Monday, July 11, 2011

Words & Text[ure] by...Bob...and Bob

A sentimental journey... 
Before you read more, open an extra tab and listen to this song in the background 
[there's nothing to watch]. 
Go ahead, I'll wait.

I just completed this new portrait inspired by a young Bob Dylan. I thought about those early days in coffee houses...blues-y moods, dark rooms...sad songs.

I created a brick wall texture for the background and his coat and gave them a special dark texture. He's in shades of white, gray and black. All of the the type [verbiage] is black on white or white on black...with little bits of red. 
On top of that - a crazy coating of translucent blues to help pick up the blue mood.
Then, I considered songs from the 60's... to help me pick a title. I didn't like all the "hits," and picked this song. My brother, Robert [I called him Bob] was a fan of Dylan's. He was around during those days, and as I read through songs, the lyrics to this song made me think of my brother.

I like including words and writing in and on my work, so I scribbled the lyrics [and a few other choice words] on to tissue. I ripped the tissue into bits and applied it on top of the portrait...and spent more time painting and tinting until I incorporated my sadness into this work. I miss my brother, and putting these feelings, the words and texture into this particular portrait makes it very special to me.

"He Was a Friend of Mine"- Blues for Bob

Check out more of my work here: Schimmel Art Web Site

can't leave well enough alone...

I am one of those artists whose brains never shut off.
I am always thinking, considering, re-designing.

There is was, the brand new Jim Morrison inspired portrait.
Sitting in the studio, waiting for a final coat of lacquer.

I looked at it. "Something's wrong," I thought. "I just need to fix that one shadow, it's bugging me."

I fixed the shadow.
I stood back.
Now the other shadows seemed wrong.
So I fixed those.
You know, that shade of lavender is too light.
Out came the brushes...
Come to think of it, let me tint the blue too.
now the pink and orange are too light!

I stood back.
I liked the colors better, but I really wanted the eye to go
to the face.
So I did more.
A lot more.
Tinting, painting, glueing, until I had a composition I was happy with.

The same, but different.
Introducing, the "new and improved" portrait.
"Light My Fire" 

Thursday, July 7, 2011

An article I wrote for...

...another publication.
I was just submitting a story, and who knows if it will be published?!
So, since I already wrote it, I'll post it here.
Yeah, it's a little long.

How grateful am I!

It took time, it was a struggle, I still have a long way to go, but what I have learned is “it’s never too late to be what you might have been” - George Sand.

I was the quiet kid, drawing in my room...the weird teen-ager hanging out in the art room. But when it was time for college, my girlhood dreams did not find footing in the real world. Maybe it was my insecurity, the lack of encouragement, or the times...just prior to the women’s movement. And, the endless loop of “no one makes it as an artist.” My parents expected me to be a wife and mother - not a professional, certainly not an artist.

I thought I had talent, but I was a shy and quiet kid -actually pretty shy until 30.

So, I did a million other things instead. I worked my way up in retail, all the way to the buying offices and management, and then chucked it to be a display artist. Dressing mannequins and making beds and doing window displays was incredible. I opened a business doing displays, creating props, designing stores...but my partner and I were not always watching the bottom line, became exhausted and closed after 6 years.

I got married and put husband #1 through law school. So, “someone” had to have the “real” job. The one with a steady paycheck and benefits. I had a baby. So, now I am breadwinner, parent, housekeeper, cook... No time for art, no support from husband.

I ended up in nonprofit. But, always, I had room in my home for artsy stuff. Husband one moved my art room into a closet, then into the laundry room, then the car port. I moved my self out of the house.

I created a new life for myself. Single parent with an art filled house. I made funky lampshades, I painted murals, I broke tiles and made a mosaic countertop, I made my own shutters, I put together a chandelier. Those “itches” were fun, but never really a way that made me feel fulfilled.

Then, many years later, I met and married my dream husband. Adores me, supported my artistic dreams - built me a studio - gave me time and space to work and grow as an artist. A year into our marriage he said - the only way you’re going to make it is to put everything into it - quit your job!

I held my breathe and took the leap. No golden parachute. No trust fund. No MFA. We sacrificed a lot. No vacations, went from Kiehl’s to Oil of Olay. Ditched the suits and go to work in pajamas. Work, work work. Make art, find shows, galleries, sell, market, create a web site, pack, ship, file...oh yeah, and make dinner, do the laundry and help a kid through school.

I spend time every day in my studio. I spend time every day exploring every possibility - from researching galleries to looking for opportunities for pr, writing a blog, sending out emails, networking and planning art festivals [which includes filling out forms, applications - and then booking travel].

Today, my work is in several galleries in Los Angeles, Phoenix, Chicago and more... In museums, and in private and corporate collections throughout the world.

I had to accept the fact that I AM AN ARTIST. I didn’t need someone outside myself to tell me that. I appreciate my husband’s love and support. I put in the time, every day: dedication and focus to make this happen on my own terms, in my own way.

 What I have achieved is not an accident. And I am always excited about what’s next. I have more goals for myself, and am looking forward to more adventures!

I accepted: I didn’t need a professor, a degree or a family member to tell me what I knew inside...I am an artist. I am an artist because I say I am.

I love my life. I get to be who I am on a soul level every day. I have the love and support of my family. I love my family. I love my art. I love it when other people love my art.

I appreciate the opportunities. The opportunity love: to be a parent to the greatest kid and wife to greatest husband. The opportunity to make art, show art and sell art. The opportunity to help others.
My most rewarding achievements are: parenting, being a wife that loves and is loved, and finally having a career that I designed, doing what I love to do.

I am not perfect in this way - I don’t follow the rules. I am not sure I even know what the rules are. I do what I want, when I want, the way I want. Do you like what I do? Great. I didn’t get a formal education in my [now] chosen career. I know there are prescribed steps. I don’t have time to suffer in silence for my craft. I want to be happy, I want to be successful. There, I said it.