My students are often surprised to hear me tell them that I’m not sure what I’m doing, or what I’m going to do next when I paint.

This usually happens when I’m starting a new painting, or working on one in front of class.

What they might not realize is that I hope I never really know what I’m doing next!

I don’t want to know exactly how something is going to turn out. Where is the excitement, the fun, the thrill of adventure, if that happens?

I’m a painter and, as such, I love to paint. (I’m also a teacher who loves to teach and a writer who loves to write, but I digress).

Recently I got to test out my desire of not knowing what I’m doing by painting some giraffes on a red clay flowerpot for the Honolulu Zoo’s 2015 Gala Fundraiser, “Growing Wild.”

I have wanted to paint the animals of Africa for at least three years. Knowing me, you might be able to guess why I haven’t done so — I haven’t made the time to go to the zoo to sketch the animals!

The Honolulu Zoo gave me (and a few dozen other artists) a 10” red clay flowerpot to paint. This was the perfect opportunity for me to paint Giraffes.

First I painted Daniel Smith’s white watercolor ground on the pot and let it dry for 24 hours. This enabled the pot to accept watercolor paint.

Next, using photos supplied by a friend taken on “safari” at the San Diego Zoo, I sketched three giraffe heads on the pot.

I’m used to painting with my paper upright, so I wasn’t expecting problems painting on the vertical pot. But the watercolor ground isn’t quite as absorbent as paper, and the paint dripped in unexpected ways.

No worries. Realizing smooth washes were not going to come easily, I took a more painterly approach, blending the colors on the pot the way an oil painter might blend them on canvas.

The beauty of watercolor is its translucence, and that characteristic came through as I layered colors upon blended colors. I even added pinks to brighten up some of the warm patches on the faces of the giraffes.

I have one step left: seal the pot so the paint is permanent. This isn't a step normally taken with watercolor paints, but it is necessary for this painting adventure to be successful.

The flowerpot was a joy to paint and I hope it raises a lot of money for the Honolulu Zoo. The animals in our care deserve the very best. After all, they give their best to us each and every day they share with us.

One of the things I love about painting is that I continually see the world through “new eyes.” When we look at things through the lens of curiosity, we learn more about the world in which we live.

When I first visited the Waikiki Aquarium with my Lotus Aqua Art Escape class in April, I was unprepared for the way the octopus there grabbed my attention. 

He still has me in his grips! Which isn’t that surprising considering the gripping strength of these 8-armed cephalopods could theoretically pick up a two-ton truck. But then why would it do that?

Breaking Free/Tinker Tako

On the recommendation of two of my readers, I breezed through “The Soul of an Octopus” by Sy Montgomery. Ms. Montgomery is a naturalist who, through her book, introduced me to three octopuses she got to know personally through the Boston Aquarium.

It was through her book and some NatGeo Wild documentaries; that I learned the information I’m sharing here. When using direct quotes, I have indicated the page numbers of Ms. Montgomery’s book. 

Did you know that octopuses’ eight arms are sensory organs extraordinaire? Each arm has the ability to taste as well as touch and grip. Octopuses in captivity enjoy being touched, and in touching their human keepers. 

Unknotting the nots

Octopuses live very short, yet active lives. During the average life span of 1–3 years in the wild, they are both prey and predator. Being a master of disguises enables them to capture their own food while keeping them safe from those in search of a delicious meal. 

“Cephalopods have a command of 30–50 different camouflage patterns per individual animal, and can change color, pattern, and texture in 7/10s of a second!” p. 45

An octopus will lay hundreds of thousands of eggs before it dies, yet only 2 in 100,000 hatchlings will survive to maturity. Octopuses start life the size of a grain of rice and drift along with plankton until they are large enough to settle on the bottom of the ocean.

Octopuses are found in the myths of many native peoples. 

“The Gilbert Islands has an octopus god,'Na Kika,' said to be the son of the first beings. With his eight strong arms, he shoved the islands up from the bottom of the Pacific.

