A little death, a little love

Today I visited my blog page for the first time in 6 months…to the day. It’s like a little time capsule at this point, and my life is vastly changed, and still changing.

I’ve been working in an office as a marketing associate, with my very own cubicle. It’s actually been a nice change of pace, like putting on a new persona and acting in a play. I get a steady paycheck and it’s the most wonderful thing ever. I could probably do this for the rest of my life in some capacity, build a career; I’m good at it.

I haven’t picked up a paint brush, hardly even made a sketch the past six months. While it may seem like a sad thing, it isn’t. My art went through a little death and I’m healing. There is still more healing to do, still financials to sort out. It will take more time, but I always return to my brushes and oils eventually.

In honor of this healing process, I’m clearing out the studio; getting rid of all the old, to make room for the new. I’ll be auctioning and selling all my older series of paintings and any canvas prints on Facebook over the next few months. I want them in the hands of the wonderful people who supported me through all of this.

So on to new and better and brighter things!

-Marni

some major changes

The White Dress #5 (sold)

I've thrown my hands in the air. Working as a full-time artist is no longer feasible. I've given everything to my art, and there's nothing left. The painting will continue, but at a much slower rate. At moments like this, it makes me seriously question my talent, and even my sanity.

I'm once again filling out job applications and sending out resume's. I won't let the electricity get shut off, or the kitties go hungry. There's no way to raise the funds to attend those festivals I'm just dying to participate in this year. Nope. It's time to put this art thing aside for a bit, and focus my energy on a steady paycheck. When I get back on top of my finances, I'll try once again. In the meantime, I won't be accepting any more commissions (sorry for those on the wait list). Any extra time will go to my own work.


It's such a shame that the living artists in our society are not supported better and valued. We don't get unemployment benefits and most can't afford healthcare. When you factor in the hours spent creating and promoting, most artists earn much less than minimum wage. Art is the first thing cut out of school budgets, yet artists produce the most cherished objects in a society's
history.

A new mini (4x4") painting, available for purchase:

fruits and veggies for mental health

I've been in a holding pattern for the past six months, artistically and in my life. It's been a tough year, financially and emotionally. I try to stay disciplined, forcing myself to sit down and pick up that brush no matter what. This is my livelihood, after all. I don't have the luxury of putting my paints aside waiting for inspiration.
Some healing was in order, and to do so, I turned to an old friend, the still life.

16 years ago, I took a few college oil painting classes, and didn't do very well. In fact, I dropped out twice. A few years later, I tried painting again, on my own terms. I bought some cheap 16x20 canvas and painted a single big fruit on each. There was a pepper (left), a lemon, and a peach. These forgiving orbs lacked skeletal structure, making it easy to concentrate on color, form and light. My success allowed me to gain confidence, branching out in to potted plants and eventually, the human form.

Painting a still life is a type of meditation for me, and in that meditation, ideas form. I've been simmering the proverbial idea cauldron for months, and now I have a new direction. The fruit and veggies will be set aside for a later date (once I finish the few left on the easel).

Purple Pepper (2000)

Some new mini paintings:

Onion
purchase

Radishes
purchase

Kiwi
purchase



images © Marni Mutrux 2009

New paintings, proliferation and compulsion

Tango
purchase

Looking back on my mini collection, I'm amazed at how fast they proliferated. I started painting them in March, and here we are a few months later with nearly 40 of them (I'm including the few sitting on my desk unfinished). What was intended as a brief project has mushroomed into an entire series.

I'm debating if I should take a break from the mini project. I love the mindless intensity of painting these little beauties, but wonder if my time is better spent on other paintings. These are choices we all have to make as artists. With so many creative ideas, it's difficult, but important, to edit. Time will tell if the mini's make the cut.

This latest batch continues several themes. The cherries (top) are part of a little subgroup. I spent a whole afternoon arranging and photographing cherries in my backyard for these. There are more in the works, all pairs of ripe cherries dancing into the night.

Apricots
sold

"Apricots" continues my fruit theme. I've developed a habit of scrutinizing the produce section for painting subjects. It looks a little nuts, as I hold up each fruit to the light, examining it from all sides for character, shape and color. Perhaps I should extend my search to the meat isle, or canned goods. The possibilities are endless.

Claws

sold

Claws is part of a commissioned group of kitty paintings. The intense close-ups are my own compromise on painting cats. I loathe painting "pet portraits", despite their popularity. By getting so close and cropping, these become something beyond a portrait.

Siamese Fighting Fish
purchase

Lastly, little fishy. I can't help myself with these. I've painted a slew of little fish paintings throughout the years. Most were sold or given away. I don't even have photographs of them. It's the play of light and color that I find irresistible, and the tremendous personalities. Or it could be the guilt from when my entire tank of fish died from ick when I was 12. Every time I finish one, I want to start another.

Two Years in the Making

So much has happened since my last blog. It’s been a nail-biting month, where I dealt with some very difficult decisions.My leap back into the workforce was short lived. I was hired as a bar manager for a new restaurant, and given the task to stock a full bar, create a cocktail menu, staff and train within 12 days. We were only open 9 days when the whole restaurant went belly up. It was the most hectic, ridiculous few weeks of my life.

