The 100 Day Project

India ink on gouache mono-print background.

Hello! It's been a while (months!) since my last post, but I've had a good excuse: starting mid-February and finishing on Memorial Day, I went for:

#The100DayProject

Watercolor on pre-washed ink background.

100 days of super-fun, super-disciplined, and very consistent art practice which then, well, exhausted me. Because 100 days is a lot of days. But I had fun--I did!

Watercolor and ink diptych.

Anyone who has followed my blog or Twitter (X) account knows how much I enjoy themed challenges: NaNoWriMo, Inktober, even small 5-day personal project sprints, I have done them all. Usually these challenges have been built around an established goal such as writing 50K words in a month, or 31 days of ink drawing. The 100 Day Project was different in that it allowed room for participants to choose their own projects. For me this was the perfect time to work on the dozens of pre-painted backgrounds I had on the ready and stored away to finish "one day."

Something I do when I can't think of what to paint, or I don't feel particularly motivated, is to experiment with color. Whether I paint on individual sheets of watercolor paper or inside my sketchbook, I like to take bottled ink, watercolor, water-soluble graphite and/or watercolor crayons and just go for it, washing-in loose swaths of color, the looser the better. Not only is it restful to swish paint around without a goal in mind, but when the paint dries I then have a potential background for a more complete painting.

Watercolor on, um, watercolor!

The only drawback to this method is the backgrounds can easily add up to an unmanageable amount. Eventually I'm faced with the day when I have to realize: "One day" is NOW.

Mixed-media using so many things I don't remember them all.

And for the 100 Day Project, NOW brought with it much more than 100 days of using up pre-toned paper, including:

1. Just like when I first painted the backgrounds, I never really knew how I would finish each one on the different days of the challenge. I didn't know what the subject matter would be, or what colors I would use, or if the results would even be any good. In other words, I didn't have a plan other than the plan to show up every day. And that turned out to be the very best plan of all.

2. By not having a set plan I was completely open to surprise: spilled ink became rain; dark blobs became mountains; accidentally putting the wrong color on my brush became my favorite color and I couldn't imagine using anything else.

3. Having to paint something new every day forced me out of my comfort zone. To break what could have been a monotonous chore, I tried colors I tend to avoid (red in particular) or I painted on unusual paper sizes, scraps from larger pieces that then became, for instance, a series of diptychs. An added bonus was some unexpected de-cluttering, putting those scraps to good use.

4. Adhering to a daily schedule of "paint, scan, post to social media" meant I had to work to a deadline and that meant I had to let whatever happened happen. I didn't have the luxury or time to fuss, rework, or start over. I just had to accept what was on the page and look forward to tomorrow.

5. Which also meant that some days my work was really, really bad. Again, if a piece didn't work, I had to let it go. But then I noticed something strange: no matter how bad a piece was, there was always one, if not more, parts about it I liked. Which then meant: not one minute of the challenge was a waste. Every day held valuable lessons and growth.

6. Limited time left little time to think. Often the only thing I could think of painting was trees: trees on a hill, trees by themselves, trees leading into a forest of yet more trees. At the same time, though, I was worried the repetition would be boring for my viewers. A major element of the project was the injunction that you had to post and show your work in public and I worried people would soon get sick of seeing so many trees. However, I then remembered what my wonderful art teacher, the late Gary Sanchez always said: "Don't just paint a sunflower. Paint a hundred sunflowers. A thousand sunflowers! Become a sunflower expert!" I still might not be an expert, having at least 876 more trees to go to reach one thousand, but I'm on the way!

7. Expert or not, the thought of showing my work every day was scary. I soon discovered there was absolutely nothing to be afraid of. The people who saw my work were so kind, supportive, complimentary, funny, and appreciative of my efforts and willingness to tackle the project that this alone made every minute worth it. I am so grateful for their encouragement as well as the many times they let me know how inspired they had become to embark upon their own creative paths. It was beyond amazing to think my little trees were actually making a difference to people. Because at the end of the day, isn't that what the arts are about: making a difference?

Water-soluble graphite, ink, and watercolor crayons.

Now that the project is over and I've sorted through my sketchbooks and papers and cleared my work space in preparation for the next challenge (!) and finally written this post, I've matted and readied a few of my favorite 100-Day pieces for sale. You can find them on my website under "Artwork." Enjoy and thanks for visiting!

