Category: Painting

One Friday evening, I came home after a 5:30 yoga class and hurriedly set up my canvas and rolled out my painting supplies on the balcony. The fleeting sunlight illuminated for15 minutes before darkness descended and the mosquitoes feasted on me.

For this composition, a black hole loomed ominously in the upper left hand corner. I blended black paint with crimson for a fresh bruised-looking event horizon that lightened as it extended to the edges, meeting with the firmament of grayish blue. Mixing black with medium blue, I thinned out the pulpy blueberry result before adding it to the canvas with bold strokes. Before cleaning up, I smeared the remainder of black paint from my palette in a swirling motion on the canvas where the black hole resided.

The next morning, I dutifully set up on the balcony to paint, tilted the music stand, which doubled as my easel, and chills jolted through me.  The Eye of God peeked through the black hole. Had I been a far more religious person, I would have fallen to my knees and wept at the miracle I’d literally co-created.

A few moments later, my educated rational mind took over. After all, this is the way that religious fanaticism begins. I chastised myself for reading too much into what may not even look like an eye to other people.

To test my hypothesis, I zoomed into that part of the canvas, took a picture and texted the shot to several people, asking them what they thought the image inside the black spot looked like. The two most popular answers were an eye and a vagina.

Now I was intrigued. Where I’d seen the Eye of God through a black hole, others had seen a vagina. The two had to be connected. One evoked deep contemplation of its existence, mysterious workings and power. And then there was God. Yet for me, both were undeniable, powerful and the source of new beginnings. My sense of humor would love a religious order dedicated to the pleasing of the vagina to bring one closer to God, but at the same time, women don’t fare too well as prostitutes for God. No matter what we say about the power and beauty of the vagina, very few would accept the enlightenment since the Madonna-whore brand has been promoted for centuries.

So how did I, an amateur painter with the subtlety of a scream, manage to paint a delicate suggestion of a peeping eye? Or even a crude suggestion of a vagina? This serendipitous act that sent my heart racing upon its discovery must be overanalyzed with all the powers that I, a Virgo raised by a Virgo, can muster.

After all, when an astrological virgin unintentionally paints a vagina that can also double as the Eye of God within a black hole, then the tricky questions of who or what created God, the universe, black holes and vaginas arise. All in creation is birthed. Is there a supernatural vagina that birthed everything? If so, what birthed that vagina? These are the questions of both a sleepy child and a rambling poet.

Which of course, I’m not going to answer.

For all the reverence that should be given to both God and vaginas, I cannot think of two more misunderstood, heavily regulated and profitable entities. Which two other things will men wage war for, die for and proudly plant a symbolic flag for conquering?

Now I wonder if their appearance in one of my paintings is a foreshadowing, a forewarning or merely a conversation piece. If one looks at the painting in regular light, one may not notice anything inside the black hole. The phenomenon itself is hidden until you’ve been told of its existence. Seek and ye shall find. In the right light, at the correct angle, you too will see a peeping eye, a vagina, a religious experience.

I don’t know about you, but I find that spooky.

It’s always a milestone when I complete the next painting in The Adventures of Infinity and Negativa series. I truly enjoy the colorful expansion on my gallery wall. When I finish three more, I may have to move the four paintings that have nothing to do with the book.  Even though there may be enough room for three rows of my paintings without their removal, I don’t want the space to be cluttered.

The completion of this painting was made possible by fracturing my ankle and being helped by my sister. Had I not fractured my ankle, I would not have taken a 2-week sick leave in order to recover from the surgery needed to correctly set my fibula. I flew my sister in for two weeks to help me out.  In addition to the obvious, cooking and cleaning duties, she also facilitated my painting by setting everything up on the balcony so all I had to do was hobble out on crutches and paint.  I sat down in one chair, propped my left leg in another chair and became absorbed into my painting.

I completed the sixth painting two days before my second week follow up appointment.  The current X-ray showed the 6 metal screws and plate were doing the magnificent job of resetting my fibula. Before my doctor removed my stitches, I asked her if she thought that I needed a numbing agent. She said that the shot to numb my leg would be more painful that removing the stitches.  Then I suggested a tequila shot instead.Once again, I was impressed that my ankle didn’t appear more disfigured.  I asked how much longer I needed to use crutches.  She cautioned me, saying that removing stitches has nothing to do with how long I needed to use crutches.  Of course I knew that, but one can dream, right?

Tomorrow, I return to school.  I went in on Saturday to get half my grades done.  I have to complete the other half tomorrow before 4pm since report cards are going to be printed. I’ll be so happy to be reunited with my students even though I’ve got a lot of work ahead of me.  Despite the fact that I planned nearly a month ahead of time, grades will be generated, students will need to be taught and tutored and other duties will have to be fulfilled.  Nonetheless, I’ll appreciate being back in action.  I look forward to incorporating more activity into my life. Thanks to the knee walker, it is easier to get around. Yet nothing takes the place of walking on my own two feet!

I’m the proud “mother” of four paintings, which represent chapters 1-4 of my second novel, The Adventures of Infinity and Negativa. One of my goals for this fourth painting was to complete it before I had to return to school. It’s good to have deadlines for each painting to keep me on my toes. From here on out, I think the realistic deadline will be to complete a painting a month. I’m definitely a much better painter now than I was before I began this endeavor.

