Christopher Stott is a contemporary realist painter.
I thought I’d share a photo, a glimpse into my work space. This is another painting of the old Underwood in progress. I’m tackling the keys today, a great way to ruin ones posture is to sit for 3 hours straight, hunched over moving across the canvas, inch by inch. In a few months, I’ll share the completed painting once it’s hanging at the gallery for the exhibition in June.
I need to take breaks, frequently, from the easel. Stepping away, focusing on something else, then taking a glance over my shoulder to the easel to see if the past hour or so was a complete waste. I used to take it pretty hard when the painting was struggling. I used to think everything needed to be fixed now, but I’ve learned that it’s wiser to wait about 24 to 48 hours to pass. I no longer experience the feeling of wanting to stick my foot through the canvas. I think I must be getting older.
I’m lucky to be doing what I do. Those nasty news headlines about hundreds of thousands of people losing their jobs, joining the millions that already have… well, I guess no matter what, I won’t lose this painter life.
At the bank, I was cornered by the well meaning manager. Several brochures were lunged in to my reluctant hands and questions about my retirement were posed. I just finished telling her I was a painter, an artist, you know, like back in the olden days. I won’t retire. I’ll keep doing the same thing until the bitter end. And I already save so I’m not worried and that’s because I’m really cheap, just ask my wife.
That did not compute with banker. Artist does not understand the rules.
I’m working away in the studio, quietly and contentedly. Larger pieces, slower process. All for the show in June. March, April, May will be exciting. Well, okay, there’ll be pangs of anxiety and stress, but I’ll get over it. When I was a student, I convinced myself that I worked well under pressure. I’ll go with that theme again.
I won’t be posting any new paintings for some time. Instead, if you’re so inclined, check out my paintings on Flickr. It’s a great way to see the paintings at a glance, and get a better sense of my palette and designs I’m working with.
These hunting boots belonged to the father of a good friend of mine. They were used in the 40s and they are spectacular. I imagine it took about 15 minutes to get them laced up.
Today a friend asked me “what’s new?” Ever sit there with a blank stare on your face when someone asks you that? That’s what I did. Then I thought about the “newness” in my life and realized that I’m focused on my work, and although that seems like nothing new to me, it’s new to the person you’re talking to. I’ve got the exhibition in June, which means I’ve got until mid-May to create some newness.
I’m sure that February, March and April will move fast. The work I’ll be doing will be larger, not going under say 20″ or 24″ in size. I’ve come to terms that this is around the size I work best in. It’s comfortable. The smaller I go, the more I struggle.
This winter has been cold. Bitter cold. I know it’s been cold throughout the entire continent, but I’m sure if you were to take a look at the average temperature where I am, you’d fall into stunned silence. I should not feel like this until the end of February, not January. I guess I always have the warm colors in the pears. And radiant heat in the studio.
Where did I go? It’s been a few weeks since I last posted anything. I’m busy. I’ve got an show coming up in June in Sacramento and I think that’s going to keep me very occupied for the next several months. The first half of this year is going to be insane in my studio. Insane and exciting.
I’m calling this piece Second Draft. The first time I painted this old Remington (only a few weeks ago) it appeared on a very dark background. Unfamiliar territory. So I fretted and stirred and resolved myself by painting it a second time in more familiar territory. I’m sure I’ll experiment further with other tones in the background but it’s a slow process.
Goodbye 2008. I’m glad to see you go, you miserable year with your dismal news headlines. I plan on hiding in my studio doing the best work I possibly can for 2009. I’m actually optimistic about that.
Saying “Happy New Year” doesn’t feel empty and pointless this year. I really, truly hope it is a Happy New Year.
This is a small sample of some paintings completed in 2008. I thought it would be nice to make a presentation in video. I uploaded a high quality version to YouTube, so if you have broadband, please click the “watch in high quality” link directly below the video on the YouTube site because there’s nothing worse than witnessing your paintings turn into a fuzzy, washed-out mess in a video. Still, I think it’s pretty cool to have this tool at my fingertips.
Eventually (I stress eventually) I want to make some videos of the paintings in progress. Major hurdles include being a control freak and not owning a camera to record the process.
There’s no shortage of those stories of people who wanted to do something other than what they are doing, or did for the entire life, like writing a novel, learning to play an instrument, traveling, etc. So many things complicate life, preventing dreams from taking shape. Responsibilities, people and events all put the kibosh on passions. Subscribing to the simple philosophy of “just do it” seems almost terrifyingly simple, so brazen and lacking foresight. It’s as if people are happier if things are really complicated because that complication can help squelch the little voice in your head that reminds you that you once had dreams.