Sheila M. Evans

This week has ended on a definite high note. Yesterday, I finished the last of my twelve miniature oil paintings. Today, I got invited to bring them to Sun Valley and Artfest. Nice! Of course I’ll be bringing pastels, too. But at this stage, getting in with oils still feels like an accomplishment.

A confession: I very nearly didn’t send in my application to Sun Valley this year. Last year the show was a little rough for me, to say the least. Economic troubles hit the area hard, and we artists definitely felt it. I vowed to be strong and wait a year before applying again. But months later, after some profitable shows and a long winter, I caved at first sight of a jury deadline notice. Because whatever else it may be, Sun Valley is seriously fun. And I was NOT going to risk missing out on a KB burrito—not deliberately, anyway.

But first, there’s Artfest. Or not, actually. For the first time ever, Artfest—my mellow, ease-me-into-the-season hometown show—is not first on my schedule. By the time Artfest rolls around this year, I’ll have opened my oils exhibit at the Kress Gallery in Spokane, then driven to Illinois and back for Art on the Square. I sure hope I can adjust to all of these gold-plated problems, as my friend Vicky describes them. I’m looking forward to trying. Just a few more “little” projects to get through beforehand. But that’s a story for another day.

(Above: three of the twelve miniature oils, currently untitled. What can I say, I’m busy.)

Now after all this business about going big, it’s time to go the other direction. Last week I ordered some tiny canvas stretchers the same depth as my large canvases, making some nice, chunky little 6″ x 6″ x 2″ supports for a dozen soon-to-be paintings.

I’ve always really enjoyed small work. I love the idea of tucking an original painting into a bookcase, a mantel, a windowsill or a hundred other unexpected spots.

Since I began selling at art fairs, I’ve always included some miniature version of my work in an effort to make original art available for a relatively low price (and for those avid collectors without another inch of available wall space). Although I did offer some reproductions of my work the first year, I decided to discontinue them and focus exclusively on original art. While the miniature originals may not be quite so potentially profitable as repros, I feel good about making them. I also find that I get along much better with my printmaking neighbors at shows.

Up to now my only miniature works have been in pastel, but since I began showing oils, it followed that I should make oil minis as well. The little canvases pictured at left will be my first efforts. I’ve always loved the almost-sculptural look of chunky, cubular little paintings. I’m so excited to see how they turn out. I’ll post some favorites soon!

It’s been one thing after another lately. I just got over my cold in time to hack my (formerly) working thumb with a kitchen knife. Well, technically I didn’t really hack myself. I just bumped the knife so that it spun like a top off of the counter, making contact on its way to the floor. In any case, the big awkward bandage is not helpful when it comes to painting. Benched again.

Pretty frustrating since I was on a roll with oil painting. But, it’s given me time to think about the reason for that roll.

A few months ago, as I mentioned ad nauseam at the time, I gave myself the project of painting my 3′ x 9′ triptych, Las Lunas (detail, above). It took some weeks to do it and it was pretty daunting since the biggest paintings of my professional career up to that point had been four feet on the long side. But it was really interesting to work on such a large scale (I clamped the canvases together as I painted so it was effectively one big painting).

While it didn’t seem too terribly different from other paintings at the time, it did have an interesting effect afterward. Every painting I’ve done since has seemed really small. And by small I mean manageable, doable, un-intimidating. Easy.

Ever since that one big painting, there has been a significant shift in the way I paint. I’m faster, more fearless at it. I mix the paint and get it on the canvas and don’t worry so much about whether it is right. Oddly, though, it is right far more often than it used to be. It’s as if that big painting filled some sort of requirement to get me to the next level. It put my regular work in perspective.

So, if I am making some sort of a point about my experience here, I guess it is this: do something that scares you. Work outside your comfort zone. If you do, you might just find that your comfort zone is a lot bigger when you are done.

