Artfest, Day 3-Veils of Psyche

Some days, things just go right.

Like my second day of Artfest classes, in "Veils of Psyche" with Andrea Matus: things started out well and just got better. Andrea started us off composing our pieces much like I do at home:

siddown and start layering the "veils" or elements on the floor to see how they fit. Or don't.

In addition to our own paper stashes, Andrea gave us more in our class packet. There were sweet fairy and flowery bits, but also graphic scrapbook papers more suited to the image I photocopied.

Courtesy Library of Congress

All was well at first... the focal point was compelling, I had some metal ephemera that underlined the subject's masculinity but didn't "otherize" him into a dime-store wooden Indian stereotype, and Andrea helped me with the paper layout.

But she warned us: there will be a point where you panic and think it's crap. You'll either think it's ruined, or about to be -- but DON'T STOP! (because you can usually rearrange or salvage things). And when I began painting the man's face, the flow was fantastic... so much so that I started to feel like I was racing on a thoroughbred and I wasn't sure I'd make the turn. What do I do next?! How do I keep from plunging headlong into disaster?!

You step back and reassess, is what you do. Andrea took me and the piece outside so I could catch my breath... she stepped back so I could see it from another angle... and talked me down.

Breathe.

And then I began the scramble to get everything down on the substrate before critique time. (I never finish early.)

And things just went right for pretty much the entire class.

I've since polished up a few things here and there, and here's the completed piece:

Look at his chin: These are the words that shoved me into the man's internal story:

-- The land is ours, papa. -- No, sir, it is his. How could I not use that conversation snippet?

That obscured compass under a faceted watch face...

the extension of his hair highlights into the metal stencil...

the paper fence echoing the toy one (the missing posts are placed in his headband)...

and the verdigris I extended into the background paper, and onto the watch to echo the pale green paper Andrea gave me...

The piece just took off running and carried me with it.

As I was working in class, a woman named Karla oohed and ahhhed over it, and said she'd consider buying it because she loves Native Americans depicted in art. So in a daze, I gave her one of my cards and went back to flinging paint. Should I hold it for her, or should it be available now to you if you're reading and you want it? Tell me in the comments or email me!

Next up: Vendor Night, in which I survive the stampede and come out sparkling.

Artfest, Day 2-"Iron Chef," Artist Edition

The regular "Iron Chef" TV show pits one chef and crew against another to create a four-course dinner in an hour. Pikers! Try making a piece of art in 45 minutes!

 

You have to use at least five of the ten elements on your table. Oh, and you'll have to force the elements to work together. Go!

Some of the Artfest instructors accepted the challenge, including Michael deMeng and Andrea Matus (you'll see her in tomorrow's post)...

Jill Berry (I call her piece "Bound and Determined")...

MaryBeth Shaw...

and Clarissa Callesen, who suddenly realized time was running out. (This video's NSFW, so turn down your speaker volume):

There's no winner -- unless 'we're all winners here!' --

-- but it's hilarious and exciting watching the creative process cranked up to 11...

... in all its weird manifestations.

Ta-da! Tomorrow: Day 3 of my classes at Artfest with Andrea Matus, in which I freak out just a tetch. Leave a comment here or friend me on Facebook so I can hear what you have to say!

Artfest, Day 2-Strange Angels

Yes, it's late, but it's still Tuesday! Keeping my promise!

It's been four freakin' years and three retreats (wow, that many already?) since I took a Michael deMeng class. This one was "Strange Angels." Your choice as to whether it's a fallen one.

I already knew what I wanted to do: make a 3D version of a joke my former boss and I shared. At my day job, I interview people for a colon cancer research project. During my second call ever to a study participant, someone actually answered the phone, the widow of the person I was trying to reach. I was doubly taken aback, and stammered, "I'm so sorry," and the widow replied tearfully, "I'm sorry, too" -- and hung up.

My boss chuckled at my shock and promptly named me the Angel of Death.

So I got to work on my alter ego in Thursday's class.

First rule of a deMeng class: bring only those things you're willing to strap down, dismantle, or disembowel.

Next: figure out how you're going to attach things. Drilling and wiring, or joining them with caulk, will keep two separate items together a lot better than using some sort of glue alone.

Bonus points for getting the instructor to make sparks fly!

Oh, but the most fun part is the paint. Oh, the paint washes!

How cool is this? I wish I'd thought of detaching the legs of my angel. (Wait, that sounded really sick.)

They make everything pretty and ghoulish and delightfully grungy, they do.

And I got ghoulish, all right. Bound to happen when I wrap a colon around an angel of death...

... as she clasps a ghostly hand.

For delicate connections like the hands, I learned to add an "armature" -- here, it's a wire running between the two hands to add support like a skeleton supports a human body.

Another thing I learned: blacking out a doll's eyes almost makes you forget it used to be a Barbie.

It's more of a study than a finished piece -- I'd like to add and change a few things. But wow, the next version could be really cool!

Tomorrow: "Iron Chef" Artist throwdown! Watch the instructors turn out finished art in 45 frantic minutes of painting, gluing, and heat-gunning!