I must admit that despite the flaws of this painting, I didn’t have to redo a significant number of mistakes. That was part of the reason I completed it in 15 days. Hopefully, with my improved techniques, I’ll be able to complete a painting a month now that school’s starting up again. I really like the color scheme of this painting and of course the geometric sections. I didn’t think through using sepia for the wall behind the hammock. I usually use sepia for the twins’ hair; so I had to use black instead. Worked out fine in the end. A humorous mistake was the hookah. Although I decorated and shaped it consistently, it appears squashed or elongated, depending on the section the viewer’s looking at. And for a fourth painting, I still have not perfected the body proportions, especially in the bottom section. Poor Infinity has an extra long leg and a shrunken head. Just like a parent with her fourth child, I was not nearly as uptight about correcting mistakes with this one as I was with the fourth one.

Unlike when I added the third painting on the wall, I do not feel overpowered by the intense energy exuding from the collection. They draw my attention whenever I walk by and I suspect that once I get at least two paintings on the second row, which will be at the end of October if not sooner, then I’ll go through another shock.  Until then, I have to take advantage of every little speck of time that I have at my disposal. I figure that ten minutes is the bare minimum that’ll make it worth my time to take everything out onto the patio and work on a section. I’ve had plenty of practice setting up my canvas on the terrace over this summer. I wonder if I’ll experience intense concentration like I do whenever I have merely 5 minutes to write.  That remains to be seen.

This past Friday, I celebrated the “birth” of my third painting. As usual, I initially saw all of the shortcomings of it before appreciating what was wonderful about it.  Namely, I really like the way the background for the lower three panels look, the characters pop off the canvas and the fractured look of the sections.  I struggled with the top section for several reasons.  The maze is not painted at the angle that I originally envisioned and the clouds aren’t nearly as billowy and ominous as I would like them to be. I still struggled with getting the body portions correct, but I like the difference in their positions.

As a matter of fact, I just recently attended two art galleries where the human form was deformed by Picasso, Miro, Chagall, and other artists. I wish I could be as fearless as those great artists. Yet, my style is not to be purposely “deformative.” Nonetheless, as I concluded with the very first painting, I’m not going to improve my technique by dwelling on the amateurish errors.

Once I rearranged the other two paintings in order to accommodate the addition of the third, I was struck by the intense energy coming off the trio. I actually cringed, thinking about 24 of them coming all together! Yet, I like the painting collaboration with my writing. Of course, the next day, I prepped the fourth canvas. Thanks to this third painting, I don’t know if I’ll section off another canvas in the traditional rectangular sections of storyboards. I like playing with the unusual sections.

 Once one of my critique partners brought it to my attention that my latest work in progress, The Adventures of Infinity & Negativa, contained a fantasy element, I immeditately knew that I wanted those fantasy parts to be in graphic novel form. Although the best things are free, a graphic artist is not. A few people were initially interested, but in order for a true collaboration to happen, I would have needed to compensate them for their time. In the future, for another book, that may be a possibility if I have the resources. Yet, my greatest resources right now are time, creativity, motivation and intermediate painting skills.

So, on January 22, 2013, I took the first step of being my own graphic artist by taking a blank 16″ X 20″ canvas out of my storage room. From there, I worked on it once or twice a week, which was a snail’s pace, considering that I planned to complete around 24 canvases.

In addition to working around a full-time teaching job and an active social life, another challenge were my fears: the fear of not completing the series and the fear of not being good enough. A few weeks into the painting project, I overcame the second fear first. To make my lack of professional-looking painting abilities work in my favor, I decided to make the paintings the product of my main character, Nuru. I signed her name on the front and my name and the date on the back.

As soon as summer break began, I started painting every day. I quickly learned that the best rearrangement of my schedule would be to paint as soon as I finished writing in the morning since the reliable Texas heat will have the sweat rolling off my back by one o’clock. The painting truly came together, but I needed an extra push to finish it in a timely fashion.

My next wonderful idea was to present the painting at an open mic that takes place every 4th Thursday. I figured I could finish it in a week; so the painting would have nearly a week to dry and the added bonus would be starting on the second painting.

I had two friends to pose for the composition of the second painting. With the lessons I learned from the first painting, I launched into the measuring, taping and preliminary painting of the second one. I did myself several favors such as not having something complicated for me to duplicate repeated in more than one frame. I also learned, when I was researching about sealing the first painting, that one should use multiple thin layers in order to create an oil painting. I’m quite sure my Honduran oil painting teacher never told me that. I know my Spanish was not that bad. At some point, he could have told me not to use so much paint.  I absolutely love the richness of oils, but with my skill level, I need the ability to make corrections as easy as possible. Nonetheless, this whole experience is one big “discovery learning” endeavor and I’m so happy that I have three months to dedicate myself to the pursuit.

The reading of the excerpt that goes along with the painting went over well. I even read a page and a half after the opening fantasy scene so the audience could know a little about the main character who’s “doing” these series of paintings. I ended my reading at the first cliffhanger in the book, which had the intended effect.

Now that I got the ball rolling, I don’t feel like dragging any paintings–at least not until they are all completed–out to be publicly displayed. Just like the journey starting with the first step, I’ve added this work to the gallery that I set up in my apartment a few months ago. Once again, now that there’s been a change in the gallery, I feel compelled to stop and contemplate it. Then on the opposite side of the room, I stop and study the current painting that I’m working on. I know exactly where I need to pick things up, which is usually at the point of some “error” or “ugly” that needs to be redone.

What I love about painting these scenes, other than having the visuals for the novel, is that the book motivates the paintings and the creative composition of the paintings affect the editing of the story. Now that this project has grown in scope, I’m no longer pressuring myself to complete it in fewer than seven years, providing I still have to juggle a full-time teaching schedule. Only time and creativity will tell.