Alluvion Process
Alluvion: the action of the sea or a river in forming new land by deposition.
The idea of ‘water making land’ has been on my mind for awhile as I’ve been working.
It’s the parallel between that process and my process (both water-based and water-dependant, and both make something where there wasn’t before) that has been in the back of my mind, beckoning me to explore it.
With that thought in mind I set to work on a few 5 x 7 canvases.
Those drips <3
I may be bringing these for the fair in Chicago - so I’m not going to list them for purchase just yet.
Sign up for my email, or follow me on insta to see when they are released to the public.
My Process; Photographing Work
*** This isn’t going to be about the technical aspects of photographing work. There is a plethora of great information online about how to properly and professionally photograph your work and I would just be rehashing it.
Here are two resources for the technical side of things;
I want to focus more on the importance of photographing your work (or simply seeing it) out of the studio, out of the context of it’s creation and in an intended atmosphere - be it on a wall of a home or office or gallery. ***
Where i photograph work currently - StudioStudioA2!
I started doing this back in Miami when I was a babyartist. Our condo building had a lounge up on the 11th floor that I could usually have all to myself. I would scope it out first and then bring up paintings and drawings in various states of done-ness to photograph separately and as collections.
Those windows…..
So much white.
I would usually begin with each painting on it’s own, photographed in a few different places if I’m able. This practice gave me an immense amount of insight into the work; ideas about the paintings became clear in these limited palette-surroundings. Things that would have been harder to glean in the mess and chaos of my teeny tiny artspace jumped out at me. Like little meditations on each one, without the distraction of the other work/the rest of our apartment.
Once each painting had their own little photoshoot (I would use several cameras, phone/DSLR/instax) I would start to combine works, to see what stories they had to tell each other. Sometimes collections would emerge from pieces I previously thought were unrelated. Sometimes I’d see holes, movement and colors that still needed to be addressed. I’d usually always learn something about the next steps, next direction to take the pieces. Or my favorite response from the paintings; I’m done, leave me be.
This practice is still very much a part of my process, though I’ve had to do some digging to find places to photograph work now that I don’t have access to a fancy lounge. The only rule I need to follow for the process to work is ; not in my studio.
Not around my other work, or supplies or sketches. To remove the pieces entirely is what works best for me.
Places I’ve tried (and you can too!*)
*with proper safety measures in place, because, you know, pandemic. Or better yet, make a plan now so that when we’re all safe and vaccinated you know where to go/who to call to set things up!
Reach out! Do you have a friend with a cool house? A nice big wall? Maybe send them a message and see if you can borrow it for an afternoon of photography. This can be especially handy if you want to show your work in the homes of your customers, it will give them an idea of how it can be styled/displayed.
Do you go into an office? Perhaps they have a nice minimal conference room with big windows you can use to set up work. Especially if you are trying to find more clients in the business sector - catering your imagery to where you want your work to live will help your prospective buyers imagine your work in their space.
School stairwells can be amazing little spaces of contrast between walls/floors if you’re going for a stark ‘gallery’ type image. If you find yourself on the campus of a college perhaps check out a few hallways, a good white wall and gleaming cement floor are always nice backdrops for photos.
(( Just keep in mind that good lighting is literally everything when photographing work, so either bring your own kit (which is usually fine in homes/offices but can be a little tricky if you are out in a public/semi-public atmosphere like a school) or make sure you have good windows in your immediate vicinity. ))
Rentable locations! Check your area for photography studios that might have rooms for rent. This is a really good option if you’re starting to consider prints, or wanting to control all aspects of the photo, as these studios usually have high-quality lighting kits and all sorts of the right equipment to produce perfect photos.
Without access to that fancy lounge in Miami I floundered for a bit looking for a good room to take pictures in, borrowing garage space/storage space/cool basement walls for photos. But with the opening of StudioStudio here in Ann Arbor, thankfully, I’ve got my go-to spot back again and many more photoshoots of artwork will be happening in the future.
How my Tools and Space Inform my Process
My favorite paintings to work on usually are borne out of two conflicting modalities; Chaos and Order.
The push and pull between the two forces drives a lot of the interaction and movement of my work - and it’s something I only “half” control.
I control the sketches, the fine details, the colors of the paints I mix - but I don’t control the way the paint moves on the surface. I don’t control the spills, the drips, the intermingling of pigment and resulting colors. Working in this intuitive way imparts a focus that I haven’t found with another process. The work is informed by the process and the process informed by the work. It’s a cyclical opposition that relies heavily on my space and tools.
My space is crooked.
