Advice I'd Give My 24-Year-Old Self

 

Jeanette and me, age 24

The part of my recent YouTube video that attracted the most interest was my answer to Andrew’s question about what advice I'd give myself when I was 24.

If I could give my 24-year-old self advice, I’d say: Maintain your independence of vision and work for yourself.

But honestly, I didn’t need that advice back then—I was already on a solid path. I had worked as a background painter for Ralph Bakshi’s renegade animation studio, published my first book, and was about to turn down a job offer from Disney.

I was getting married, moving east, and starting a freelance illustration career. I was still essentially broke, but I was learning a lot, and I would have said to my older self, "Yeah, yeah, I'm already doing what you're saying."

Age 20, with Paul Chadwick and Tom Kinkade, posing for reference

Age 36, working on Dinotopia: The World Beneath

What would have caught my attention at 24 was a glimpse into how dramatically the world would change for artists over the next 40 years because of digital technology. Read the rest at Substack.

What I Learned from Painting this Boat

This blue boat catches my eye as I explore an island in Maine. It's beached at an odd angle above the high tide line. Not far away, a flock of birds gathers on the wires. 

As I paint the picture, I answer your questions about the gouache technique, the overcast light, and the composition. 

But I still wonder about the story of the sailboat, so I ask my friend Clayton Bright, who lives nearby, to explain. He says the boat was used to teach kids to sail. It became obsolete, but the valuable lesson of slowing down and appreciating the present moment—a lesson he learned from his grandmother—remains true.

Read the Q and As on Substack

Which Colors Are Primaries?

Which of these colors are primaries? One of the most basic art questions turns out to be not so simple.

Full story on Substack today.

I'm Editing a Video, and I'd Love to Include Some of Your Questions

 I’m editing a YouTube video, where I paint this little plein-air study of a stranded sailboat:

It’s painted in gouache over a casein priming.

If you have a quick question about the process, you can ask it here in the comments. Or, even better, you can ask a voice question on this Speakpipe link.

Painting from Imagination

 

The key to painting imaginary subjects is to hold onto the dream image as long as possible, even if it's hazy and tentative. Then you work like crazy to find analogues in the real world, and gather references of any kind. Be like a sponge, and "fill the bucket." 

More in my Substack post "How to Visualize a Dream."

'You should be sketching always, always'

 

Abbey wrote to an art student: "You should be sketching always, always. Draw anything. Draw the dishes on the table while you are waiting for your breakfast. Draw the people in the station while you are waiting for your train. Look at everything. It is all part of your world. You are going to be one of a profession to which everything on this earth means something." More on Substack

Is the Computer a "Bicycle for the Mind?"

Steve Jobs wanted the personal computer to be like a “bicycle for the mind.” Has it worked out that way for you?

More on my Substack.

Cesare Tallone's Sight-Size Paintings

Cesare Tallone was an Italian painter born on August 11, 1853, in Savona, Italy. After losing his father at a young age, he moved to Alessandria, where he began his artistic training under decorative artist Pietro Sassi, and then he continued his study at the Brera Academy in Milan.

During his time at the academy, he gained access to Francesco Hayez's studio. Tallone's career flourished as he won several awards, including the triennial combined schools of painting competition at the Brera exhibition in 1879. 

Cesare Tallone (1853–1919) working on a portrait of Alessandro Pirovano, about 1911.

Like his friend Mancini, he practiced sight-size painting. He became well-known for his portraiture, gaining commissions from intellectual, bourgeois, and aristocratic circles. 

Tallone's artistic legacy was further cemented through his teaching positions at the Carrara Academy in Bergamo and later at the Brera Academy in Milan, where he passed away on June 21, 1919.

Reflecting on My Dad

I was never sure what my dad did for a living, because I never got to visit his workplace. He was in mechanical engineering jobs that were either highly technical or top secret.

Once he mentioned that he was in “high vacuum technology.” To my grade-school imagination, that meant he drove around in a giant Hoover vacuum cleaner.

He came home at 5:30 every day. I would wait for him on my red bicycle and ride alongside his car for the last block to our house.

Dad read widely, and he must have had a lot of deep thoughts. But he kept those them mostly locked up inside his head. Maybe I didn’t have enough wit to ask him the right questions to unlock those thoughts.

But also, American dads were probably more remote to their kids in those days than they are now.

He’s been gone now for almost 25 years, and I still think fondly about him. When I clear my throat, I realize I sound exactly like him. I can’t help imagining him riding around on that giant vacuum cleaner.

Painting a Monkey Skull

The Akin Free Library in Pawling, New York is like a time machine that takes you back to a different way of organizing and presenting knowledge about nature.

It's worth a visit, but it's only open Saturdays and Sundays 1:00-4:00d, May - October. Ask to make sure, but it's usually OK to bring stools neat sketch supplies, such as pencil or watercolors.

LWatch this painting bbeing made Here's a link to video