Tip of the Day: The best challenges are never about the finished work. Instead, regard of them as a framework to use as a focusing tool, asking yourself:

• What would I like to learn from a challenge? A new skill; an improved skill; how to use my materials; or simply a chance meet other creatives?
  
• What can I give up in my daily schedule to make time for a challenge? What activity isn't serving me as much as taking time for my creative work could do?
• What is the one thing I've wanted to try but never have--could I do it now, or is there a later date I can set aside this year and give it my full attention?

I hope the answer to the last question is "Yes!" Happy Creating!

Remembering Artist Gary R Sanchez

Morning Coffee; Oil Pastel and Watercolor Crayon on Gessoed Paper

I'm feeling sad today. Two nights ago I learned that one of my continuing ed. art teachers, Gary Sanchez, passed away suddenly on Thanksgiving from a heart attack. It's hard to believe--I was just about to choose which of his classes I was going to take next year. He was only 53. Kind, generous, and a remarkably gifted teacher; he will be sorely missed by so many.

I took both watercolor and oil pastel classes from Gary. Watercolor was not a new medium to me, but oil pastel certainly was. In fact, I wasn't even sure I would like it very much--I only took the class because I knew he was a good teacher and I thought I should expand my horizons. What I didn't expect is that I would enjoy oil pastel so much it would become one of my main drawing/painting mediums. 

The above painting was one of my first homework assignments in that same class. Looking at it now I'm reminded of the fun our class had together, and Gary was funny, constantly keeping us entertained. I realize now that was a great way to keep us relaxed and light: we would sketch while Gary chatted, worked on his own pictures, and somehow managed to walk around the room giving us individual pep talks all at the same time. I can still hear him using the terms "hot dog"and "hamburger" in place of "portrait" and "landscape" to describe which way we should turn our paper (the same way he described it for the children's classes he taught, which of course was the perfect way for me to learn), or reminding us that Van Gogh ate his paints--a demonstration of how passionate we should be about our materials. (Or hungry.)

Some of the reasons Gary helped me to love oil pastels include:

• There are no limits: I can use my fingers to paint. I'm also a ceramic artist, and being able to use my hands and fingers as tools on the paper fits me to a T.
• Oil pastel color is rich. The colors blend like butter.
• You can use a wide variety of interesting backgrounds, from sand paper to canvas, so it never gets dull.
• It's a fast medium with quick results--and I'm a very impatient artist.
• Oil pastels are a good choice for creating sell-able, frame-able work. And who doesn't want to go professional one day?
• You don't need a lot of excess "stuff" to work with oil pastel--especially if you paint with your fingers! But seriously, they are a minimalist's dream: a selection of colors, something to draw upon, a few paper towels.
• And you don't need to break the bank to get started. Even a cheap set is good--much better than you'd think. Great for the budget-minded.
• It's a a very expressive medium--you can draw straight from the heart, right away--no experience needed. Really.
• It's also a very forgiving medium--if you don't like the results you can pretty much just scrape it away and start over. Better yet, you can look for "happy accidents" and work with those in new and creative ways. It all turns out fine.
• Oil pastels can be used in so many different ways: on their own, in collage or mixed media, applied thick and strong, or thinned with either water or solvent for a "watercolor" look. The possibilities are endless.

Going over this list makes me want to get out my paper and Sennelier pastels (the terribly expensive ones!) and draw something special. I often think the very best way we can honor our teachers and mentors, past and present, is to never give up on our dreams, no matter what. I'm so glad I got to be one of Gary's students, and I'm so glad I let him know when I could how much I appreciated his art and teaching. May his legacy live on.

Tip of the Day: My art journals are full of Gary's advice and tips, but one of my favorites is from the first watercolor class I took from him. We were each given a picture of a sunflower to paint. When we were finished (and praised--Gary always made sure we got tons of positive feedback before he offered any other type of critique) he said, "Okay, now that you've painted one sunflower, don't stop. Never paint just one. Paint a hundred. Paint a thousand sunflowers. Become an expert!" It's good advice for any type of creative pursuit: e.g., don't just write one poem or screenplay, write a hundred, write a thousand! Become an expert--and never give up. See you next time.