My studio is in a building that pre-dates 1891 and the floors show it. There is a 2.5 inch slope from one side to the other, which doesn’t seem like much - but when you are working with water media it’s very noticeable. I absolutely could have evened the floor out, but chose to accept another facet of the unplanned; gravity was going to change my work. When I put down a pool of paint it runs downhill. I can leave it as it, or spin the work to change it’s course, but that is about the extent of my control. I can’t leave a work unattended either, as sometimes in the drying process areas of the painting will overflow into another, pushing the paint down the canvas. This has resulted in a relatively different studio experience for me - rather than leave as a work dries I now sit there (usually with another painting or some other facet of my job that needs doing - like blogging!) and literally - watch. Paint. Dry.
Sometimes I catch the drips and move the painting, sometimes I happily let them spill all the way down, grabbing other colors as it moves.
It’s another part of the chaos and I love it.
My tools also have a part to play in the balance between planned and unplanned.
Probably best characterized by my two favorites; the loose hake brush and the precise rubber wedge (or squeegee). I frequently have one in each hand and move the drying paint around with both, one making hard to control splutters of the pools, the other cutting through and leaving small, tight lines in it’s wake.
It’s in their interaction that I learned to love and embrace the dichotomy of chaos and order and begin to seek it out as I worked. And then, I saw it everywhere.
The flower growing in the crack in the cement; just a flower in a field - but here in this moment it’s transformed into something miraculous.
But I have to love it loosely. If I let myself get too caught up in the order aspect and find myself ‘planning’ the chaotic elements, I lose that magic that the flower possesses. Then the work is an exercise in making something look ‘unplanned’ and in my mind, fails at it’s purpose.
Allowing my tools and my space to contribute their essence and spirit to my process has made for a far more fulfilling and challenging studio practice.
I’d love to know more about your practice - do your tools inform your work? Does your space change your paintings? Leave me a message below!
<3
Collage as a Sketch
When I get into the studio first thing in the morning I like to take a bit of time to wake up, drink my coffee and check -in with my plans for the day. During this time I usually doodle on spare paper, make a few quick thumbnails or throw together a collage really quick. Nothing that requires any significant thought, just a little exercise to start moving the day in the right direction.
Collage materials!
I keep a box of pre-cut, (or ready-to-be-cut) things next to my desk for specifically these times. Paint chips, magazines, old photos, print-outs, old sketches.... anything goes! I look for pattern, form, movement, anything that catches my eye or begs further exploration and cut those moments out. Once I've assembled those I start cutting further, grabbing for the essence of what drew me to them.
I really want to play with the shadows on these pots.
Materials Used:
Head over to my Amazon shop for links to all the materials:
- Canson watercolor sketchbook
-Elmers Adhesive Spray
-Derwent pastel pencils
-Ultramarine Acrylic Paint
At this point I just start playing. Layering color on pattern, adding daubs of paint, pencil lines... all that matters is I'm experimenting and staying curious.
Sometimes I take the finished collage and sketch around it, playing with color and rhythm - just expanding on the shapes found. It's a great exercise before digging into work and other projects!
I'd love to hear about your experiences with collage - how do you find the pieces you use?
My Studio Bullet Journal
Well, it's not really a REAL bullet journal. I don't have the patience to make sure everything is lined up and perfectly straight (though I WISH I did, when executed with exactness bullet journals are so, so beautiful!)
It's taken a decade or two for me to understand that if I commit to a habit, I need to have wiggle room - and while a perfectly designed and measured bullet journal might work for a few days, it's not something I'll keep up. So, messy, unmeasured journal it is.
My main focus is to break the day down into blocks for scheduling, but also keep a running tab of non time-specific to-dos. Between these two and all the extra space for notes, sketches and other blurbs I have found my holy grail for keeping the studio organized.
The physicality of the journal is super important to me. This journal isn't something that leaves my studio, and I absolutely have enough filled books already -- so the bigger the better.
This the Art Alternatives Giant Sketchbook (currently out of stock on Amazon, but I have few others listed in my shop here) and it feels like a wizard's tome. It's really heavy, but when I pull it out to plan the day and hits my table, it feels like this sacred moment before finding some ancient bit of knowledge... it engages me completely.
If you've never kept a bullet journal before, there are a bunch of great tutorials on Skillshare. To sign up follow this link and get access to their videos for 2 months for just 99 cents! I think the most important part is to find a system that clicks with the way you work and the habit will naturally take root. I couldn't commit to a perfectly measured out grid book, and I imagine in some one else may not be able to keep a book that was as scrawly and uneven as mine. Find what works for you!
If you do keep a studio journal of sorts, I'd love to see it! Comment below with an image or link of your journal, or share your organizational practices - maybe I can learn something new :)
