Blame it on my ageing memory, but there’s a term that escapes me x on the tip of my forked tongue I just can’t put my locked up finger on. It’s a term for artists who use ‘the old ways’ to *conserve* them so they don’t die out. (I understand conservationist is ™d by the Planeteers and that museum types just hate it when you misuse the word.)

I’m talking about the folks today (as in 2026) who are still painting portraits glaze by glaze with stand oil or weaving T’nalak ~ or artists like Jandy A Carvajal, who I first fell in love professionally with for his borlas de pastillas (AKA pabalat, or pastillas wrappers cut out of Japanese paper which is what I tried to depict in the piece above (can’t blame a girl fer tryin ^^; )
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Even if I hadn’t spent a significant part of my life around the statues and carrozas at church, I still would have so totally been mind-blown by the sheer intricacy and detail of each piece.

Going through the show feels like going through a jewellery box ~ you’re just mesmerised by each piece, admiring how precise and clean his lines are (doesn’t take a machine to do clean work) (just sayin’). I overheard someone at the opening saying how there was no room for error; if Jandy made a mistake, he’d have to start over. 
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And of course we fell to talking about stuff and I can’t help remarking on how lucky I am to be able to talk to him because I know he understands about things like the long hours, the late nights… It just makes that much of a difference talking to someone you know has been there, too.
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Being super fit isn't usually the first thing that comes to mind when we talk about what you need to be if you want to become an artist. That's usually an issue for like athletes, dancers, mountain climbers, or ultimate fighters.

But folks who sit down at an easel or a desk to paint? Not really, right?
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Maybe people don't usually think about the toll art can take on your physical wellbeing, but I’ve personally known artists who've gotten sick, injured or both while on duty in their respective painting factories. And the fact is, some of us do have trouble staying in good enough shape sometimes to finish whatever it is we need to finish.

Now look, this isn't a blog about a healthy lifestyle or tips to be, whatever ~ I'm like the LAST person on EARTH to have even the tiniest fraction of the right to write something like that.

But I'll probably be one of the first to tell anyone that being an artist isn't something you take for granted ~ physically. You know, I told a young artist that recently, something like, ‘Why do you want to be an artist? It’s bad for your health,’ to which she replied, ’All professions are bad for your health.’

I’m not saying they’re not, nor am I saying becoming an artist is somehow special or whatever because it’s extra *life-risky* or something. That said, all I can say is that if staying healthy ranks high on your priority list, you just might have to make a few adjustments depending on how serious you are about your practice.
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Like I've also known, one or two folks who take precautions like wearing gloves when they paint (and not just because of their nails ^^) or really just not pushing past what their bodies are no longer able to handle. I knew one who gave up paint for a bit and just drew or something because she didn’t fancy being around the chemicals.

One of my favourite sopranos, Mirella Freni? My memory's not the best but I have a vague memory of her saying once that she wouldn't do Queen of the Night cos she knows her limits, or something like that.

In any case, for me, I've always thought to H-E-Double Toothpicks with that ~ if you don't, like, put your body on the line for the thing you want then maybe you don't want it enough! You know?

It's only when I got old that I had no choice but to make like Mirella LOL
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Instead of maybe talking about what can happen to you, because I remembering writing about accidents or injuries here on the jillablog before, I thought I’d share a few *super powers* or physical attributes you’re going to need IF you're crazy enough to want to *art* for the long term.

(Believe it or not, I actually looked up one or two definitions for this, so if your genie says you only get three? You can probably combine two or more of these (and maybe have one left over for more wishes lol)
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I've been talking about stamina a lot lately (the same way I talk about plant burgers in the middle of the night and wonder whether delivery riders worked graveyard).  When I first thought of writing about this, Dwyvach the Weaver Woman from the Chronicles of Prydain loomed large in my memory. Now that Dwy and I are about the same age, I’ve made her my poster girl for studio work.

"...Dwyvach, despite her years, could work faster, longer, and harder than he himself. At the end of each day Taran's eyes were bleary, his fingers raw, and his head nodded wearily; yet the old weaver-woman was bright and spry as if the day had scarce begun."  (Lloyd Alexander, Taran Wanderer (1967)
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So I had to look up how this was different from stamina because in remembering Dwy, I remembered thinking how I ‘should've reached that level of endurance by now’ ~ and then I wondered if they were the same thing.

Apparently there’s a whole rabbit hole about the differences that wiser heads than mine have dug over this, so lazy jill’s just gonna go with How Stuff Works explains it: stamina is about how long you can give it all you got, and endurance is how long you can keep going before you fizzle out. (I hope I got that right lol)

Because I gotta tell ya, painting or drawing, even a single piece (let alone a series, like for a show, or a book) is a marathon, not a sprint. And I'm ashamed to say I’ve always been more of a Taran than a Dwyvach at nightfall which is when the painting factory really opens for business.

I had also hoped that being at Dwy’s level would've meant being able to stretch an all-nighter without an artist's best friend ~ I'm wondering now whether I'd only dreamed of having done that a few years back because it sure seems impossible now.
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Well, having gone down that rabbit hole, I of course was compelled to look up how stamina was different from strength. Apart from ‘that thing Superman has a lot of’ lol I couldn’t dig up any ‘dumbed down for jill’ definitions except this one which (in jillinese) is basically how much force you can exert at one time.

(So, if I got that right, strength is how much at one time, stamina is all you got for how long, and endurance is how long you can until you run out.)

And while lifting a pencil or a paintbrush doesn’t quite compare to bench pressing like Jimmy Kolb, you also need to be pretty strong to do art ~ how strong depends on what you're doing, exactly. I mean, you'll probably need more physical strength to whang a chunk of marble or wood than maybe do pointillism with a 0.1 tip pen.

But regardless of your medium, there can also be a lot of straight up hefting involved, whether that’s canvas (of whatever size), or even paper.

Sounds funny, I know, but paper can be heavy if it's of a certain weight and size and if you're stretching it. Even if you take it off the plywood, stack a few 600-gsm’s and those can weigh something even if you put nothing but watercolours or watered down acrylic on them.

You’ll also need to be strong enough to use your tools safely. Things like hammers, or, anything with a blade, or maybe a blowtorch if you're doing that kind of sculpture ~ and even if the tools (like canvas stretching pliers) are meant to relieve you of some of the weight or pressure.

And having mentioned tools, this reminds me of technique, which, in turn, reminds me of another one of my *book friends*, Maximilian Morrel. Max was an experienced soldier (Captain of Spahis, no less) described in Count as ‘being graceful in every movement because he was strong’.

In the context of this post, this reminds of me of huge, single-stroke paintings like this one by Wolfgang Semmelrock. You do need to be strong, after all, to be graceful or to make a graceful, controlled movement (ask any dancer you please).
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I mentioned pointillism a while back, which again, may not seem like you need to be able to do the Iron Man triathlon for. But for that kind of thing, your fingers will need to be able to survive being curled up round a pen, or a brush, or a knife handle, or whatever your tool of choice is, for hours and hours on end.


Well you can take breaks and all that, whatever works for you. But some of us will have to keep that sort of thing up for a stretch, and won't exactly be, like, jumping up after just a few minutes at a desk yelling tada! brandishing a miraculously finished piece.


So the good, old-fashioned dictionary definition of mobility is the capacity for free and easy movement ~ something you take for granted until you’re old like jill and your fingers and knees start locking up from sitting and picking at your work until you lose all sense of time and then suddenly you need to pee ^o^;

Again, depending on the tools, medium, and technique that you use, some of us might develop the kind of injuries you'd expect athletes to develop. Like when you cover a large area with a wash or energetic repetitive strokes long enough and before you know it, your wrists or elbows are killing you.

Jackson Pollock, for instance, walked around bent over and dripped and flung paint as he worked (bet that guy was limber ^^). And if you have big works you may have to climb up and down a ladder and be able to balance or not fall off scaffolding.  Paint on your feet all night long and soon your feet will kill you, too.

Hardiness was the other word I had in mind for this, because if you say immunity it’s kind of like resistance against germs (I’m no med student, but you know what I mean ^^).

If you remember I mentioned chemicals earlier in this post, and I mention tolerance here because some of us will also need to be able to withstand exposure to chemicals and the fumes that come with. Same goes for dust or significant amounts of small fibres depending on the materials you use or you happen to be sanding or something.

