Random thoughts in red

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From what I have observed bloggers are awake at all sorts of hours.

So when ever I log on I am in good company.

We went for a two mile walk tonight just to the store and back.

The railroad track lights went on so I thought we should hurry and get across the tracks before the train came.

There was no train. We waited and it never came.

Weired.

The other day we went and played tennis.

A chicken walks by.

We were pretty much done playing so we follow this chicken and it keeps going straight.

I ask “where is this chicken going?”

My daughter responds “You know where he’s going don’t you?”

I said, where?

He’s going to cross the road.

Hense why did the chicken cross the road?

All of the photographs I put on my blog I have taken myself. I take pictures all the time it’s second nature for me. Get to know me through my photos

Virtuosity has it’s limits.

“No one paints likes this today because no one can paint like this today.”

Frank Wright

A quote from The Artist Magazine in 2007 “Never the less, we can study and emulate an artist of such great technical ability and power.” Madame Moitessier. completed in 1856 by Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres.

This comment has hit me hard. I can’t disagree with it but I don’t agree. Some part of me as an artist has woken up.

In 1844 Ingres was approached through an intermediary with the idea of painting her portrait. Reluctant at this stage in his career to accept portrait commissions—he considered portraiture to be a lower form of art than history-painting—he initially refused Sigisbert’s request. However, when Ingres met Madame Moitessier, he was struck by her Junoesque beauty and agreed to produce a portrait.

The weather proclamation after Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow is six more weeks of winter.

Oh yeah!

In a speech in Wisconsin on Thursday, President Barack Obama insulted perhaps the most fervent members of his political base: art history majors. “But I promise you, folks can make a lot more, potentially, with skilled manufacturing or the trades than they might with an art history degree,” Obama declared. “Now, nothing wrong with an art history degree — I love art history,” he then swore.

It is Sunday we go out for donuts if we can. You know it takes time to pick out the right ones even though it’s the usual. When we were done and came around I didn’t realize there was someone waiting in line and gave a short apology. They looked on and laughed as my son who stood right behind them carried the box of donuts and on top a can of fancy feast for the cat. We can’t forget the cat.

I’m sitting here contemplating my painting from a distance. The painting looks good for a moment. Little needs to be done and completion is not so far away. I learned some stuff from what I’ve been reading lately and I am better for it. They say artists make the mistake of painting everything in sharp focus. And that our eyes can not see everything in focus all at once.

Simply said.

So now I’m trying to understand the main focal point. I’m adding detail to the foreground where I want to add light and attention but some of that other stuff can stay as paint interesting enough as is.

Painting is problem solving once I solve all the problems I stop.

He was a dandy, an eccentric, and argumentative.

I like reading about artists especially when the writer can kind of reveal their unique sort of personalities. This is an excerpts from an old paperback book I fell upon called Sargent, Whistler and Mary Cassatt by Frederick A. Sweet.

John Singer Sargent was a great raconteur and always delighted his sitters as well as his dinner hostesses with his charming manner and ingratiating conversation.

James McNeill Whistler was equally fond of dining out but drove his hostess to distraction by arriving an hour late or engaging in a near brawl with a fellow guest. He was a wit with the sharpest of tongues, a dandy, an eccentric, an argumentative, impractical, conceited and clever sort of genius.

Mary Cassatt was also a brilliant talker, in fact talked incessantly, loved to argue, was very opinionated, stubborn, quick to anger but soon forgot what she had been angry about. She liked the company of men and discussion of politics. She did not care for formal society even though she herself belong to it and maintained all the appurtenances fo gracious living. She had strong opinions about art, artists and collectors and expressed herself freely and often violently on the subject.

These sound like some people I know artists and non artists. stereotypical or is it just our human nature?
Reminds me of a saying…

Beware of artists

They mix with all classes
of society and are therefore
the most dangerous.