Artfest, Day 3-Flirting with Photoshop

Okay, when I said "tomorrow" in the last post I was thinking "Monday." Sorry about that.

In spite of staying up late the previous night, hanging with Nancy...

Tally, and Janine...

I got up AN HOUR EARLY to semi-finish my Strange Angels piece, and it put me into a great mood by the time everyone came downstairs for breakfast. Off to "Flirting with Photoshop" with Pamela Huntington.

I really need to know how to do more than crop photos (even though you've seen I'm the mayor of Croptown). Use this background here... add some bits from finished pieces there... you're 2/3rds done with a new piece, like one Pamela displayed at the Artfest gallery.

And Tally was signed up for the class too. Bonus!

But things are bound to slow down for everyone if your computer refuses to read the class CD, and the instructor has to figure out what the hell is wrong with your computer. Poor Dale.

Even after getting over that hump, she had trouble opening files, which kept her two or three steps behind. Tally, on the other hand, was bored out of her mind.

I fell behind too, scribbling notes. Took a break, but I just got more frustrated when I came back. Meh. (Pamela's now friends with me on Facebook; I'll deluge her with questions some other time.) Off to dinner downtown at the Fountain Cafe, where I entertained myself taking faux Polaroids after Tally's real Polaroid refused to take pictures in anything but direct sunlight.

 

Tonia promised this little hole-in-the-wall had seriously mouthwatering food. Half the instructors from Artfest must've agreed, because they took our seats after we licked our plates clean. We raced back up to Show & Tell with a half-hour to spare -- or so we thought.

Done! Empty except for a few stragglers! We'd tried to bring our pieces early, but we were too early... and then we were too late. So, off to Artisans on Taylor to see Professor Goofballigus deMenticus.

Several pieces from Michael's book "Dusty Diablos" were on display at the gallery reception. My camera battery died, but I breathed heavily over each and every one as I scrutinized them from every angle.

 

And guess who else was there? Pamela, with Andrea Matus (who also happens to be dating Michael).

I missed out on dancing at Sirens later on, but I'm sure it'll be there after next year's Artfest classes. And there's your full Artfest recap, boys and girls. Hey, if you haven't sent me a Facebook friend request or clicked on the Like button, now would be an excellent time to do so! I'd love to hear from you.

Artfest, Day 2.5-Vendor Night

Remember how crowded it got at Artfest Vendor Night back in 2008?

Yeah, same thing this year too. But this time I didn't have to twiddle my thumbs and wait until someone figured out she didn't really want to buy a necklace. (I'm lookin' at you, Norma.)

This year, I found another lovely necklace...

this one made by Kecia Deveney, one of the most talented -- and BUSY -- artists I know.

Way back in 2007 when we shared a hotel room for Art & Soul Portland, I used to watch through exhausted eyes while she blogged the day's events before going to bed. Driven! Kecia didn't bring a mirror for potential customers, so I came up with a solution: take a phone photo of the person wearing the jewelry, then show them the photo. Like this, modeled by the lovely Janine Shea:

(Come to think of it, the last art necklace I bought was from another roomie, Liesel Lund. See how being my friend profits you in so many ways?) It was all about supporting hard-working, talented friends that night. Andrea Matus (remember, she taught the class I'd just had) let me go home with this fascinating suspended piece.

I like how the metal element looks like a deconstructed mouth and tongue sticking out.

A little too tired to take many more photos, but I couldn't leave without a photo of Sarah from "Gilded Age Massage Experience."

Yes, that's an actual corset, and she wears it every day. Wonder how comfortable that is to wear while kneading someone's back into submission... Ow. Ow ow ow gasp ow.

Speaking of supporting friends, don't forget to Like my friends-and-supporters page in the upper right corner of le blog. It would be ten kinds of awesome if you followed this blog too! Tomorrow: last day of classes...

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.