Again, you can crack a window, switch on a fan, or strap on a mask, but these kinds of things may not be for folks with asthma or sensitivities to certain smells. I may have mentioned on the jillablog about how I used to drive Mom nuts with the reek of my solvents, and I remember my brother getting sick from the fibres and soldering gun smells from my school projects, too.

Exposure to paint, solvents, and chemicals might also be a not-so-good idea for folks with sensitive skin. Yet again, you can wear gloves and all that; me, personally I need to be able to glomp whatever I'm working with; gloves generally aren't for me ^^

LOL I remember when I was in my early 20s, before I went to art school, I had a bottle of paint thinner for my hands ~ that drove my teacher nuts and she was all what are you DOing that is so not safe! (And that reminded me of when I was about 12, the teachers at the classes I was taking then were using kerosene or gasoline as an oil painting medium) (yes, it smelled lovely).

Of course there are solutions like Grumtime (don't laugh, but this is a certified 100 per cent nostalgic smell for me), or, you could just do water-soluble paint, but, yeah. Point being there are myriad options for the plethora of smells you may have to live with ^o^

So if strength is the noun for strong, there’s no real ‘noun equivalent’ for being energetic, because, well ‘energy’ does rather sound like wind farms and solar panels, doesn’t it ^^ Plus, if I had said ‘liveliness’, for me it speaks more to the personality of the artist rather than the physicality of creating art.

I mentioned strength because I thought being energetic was the same thing. But I guess it is true that you can have a lot of energy for working on your art and still not be able to lift a 48-can case of Red Bull.

Because there’s all that heavy duty stuff you wish (or well, *I* wish LOL) you could just make your studio assistant take care of. Things like cleaning your palette, your brushes, your knives, washing your plywood, stretching your paper, priming and edging your canvas, wrapping paintings for transport ~

~ All that stuff takes a whole lot of energy. Well, this could be the senior citizen in me talking, but all this did wipe me out too when I was younger, possibly because I wasn't getting a whole lot of sleep ^^
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(Public enemy no. 1 of this artist LOL). But I know that you know, some of us do need to be Vulcans sometimes. (‘I am not hungry, Doctor. And under stress, we Vulcans can do without sleep for weeks.’ (Spock, Paradise Syndrome, Star Trek TOS, Season 3)

On that note, I guess, I’d like to finally wrap up this month’s musings by saying, again, don’t take your body for granted when making art. I’m pretty sure I’ve said here time and again that art is a mind game, but now that my own body seems to be giving way, I’m compelled to admit that it’s a game your body has to play, too.

So unless you can transplant your brain into an android body that lasts up to 500,000 years on Mudd’s planet, best you take care of yours! Or at least, enough care to finish the magnum opus you’re working on (because you are the only one who can really finish your work) ~ Good luck <3
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Okay, so I have delusions of grandeur (I’m pretty sure I’m not the only artist who has) (the fact I call myself an artist lol) ~ but seriously, I am nothing if not GRATEFUL to God, forever, for giving me Bassints ~ that’s what I’ve always called my sister, Jacinta.

(I’m not sure now of the etymology; I think it might have come from Jacinta, Bacinta (portmanteau of 'Beautiful Jacinta'.)

Above is my favourite picture of us (at least, the one that’s readily available ^^) taken on Halloween back in 2012.

As is the way of these posts these days, this one was brought on by this article that came into my inbox this past week about Jo van Gogh-Bonger, Vincent’s sister-in-law, and how we’re always going to owe her for our forever love affair with her famous brother-in-law.
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While I do have a most excellent brother-in-law (Bassints is an only sister ^_~), Chito, to whom I am also greatly indebted, the Daily Art Magazine piece very naturally made me want to write about my own (if you will allow me) Theo.

This is a detail of a small watercolour I made featuring one of my favourite literary couples, Maximilian and Valentine (Count of Monte Cristo). Being perennially broke I gave this to her as a present a while back because (although I didn’t mean it when I made it) M&V reminded me of, well, C&C (Bassints is Cinta to everyone else ^^).

I’ve always been and will always be super appreciative of everything Bassints has and continues to do for me as an artist, but not since reading Ledys Chemin’s article had it occurred to me to consider, more closely, my sister’s role in my practice.

I’m pretty sure this isn’t the first time I’ve referred to her as my Theo (here in the jillablog or elsewhere), but this may be the first time I’ve fully, really appreciated what it really means to call her that.
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…which is what I call my parents’ house (and which, regretfully I will soon call my ex-ex-house, Bassints and I shared one of the two rooms upstairs (the other room being my parents’). It was a rectangular room which was quite readily delineated (by my junk, the headboard of her bed, and our bathroom door) into two square halves for each of us. Her half had our closet and the bedroom door.

Fortunately for both of us, she was out most of the time ~ I was 17 when she was born (she looked more like the debutante than I did at my 18th birthday lol), so, I was already playing hermit crab in our room making things (although I was (also) using my dad’s then home office as my studio downstairs.

My activities often encroached on her half of the room (sorry, Bassints) ~ last month’s post shows me drying my stretched paper on her bed (which you can see below on the right side of my canvas) ^^;

But I’ll always be grateful for her extreme patience and tolerance, especially when I was in painting factory mode and I was cramming things all night. It couldn’t have been easy for her because, well, I’m not a very easy person to live or get along with even when I wasn’t in painting factory mode ^^;;;; Even by our (Addams) family’s standards, she must’ve been really weirded out (gross understatement).

…encouraged me any way she could, and I’m ashamed to say (at the risk of sounding super materialistic (which I confess I am) how I super love and cherish all her little ‘go go you can do it’ prezzies <3 Like she bought me this adorable little cup (which I still use to this day, photo was posted back in 2014) because she knows how much coffee I drink in the painting factory…

…and these muffins a year before that whilst I was in the middle of what must’ve been Horselords. And believe me, if I took a photo of every single little thoughtful gift she’s ever gotten me over the years (and continues to get me now, whether it’s to keep me going during cramming for a show or just, keep me going in general ^^), this post would be a bazillion pages long ^^;

Bassints has also posed for me (willingly and un-) literally since she was a baby ~ I’m fairly sure I have that first sketch of her I made when she was a baby (looking like a little red furry bat when Mom first brought her home from the hospital ^3^). Unfortunately, my portraiture skills are hit-and-miss at best when it comes to likeness, so, I can’t ever say I’ve ever been able to do her justice.

But I can say I nailed likeness with this piece LOL I think she let me make this cast of her back in 2012 for an art class I was teaching (as you know, I don’t teach anymore).

She also even got her friends to sit for me (oh my giddy aunt, I never once thanked them (let alone paid them) for my 2017 show, Revellers -_-|||

… she’s been to every single one of mine ^_^ AND even made the invites for some of them <3 This one for Pista is my favourite…

I’m hoping she’ll be able to emcee (my sister is a woman of many talents ^_^ /) the opening of my show this year <3 (I say ‘hope’ because well, at the time of writing I’m hoping to be able to finish all the pieces!) 

Not that she did it for me haha but Bassints also married the best brother-in-law a girl could have ~ effectively doubling her support for my practice. And really, even if the article that spurred this one hadn’t been about Jo instead of Theo, I really couldn’t write about Bassints without writing about Chito, too.

Bassints (and other sane people ^^) may have a little something to say about this, but I’ve always regarded *threatening bodily harm to another on behalf of a loved one* as a solid expression of love ^o^; I did have one brother sort of do this for me once (and another brother who did but I’m not sure he did it for me o_o|||).

But it was my brother-in-law who did actually do this for me ~ he may not have known it (or maybe even meant it) but it did mean a super lot to me when he did  <3

Once was when a gallery manager was giving me a hard time, and once when another gallery ‘accidentally’ had merchandise for sale with my work on it (well, this one was *threatening a lawsuit* ^^) (the ‘we’re gonna sue the pants offa you’ letter he wrote really was scary) ~

I thought (and still think) those were really sweet of him to do <3
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A tradition we have back here has a prospective groom *fetching water*, *chopping firewood* and doing other such chores at the prospective bride’s house.

