Art Motivations, Kafka Drawn

A slow day. Perhaps I'm painting too many works. Works are useful for entering into open competitions, exhibitions to showcase my work, to promote myself as an artist and my art on sale elsewhere. There are only so many competitions, however. I can paint works for sale directly, although I have many existing brilliant works that can stock an art shop. It's also good to be painting for self-improvement, skill improvement, and to embody being a painter. To have works on exhibition and for sale, yet be working on music or books may send a wrong message, and time, skills, the sunlight is limited. I can't paint in winter, the iron is hot for striking. This is a rare year where my painting is getting attention and support. I should make the most of this.

I've never need 'inspiration', to wait for an idea. If I need an idea I have 100 to hand, so this isn't a factor. I could paint forever, for as long as I have health, food, shelter, and art supplies.

At times I feel that I've created a lot, many games, many books, many music albums, many paintings, and yet, so far, nothing has yet been successful. Nothing popular, profitable. Some things are more popular than others, this is true, but nothing that is a 'hit', yet. Perhaps my work isn't promoted enough. I am naturally solitary, not a promoter. I know that I've made some good works, things I'm proud of, and things I dislike or know that I can do better. Critics or others can like or dislike anything. The judges in competitions are wrong to not show the works that I love and know are brilliant. As a judge myself once or twice, I know how haphazard this process is.

I remind myself that many great artists of the past faced the same problem. Almost every artist considered great long after their lifetime, Vermeer, William Blake, Van Gogh, countless many, were ignored in their lifetime and revered years later. Lack of success can be, with this hindsight, a sign of success - because it's happened so often to so many brilliant artists.

Small jobs done today. First, listening to the radio about Otto Dix, one of my favourite painters. His works lack accurate perspective, a cubist-like look of different surfaces, one which shows what's important to make the point and nothing more. A rare disunity of perspective. Excellent colouration. I re-absorbed some of his paintings.

The small canvas offcut I tried to stretch the other day was today glued to a 6mm piece of MDF which by coincidence was exactly the right size, making a large panel of about 61x86cm, an ideal size for an epic centrepiece of a wall. This is glued using PVA, section by small section, unrolling with glue applied. Trying to stick it in one instant would create air bubbles, and the glue dries too quickly for this anyway. All good.

I had hoped to paint another layer on 'Love And Fragility', but I think it's too soon since the last layer, so went for a fast walk instead. After that, marked the paper and drew out most of the Franz Kafka portrait.

Earthly Concerns Of A Telepathic Daisy Oil Tracing

Today, toned the large canvas for 'The Earthly Concerns Of A Telepathic Daisy' with a fine wash of acrylic colour, my imprimatura. Then transferred over the basic drawing.

For this plastic canvas, and other surfaces which resist tracing like acrylic plastic or metal panels, I use oil paint and Polydraw polyester drafting film. For the first stage of any tracing I'd normally use a 0.5mm Uni Pin pen, but for this I used a normal automatic pencil because I wanted to be able to erase the lines. Then, flip the sheet and paint over the lines with a mix of raw umber and titanium white without any zinc. The paint is scrubbed very thinly, as thinly as can be painted. Then the sheet is flipped again and taped to the canvas, and a fine-tipped embossing scribe (like a sharp point with a tiny pin-head-ball tip) is used to trace over the lines. The result is a perfect transfer of the drawing in oil. I have used this technique in a painting itself, as it's a great way to 'paint' ultra-thin lines. It's more difficult when the target surface is full of wet paint, of course.

The drawing above is 80x80cm. Of course, once transferred the drawing will take a few days to dry, so I can't paint immediately (unless I want to include those outlines; I could theoretically trace over different colours for different parts of the painting, or even shade parts).

After the transfer is done, I wipe the paint off the Polydraw and erase the pencil lines, as this material is expensive and tough enough to be reused. The lines remain visible, embossed. The sheet is very slightly distorted, and it's also impossible to wipe the paint perfectly away, so this used sheet is not perfect, but this beautiful material can at least be reused once or twice.

Gloves, Benatar, Canvas

A stressful and dramatic yesterday due to family issues. In a strange analogue of the drama, my mother accidentally took my brand new £120 designer German black leather gloves (a Christmas gift only recently cashed in) to a charity shop after she found them apparently discarded on the table. I still don't understand why she would do such a thing. I'd only worn them once! It's so rare for me to find any gloves that fit. These were a one-off, irriplacable.

In work, completed the second Pat Benatar panel underpainting, then attended the Hopes & Beams Literature Open Mic. Today stretched the large canvas for the Daisy painting, and did many other little jobs including listing paintings by frame, attending to my phone contact, updating my will, recycling a pile of ancient phones.

