Middle Prong River.

With my outdoor art shows cancelled for the foreseeable future, I'm turning my artistic focus to inspiration close to home for this summer.

It's Staycation 2020, and I'm pretty good with it because ever since moving to Knoxville, Tennessee two years ago, I've had very little time to explore our area due to major life events and myriad tasks associated with resettling after a cross-country move. The pandemic has put a pause on my usual work and life routines, and that may be an OK thing.

This upheaval has pushed me to develop new ways of doing things. Just last week, I wrapped up my first online tour of my painting studio in Knoxville, Tennessee as part of the Rittenhouse Square Fine Art Show Virtual Edition. My next virtual art show will be a live studio show with my new paintings on Thursday, July 9 at 8pm EST. Then I'll partner with the Rehoboth Art League in August, later this summer.

Throughout this summer, although I won't be traveling to my usual outdoor art exhibitions, I'm looking forward to delving into east Tennessee's state parks, history and culture through my artwork. I hope to have my outdoor art shows back in 2021, but until then I'll share my artwork with you "virtually" each week, beginning with this new addition to my Great Smoky Mountains plein air series, shown below.

Great Smoky Mountains No. 6 - Balance

Home Studio Tour

This Friday, June 5 at noon EST I'll give a tour of my home art studio in Knoxville, Tennessee for the Rittenhouse Square Fine Art Virtual Show. With the pandemic and the civil unrest confronting our nation, the show has gone on, just online this year and I'm excited to share what I've been working on during recent months.

Shown here is a time lapse video of a landscape painting in progress from eastern Tennessee. One positive thing about staying closer to home this summer is that - after two years in Tennessee - my husband and I are finally getting a chance to venture out and explore the beautiful surrounding state parks.

During the home studio tour, I'll explain more about my process and share some of my latest paintings. I'll share a behind-the-scenes look at my painting process, from start to finish, and answer your questions. Sign up for free on the Rittenhouse Square Fine Art Virtual Show web site.

An Action-Packed Year

My Art Show / Moving Van
Before our official move, I made a couple of trips up and down
I-81 to move much of my studio materials myself.

Today marks the one-year anniversary of our official arrival in Tennessee from Pennsylvania. One year ago today, my husband, Tim, and I landed at our house with just our suitcases, our two dogs, and a couple of air mattresses until our moving van and household contents arrived the following day.

And, yikes, what a year it has been. If you can picture some of the dime store comic books of yesteryear, 2018 smacked us across the faces with a larger-than-life "Ka-Pow" like a Batman and Robin adventure.

To be candid, it's been one of the most difficult years of my life and definitely one of the most challenging of our married life together. The day our moving van arrived to load up our belongings in Pennsylvania during a torrential downpour, my father-in-law was hospitalized in Illinois. He died within a month. Shortly after our arrival in Tennessee, our oldest dog and my field painting companion, Maple, was diagnosed with elbow dysplasia, severely limiting her mobility.

Even before we officially moved in, there was the menace of the old house we bought. Prior to our official arrival in May, the air handler unit over the kitchen leaked, and condensation poured into the kitchen ceiling over a period of weeks while we were blissfully unaware and wrapping up the sale of our home in Pennsylvania. We fixed that upon our arrival, but the year rolled on and we soon realized that we were painfully naive about old house ownership. For every one thing we knew would need repair, there were at least two additional issues, everything from an old, buried fuel oil tank to a full property length retaining wall that had to be replaced after record rainfall in February, right on down to a leaky shower that had rotted the joists of the first floor over a period of years. Truly, throughout this past year, there has not been one single week without a contractor to our house to repair or replace something. And late last year, my Dad was briefly hospitalized following a series of mild heart attacks. He has recovered, thankfully, but I think you get the general idea of why this transition has been a bumpy one.

I was of mixed mind about moving to Tennessee. I wanted a new adventure, I just wasn't sure that I could see myself in Tennessee (aka, the South). After a year here, I'm starting to "see" myself better in Tennessee. I've begun to discover some beautiful parks and scenery, plus I like the city of Knoxville because there's much more to do here than there was in central Pennsylvania. And, of course, 2018 was not all bad. We enjoyed some fantastic performances by the Knoxville Symphony Orchestra and attended some great shows at the gorgeous Tennessee Theater. In addition, the downtown farmer's market is a wonderful destination throughout the growing season.

Oh, and our old house? Welp, she's in much better shape than she was a year ago. Uff dah!

Nonetheless, I'm intent on making this second year in Tennessee calmer and better. I'm starting with a renewed focus on my artwork. Because my studio is in our home, the non-stop parade of repair people and contractors has been extremely disruptive to my work and creativity. I'm looking forward to exhibiting my artwork at a couple of upcoming outdoor art shows in the next few weeks, and then I'm taking most of this summer off just to hunker down in my studio and paint, in peace.

I'm very excited about this.

I'm looking forward to plowing more energy into my painting while exploring some changes in my painting style. Stay tuned.

Shorthand

Uff dah. It's been a while since I posted to this blog. In an era of online social media, we artists have to wear a lot of hats between web sites, blogs, Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and more. Earlier this year, I finally jumped into the year 2010 by creating an Instagram presence (@sarahpollockstudio) and I've actually been pretty good about keeping that up-to-date. In fact, if you're looking for the first dibs on my new pieces, Instagram is a great way to peek in at what I'm working on in my studio.

Anyways, rather than talking about my art online, I've been making it in my studio. I've been busy getting ready for my first art show of the season, the Rittenhouse Square Fine Art Show in Philadelphia. I'll exhibit my new pastel works at this event during the weekend of June 3-5, 2016, and I recently finished several new pieces in preparation for the show. In this post, I wanted to share a little more with you about the process behind some of these new pieces.

Color motivates my choice of subjects. After more than a decade of working in the pastel medium, I've found a process that allows me to quickly evaluate whether an idea will work successfully. I call it my shorthand, in honor of my Mom who had to learn actual shorthand in high school. Indeed, her first job was as a corporate secretary for a company in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. All these decades later, when she and I go to the Philadelphia Flower Show each spring, I still catch her writing in a small notepad using shorthand as she jots down ideas and inspiration.

Initial Shorthand for "Please Continue to Pull Forward," an eventual 12 x 24 pastel.

Final Piece: Please Continue to Pull Forward, 12 x 24 pastel.

My "shorthand" is a series of small color studies, some of which I've shared here. I learned this approach from Doug Dawson, a wonderful pastel artist and an outstanding teacher. He emphasized the importance of selecting just the most essential colors and values to convey a composition. And then sticking to them for as long as possible. Eliminate the superfluous and stay with the most essential ingredients.

In these initial studies, I think you'll see how just these tiny dabbles of thinking and planning link to the final, polished piece. Enjoy!

Initial Shorthand for "July Coda," an eventual 16 x 24 pastel.

Final Piece: July Coda, 16 x 24 pastel.

   

Initial Shorthand for "Capture," an eventual 12 x 18 pastel.

Final Piece: Capture, 12 x 18 pastel.