While it might be construed as part of that tradition, Chito-kun has hefted my insanely heavy 4-foot, dust-covered canvases and frames when I moved into the (soon to be ex-) jillahouse ~ and sneezed so much while he was at it, I thought, ‘dang Bassints better marry this guy’) ^^;

He even assembled my desk AND gave me the desk light on it (which has been indispensable to me in my work)…
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AND AND When I turned 50 last year, he even made me ramen <3 (the guy can cook ANYTHING; if all else fails (which it couldn’t possibly if he tried) he can always give Gordon Ramsay a run for his money ^^) ~ which I ate out of a bowl I made at the pottery class he and Bassints took me to for my birthday <3

AND AND AND (‘and, and, effin’ and? ^o^) he even took his Mom to my last gallery show, and I remember she was so kind <3
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…because you know, the things I’ve described here are just the *toppy tip* of what *Bachito* have done for my practice ~ and the super duper uber ultraelectromagnetic tip of the Titanic iceberg of what they’ve done for me outside of it (like that time they rescued me in the middle of the night from ~ well, anyway ^^;)

Believe me, I have a very real phobia (like the one I have of certain amphibians) of being the *pain in the backside sister-in-law* ~ it may not look it but I like to think I at least try not to abuse their kindness u_u;

I regret very much that it took a random email newsletter to bring home to me more than ever how much I owe Mr and Mrs L, but, as belated as these rambling and haphazard expressions of thanks are, I do mean them. Honest.

(> ^-^)> Thank you Bassints x Thank you Chito-kun <( ^-^<)

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I think every artist documents their process one way or another, whether they share it publicly or not. The photos you see here serve as records of my process back at the *original painting factory* more than 10 years ago, before I started this blog or my social media accounts. I thought it was fitting considering I will soon have to leave my current studio and move back there.

But this post was actually brought on by my seven-year-old niece. She’d made me a video a few weeks ago showing me how she made Merry, a little jewel-like monster cleverly made out of a plastic water bottle and who I just couldn’t help falling in love with on sight.
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My genius niece told me how she used wire for Merry’s hair, and how you can twist it round to give her new do, and how the different colours of wire stand for things (symbolism at her age, I’m so proud ^_^).

She took me through the yarn winding, the hole poking (kinda made me nervous), the velvet cutting ~ the whole nine yards. She even listed the stuff she used afterwards ~ a real prodigy <3

That, in turn, got me thinking about how process documentation seems to be all the rage these days ~ of course it’s nothing NEW. Artists have been recording their ‘works in progress’ since, I don’t know, maybe even the folks who did the caves at Lascaux would’ve taken pictures if they’d had phones lol

But I did notice an email I got recently from some folks holding a sort of contest or other where you gave in like a website or something, documenting your process or your artistic journey or something like that. Said it was a big deal on account of how, you know, a prompt can spit out what it would take a *caveman artist* like me aaages to put together in a studio.

Heck, that was the whole point of the show Ang INK put on last year.

But for me there are other reasons (aside from the obvious) why it might be a good idea to make like my brilliant niece. And focusing on these reasons might be able to help you get more out of every photo you take, note you scribble, or video you shoot (whether it’s the *whole nine yards* type or not).
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It’s always struck me how something that takes aaages to make (maybe not ‘in actuality’ but even just in your head) will only take someone a few seconds to take in on a gallery wall (or on a screen). If you’re lucky, the someone might raise an eyebrow, or if you’re luckier, smile ~ before they walk on (or scroll past).

We know this to be true; heck, 10 to one we do it, ourselves.

But more often than not, when we know how the thing was made, we end up (hopefully) spending a few seconds more to just take it in and appreciate all the work that went into it.

Like I tend to, you know, linger over a piece made using the same medium or technique I use (usually better eheheheh), especially if I can see it was used differently.
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Also, knowing the why behind the making of a thing can make you love it (or at least appreciate it) even more.

And more often than not, the why is even less obvious or apparent than the how is, i.e. the idea, or, the concept or the message the artist is trying to get across. And you know how it is these days with the shrinking attention spans ~ not everybody wants to spend even more seconds staring at your work and figuring out what it means.

Now I’m not saying you should change what you’re doing on account of this; I, for one, wouldn’t ~ I’m just, speaking from a place of plain observation (and maybe my former day job ^^; )

And having said this, documenting the why as well as the how can go a long way toward helping people experience your work on an even deeper level (and what artist wouldn’t want that, right).

At very least, you’ll have a ready answer if anybody just straight up asks you ‘What’s your process?’ ^o^

Having mentioned my ex-job, there was something we used to (and I daresay, dread) called a post-mortem ~ usually when a campaign or some event we worked on effed up.

For those of you who aren’t familiar (or who work in forensics or something and would know the term that way) a post-mortem is basically just looking back and figuring out what went (very) wrong. (Post-mortems for things that went very right have been super rare in my experience because who has time for that.)

The last time I was in one was when the agency I was working with lost a long-time client. I remember saying that it was because the strategy was out of whack and no one had been keeping an eye on things, so they very naturally went to shite.

Documenting your process gives you something on top of your finished piece for you to look back on to see what you could’ve done better or differently ~ the latter just might be another avenue for you to explore later on. And obviously, the former just might save you some grief (or even avoid any accidents that might have happened during the process in question).

So on top of how and why, here are some what questions you can maybe ask during a post-mortem:

•  What did you want to achieve with this piece?
•  What do you love most about this piece?
•  What did you love most about making this piece?

•  What did you not love about making this piece?
•  What would you change if you could do this piece over?
•  What would have made this piece better or stronger?

•  What is the most important thing you learned from making this piece?
•  What is going to change in your practice because of it?

You don’t have to write the answers down or anything ~ at least, for your documentation process ~ but just asking and reflecting on them in your head as you take or review those photos, videos, or notes might be helpful ^^
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Documenting your process takes sharing is caring to another level when you share your process with other artists in particular. I mean there’s a difference between sharing ‘here’s how I did this thing, step one, step two, step three’ ~ and ‘here’s me while I’m doing it, watch’. Kind of like how reading a cookbook and watching a cooking show are different.

I mentioned avoiding accidents and such a while back; but other reasons for documenting your process and getting more out of documentation have to do with helping artists with their own practice. I guess that’s more obvious for artists who are just starting out; sharing your process with them might help shorten their learning curve or even inspire them somehow.

But I think the two-way sharing of creative processes might be helpful no matter where you are on your *path as an artist*. Newer artists might be able to get advice and artists who have been practising longer might discover new or better ways do things.

Like I also mentioned how I like to check out works by other artists using the same medium as myself; it makes sense for me to be interested in how they do things, as well. I know I don’t know everything and I think there’s always something you can learn.

In any case I think it’s wonderful when artists are able to stick together as a community and support one another that way ^_^**
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But of course, if you’re selfish like me (haha just kidding), ultimately you document your process along with your finished work for yourself. Lately, more than ever, I’m realising that I may not be able to make things for much longer, or at least, not like I used to or want to.

So documentation is my way of saving things for me to look at later for when it’s all over ~ so I’ll have something to remember me by haha, for when I was an artist. I’ve spoken about this in my posts on painting for memory and how taking a romp down memory lane might enable you to remember things you were experiencing while working on a particular piece.

But whether you’re doing it for yourself ~ and (not ‘or’) especially when you do it for other people (artists or not), let’s be honest. More often that not, documentation involves picking and choosing what we save and (/or) share. I mean, heck, I do it. Like how I try to leave out my underwear or socks lying around in my workspace whenever I take pictures ^______^

I’m not saying to not curate or art direct or anything; just pointing it out, is all. One last thing to, consider, I guess, when it comes to process documentation in the studio: how real you want to your documentation to be. Sometimes, I admit, I’ll take a picture and say ‘this one’s just for me’ ~ for me to remember what it was like when I was making something, as in not for public consumption.
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To wrap things up, I’ll tell you one, very practical use I get out of documenting my process which involves taking those ‘just for me’ photos. Because my desk has to *double duty* for writing as well as *arting*, I find I have to keep rearranging my set up every time I *switch between jobs*. 

I hate doing that, to be honest, especially when I’m able to settle on a set up that’s *perfect* for whatever I’m working on. See, um, I like to be able to move things around like my easel, my lighting, my seat and so on; sometimes I’m like a doggo who turns around a lot before finally lying down ^^; 

So before I clear up my workspace for writing, I like to take a picture to remind me where and how exactly my easel and my palette and so on were positioned, so I can set it up again ^^;

(But since we’re being honest here, truth is I never look at the photos, and I’ll end up *turning around a lot before lying down* every time, anyway ^^)         

Anyway, thanks for checking out my *documentation* right here on the jillablog ~ and thank you for sharing yours with me via my contact page, if you have ^_^* If you haven’t, feel free to share  ~ I would love to see your work and process, too ^_^**​

‘How do you think?’ That was what this artist friend I was speaking with a few weeks ago asked me. The question caught me off guard; I didn’t really understand it at first. What she meant was, like, does the image come first, like in your head, or the words, or ideas?

