Well, I did try to warn everyone that consistency this year would be my difficulty. I'm not saying that as an excuse, more of an apology. Here we are 2 weeks later and I still haven't posted anything. The truth is, I still haven't really done that much art besides my daily value scale and drawing exercises.
Well, that and a couple of doodles of irises as well, but nothing serious. I've been drifting.
There have been several signs that I should get serious too!
First of all, for 6 weeks I have been missing that good old oil paint smell . . the feel of the brushes going over the canvases . . ahhhh, heaven! But I didn't have the good sense to pack linseed oil before coming and finding it has been somewhat of a challenge. So we were walking through the street market looking for a coffeepot - of all things! - and came across a street stall filled with art supplies. I don't know if I can impress upon you how rare this is to find a street stall with oil painting supplies. Usually they have clothing, food, and household items. There's even a street filled with street stalls of school supplies, but no art supplies. Anyway, we passed by this one stall and lo and behold there were 3 containers of linseed oil! Needless to say, now I'm all set to paint, I just need to carve out the time.
That brings me to my second sign that I should be more consistent and organized with my time. Where we're staying there are no clocks. The only one in the whole house is in the kitchen and it's only showing correct time, half of the time. The reason? Most people here judge time by the sun. On the altiplano that makes sense - you're at the top of everything, the sun rises and sets and you can see it all clearly. Here in the south of the city (further down the side of the mountain) it's a bit less obvious, especially to my untrained-at-sun-reading eye. I can tell dawn, I can tell noon, and I can tell evening. Beyond that, the hours are a blur. But then again, here in Bolivia, time is relative. If you say 2:00, it means more or less 2:00, possibly later. So anyway, I'm here figuring out my time by going through the same motions I always do - breakfast, school with the kids, lunch, etc. I end up on track give or take an hour or two. But I feel like I'm wasting so much time here. Then this morning I discovered a clock-radio with an alarm tucked away in one of the kitchen cabinets. I have already installed it by my bed and will be waking up earlier tomorrow morning for the sake of art and my own sanity.
Drifting is over, time to get to work!
There have been several signs that I should get serious too!
First of all, for 6 weeks I have been missing that good old oil paint smell . . the feel of the brushes going over the canvases . . ahhhh, heaven! But I didn't have the good sense to pack linseed oil before coming and finding it has been somewhat of a challenge. So we were walking through the street market looking for a coffeepot - of all things! - and came across a street stall filled with art supplies. I don't know if I can impress upon you how rare this is to find a street stall with oil painting supplies. Usually they have clothing, food, and household items. There's even a street filled with street stalls of school supplies, but no art supplies. Anyway, we passed by this one stall and lo and behold there were 3 containers of linseed oil! Needless to say, now I'm all set to paint, I just need to carve out the time.
That brings me to my second sign that I should be more consistent and organized with my time. Where we're staying there are no clocks. The only one in the whole house is in the kitchen and it's only showing correct time, half of the time. The reason? Most people here judge time by the sun. On the altiplano that makes sense - you're at the top of everything, the sun rises and sets and you can see it all clearly. Here in the south of the city (further down the side of the mountain) it's a bit less obvious, especially to my untrained-at-sun-reading eye. I can tell dawn, I can tell noon, and I can tell evening. Beyond that, the hours are a blur. But then again, here in Bolivia, time is relative. If you say 2:00, it means more or less 2:00, possibly later. So anyway, I'm here figuring out my time by going through the same motions I always do - breakfast, school with the kids, lunch, etc. I end up on track give or take an hour or two. But I feel like I'm wasting so much time here. Then this morning I discovered a clock-radio with an alarm tucked away in one of the kitchen cabinets. I have already installed it by my bed and will be waking up earlier tomorrow morning for the sake of art and my own sanity.
Drifting is over, time to get to work!
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