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Greetings,

 

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa.  Let's talk about talent this morning, and stay calm, but this is your warning to stop reading if you don't want to head out to left field on the subject.

 

Sunday, we had a sermon that mentioned football players that drop to a knee and point heavenward after scoring a big touchdown.  And then this morning, I read one of those artist statements where the artist reveled on about her God given talent for drawing.

 

That word, talent, what a slippery little bugger it is!  A catch-all, of major proportions, to be sure.  And before we go any further, I want you to know that I am absolutely aware that God blesses me every day.  But that word talent...hmm.

 

I appreciate football players that point heavenward.  And I like artists who talk about God as they paint.  It makes me realize they have their heads on pretty straight, ergo the penchant for misusing the word talent.

 

Are you ready for left field?  Here we go:  I don't believe talent is something we are born with. 

 

If you have the capacity to score game winning touchdowns, it likely has a lot to do with how many practices you've been to.  How many hours you've spent in the weight room.  How many miles you've logged in running.  If you are able to capture the likeness of a horse trotting across a field, it likely means you have spent hours observing horses and even more hours drawing them.  If you can paint a waterfall with beauty that amazes people, chances are you've been hit by it's spray several times, and if you paint with watercolors, those drips on all those papers are inadvertent.  If you can paint a person and get the essence of the personality down on canvas, odds are really good that you've got a whole bunch of full canvases laying around somewhere.

 

Could you accomplish all of those things without any prep work?  I'm betting not.

 

There's that story about the guy in the flood.  His town was flooding, water was rising around his house, so he climbed up onto the roof.  He prayed for God to save him.  So here comes a boat with a couple of people in it.  "Hop in" they tell him.   "We'll take you to safety", they said.  The guy on his roof replied "no, I prayed for God to save me, I don't need your help.  I'll just sit here and wait."  Next thing the guy knows, he's in heaven and a little bit miffed:  "God, I prayed that you'd save me from the flood--why didn't you?"  And God said, "sheesh, I sent a boat, what more did you want?"

 

The guy needed to get off his roof, into the boat, and help row the thing off to a good place.  Work at it.

 

From left field may I say that artists who are viewed as having great talents would not be viewed as great talents if they were not also viewed as great workers.  Before the talent comes the work.

 

Must be time to head to the studio.  Thanks for stopping by.

 

Later, Cooper

Greetings,

 

Welcome to the Cooper Studio, Jefferson, Iowa.

 

Several years back, I determined I could/would be a runner.  Not marathons, nope, nothing like that.  But I do try to go a couple of miles on three our four mornings of each week.  Just the other week, Jefferson got yet another bunch of snow.  Thankfully it's March, and considering the city truck/plows got to it right away, the streets dried quickly.  Free and clear of snow.  Good for the morning run.

I headed out on my normal route, which takes me to the bike trail on the east side of town, my usual halfway point.  But wait, what's up with that?  The bike trail, snow, ice, and melted/refrozen slush ruts.  Everything a person trying to move faster than a crawl DOESN'T want.  But here I am at the edge of town.  Either I turn back and retrace my steps (how boring is that?) or I continue on.  There's a black top road just ahead, and it won't be that much further...  And besides, it's good for me, right?

 

Awesome.  Going the extra mile.  There's a saying "all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy", right?  And then there's another "a job worth doing, is a job worth doing well".   Now surely there's a lot of maneuvering room in between those two thoughts, but this morning I'm going to promote the concept that sometimes we have to lean harder one way, than the other.  The middle of the road is not always the best place to be. The stack of "to do" has surpassed my comfort zone.  I can see the extra mile in front of me.  But I know the benefits:

 

1.  Makes you work harder

2.  It gets you closer to your goal

3.  Feelings of a job well done, to the max

 

See you on the other side.  Believe it or not, the warm up is varnishing a guitar, just recently painted, so it can get to the mail.  Aah.  Life at the Cooper studio.  Never a dull moment.

 

Later, Cooper

 

 

Greetings,

 

Welcome to the Cooper Studio, Jefferson, Iowa.