It struck me as one of those ‘it’s so deep, I’m drowning’ questions, but it stuck with me because honestly it had never occurred to me before. I guess it’s just one of many things I’d taken for granted; believe me, I try not to take things that way, like I try to remind myself to be grateful even for the smallest, inanest things.

But it was when my artist friend explained that she had asked me, because of another artist she knew. This other artist, I understood, was a paragon of artistic skill, as tidy and precise as a ninja with a laser cutter ~ at least, until my friend told me this other artist was unable to visualise anything she’d never seen.  Like for instance, my friend said, a pink elephant with wings.
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That artist wouldn’t be able to paint one, because she’d never actually seen one. `Wow,’ I remember blurting out. ‘If that ever happened to me I’d go hang myself.’ (Well of course I wouldn’t, but you know what I mean.)

After all, painting creatures you don’t see every day (or any where) (as far as many of us know anyway) is what I live to paint!

I remembered this artist I’d read about once (Courbet, it turns out), who I think was asked, how come you never paint angels? And he said he would if he were shown one. I brought this up in the conversation, adding that I don’t think the artist my friend was talking about, meant it like that.
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Aphantasia was mentioned (and corroborated by my sister who did psychology at school). Now I’m no psychologist and I don’t mean for this post to be a dissertation or something, okay.

But the way I understand aphantasia is not having a mind’s eye, or rather not being able to, I don’t know, imagine, I guess, or see made up things up in your head. That, for the life of me, is something I can’t imagine not being able to do.

But hey, wouldn’t it be boring if everyone’s brains worked the same way, am I right?

I also mentioned Kandinsky and synesthesia, and my friend nodded and I think we were both on the same page.

~ which, after having said all that, did make me think a bit. I guess, understanding how you come up with things in your head, so as to be able to create things, is a good thing. For artists, I mean.

I mean after all, understanding how rain works gave rise to cloud seeding, and understanding how electricity works made it possible to write this post at night, and understanding how, oh, organs, I suppose, makes it possible to make sick people well. If you don’t know how the engine works, you won’t be able to repair it (or soup it up to win the grand prix).

I remember writing one or two posts about thinking things up to paint (oh heavens, I have a category called Conceptualisation LOL) ~ okay, I was able to dig these up about thinking techniques, what to do if you don’t know what to paint, and influences on your painting (which I think is totally related).

Having gone into how I ‘think up the things that I think’, I’d like to add that maybe, we’re (or at least I am) not so very different from the artist my artist friend was talking about. Because if you think about it, none of us can (or well, I can’t, anyway) think up anything, or even extrapolate on anything that we haven’t seen or read about somewhere.

I’m just a Salieri, so, I can’t speak for any Mozarts out there, if you know what I mean, but for the rest of us, maybe, whenever we think up anything it necessarily draws on something else that we’d seen or heard about somewhere.
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Maybe smells manifest visually for some people like sound did for Mr K, even years and years ago. Whatever it is, it may manifest itself in what we make.

Like mermaids. I didn’t invent the monster with a human top half and a fishy bottom. I’d seen these monsters everywhere since I was a kid. So, when I started making my own mermaids (in third grade, maybe), they looked like that. No thanks to me, surely. I didn’t come up with that concept on my own.

And the fish tails of mermaids, with the caudal fin, anal fin, lateral line, and dorsal fin ~ there are *real* fishies in the world with tails just like that.

So maybe the cavemen (or whoever way, waaay back in the day), having caught a fleeting glimpse in the corners of their eye (or mind’s eye) of an actual mermaid (hey, you never know) ~ when they started making pictures of mermaids, *real fishies* being easier to hand…

Dragons, for another (which someday I would so love to have a whole, dedicated show about) ~ they were described in the Bible, and folks much later on, once illustrations became more of a mainstream thing (and dino bones were discovered) ~ and scaly lizards being easier to hand…

Again, I’m not doing any research as I write this and I’m no academician; just talking out of my sleeping bag, here ~ but you get what I mean, I hope.

Of course, I wholeheartedly prefer to regard mermaids, dragons, and all my monsters as real as you or me; we just don’t see them around so much / they’re not ‘easier to hand’ these days LOL
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But even though it was just a few weeks ago (feels like a few years, now, to be honest), I need to take a couple more seconds to remember what I said. About whether the image or the words, or the idea came first.

I think I said it wasn’t the same, for me, every time, that sometimes one or the other would come first.  I equated ideas with words, words being the expression of an idea, even if the words were still in your head, I guess. In your head, you had to refer to them as something (or with something).

I said sometimes, I’d see (with my mind’s eye), a picture first, then I’d try to recapture that picture or reproduce that picture out here in the *real world* when I made anything. Other times, the words came first, then my jillabrains would try to interpret the words or the idea into something I could see ~ with my mind’s eye first, then my eye-eye lol
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Or the words or ideas, for that matter ~ or why they come when they do. Once again, I’m not a psychiatrist or anything like that ~ but I probably had to see one when I was younger (or just get punished for lying haha) because I’d insist upon being able to see what my mind’s eye saw right alongside things in the *real world*.

For sure I wouldn’t want to be able to do that today in my old age (as a good many of the images and ideas in my filthy little head frighten me) (and I do live by myself haha). Although once in a long while I try to still be able to ‘bring things out of my brain’ to stand before me beside whatever I happen to be really looking at. (And then be grateful there really isn’t a (scary) monster in my apartment.) (Or is there? //scares self)


Anyway just thought I’d share a thing that struck me during a friendly artist’s chat, because maybe it bears a bit of reflection for us artists. How do we think, and how does knowing that (or how can it) make us better at what we do?

Because I imagine we all want to be better at our craft, and ideation  (whether you can see it with your mind’s eye or not) is arguably at the very root ~ or rather the heart (maybe not the mind, really) of what we do.

Anyway, I’m just a Salieri (sorry, mein herr) (you are, of course, a great composer in your own right), what do I know, haha. What do you think?

And I mean literally, like if you're sick (or worse, injured) (and you’re not ambidextrous) (or have a fantastic futuristic orthosis-type thing) AND not if you’re in a slump.

Being sick (as in ill or unwell) and being in a slump are probably the top two reasons you can't paint EEEVEN if you super NEEED to (as in need which will always trump want).
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1. You have to work a day job.

I know I’ve written about artists having a day job on the jillablog until I was blue in the face, so that, plus the fact that I’m convalescing at the moment puts me in no mood to rehash that subject. But, say what some of us will, that’s the reality of it.

Maybe it won’t (and shouldn’t!) stop you, altogether. But there are some jobs where overtime is more the rule rather than the exception and all the caffeine in the world won’t help you squeeze in even an hour or two to paint if you’re pulling 12-plus-hour shifts. (By the way, here’s a video from Rafi and Klee that’s helped me with this ~ I hope it helps you, too ^^)

Funny, isn’t it? You HATE how the job keeps you from painting, but it’s the job that’s buying the paint.


2. You just don’t have the resources.

I’m not sure x don’t remember so well now but I think I remember Dad saying there are really only three resources in life: time, energy, and money. (As an aside, I used to be sort of Baroness Danglars and never said ‘money’ directly on the jillablog (heaven knows why). But, ehh…)

Well, see the last sentence of No. 1, and remember how paint, like the peso (our currency back here) doesn’t grow on trees.


3. Life happens.

I’ve also written before about how you’re not supposed to let nobody, nothin’ distract you from the grind time prime time (Source: @jstlbby). While I still totally adhere to this, realistically, life happens. As solitary as some of us are, chances are, we have obligations. Or, life throws you one curveball too many, and they have to be dealt with, as they’re thrown.

So the art gets put on hold! And some things aren’t dealt with as quickly as throwing a curveball, either…
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Or well I could be painting right now I guess but I don't want to push it or waste the meds my mom had to come all the way out here in the middle of the night to bring me. (Or well it was after dinner lol and she also brought lots of other goodies, too ^^)

Since my blog has become more of a *public diary* than anything else, just thought I'd write down what's been going on in my head during these *sick days*. That is, in the five days (today) I've been forced to park my brushes and forget about the two looming, immovable deadlines I have along with my pitifully finite and steadily dwindling resources.