The people of the NW Coast of British Columbia and Alaska say the octopus controls the weather and wields power over sickness and health.

Ancient Hawaiian myths tell us our current universe is really the remnant of a more ancient one — the only survivor of which is the octopus who managed to slip between the narrow crack between the worlds.” Page 228

Considering the octopus’ ability to squeeze out of their confined aquarium “homes,” this last myth doesn’t feel that far-fetched!

Tako Bell: Tako is the Japanese word for Octopus, this painting is still a work in progress.

Sometimes life feels too full!

How can that be? Each day holds the same number of hours and the same number of molecules of air. 

Is life too full or am I too empty?

Does that sound like a contradiction? I think not. I think I just hit that nail on the head! My energy is gone.

The cure?
Spend less time doing; spend more time being.
Spend less time thinking; spend more time playing/reading/painting.
Spend less time with others; spend more time alone.

This isn’t the first time I’ve drained my energy reserves, and it probably won’t be the last. Fortunately I believe in giving myself (and others), Second Chances.

Sometimes even two chances aren’t enough to make the changes needed in life.

Rewiring a lifetime of old habits is a big job.

First start with the awareness that more “inner space” is needed. Next add a solid dose of resolve, mixed with encouragement, and a day or two of alone time/me time.

I have ideas, lots of ideas — sometimes even GREAT ideas.

Did you know that time is elastic enough to wrap all-the-way-around our ideas so we can actually MAKE-THEM-HAPPEN?

Down time is essential.

Yet sometimes down time is the hardest thing to “do”. That’s because it’s not so much a “doing thing” as it is a “being thing”.

I have an almost manic “I can do this” mantra running through my head. It’s enough to drive me crazy!
 
Turning off that “mantra” and creating or finding “down time” is critical.

We all need space in order to create. We need the physical space in which to create AND we need space inside our own head and life, an inner space.

Life feels too full when we have no space left within us. We need space in order to create.

I took just one painting class in college — oil painting. I loved it, but had more fun working in clay, and spent many semesters up to my elbows in “mud.”

Years after graduating, when I decided to paint again, I dug out my old oils. They still held magic.

Back then, I was working full time as Creative Services Director, and got up to paint before going to work. That gave me 20–45 min. of painting time about three times a week.

Each day I took a photo of my painting in progress. I liked seeing the painting develop, and knew that I could “blow it” with my next brush stroke. I figured if I had a record of what it looked like when I liked it, I could get back to that stage.

Opaque oil paints are “forgiving” because you can always paint over a passage you don’t like.

Watercolors are transparent, so there’s really “no going back”. Instead we continually move forward, adjusting our plans to make use of any perceived mistakes along the way.

I still take photos of my paintings in progress. I like to see the evolution of paintings — and so do my students.

I am both a “fast” and a “slow” painter. My motto is:
“Get in, Get Out, Step Back, Repeat…”

Basically this means that each brush stroke is done quickly, decisively, courageously … and then I STOP, step back, and look to see what’s happening with the painting.

If I know what to do next, I continue on with this “Get in, Get Out, Step Back, Repeat…” method.

Sometimes there’s a long pause between brush strokes. Sometimes it’s because I don’t know what to do next. Sometimes it’s because there is something else that must be done (dinner anyone?).

Most of my paintings take weeks to complete. Even when I think a painting is finished, I put it away for a day or two so that the next time I look at it I have “fresh eyes”.

This is one reason I like to have many paintings in progress at one time. I can easily switch from one to another if I get stuck.

My students long to see me finish a painting in class. Sigh. They want to know how to know when a painting is finished.

Alas, this is a subjective matter.

Robert Genn, a revered master painter from Canada once wrote: “it is better to under paint by 10% than to over paint by 1%.”

Keep painting. The more you do it, the better you get, and the easier it will be to know when your painting is finished.

It’s an unsatisfying answer, yet true.