There was a 66x92cm offcut of canvas after the Daisy segment was cut, so I decided to try and stretch this on a 60x86cm stretcher. Not easy, I really need it to be at least 10cm bigger not 6cm. After an hour of work, the result is so-nearly acceptable, yet not quite. Too wrinkled, too imperfect. Such a shame, as I may never stretch a smaller canvas, so using this large offcut will be difficult. I'll have to dismantle the whole thing.

Now exhausted physically and emotionally. Next job, to tone the surface for the Daisy painting and transfer the drawing.

Canvas Preparations, Pat Benanatar Banana Underpainting

Yesterday evening I cut a section of canvas and assembled the stretcher bars for the Daisy painting. I bought 10M of canvas in 2011 for £165.54, and another 10M (knowing how great this 'Top Gun' material is) in 2015 for £200.28. Now the same canvas costs £300. Top Gun is 100% polyester and is wonderful for painting, far superior to cotton or linen.

One downside to Top Gun is that it can't easily be drawn on, so I use oil paint on tracing paper to transfer the drawing, except that I don't now use actual tracing paper for large paintings like this because it wrinkles like crazy, it is very hygroscopic, and those wrinkles distort a large image more and more. I use polyester drafting film, which does the same job without wrinkling, and is so strong its unrippable (it would probably make a good painting surface itself). It is 4 or 5 times the (already expensive) cost of tracing paper; 10M of polyester drafting film was £69 when I bought it in 2012, now it's £190. This time I hope to re-use it. It should be easy to wipe down after use, but of course, I could only re-use it comfortably if it is for a painting of the same size. Making paintings all an identical size would be far cheaper and efficient, but much less artful. Each idea seems to demand a certain size and shape.

I haven't stretched the canvas, but it is cut and waiting. After that, a sleepless night, probably due to the first sweet thing I ate last evening after my dental operation. It mead me realise how not eating deserts is perhaps always the best option for health.

A steady day today, underpainted the first of the two little panels now known as the Pat Benanatar series, this 'Beware of the Banana Surprise':

An odd painting in many ways, and it looks even odder now. I rarely paint with violets as there are no opaque ones. Here I used cobalt blue and manganese violet, which are semi-transparent, but opaque enough in grey. The face isn't trying to be realistic but stylistic, cartoon-like. The figure had a few problems, partly because it was realistically proportioned. Sometimes, false proportions look better on little figures, fatter arms, stockier build; but also the pose was too simple, too stable, so I modified it into a startled run. The whole painting looks strange to me, even though it matches the plan. Of course, all of the colours can be changed at whim when glazing.

Another £85 of oil paints arrived today, 7 tubes. I have enough paints for many years now, unless I start to paint larger or in impasto. Tomorrow, I'll probably underpaint the other painting of this pair, 'Sisyphus Rolling A Coconut Dangerously Towards To The Critical Mass Of Pat Benatar'.

Colour Studies, Bigger Telepathic Daisy

Three colour studies painted today, for the two Pat Benatar paintings and the Telepathic Daisy painting. These are so useful, and were especially so today. The colours for the Benatar portrait in particular were complex, as her dark clothing required a dark coconut on top, plus many flesh options.

The Telepathic Daisy painting was originally 30cm square, then made a little bigger at 40cm, but I liked the idea more and more while painting the colour study and have decided to double the size to 80cm, the same at the Abandoning a Friend painting, and the Self Portrait as Philosopher. I have some 32in stretcher bars, so this works. This will be my largest painting in a decade, since Revelation. The afternoon was spent working on this much larger drawing. The little Wyeth houses now have (or can have) much more detail. The only element that has moved slightly is the disturbing object on the washing line, which is more obviously out of place on the bigger scale. A small painting blown up always works compositionally.

It's largely done, but there is a lot more preparation work of the canvas, stretching and preparation, and tracing over the drawing using oil paint. The brilliant polyester canvas I use is waxy and does not accept pencil.

Panels, Silver Diver

A slow day, wanted to take the day a bit easier. Toned the panels and traced over the drawings for the Pat Benatar paintings. Then got to work repairing a sculpture which Paul gave us a few years ago. It was bought second hand, and pardon the pun that it was sold without a right hand. It had broken off in its earlier life. I decided to model a new one.

First I filled the arm hole with Sculptamold, a mix of plaster and paper fragments which is a wonderful material to use. Its only downside is that it has a rough, oat-porridge-like texture, it can't be perfectly smoothed. As a gap filler it's wonderful, and it's very tactile and easy to model with. Then, modelled a hand from grey Milliput. I remember buying a pile of it cheaply, but it's rubbish stuff. The only good Milliput is the fine white, and even that isn't very good. Milliput is often flaky and dry, and a nightmare to mix. It remains flaky and stiff, and can crack and behave in generally horrible ways when using it. It sticks to everything , except itself, and stains everything badly, so it ruins gloves and tools, while falling off the sculpture that it is supposed to grip. I may throw away the lot I have.