There, wrote it down LOL

Helps to just, get it out there, I guess.
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And it's these things I’ve been thinking about now which I think (or hope, more like) might be worth sharing publicly, with anyone who might listen (or read) or who might find such things even remotely helpful to think about during times like this. That is, when you know you should be in the *painting factory* ~ and it’s just killing you by degrees the whole time you’re not ~ but you just. Can’t.


1. I've been in worse (or at least similar) scrapes before, and I've gotten out of them.

God willing, He will get me out of this one again. I’m not delusional enough to think I got out of the ones I did on my own (although I did so totally dive into these holes all by my glorious self). I’m also not delusional enough to think all I have to do is sit back and wait for my miracle, either. Like they taught us in school ~ you can pray all the livelong day to pass the exam, but if you don’t study…


2. Be GRATEFUL for the two looming deadlines you even have.

Believe me, I am. Profoundly. Eternally. Wholeheartedly. It’s kind of like the *happy problem* of having too much food for your tiny fridge, you know what I mean? (Like when Mom came over the other night <3)

Besides, heaven knows how hard it was to get one of those deadlines (as in I think I can say in a way I fought and I clawed for it) ~ and I’m gonna make it, too! (And the other one, too ~ see if I don’t!)


3. Again, you know who's there for you at times like this.

Right now, shout out to Mom of course <3 And my literal next door (I'm in Unit 2, she's in Unit 1) neighbour, Cris, who came over to bring me goodies, help me water my parched plants, and basically make sure I was still alive, haha.

And my brother for sending me videos of my sweet baby nephew (or well he’s one, now ^^) and nieces to cheer me up while I was schnorking up a storm (sorry, overshare ^^;).


4. You may be immortal, but you're not indestructible.

Like elves! They live forever IF you don't kill them, haha. Honestly, the older I get, the more aware of this I am, and I am trying to make sure I get enough sleep and stuff (that’s literally pretty much all I’ve been doing the past few days). But I guess it’s like they say ~ you can work out and eat leaves regular as clockwork ~ and still drop dead when you least expect it.

I guess the lesson I need to learn here is the best laid plans… need to factor in sick days (or *life days*). I usually do, honest! Only… yeah… ^^;


5. Think macro as well as micro.

Or rather, long term as well as short term. I mean, what’s five days (or six) in the face of five months? (Actually, it’s a huge dent T_T) But that wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.

See I’ve taken to building one or two *new* art castles in the air ~ my brother who sent me the videos knows about one of them. So maybe I should be thinking a little further ahead in that what’s happening, now? This is like, a stopover on the way to those castles. This is like that, forest of thorns Prince Philip’s gotta hack n’ slash through first to get to, you know.

Like this thicket isn’t the end. Like I said, I’ve been in thickets before. I just gotta be patient and keep hacking away. (Oh, I’m hacking, all right.) (Thankfully, a lot less and a lot easier now ^^) (Thanks, Mom <3) (And Dad T_T)
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Like maybe do a little planning ahead ~ for the pieces you’re working on now or have in the pipeline ~ research, or something ~ maybe even doodle or make a few thumbs. But I guess that wouldn't count as resting which is what you're supposed to be doing (I guess writing my blog now doesn't count much, but I kind of can't help it, so sorry).

But maybe you can do this sort of thing ~ okay maybe not at work (during your lunch break, perhaps?), and if life happens, you probably wouldn’t be able to focus on much else besides, life.

But you probably could do this while you’re waiting for (or working on getting) those resources. I guess, if you’re injured and you can still use (at least one hand) (even if it’s not your *arting* hand)…


I guess I’m just saying this because I’m afraid I spent much of the past few days (when I wasn’t trying to sleep this nasty bug off) watching movies and videogame playthroughs (no commentary, of course). Tell me if I’m just making excuses, but I barely had enough brain juice for anything else (e.g. taking meds, drinking Mom’s turmeric x ginger tea).

But anyway. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again (life moves pretty fast ^^ AND) ~ not being able to paint will drive you crazy, for sure. But you'll do no one (least of all yourself) any favours whatsoever by freaking out. Just stay steady and wait patiently for when you can go again (and when you can, start super out of the gate like the Kentucky Derby ^o^**)
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About a week ago, during a certain, super nerve-wracking (for me) (always) thing, I was asked on the spot who my influences were, and which artists I ‘copied’ (my interlocutor’s words, not mine).

This was kind of a difficult question for me to answer; I mean, I know what has influenced my art, I’ve written about that here on the jillablog before. But who, exactly, well. I mean, I know who my heroes are, at least, and I guess it makes sense for someone you admire to influence you, even in subtle ways, that is, even if you’re not, like, outright copying the work of that person.
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I do remember outright copying one person, though. When I was about 11 or 12 I guess (please excuse my poor memory, it was a gajillion years ago), I copied the illustrations out of a Wind in the Willows we had floating around in the house.

I remember copying the bunnies (it sure as heck wasn’t the t-o-a-d) (anyone who really knows me knows I have a mortal fear of those things). And I put my coloured pencil copies on handmade greeting cards for Easter.

I probably have one or two of the cards floating around in my ‘deep storage’ back here (which you can see in last month’s post) ~ and while I would’ve loved to post a picture here, I’m afraid I’m not inclined at the moment to dig them up ^^;

I’m ashamed to say I don’t 100 per cent remember who the illustrator was; I think I left the book behind me when I left my father’s house. But I’m fairly sure it was Michael Hague ~ it’s a bit difficult to figure that out now because of the bazillion versions of this book out there ~ in any case, I guess you could say he would be my first influence or art hero.

Anyway, I thought I’d write this post, mainly for my own benefit in case I should get asked this question out of nowhere again ^^; Mainly so I don’t feel like I’m being put on the spot or ‘forced’ to come up with an answer (that wouldn’t make me look (more) like an idiot or something hahahhahaha)

But because these are the three artists who I mentioned (in this order) on the spur of the moment as my influences, I guess one might say they really are. I’m kind of a big believer in, something someone says in the heat of the moment or something that was surprised out of you as in zero premeditation ~ 10 to one ‘must be the truth’ (as Sherly says).
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I’ve always been a huge fan. I guess here’s something I made that might be said to be an outright copy, although it was honestly not my intention when I made it at the time. (Can’t remember exactly when, but this photo is dated 2012.)

Do you know, I actually know somebody who doesn’t like his work? A good, very scholarly friend of mine back in uni take one, told me she found Vincent’s work very, I don’t know. Unrefined, or brusque, or raw. Funny cos that’s just what I love so much about it ~ even if you didn’t know his legendary back story that some have said pretty much eclipses his work, by now.

In any case, here’s one of my favourite forever websites (and one of gajillons I guess who’ve done this sort of thing with his work) ~ where you can lose yourself in his work.
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Since we’re being honest here (and I figure nobody reads these mental regurgitations of mine anyhow lol) ~ almost as soon as I said ‘Van Gogh’ I figured 1. Everybody says that (although I really and truly love him) and 2. That wasn’t very patriotic of me x I ought to be.

But I really do love Ang Kiukok’s work, and I first fell in love with it because of a blue painting of a horse I had a copy of on one of those blank greeting cards I had when… I was a lot younger ^^ I can’t find a photo of it online and while I’m fairly sure I have it floating around on my bookshelves somewhere, I’m probably not allowed to take a photo of that to share here.

But here’s a yellow painting of his of a horsey that I also love (and not just because of my horse thing, either).
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Okay, I’ll admit it’s my horse thing that makes me love Solomon Saprid lol ~ although, it’s the way he creates his tikbalangs that I’m just so crazy about (because of course, bazillions of artists have their own interpretations of my forever favourite monster <3).

I remember trying not to look weird in public (*dies laughing remembering how my sister had to tell me to stop sticking my tongue out in public just last Sunday*) (sorry, bad habit).  I had been staring at one of these epic (no other word for it, really) sculptures at Ayala Museum ~ I could spend forever just looking at it, you can almost see it move.
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Okay so, here’s the list I came up with over the past week since that ‘pop quiz’ last weekend (goes without saying the three above are ‘auto-on’ the list). I’m sure many of my heroes will be familiar to you ~ or at least I hope they are, particularly if you’re from where I’m from.

