I no longer remember who dared me to finish three paintings apart from the other items on my list, which included completing BP's double CD and maintaining my blood pressure.
At that time, I boldly accepted the challenge, only because two years back, I had completed nine pieces in collaboration with my sister Monique, who was staging an exhibit of her ceramic work in Makati. How could I forget that what I had painted were mere backdrops for my sister's carefully shaped pieces of clay that were mounted on my canvases?
True to character, the last task I performed was the one I had dreaded the most. And why not? I had never completed on my own a painting on canvas (I have several abandoned pieces), primarily because I'm a pencil and pastel kind of guy.
But what the heck. Here are the three pieces (and Icar has been pressuring me to upload them). Products of just some nights' work during the last 2 weeks, but an interesting learning process for me.
This one is based on a photo I took of my niece Daphne last Christmas. She sat behind a table while defocused in the foreground was an empty goblet covering half her face and picking up some of the Christmas pin lights. I thought it was an interesting picture, but transferring the image onto canvas made me realize I do not like painting transparent things. Oh, and I dislike how quickly acrylic dries up. Maybe if I had taken up painting classes, I would not have to learn this the hard way. Maybe I should shift to oil.
In first year high school, our art teacher Lita Perez instructed us to take off our shoes and assemble them on our group work tables. We then painted some still life with poster color on cartolina while bearing the faint stench. Though I did poorly in that activity (heck, some of those around the same work table are now accomplished artists), I began to appreciate the beauty of crumpled leather, and have since been photographing and sketching shoes. These boots, I simply plopped onto my office table, so what you see is what I see every day from my desk (the couch, stuff on the ledge, and vertical blinds--sans the shoes, of course). So, ok, this was a pleasant painting exercise. I should begin to add insight to my paintings. This one is craving to know, But why? and So what?
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So I cheated. This painting of She I started as a belated birthday gift to Lou last January. But I quit because the work was getting schizo on me--the style is so confused. I tucked the work into a closet and revisited it a year later, noting I had barely 2 days before my deadline to accomplish what I had promised to do within the year. After lots of retouching last night and fresh from the easel thus, this painting is in search of style. I admit, I have to work on that badly. Nonetheless, happy birthday, Lou! You'll have something to look at while She is in U.K.
Mission accomplished. Not bad I guess. I've been surrounded by too many artists, so I learn via osmosis. In my family, all the kids have a natural art sense. Though only Eileen has been schooled at it (it was she who shoved them oil pastels into my hand when I was six) we all can draw (do we not remember those afternoon sessions drawing from Connie Gordon's ancient art books?). And the artists among my friends? Too many to mention.
My next fear? We'll be gathering the troops for dinner again this Friday, and who knows what I will be challenged to do now. As for me, I'm just trying to get my hands on whatever I can accomplish in a lifetime. Maybe there's an alternative career there somewhere waiting for me when I do get to retire. Painting may be an option. Oh, but that will be so many birthdays away from tomorrow when I turn 42.
