Ode to a Complicated Spring
My studio is flickering back to life after an admittedly overindulgent winter slumber. Plenty filled the season, but my artistic output felt scattered and pulled in too many directions to settle into anything steady.
Recently I have put a great deal of effort into my fifth posthumous portrait. I will be posting more including the details of how this process is different from traditional portraits, as well as the progression from start to finish soon. I will mention this. That being an artist who believes with all of my being that to create great Art you have to be emotionally available to your subject, these portraits can take a toll. Life can be so beautiful, and so unfair. After a week of staring into this beautiful young lady's eyes and creating not only her likeness, but something beyond, I decided I needed a respite..
The next morning, on my way to the studio, I noticed the daffodils had pushed up overnight. Sudden, bright, unapologetic. A quiet signal that winter had loosened its grip. I think we all need Spring now more than ever. I clipped a couple and brought them to my studio to paint. Here is that project.
I originally intended this to be a two hour painting with a limited palette, but it ended up more of a reflection of my complicated emotions, and with it, a complex palette and as much time as needed to express what this spring means to me.
I started, as I often do, with a small charcoal composition on a 6” x 6” canvas. Then came color. You’d think daffodils would be a study in yellow, but they’re really not. They’re a conversation between green and violet. Violet tempers yellow without dulling it, and the yellows themselves lean toward green when you really look. That’s where the truth lives.
At first, I worked in 20-minute intervals set by a timer. Then, inevitably, I ignored it and painted through the afternoon. The same quiet questions looped in my head: Is that warmer or cooler? Lighter or darker? Does this need to be restated? You chase those answers until the painting settles. And then you check again the next day.
I present to you my “Ode for Spring.” Not entirely a happy painting, as most daffodils express, but an honest reflection of where my heart is this spring. Introspective and thankful for all of life's beauties. Even if they are temporary or unfair.
“Ode to Spring” Oil on panel by Don Ripper 6” x 6” available in the studio
If you have peonies coming up in your yard that I could paint or photograph, I’d love to hear from you. I’m planning a series of nocturnes that will include them. Many thanks.
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