 

I don't believe I've mentioned it yet, but my husband has been away on a fishing trip with his brother.  (as she rolls her eyes)  Anyway, it's brought an accompanying fact to my attention.  Food.  Cooking for one, and the pitfalls thereof.

 

I didn't realize I was doing it until, just back from my morning run, and I had a breakfast of a glass of orange juice and a chocolate chip cookie.  And it was stale,too.  Whaaaat?!

 

My kids will all tell you this house houses healthy food.  We like our vegetables.  I prefer some nice steamed broccoli over a doughnut.  [  I stuck the doughnut in because I am reading more "Stephanie Plum"  :)  ]  But at the moment, there is just one person in the house, and it seems awfully easy to open the refrig, see what's there, and not cook.  Where does that get me?  Regarding the chocolate chip cookie breakfast, not far.  In fact, I can't imagine the next trip down the trail, if I don't put a stop to this food issue right now.  The oven is preheating as we speak!

 

"Now how is she going to relate that to art?" you ask.  Easy.  Even though as artists, we are often solo in the studio, we can't think like we are cooking, err, painting, for one.  Bad habits will creep in one by one and pretty soon you'll be reaching for the stale cookie instead of the steamed broccoli.  You'll be telling yourself, "ha, no need to paint this morning, I've got a whole bunch of paintings already done, right over there."  "I can skip life drawing group tonight, I've practiced enough"  "Nobody will ever see this painting, it doesn't matter if I work that part out or not." "Itdoesn'tmatter,itdoesn'tmatter,itdoesn'tmatter."

 

THAT'S why as artists we need to be exhibiting our art.  Yeah, there's the dollar factor also, but stick to the point here.  Exhibiting art.  Is not art a communication?  People telling a story through something visual?  People sharing an emotion by putting something on a canvas?  Hard to do that when your holed up solo in the studio and not cooking.

 

And don't you dare assume that I am giving studio time a bad rap.  It is, of course, essential.  But it's also meaningless if you don't get out every now and then and share it with the world.  Happy painting.  And don't forget to share it.

 

Later, Cooper

Greetings,

 

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa.  Sometimes I wonder if being artists in individual studios, working by ourselves ALL DAY LONG causes us to be more sensitive to things "out in the world" when we do finally get there.  Take this morning for instance:  I was out for the morning run, on my normal route.  Maybe it was last night's rain clearing the air, but wow, all kinds of warning signs were staring me in the face.

 

1.  the house a couple blocks north with the big fence and the "caution..dog" sign on it

2.  I look ahead a couple of intersections, and there goes a police car...(implied warning:  behave yourself!)

3.  from the north end of town I hear the train whistle..."don't even think about beating us across the track"

4.  and the school bus, two warnings there, the flashing lights:  "we're stopping" and the stop sign arm:  "hey, now you have to wait until we're done"

 

5.  and then, back in the house, orange juice in hand, I swing through the studio, just to take a peek at yesterday's work.  Oh no.  There it is.  Another warning sign.  All it says is "NO!"

 

Now there are two ways to look at this.  I could lament and wail and have a hissy fit because I put good time in on this painting yesterday, and I could look at the time investment and say "too much time to throw it all away, surely I can fix this".  Or, I could heed the warning sign, that gut instinct that says "yup, this one's for the garbage guys".

 

This song isn't on my play list  :)  but we've all heard it: 

 

You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em...

 

Ten years ago, I would have ignored the warning sign.  I would have told myself I can fix this.  I would have added more paint and lots more time, and the flaw, the error, would still be lurking around in the mess. 

 

Did you catch that key phrase?  Ten years ago.  It's about seasons and seasoning.  And maybe it's not ten, maybe it's fifteen, or for you maybe twenty.  But the point is, it's the building up of experiences.  Right in there with Kenny knowing when to hold'em or fold'em comes the phrase Rome wasn't built in a day.