In any case I hope you’ll excuse the lazy Wikipedia links for those of them who are (from my neck of the woods), and my not being able to find Wikimedia Commons photos for some of them (like Saprid) ^^;
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Some of his work makes me uncomfortable but all of it really inspires me in terms of, you know, storytelling and stuff ^^ I particularly like this one, though (I’m glad Wikicom had a photo) ~
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I used to sleep over at my cousin’s house as a kid and I remember she had a print of this in her bathroom ^^ But when I got a little older and I got a book about Cassatt as a present I learned to appreciate her work more and fell in love with her work the same way I loved Joya’s drawings (see below).

She also taught me that it wasn’t always easy for girls to be artists ~ but you shouldn’t let a little thing like that stop you ^^
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I love this guy because losing yourself in his work is like dreaming with your eyes open.
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I have a soft spot for Botong for two reasons: one, because I couldn’t forget his work even if I wanted to because a sizeable chunk of my early advertising work was spent on promoting his work. (His paintings were printed on ‘phone cards’ (back in the day, we had public payphones you stuck cards into instead of change) and our client was the phone company.)

And two: While I was working on promoting his work I learned that he never finished art school ~ and that taught me that just because you didn’t graduate…
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My goal in life is to draw like this guy ~ after that, I can die. (So I’ll probably be immortal then LOL)

Oh, one funny thing about Ingres ~ I remember my art history teacher saying how the drawing paper was named after him (and very rightly, too). But you’ll never get anyone at the local bookstore to find it for you if you said his name right ^O^
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Weirdly, I only found out later that Joya was an abstract artist because the first works I ever remember seeing of his were these soft pastel mother and child drawings I fell in love with when I was about 12.

I have a vague memory of a gigantic non-rep mural of his in the lobby of this bank I used to work at which I could easily lose myself in (the mural, not the bank lol). I think this is it, but I can’t seem to find anything saying it had ever been at that bank’s head office.

My grand uncle used to have this magnificent watercolour landscape by Manansala above the buffet table in his dining room (this wasn’t it, but here’s one of them). I never minded having to wait my turn because I was always busy turning green with envy over how very wet and masterful that landscape was.

Honestly I have always been willing to give my eye teeth for that painting (and all my teeth for mad skills like that), but there’s never been any way on earth I could have afforded it (plus falling teeth is another deep seated phobia for me).
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Here’s another guy I ‘copied’ but only because I was required to in art school. No complaints here because 1. I learned ever so much doing that (in fact I’ve been toying with the idea of making something in the same style before I totally forget how to do it). And 2. I really enjoyed that plate because I did the stabbing detail in the Blinding of Samson ^_^

Seriously though, I’m almost as big a fan of his as I am of Vincent’s, and I would’ve auto-said his name after Vincent’s if I hadn’t thought, yeah. I love his drawings too the same way I love Ingres’.
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I talk about why La Douanier is my hero in my post about artists with day jobs.
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I love the soothing and hypnotic quality of Nena Saguil’s work, but I confess I liked her more when I came across this quote by Ambeth Ocampo:

When I asked her in 1984 why she never married, she replied: ‘Isn’t it the dream of every artist to do what he wants? To be free? Perhaps that's why I remained single. Perhaps God wanted me to become a painter. Besides, there is a moral side to it: How can I tell my husband, ‘Bahala ka na sa damit mo (‘Take care of your clothes yourself’), I have to paint’ ? And what about our children? One poet said that if you want to be an artist, you have to be alone. If you are alone you are one. If there are two of you, you become one-half ~ half of your personality is gone…’

(So sorry, I didn’t save where I saw this quote, and if this is bad because of copyright or something please let me know and I’ll delete this bit ^^;)
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So this is long now again, so sorry, but before I go, I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned how illustrated children’s books and comic books were and still very much are huge influences. (Along with video games and movies and music, and, and effin' and ^^)

For comic books, I have always admired Jim Lee and Jim Balent, and of course Whilce Portacio (and super of course, Akira Toriyama).

If you thought that was a super short shortlist, wait till you get a loada this one I’ve got for illustrators of children’s books (and then some ^_^).

• Kora Dandan-Albano
• Aldy Aguirre
• Robert Alejandro
• Quentin Blake

 

• Sergio Bumatay III
• Brian Froud
• Edward Gorey
• Greg and Tim Hildebrandt

 

• Alan Lee
• Arnel Mirasol
• Jason Moss
• Beth Parrocha

 

• Arthur Rackham
• Maurice Sendak
• Dr Seuss
• Brian Vallesteros

In closing I’d like to add two more art heroes to this list: Peter Villanoy and Jun Quinton, both of whom have watercolour chops I can only dream of. They’re the art directors I talked about under ‘The last of the Mad-hicans’ in my post about how my day job influences my art too.

Speaking of which, I’m actually seriously considering switching day jobs at the moment, but that’s a jillablog post for another time ^^
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​So I finally got around to renewing my expired content marketing certification (I know, like it shows, right ^^) And while I was at it I had to come up with blog topics and this was one of them ~ sort of like, ‘for your next blog’. So this is me kind of ‘giving truth to the lie’ ^o^

I do have a few thoughts on this, very personal thing ~ I think setting up one’s ‘painting factory’ as I’ve repeatedly, *affectionately* referred to it here on the jillablog ~ is like one’s toothbrush. (Or one’s hat, as H Marion Crawford’s Watson put it ^_^) Or having kids ~ none of other people’s business ^^

But you know ~ on the off-chance anyone who might just be starting out or wondering about how to go about setting up studio space ~ for what they’re worth, here’s a jillamonster’s two cents ^^;
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I had a ‘co-writer’ once (we were both writers for the same agency) who told me she knew a guy who made shelves and such and that he could probably make racks for my canvases. ‘So you can have a real studio,’ she said.

I also vaguely remember (when I was doing art class a few years ago) someone saying how their studio was their kitchen table. I remember thinking 1. As someone making giant (for me) paintings in literally half a room, I totally got that, and 2. Well that’s terribly practical. Access to water, for one, and schnacks for another.

I think (eheheheh here we go, here we go) many people might have a, romanticised idea of what it means for an artist to have a studio. You know, floods of natural light, picture windows, easels everywhere, that kind of thing.

Sorry, I know I say ‘I remember’ a lot ^^; (I’m at that age, I suppose.) But I also remember visiting ~ well quite a number of ‘houses of famous artists’ back here, but in particular one belonging to the dad of a fellow Inkie (who is a famous artist in her own right).

That was one *romantic* studio if I ever saw one ~ complete with racks too lol ~ completely separate from the adorably tiny *cottage* in the rear of a grassy (and *treesy*) backyard which was the studio proper.
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The artist with the kitchen-table studio seemed to me to be a bit embarrassed by not having a ‘real’ studio, but really, that person had zero cause to be.

Because for me, if you made art in your prison cell, for instance, your cell already is your studio (racks notwithstanding). If you made art on the road, that roadside, riverside, or crow-filled field of gold is your studio.

Heck, that said, when it comes down to it you don’t even need a bloody studio. All you need really is your giant brain and the urge to make something ~ you’ll find stuff to make it with and space to make it in as a matter of course.

And whatever stuff or space you find, I’m confident you’ll be able to *make do* ~ and make something wondrously fabulous, too ^_^*
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Okay when I say ‘need’ here what I really mean is ‘find these handy’ -slash-helpful-slash-useful in setting up your artist’s studio. Of course, your studio will depend on whether you paint, sculpt, install, and so on, and you’re going to have to factor in things like size and process.

So the following are things that I, as a painter have found handy, and what many of us as artists probably will, as well. Again, you won’t need all these things to just get started, but it might help to have them in mind as you put your studio together. In any case, it probably won’t be long before you find all these in your studio, anyhow ^^
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I mentioned size and process, so ~ obviously, someone who likes to drip paint onto 20-foot canvases will need more space than someone who prefers to paint individual hairs onto 2-inch canvases.

Although I’m very much a desk jockey type of artist I do like to have (lots of) space for working just so I don’t feel *claustrophobic* ^^ I think I’d say that even if I didn’t use to work in half a room, mainly because I like to be able to ‘stand up, back up, and look at’ the thing I’m working on (even if I made it at my desk).

​(In case you were curious, I used to have to open my bathroom door to do that in my half of the room ^o^; ) Thankfully, that’s gotten a whole lot easier to do here in my ‘dream-house-slash-studio’ where I like to keep that empty space also for when I need to *dig things up* (more on this in a bit).