Air-dry water-based clay is a little easier to handle but shrinks badly. This doesn't stick to itself (and will fall apart when dry) and has far too many other flaws to be useful professionally - but I use it for lighting models because it is cheap. Oil plasticine (or other oil-based clays) are by far the best thing to model with, but they don't dry. I'd love an oil-based clay which dries very slowly like oil paint. Perhaps a mix of clay, a linseed oil (stand oil?) and a resin, like Laropal A81 in some solvent, might make an interesting material. Would Laropal alone make a clay? It may be too sticky, and this would set by evaporation so may also shrink.

Anyway, the hand was modelled over a few hours to an adequate degree.

It's impossible to match the mirror silver finish, so I've painted it with oil size mixed with mars black, then applied artificial silver leaf. This gives a wrinkled, tin-foil type of finish, but may look better when all dry and cleaned up. While working on it, I pressed too hard and the hand came off (proof that Milliput doesn't stick well, it's also rather weak as a material; almost every other epoxy clay I've tried has been smoother, stronger, and stickier). I glued the hand back with viscous superglue. Now it's all drying.

Banana Pat Benatar Sisyphus, Philosophy of Drawing

A somewhat slow day. I've developed the ideas for the paintings for the two small frames I bought last Wednesday. I'm unsure if they are good ideas or not, or, if good, are worthy of larger compositions, and if not are worth painting at all. The eternal choices. My original vision was a pair, this pair, and the aim was to develop them for the two new frames. I still need ideas for them - if the ideas become 'too good' and so worthy of larger frames, that process could continue forever! So I'll stick to the original plan. If an idea is good, it is good at every scale. Small means, at least, faster work, and the small panel completed yesterday (a similar size to today's ideas) is beautiful and no worse for its size.

So, an hour or two drawing out the paintings, and this evening sawing two panels, as the small size would suit a smooth panel better than canvas. The portrait of Pat Benatar is tricky due to the flat lighting in the photo. Painting from a photograph is no easier than painting from life, and when harder it is because details one knows are there (like the edge of a nose...) are invisible. In this case, the eyes, nose, and lips float in white space, making placement of these features triply difficult.

Andy Warhol would trace this, but the aim of painting a portrait isn't to duplicate a likeness, just as the aim of singing isn't to hit each note for the correct duration - the aim is expressiveness. An artist like Bryan Ferry or David Bowie is great due to expressiveness, not technical accuracy. Freddie Mercury was highly accurate in pitch and timing, yet (even setting aside his brilliance at composition and piano playing) it was his expressiveness which made him a star singer. The same is true in drawing, which is why it must be done by hand.

I feel I should have done more today but have felt tired and lazy at times.

Love And Fragility, Don't Talk To Me Glazing

My mouth seems to be healing correctly. I must hope that it does so. I can't wait to be able to eat and clean my mouth normally.

Painted today, the final bit of glazing Love and Fragility, then later the glazing layer to 'Don't Talk To Me About Love'.

I added more to Love and Fragility. The smoothness of some areas made them a little too flat and boring. I referred to the idea sketch and tried to move the painting towards its mood, I think I did.

I'm no longer a surrealist, although I was this only rarely. At first I'd design paintings carefully, then at some point developed instant unconscious ideas as sketches. These were and remain the root of my paintings. At some point I aimed to stick to those ideas explicitly, as in 'Malformed Phoenix Embryo' for example, which was the idea sketch blown up and nothing more. In a way, this is the pure expression of surrealism, that unconscious idea without consideration or filtering.

I don't do this now, but compose paintings carefully with thought, in the same way as I compose poetry and music. This is because creating 'any old thing' as instantly as you think it is too easy; it especially makes bad poems. In painting, there is the skill of execution, but it's still easy compared to a well planned artwork. Now, my paintings are crafted, with visual themes or other symbols or elements, each carefully considered. This takes longer, but hopefully produces better works. The new H Beam Piper painting, and 'The Howl Quakes The Empty House', are better for having been thought of and considered over several days, and I've done this with Love and Fragility too. After pre-planning paintings for years I'm now adding elements and making adjustments as I paint, and today I did this.

There is a balance of smoothness and detail, and I think the male face in that painting would technically benefit from another layer. The source image was/is so poor that it defies an ideal. It may suffice.

'Don't Talk To Me About Love' is definitely prettier after a second layer, a work on smooth panel really benefits from layers.

Apart from smoothing and enhancement to elements like the sea, I've changed the second cross a little to look more dagger-like, as this was ambiguous in the idea sketch.