 

I know, I know--we always hear about a couple of those child geniuses who have it from day one.  (I doubt those reports)  But the rest of us, our artistic experiences have to build.  We build up our cache of painter wisdom, and hopefully it will include warning signs that say "been here, done that, don't want to do it again".  But that cache of painterly wisdom can also build up to include positive signs, directional signs, this worked before, try it again signs.

 

Ha!  Building up to the big crescendo.  Some day we'll get there, right?!

 

Happy painting.

 

Later, Cooper

 

 

Greetings,

 

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa, where the morning is a little damp and a lot foggy.  Just back from the morning run, this thought occurred to me:  being a runner is kind of like being an artist.  Let me explain.

 

It's all about niches.  By the way, don't you just love that little word?  Niche.  If you listen to Webster's, then you get nich and it rhymes with rich.  If you listen to HGTV, then you get a neeeesh and it rhymes with sheeesh.  Sheesh!

 

We need a snippet of a story to get this writing going in the right direction.  Running:  I have mentioned before, I am sure, that I try to get a morning run in 3 or 4 times a week.  My normal route involves the Raccoon River Valley Bicycle Trail, which also tangents the local elementary school.  Now Jefferson is one of those kind of communities where the moms drive their little kiddos to school in the morning.  And there seem to be quite a few of them.  Do I need to mention that causes a mini traffic jam?  And if you are in the area on your morning run--whoa.  At every intersection within a five block radius of the school you have a mom carefully stopping for you and hand-motioning you to go through the intersection ahead of her.  And then I motion back:  no, you go.  And then she motions back, no, you go.  See?  That's the way it is.  And then you have the moms backing out of their driveways while still trying to get kids buckled into their seats concurrently while cell phone checking to see if the neighbor kids need a ride also this morning.  It's just too much for a semi-serious runner to deal with.  Instead, I highly recommend the niche.  The Jefferson runner niche is in a questionable place if you are not an early morning person, because you guessed it.  You have to get up and out there while the moms and kiddos are still eating their Cheerios or Fruit Loops.  But once you are in that niche, you can run unimpeded.  You can get there.

 

"And the artist?" you ask.  "That relates how?"  Follow along please:  we all know, or have at least heard about finding our artistic style.  Our artist's voice.  Happy is the day/decade/century (!) when it happens, right?  What happens when you finally get to happy-land and someone tells you it's not a very lucrative style?  That your "find" is the epitome of NOT mainstream art?

 

Consider this:  you could run along in someone else's niche and be impeded in your journey by all kinds of congestion and confusion.  Because someone else's niche is not right for you.  Or you could run along in your niche, albeit not quite mainstream.  You could run steady and unencumbered in the style that helps you move forward, because it's yours.  And you could get THERE.  Wow.  What a concept, eh?

 

Happy painting.

 

Later, Cooper

Greetings,

 

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa, where it is both a stunning and beautiful day.  Ahhhh, spring.  And I even have a spring painting for you here, in a minute.  First we need to talk about selections.  Or assumptions about selections.  Or something like that.

 

After the youngest Cooper had been away at college long enough to get a firm grip on the realities of laundry, we ended up bequeathed with some of his new "go-to-college-towels".  And they were the nicest ones of the bunch, thick and cushy and the epitome of absorbent.  Why did we get them?  He didn't like them because they took too long in the dryer.  Hunh.

 

Yes, you are at an artist's painting blog, and that bit of a story does have relevance.  Like this:  as artists, we are constantly the recipients of well meaning advice.  If we paint landscapes, then someone tells us we should be painting abstracts.  If we paint abstracts, they tell us we should be painting landscapes.  If we paint figures, they tell us we should be painting anything but!  :)

 

We assimilate all that good advice and begin to assume (as in, making an assumption) that we know, without a doubt, what it is that art patrons of the world will want to select, when they are out looking for a painting.  We let our artistic vision take a road trip down to "I've-been-persuaded-land".  Maybe it's just a day trip, and not too much harm done.  But what if it turns out to be a major journey and one you shouldn't have let yourself get talked into?