I came across this ‘guy who got insanely rich and now makes YouTube videos for other guys who want to get insanely rich’ once, who said it’s a ‘productivity hack’ to keep what you needed for work, handy. While I was never a fan of these kinds of videos (I needed to watch that guy for work, once), that guy made a whole lot of sense.

I think the point was that some folks have a hard time ‘getting going’ because they need to ‘dig things up’ (no, this isn’t it yet lol) and ‘set things up’ before they can get around to actually arting. Get the easel out of a closet, for instance, unfold it, get the palette out, lay the colours out, arrange things, get some water, rags, and so on.

If all this stuff was handy or already out, then that’d make it easier, was what that guy was saying (no he wasn’t an artist, he was one of them online gazillionaire entrepreneurs or some such). In any case, that's why I’ve got this stuff handy in this here tray on my desk, and it’s in a tray so I can just move all of this off my desk in a jiffy if I needed the entire table top.

So yeah I’d be lying if I said I no longer dream of having a giant studio I can live and work in until I died (at this point I’d better hustle, lol). (Lately I’ve been rewatching a few episodes of that old vampire-turned-cop show where the bloodsucker in question lived in a warehouse ~ and he had oodles of space to paint (and a grand piano, too).)

~ mainly because having a giant studio would mean having everything readily accessible. That’d be the ultimate dream for me; until then, I need deep storage for the tools and things I don’t always use, as well as for finished pieces (and pieces that have yet to be born).

Incidentally, I remember (sorry) one of my classmates at art school who told me she made it a habit to just destroy her work after it served its purpose. ‘Preserve ~ I hate that word,’ I remember she said when she told me. (I mean she did live in a small apartment with her family so I totally understood, but I hope you know what I mean ^^; )

Speaking of that classmate (also my sometime fellow Inkie) I remember being inwardly horrified when she told me that ‘preserve’ thing and hoping that she at least preserved her award-winning work which I’m lucky enough to have a copy of…

…somewhere here, I think ^^; In any case, as part of deep storage you might also want to have a place for any books or references you use for your practice. I’m glad I have these shelves now because I used to have to stack my books back at my parents’ house and it’s so much easier to pick a volume out whenever I need it.
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Whatever size studio you have, I think it helps tremendously to set it up to make it easy to keep things tidy ~ especially if your space isn’t very big. ‘Clean as you go’ is one of my 7 ways to survive in a small studio, and that means keeping cleaning implements handy, and easy access to water for painting or cleaning your tools as well as waste disposal.

​So remember when I mentioned ‘digging things up’? This is why I find ample empty space especially helpful ~ it makes it so much easier to hunt up finished pieces in deep storage and clean up, afterwards.

One of my wonderful neighbours (who used to live in the flat I’m in now; she moved to the bigger one right beside mine) has told me how my apartment is much too big for just me alone ~ well, she hasn’t seen me dig anything up before, during which the empty space fills up fast (hence the daydreams about living in the vampire cop’s warehouse ^o^).

I realise calling this jillablog post a “how to” is a bit of a stretch ^^ But let me wrap it up by saying that as much as many of us will need to make the most of however much space we’re lucky to have ~ we will probably want to make space for a few *extras*.

In my case, those extras include the odd horse, the pillow for desk naps, and Mithrandir my studio gnome. Other than that, everything in the painting factory is completely utilitarian.

I mentioned schnacks earlier; having easy access to these and the artist’s best friend will probably be another consideration for ‘setting up shop’ ~ which is why, again, that artist with the kitchen-table studio arguably has the best studio ^_^

Speaking of which, it’s been ages since I’ve eaten anything so this is me toddling off to my pantry (haven’t got a kitchen-kitchen, myself ^^; ) now ^^ But if you’ve got any advice to share for setting up and maintaining a studio, I’d be very grateful if you could let me know.

I know it’s a brand new year and all ~ but there’s something I couldn’t help noticing about my work in the past year (and actually, in the past few), and it’s got something to do with colour.

This reminds me of something that happened waaay back when ~ I was giving something in to a book, a ‘group’ book ~ you know, the kind where everybody gives an illustration and they compile it. The thing I was supposed to be illustrating was a folk song about a butterfly.

My work was rejected because they said my work had always depended on colour (for it to be worth anything) and since all the illustrations were in black and white… (Anyway, lucky me x I guess they took pity on me and put my work in the table of contents. Not to be ungrateful or anything, but, yip (haha).

But anyway I’ll admit a lot of my work is colourful. The Secret Lives of Color quotes Goethe as saying ‘Savage nations, uneducated people, and children have a great predilection for vivid colours.’ (‘Well, there it is.’ ^^)

I also remember a couple of other things. One was when this famous artist I used to know and I were looking at some work at the Met (back here, not the one in New York), and she told me that this other, older famous artist said something like, iono. If the artist (or the art) is really good it shouldn’t have a whole lot of colour in it.

That was a very long time ago, but I remember thinking to myself something along the lines of, yah well whatever or, well then, I guess I suck.

The other thing was back at art school, it was the plate where we had to draw a thing transforming into another thing. (I remember I had a fishbone turn into a clock, and a dipper turn into a horse (of course).) You know me, I did it in rainbow colours because I’m just like that (I didn’t grow up having the mom that I have and watching Rainbow Brite and Care Bears for nothing).

One of my art prodigy classmates took one look at it and asked me why I didn’t take the plate seriously. Uh ~ I did, though. (Sometimes, I think I take my work way too seriously.) What ~ just because the colours were loud and happy, means I wasn’t serious?
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Not that I’m making what I make for them or anything. I’m just saying (finally lol) that lately, I don’t know. My colours seem to be less… just, less, haha. They're restrained, now, I guess.

And it’s not entirely because I’m running out of stuff, either.

(See around last year or so it occurred to me how much stuff I’ve got that I don’t use, so I’ve resolved to stop buying stuff (shyeah, right) and to make stuff with the stuff I already have. Yeah, I remember (and agree x totally see the point) (honestly) that famous artist I knew saying that what you make shouldn’t depend on what you’ve got, but ~

(~I mean, like I remember this Egyptian artist who did papyrus sculptures (not paintings)? Because… and this guy back here who paints on the mats we’ve got because… well they’re handy, aren’t they lol ~ and I’m not knocking that.)

Besides, I still buy colours (as in just the one) when I run out, because.

But yeah. I seem to have… I don't know. I’m just not feeling colour like I used to. And I think it shows.
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Because that thing Goethe said might explain it. Is it because I’m lazy ~ because, instead of having to juggle 10 or more colours I’ll only have to deal with six (still a lot) or, four.

You know, in a way, that’s kind of more work actually because then I’ll start mixing those four to get the colours in between. Also, I’ll use ‘analogues’ for the colours I removed from my palette.

Take the marmots above, for example. My palette was basically (please excuse my ‘colour maths’) (and the bad photo):

In case you can’t see it, I limited myself to just vermillion, sienna, umber, and ochre. Ochre was my analogue (or replacement) for yellow, umber for blue, and vermi for red. I did go in with chartreuse, pthalo blue and alizarin but super limited (for the berries, you know).

Anyway so then I started doing

• Ochre + vermi
• Ochre + sienna
• Ochre + umber

Like that. Again, I remember that famous artist I mentioned (not the older one) was heavily into earth colours. And right now, I’m remembering (I may have mentioned this before) the song from the Barnum musical where Barnum’s wife was saying how earth colours were nice, too (and how it didn’t have to be all loud circus colours).

But I do remember when I first appreciated ochre ~ it was when I was working on Sinta ~

~ I realised how bright, warm, and happy ochre could be, too. And also, another memory (am I about to die? Because I’m remembering all these things and it’s that whole ‘life flashing before your eyes’ thing?) ~ when I was 12 or so I was taking art lessons at a gallery and my teacher (who was from that famous art school back here) ~

She said to mix a colour with its opposite colour (on the colour wheel) to make it darker. I was 12 so that blew my mind, like you think well, chuck some black in there to make it darker (or white if you wanted it lighter). It was only much, much later when I got older that I appreciated what she meant.

And now I’m thinking maybe all those browns aren’t so “matronic” after all. (Maybe because I’ve reached that age.) (I mean, yes they are LOOOL but, I think I might be keeping a more open mind, now haha)
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Not that anyone cares but, I’d like to take this opportunity to explain that the loud colours (and toothy grins) weren’t because I was happy, necessarily. I seem to remember explaining this once before ~ that those things were aspirational. I’m actually just as miserable (and toxic, cowardly, etc etc, yes yes) as I ever was in those days (ROFLMAO).