This experience taught me one important lesson: I belong in the studio! Within those few weeks, I lost out on a gallery show in San Francisco because I didn’t have time to drop off the work, and was inundated with 14 commissions. I’m still trying to catch up. There’s nothing like a cosmic kick-in-the-butt to put you in the right direction.

That said, I want to thank everyone for the heartfelt words of encouragement. I’m so humbled and amazed to reach anyone through my bumbling adventures and the outpouring of support made all the struggling worth something. Thank you, thank you.

So I’m back to clawing my way along. Rent may be late, the creditors are calling, but I do what I can and hope for the best. It’s out of my hands; it’s in my hands, through my hands. Something like that.

I want to introduce my new painting, Tangle. It’s something I started in 2007, and stuck in the closet for a few years. My first attempt fell short of what I was trying to accomplish; a vibrant blend of human form and abstract painting. Instead, it was heavy and awkward, and often confused for a statement on anorexia. You can see the original version here.

The new version has a more narrative approach, and I enjoyed bringing the painting back to life.

Tangle 30x40"

The mini series has grown and expanded. Here are a few new little lovelies:

Ringneck Dove -buy

Red Onions -buy

Raspberries -sold

Whiskers -sold

Jellyfish -buy

A very serious blog

The White Dress #3

SOLD

For the last 3 years, I’ve been working full-time as an artist. It’s been an amazing journey. This has been a dream of mine since I can remember, maybe not a conscious one, but when I’m creating, it’s the only time I feel truly whole. It’s always been that way; like I’m doing what I was meant to do in this life-there’s no question.
Getting here is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Anyone who’s been in my shoes can tell you how risky this life is. There’s no salary, no benefits, no security, no unemployment to collect. I put relationships, savings, credit, my heart, sanity and ego on the line. I can honestly say I’ve given it my all.
I’ve been blessed to have the opportunity to give it a go, and proud I took that chance. That’s why it’s so painful to be sitting here, filling out random job applications. We have so little time in this life, and to spend that time doing something other than what we love feels like a waste.

The last six months have been some of the best in my career, despite a failing economy. Unfortunately, everything else is falling apart. My partner has lost his job several times in the past few months, credit cards are killing me, the savings are gone and the bills are piled up. For the first time in my fiscally-responsible life, I’m faced with debt collectors, loss of utilities and the possibility of eviction. I can't take the risk of a slow month, that’s the truth of it.

Of course, I’ll never stop creating. No true artist does. Give me nothing but some straws and a pile of Easter Peeps and I’ll make something out of it. There will be plenty more paintings and shows in the future, it just may take a little longer. This is just a small detour in my journey. Right now, it’s about survival.

For those of you who have followed my progress and routed for me along the way, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Art is about communicating, and I’ve met some wonderful people through that connection. I hope my journey inspires others, even if I feel like a failure at the moment. At the very least I can serve as example.

I complete this very serious blog with an update on shows, and three lovely mini paintings. The San Diego Art Walk is in less than three weeks, and unless a miracle occurs, I won’t be able to go. Art Couture in Vegas was canceled, due to the economy. The Marin festival IS a go, thanks to all my friends and family.

I just attended a wonderful gallery opening at the 57th street gallery in Oakland, and I’m happy to have ongoing representation there. In May, there's a month-long show at Eclectix Gallery in El Cerrito, CA.

The mini paintings will be going up in price very soon, as $55 is a steal for the amount of work that goes into them. Grab yours now before the prices are raised! These new ones focus on more of my favorite foods, a portrait, a goldfish, kitty feet, and my continued obsession with white dresses.

Goldfish #6-SOLD

Figs-SOLD

Promise

Oyster -SOLD

Kitty Feet-SOLD

An Artist's Guide to Brushes

A professor and his wife visited my studio last year. He stared at my brush collection and was appalled. “You paint with those?” I told him some of them were over 20 years old, and his wife chided him, “See, honey, you don’t need to spend so much money on brushes”.

I’ve accumulated a sad set of brushes over the years. None of them cost over $10. Some were purchased at an auction 5 years ago in Boston. It was an artist’s estate and I bought his used easel, paints and brushes for $15. Lucky for me, his brushes were much higher quality than the ones I purchase. I still use them, though they are beginning to disintegrate.

I purchase a new brush every few months, use it until it’s a stump, then buy a new one. The way I figure it, if I can paint this well with crap brushes, life will be a whole lot easier when I get some good ones. Good brushes are a distant dream, lumped into my hopes of someday taking a vacation, or buying new clothes or a fancy new van to take me to shows. Until then, I’ll make do with what I have.

Some old relics

The three stages of a detail brush

Most of my brushes are synthetic. I’ve been told oil painters should only use natural hair brushes, but they cost 3x as much. You don't need them. I use flats and filberts, in different sizes. Fans, angle brushes and mops are useless. I rinse them with turpentine, then soap and warm water. When I accidentally let paint dry on them, a brush restorer works magic getting them back in order. Over time, a flat brush turns into nice, bushy blending brush. A new detail brush eventually becomes a stump that can be used for applying little spots of paint.

Having quality brushes will make painting easier, but if you are on a budget, I suggest spending money on quality paint. Below are my latest paintings, all painted with my beat-up brush collection.

Billy Holiday, commissioned portrait 30x40"


Pomegranate-SOLD

3 new Mini paintings, 4x4" available for $55 each plus shipping on Etsy.