 

Because in reality, not everybody chooses for the same reason.  Are we better off trying to paint what we assume will please everyone, or painting what's right and then working to connect with the people who see things the way we do?

 

We could say "a rose by any other name is just as sweet" or "one man's trash is another man's treasure" or "beauty is in the eye of the beholder".  We could even say "thick and cushy versus quick through the dryer".

 

It's not a matter of matching your painting to the person; it's a matter of finding the people who match your painting.

 

Thanks for stopping by.

 

Later, Cooper

 

Yup, you're right.  I did promise a spring painting:

 

  Ready For Spring, an acrylic painting on a nice little 12 x 12 inch canvas.  And yes, in my portfolio, for a zoom-able look.

 

Greetings,

 

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa.

 

It's happened again.  I just got an email from one of the "alternate sites" I use for online presence with my paintings.  "We haven't heard from you in a while...."

 

 

Of course you haven't.  There are so many of you, and there's only one of me.  What's an artist to do?  I gave a fleeting moment of thought to a couple of solutions:

 

a.  Pull up a new doc on microsoftword and print out a schedule, showing what day to take care of which website.  Could include boxes for checking off completion of update as well as boxes for tasks done

b.  I could research an online company that would do those tasks for me and send me another email when they were completed.  Possibly just buy their software package.  In my spare time I could read about it and get it implemented on my computer

c.  I could maintain one good website and let the chips fall where they may on the rest

 

 

Remember when you were in high school and got hit with one of those multiple choice exams?  What advice were you told to follow when you were completely clueless as to the answer?  Pick C.  Now that we are all out of high school, I think you should still excercise that option.

 

Woah.  Let the chips fall where they may?  You thought I was joking when I wrote that, didn't you?

 

Let's back up to the title of this post:  

 

Presence:  At The Intersection Of Studio And Internet.

 

That title was very carefully chosen.  Presence, of course means visibility of our artwork on that easy access venue, the world wide web.  The rest of it, that intersection part, did you notice studio got first billing?  That wasn't by accident, or some linguistic fluency attempt.  It's because studio HAS to come first.

 

All the logical artists out there are saying "well, of course, what would you show on your website if you haven't been to the studio to create something?"

 

But we have  all been witness to, and quite possibly are, one of those who will try anyway:

 

the wannabee artists

the I'm just a little behind schedule artists

the I'll get to that soon artists

the great unfinished painting artists. 

 

And what about the:

 

 just give me a minute to check my facebook friends artist

 or the I'll quick update this program to keep me on track artist?

 

Sum them all up:  it's quick and easy.  NOT artists if they haven't been to the studio first.  Another way to look at it?  You gotta do the homework before you can make the good grade.

 

Go paint.

 

And have a lovely day.  Thanks for stopping by.

 

Later, Cooper

 

 

Greetings,

 

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa, where today we are going to talk about math.  Math, after all, it is tax season, right?  But considering this is an art studio location you are visiting, let's narrow it down to math for artists.  Math for CPA's would blow most of us away anyway.

 

And I was told there would be no math!  Hmpfh.  Brace yourself, but don't get ahead of me, with your thinking this is an article about composing a painting.  You know, we could venture that direction.  Many are the tidbits of info for artists about the golden ration/golden mean, all designed to give you the perfect composition, courtesy of math. However, in an attempt to be more generic, err, broaden our viewpoint, we are going to get to specifics.  Let's talk about multiplication.  Multiplication for artists.  (wow, has anyone ever tackled this before?  Thesis potential?  Nah.)

 

Multiplication is a positive step, right?  It's about increasing, so surely for artists, that's good.  Let's make a list.  Ha, a multiplication table, and we'll label it:

 

Multiplication Table For Artists!

 

1.  Multiply the canvases covered.

 

     I can remember many moons ago when I was just getting back into painting, hearing some wise person say "oh, you have to paint at least 100 paintings before your style will even begin to surface."  In retrospect, that person was a minimalist, for sure.