​​Is it because I’ve given up on ever being happy, then? I don’t know. But I do know that my palettes are often influenced by my mood. As well as the thing I’m trying to get across. I don’t think I have to go into, you know, colours sending certain messages or meanings or whatever ~ there’s more than enough literature by faaar smarter people than I am for that.

In any case, I don’t think I’m distressed, necessarily by the turn my colour choices have taken, of late. I’m just, remarking on it, or noting it, is all. And wondering, idly, whether my colours will ever go back to the loud vitriolic punches-in-the-eye they might have been, once.

They say it’s natural x normal for people to change and we have to if we’re to grow and survive. And artists are people (I hope) (not beasts) (Fauves not withstanding). I remember wanting to go back to the ‘purity’ of how I used to do blobs, but with these marmots I feel like I don’t want to make any more, or any more potatoes, either. At least, not for a good long while.

(And even if it’s Year of the Horse this year, I don’t think I want to make any more notebook steeds, either.)
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If anything, I hope this, shift ~ in my colour choices, technique, or whatever ~ is a sign of real change ~ hopefully of growth for me as an artist.

Come to think of it, when I was doing knifework on the last piece I did last year, I was ‘cheating’ (i.e. I wasn’t laying the scales on in order). It turned out messier (which bothered the control x neat freak in me ~ but, I liked how it turned out, better).

I mean, isn’t that what this is all about? Becoming better (whatever that means for you)? I remember (again so sorry) wondering what it meant to ‘grow as an artist’ ~ I can’t say I’ve figured that out at this point but I’m hoping I’m at least (finally) starting to get there (I ought to be after 20 years ^^)

I’d like to end by saying that while it is (and always has been) very dear to me, colour isn’t the be-all, end-all of my work. I do have a lot of work (even from my *happy colour days*) where I used limited or monochrome or achromatic palettes (just sayin’ ^^). And that maybe, that’s just where I’m at or where I’m headed these days, is all.​

I honestly don’t know where or how my work is going to end up but wherever it is, I hope that if nothing else it’s someplace I (if no one else) can say is better. 
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You know how I always seem to get those chatty cab drivers? The ones who start telling you their life stories for no good reason (certainly not because I ask)? Well for the next eight days I’m stuck with one of those who cross-questions you like they took an interrogation training course with the CIA.

He started by asking me what I did for a living. It was around 3AM, I was exhausted, and therefore unprepared with a more diplomatic answer. I said it was complicated and, what with things being lost in translation, I just went with the naked truth and told him I was an artist.

'Oh,' says he, in our native tongue. 'That must be nice, you get to have fun.'

So sorry, I know, and, I know. Chalk it up to my fatigue, but that really ticked me off.

'Fun, is it?' I couldn’t help retorting, as best I could in words I hoped he could understand. 'Yeah, that’s what folks who don’t know would say.'
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​Heck, I should’ve just said I was a writer ~ I wouldn’t have been lying, and though that’s an altogether different rabbit hole (though I’ve linked that to my artist persona in another post), it would’ve been an easier one to ‘defend’ given my mental state at the time.
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But I had just ‘come out of the painting factory and into his cab’ so the truth-truth came out.

Forgive me, but I couldn’t help myself. Long and short of it was I spent the next few kilometres or so going into how many people might think art was fun ~ that it was some sort of hobby. Well, it is ~ for some people. For others of us, well, it’s something we take a little more seriously.
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I’m pretty sure I’ve said in another jillablog post about how there’s really no point in trying to (forgive me) educate some people about this. If some folks think art is, whatever, then, that’s what they think, what we make is not for them, and everyone is entitled to you know what.

Besides ~ have I not also, in still another post ~ gone into why art is a very happy thing (a very happy thing, indeed)?

But just because something makes you happy ~ or brings you joy ~ doesn’t mean you don’t have to work both glutes off to get it (and more often than not, the hams and the legs attached to them, too).

You’d think I’d be used to it by now, though, after all these years (which again, I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned in yet another yadda yadda) ~ folks not, thinking very much of what it is we artists do (at least, not until (or not unless) it makes enough to buy a house in Tuscany.
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But I guess my reaction to this honest cab driver’s blithe remarks showed me this was still a raw spot.

Artists have been ‘misunderstood’ since people started painting their cave walls.

But then I suppose anybody who doesn’t do any thing is bound to not understand the thing simply because they don’t do it.

Like I will never really know what it’s like to have a baby. I remember the last ‘real ad agency’ I was in, the creative director and the account director were talking about this (our client at the time was baby formula) ~ I tried to, you know, join in in the conversation but they ignored the shiz out of me because well what did I know, you know?

I mean sure, my Mom had six kiddles after me and I remember seeing five of them as babies but that doesn’t mean shiz.

The ‘classic’ example I’ve heard is how doctors understand what it’s like to have certain illnesses even if they’ve never actually had the illnesses themselves because they’ve studied them.

​But I guess nothing beats first-hand experience. Like that psychologist on YouTube who says he’s actually suffered from depression himself. That does lend his advice more, credibility (for lackuva better), I guess.
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(And heaven knows I’ve gotten into enough trouble for airing what I think online) ~ but I guess my, ‘objective’ here (if there is one apart from the ‘classic’ vent) is to let any fellow artists out there (if any of us would be even remotely interested in what I had to say eheheh) know that ~ they’re not alone in feeling this way.

I mean, if any of us out there do (because maybe it’s just, immature x childish (toxic, miserable, etc) me) ~

I mean ~ if you’ve spent literal years (not just a few months, which I’ve heard an ‘art guru’ (whom I respect deeply, actually) mention as a time frame for some artists to ‘stick things out before giving up’) ~ not sleeping, not spending time or money or whatever on, I don’t know, friends, family, holidays, shopping ~ sacrificing, basically, just to ‘do this art thing’ ~

And then have someone who doesn’t even know shiz about you say, rather flippantly, or, dismissively, or, ‘nice weather we’re having-ly’, ‘Gee, that must be fun ~’

I don’t know if I’m at all justified for feeling this way or being rubbed the wrong way ~ I suppose I’m not ~ but I’m afraid I was.
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For what we do ~ especially now when, I guess, maybe, what little folks like me ever had is even less now because nowadays we can get computers to do it (not a rabbit hole I’m willing to go down here x I hope you know what I mean x what I didn’t mean x so sorry).

It’s true, I guess, these days, that years of experience or training or whatever don’t mean jack when really it’s all about the final product or the end result.

Just today, I was, venting again, I guess, to a fellow creative about how I’d made a mistake approaching what used to be considered a creative process as a creative process, when circumstances dictate otherwise.

I guess I’m wrong x I generally am, but I understand the goal of a creative process is make something beautiful and well-made. The circumstances I just referred to had the goal of making something that sells (and to Hades with creativity or craft or whatever).

Of course, there are lots of kinds of creativity and that was a gross generalisation or a sweeping statement so wide it woulda wiped across seven continents.
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Or making like it’s, something worth doing. Like Count put it, ‘Do you believe you have anything to do? or to speak in plain terms, do you really think that what you do deserves being called anything?’

In a perfect world, none of us ~ whether we were artists or not ~ should have to ‘defend’ what we do, I guess. I mean, I guess most people wouldn’t ask doctors why they were doctors or, you know.   Cab drivers why they drove cabs.

Heaven knows why, but that cab driver said he actually thought I was an accountant! ‘No way,’ I said. ‘I flunked math.’ ‘I’m fairly good at maths myself,’ he returned.

‘Who cares,’ I found myself thinking (so sorry). In any case, when I get back into his cab in a few hours or so, I think I’ll just not tell him any more (heaven knows I’ve told him enough about the ‘fun’ we have having our work rejected or pulling all-nighters or scrambling for exhibit funding or having our career choices criticised).
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But I’m hoping I’m not wrong to, wish, I guess, that more people appreciated, a little more, all the work that goes into what we do. It’s true that it can be fun, we can get our kicks out of it, but it’s so much mooore than that.

For some of us (those of us who have ‘earned’ it (however you want to define ‘earn’) I guess, at least), it’s something that deserves a little more respect, or consideration. I hope I earn it, someday (not holding my breath) ~ but until then I’ll make this wish for those of us who have.
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