Things feel a little scattered now… I have the neverending cold and only made it to the studio sporadically this week. I did manage to complete my oil version of Springrise (above), which felt pretty good under the circumstances. It was one of those paintings that just falls off the fingers, then in what should have been the last few minutes I went too far with part of it and had to wipe it down and start over—twice. I was afraid I wouldn’t finish at all today which was pretty annoying considering I expected to walk in, dab at it a few times and walk away victorious. I just kept thinking of John Singer Sargent as I wiped at it with my Gamsol-soaked rag… he is reputed to have wiped down parts of his amazing paintings multiple times to keep that “fresh” look to his brushstrokes. It’s scary, but it works. I ended up somewhat happier in the end. Sargent, on the other hand, ended up with Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose. Onward.

And now for something completely different…

It’s not really news per se, but I just got my acceptance email for Art in the High Desert. After last year’s Benchmark Award, I knew I would be in the show, but I have to say it’s still exciting to get that “Congratulations!” email. Especially if you are a Big Dork. But I’m not naming names.

More on the subject of Big Dorks…

I’m loving my studio right now. It is packed with fresh art, just like it usually is this time of year. I think it’s more noticeable this time, perhaps, because unlike my previous studio, it started out big and empty. A 10′ x 11′ room can only look so empty with two shelving units, a desk, a table, a taboret, two easels, two air purifiers, photographic light stands, a roll of canvas, a chair, a few rugs and various and sundry leftover drawings. But 675 square feet can swallow up all that plus that much more again and still seem cavernous. Which is why I was hit with a little teeny tiny bit of dread recently… soon there will be festivals and shows to hang and all the paintings will be gone and it will be empty again. Which is always just a little bit sad.

For photos of the studio as it looked last week, Read more

Okay, so it’s not really a tiki lounge. It’s just my studio, although I have toyed with the idea of adding a grass skirt to my framing table and occasional bar. In any case, I just whipped up another of my little cocktails (i.e. little 10″ x 20″ oil paintings named for vintage drinks).

Ruby Fizz, left, is now both a painting of a red hydrangea and a crazy old cocktail involving sloe gin, grenadine and egg whites. I confess I’ve never had a Ruby Fizz, though I might just see what happens if I order one this weekend. I’m intrigued.

I found the recipe in my own cocktail book, but found this gem of a recipe book here as well. (WANT!)

As for my own Ruby Fizz, it will be served soon at an art fair (possibly) near you!

Between the Pastel 100 coming out and my acceptance to Art on the Square, I thought I probably had better get my butt over to the pastel side of the studio for a bit. I’d been having too much fun painting in oils, and was getting into a pretty nice groove there. But no matter how many hundred pastels I might have on hand, the first early shows going onto my schedule always seem to induce unnecessary and unreasonable panic.

So I rolled with it and made a few small pastel pieces first, then Villafranca, left, which I named after an obscure species of lemon. The piece looked… well… lemony, and sort of Mediterranean, and the name seemed to capture both aspects. I wasn’t even through with it before I was back on the oil side, though—seized with panic yet again as I realized I may have oil shows while most of my oil work is hanging in the Kress gallery.

The drama never ceases.

Apparently, the Pastel Journal’s Pastel 100 issue is out, and I’m happy to report that my pastel, Horizon Study (left), received an honorable mention in the contest. The Pastel Journal is an internationally-read magazine dedicated to the pastel medium. Their extremely popular annual contest gives awards to the top 100 pastels submitted. The awards are divided into five top prizes, then split into five different subject categories, within which there are first, second and third place awards, and honorable mentions. My honorable mention is in the Still Life and Floral category. The other categories include landscape, portrait, animal/wildlife, and abtract/non-objective.

The nice thing about this contest is that you can submit any piece done within the past few years—even if it is sold. Which reminds me: Lorraine, if you are reading this, I’ll send you a copy!

I am so happy right now! I just learned that I have been juried in to the Bellevue Arts Museum show again. This year, not only did I get in with my pastels, I get to show my oil paintings! This is a first for me in Bellevue, one of my very favorite shows to do. To celebrate, I’ve decided it’s time to fire up the Art Fairs 2010 page. Then I think I’d better get some painting done.

(Left: Frost Line, one of my newest oils. See it at the Kress Gallery in May.)