     I also think about a fellow artist, at least I think she's an artist.  Sometimes it's hard to tell.  She shows up at exhibits with the same paintings, year after year.  No new paintings.  Where does she plan on going with that track record?  "Getting there" as an artist doesn't appear to be in her future.

     Google spewed forth a few interesting facts in this department.  Do you want a notable exception to the more is more thought?  Leonardo DaVinci supposedly painted no more than thirty (30!) paintings in his lifetime.  How the heck did he get so famous?  Oh, right, he was a genius.  Others in the famous category support my thoughts slightly better.  The Van Gogh painting count is around 864, Monet with 1189, Degas recorded his thoughts on approximately 1200 canvases, and Renoir covered a whopping estimated 6000 canvases with paint.  Maybe that's why he's one of my favorites.

     The point is clear, right?  Unless you are a genius like DaVinci, you need to be multiplying those paintings.  If you need more bolstering up in that direction, try this:  besides giving them a title, give them a number, in sequence as completed, and then photograph them for the record book.  When you need an uplifting moment (IcandothisIcandothis) go back to the record book/cd and look at how many you've done, where you've been.  Amazing one's self is a fun trip :)

 

2.  Multiply your conversations.

 

     You know the story for this multiplication table:  1 x 1 = 1

     You spend the day in the studio, all by yourself, painting, painting.  Going to the grocery store to get edibles for the evening meal is a big outing.  You wonder if talking to the paint is a sign that you are certifiable.  Normal people out in the real world wonder how you stand the solitude.  YOU wonder how you stand the solitude.

     And then, whamo.  It's exhibit time.  You are required to morph from the solitary painter to front-and-center-in-the-limelight person.  You have to talk to real people.  And you have to use coherent sentences.  You have to explain your work so that all those people out there "get it".

     Artists write blogs for many and varied reasons, but I think most overlook this benefit:  when you blog about your paintings, you are required to put it into words.  It's turning the visual into literal.  And that's a big step toward standing in front of people and speaking about your art.  Yes, I am well aware that it takes more than that, but it's a good starting point.  And also a good reason to avoid slacker-dom with your blog post.  Use the opportunity.  Blog for all you are worth.  Make sure every post is your new best. 

 

3.  Multiply you visibility.

 

     Getting your art out there is no easy deal.

     The gallery is of course a good option, but you have to cover multiplication factors 1 and 2, and SERIOUSLY,  before a good gallery will pay attention.

     There is nothing wrong with the local venue option:  the coffee shop, the area hospital hallway, the artists co-op (lucky are those of you who have that)

     And don't forget the summer artfair.  Oh wait, maybe you should.  Or at least you should bounce back up to sentence one of this multiplication factor:  getting your art out there is no easy deal.  At the very least you should say it in ALL-CAPS with multiple !!!!! exclamation points.  I love when art fair patrons romanticise about the art fair artist.  More of them should stick around for "pack it up time" or "sudden downpour time".  Better yet, they should arrive pre-dawn for set-up time.  Aaargh.

     And enter again the blog.  Combine it with the good website.  Voila.  You and your paintings gain some pretty good visibility.    

     But it's my opinion (and surely it's true) you can't keep your eggs all in one basket.  I know there are some amazing artists out there who can command all the attention they need with just one venue.  But the rest of us?  I think the law of averages works to our best advantage.  When one venue falls short, the law of averages gives you a chance with the other venue.

 

And there you have it folks.  Multiplication tables for artists.  Complex math for complex people.  What an amazing world we live in.  Happy painting! 

 

Later, Cooper

      

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Greetings,

 

Welcome to the Cooper studio, Jefferson, Iowa.

 

So today, we have clouds, rain, and frustration.  I am pretty sure that neither led to the other, but they all feel about the same.  I won't be able to change the weather much any time soon.  But.  Frustration, that's another story.

 

I qualify frustration as an attitude we put on unwittingly.  You're working along, or trying to, and all of a sudden, there it is.  Frustration--hanging on you, trying to hold you back.  And quite often succeeding.

 

Do you want the whole sad scenario?  It's computer related, so brace yourself.  I love change, except when it comes in the form of a desk top beast.  My husband brought a new-used critter home from the office "lottery" (!).  All was going pretty well, until it was time to burn a CD.  Said desk top beast houses Windows XP, supposedly mentally equipped with the brain cells to do CD burning all on it's own, no extra software needed.  And possibly it can, but we'll likely never know, because for some reason, it can't see the disc when it slides in the little door. 

 

Now maybe I am an overly visual person, but it's pretty hard to miss a 5 or 6 inch disc sliding into a machine, right?  "Please insert a blank recordable CD" it says.  I have tried everything I know how to do, and still, it's NOT WORKING.   Aaargh.  The frustration.

 

And guess what?  The frustration, it was hanging on my shoulders as I moved from the office to the studio.  And guess what else?  The painting that was a problem at the close of yesterday's painting session did not like the frustration either.  Go figure!  It quickly became apparent the frustration was going to hide the solution for that painting from me today.

 

But guess what else?  I caught myself.  Yay for me.  I saw the frustration for what it was, actually what it was doing, especially to a day's worth of studio time.  So what can you do with a boat load of frustration, to keep it from capsizing your day?  I love the phrase "always the student" and frustrating times call for students to review their lessons.  Pull 'em all out and give them a re-run.

 

1.  Wall leaners--take the problem child off the easel, it needs to go stand in the corner.  Beating it to pieces with the paint brush is not likely to help, at least not today.

 

2.  Change it up size-wise.  After a 40 inch canvas, a cute little 12 inch canvas is a walk in the park.

 

3.  Give yourself the sermon.  I can do this, I've done it before, and it'll happen again.  Just stick with it.  Emphasis:  stick with it, as in DO NOT quit.

 

4.  Take off you glasses so you have to stand way back from the easel, make full use of that long handled brush  :)

 

5.  Play.  Details are overrated.

 

6.  Make an extra pot of coffee.  (oh yeah, that's just my treat for job well done :)  )

 

Results?  Fun on the small canvas.  Maybe a photo tomorrow?  And the frustration? Not only did  it NOT lay waste a whole studio day, but I talked it into the corner far enough that I think I can brashly take the aforementioned desk top beast to the computer doctor tomorrow and say "fix this sucker!"  Um, please?

 

Thanks for stopping by.

 

Later, Cooper

Greetings,

 

Welcome to the Cooper Studio, Jefferson, Iowa.  Yup, we just returned home.

 

New Mexico:  we enjoyed ourselves immensely, thank you very much!

 

As we traveled from Taos to Santa Fe, how could we  help but look at paintings?!  Everywhere a gallery.  With so many paintings to see, here's the lesson immediately exhibited: 

 

     1.  know your ability

     2.  critique your art honestly

     3.  price it accordingly.

 

I believe that all artists should take advantage of exhibit opportunities, even when at the beginning of developing their artistic skills-- even when that exhibit opportunity is the hotel hallway leading from the lobby to the breakfast room.  But!  Interesting were those "early skills" artists, whose paintings we saw in Taos, who felt they could put a $5000 price tag on their work, including those paintings hanging in hotel hallways.  Let's be logical here:  if it really was a $5000 painting, someone would have made off with it long ago, right? :)

 

On the opposite end of the scale, may I share one of my favorites from a gallery in Santa Fe? I have seen Scott Burdick's work only on my computer screen prior to last week.  Seeing it in person was a pleasure, to be sure.

 

  Scott Burdick painting at the Sage Gallery in Santa Fe

 

Sure, we all want to be there with our paintings, the prestigious gallery, the handsome prices tagged on our paintings.  Still, some of us just haven't painted enough paintings yet, that "enough paintings quantity" that turns us into gallery ready, dollars commanding pros.  But, keep painting.  Keep exhibiting.  And in the meantime:

 

-know your ability

-critique your art honestly

-price it accordingly

 

Keep the goal in front of you, and work for it.

Thanks for stopping by.

 

Later, Cooper