Here it is a full 10 days until Christmas 2015, and I must tell you, Dear Readers, that I have cheated on my present. It's open, it's set up and it's in use! I admit it, I've been naughty!
My family members don't always understand my answers to ubiquitous questions like: "So, what do you want for Christmas/your birthday this year?" I don't see the problem though; I think that I'm pretty easy in the present department. I like art stuff; get me art stuff! Of course, I like PARTICULAR art stuff; not just any will do mind you. Gift cards to my favorite art store do nicely. See, I'm actually easy to buy for, and I bet you are too My Fellow Artiste.
This year, I put in the work to find my own present and I SCORED big time. At least, for a nerd like me. As I was roaming the accursed Craigslist several weeks ago I came across a Hamilton VR20 industrial drafting table. This particular model has a motor that raises and lowers the drawing board. AWESOME. So I contact the seller, I arrange to meet and see the table, I like, a lot, I negotiate a better price than the original listing, and I load the thing into my truck and drive, 2 1/2 hours, back home, my Precious riding in the bed. Did you get the part about the motorized lift? A tap of the toe makes the drawing surface either raise or lower. No more fiddling with levers and springs and knobs! The tilt is still mechanical, but my next purchase will address that shortcoming! (It never ends, does it?)
After I got the table home, I examined it thoroughly and found it to be in excellent condition. I also found a label stating that the table was manufactured in 1979. Wow. This thing was built to last and it works as if it were new. This was a great find, and hopefully, I've kept it out of the landfill for a few more generations. I wish I knew the back story of this table. Was it used in a factory? An R&D Department? A university Drafting Classroom. I will likely never know, but in my imagination, the design for the hoverboard from Back to the Future II was created on MY table.
Anyway, I feel good about rescuing an awesome piece of art studio furniture from neglect or abandon. I hope that it provides me many years of faithful service, but I am prepared to fix it when the lift mechanism is done. I would certainly encourage you, My Fellow Artistes, to occasionally peruse the inter-webby to see if there might be some perfect piece of productive paraphernalia for your picture-producing pursuits.
My family are glad for me to have this object that I so terribly wanted, though they can't grasp why I needed it. That's OK. Most of the people in my life don't understand The Sickness that dwells within we artists. I choose patience, dialog and understanding over confrontation when it comes to my art studio because I realize that I am the anomaly. People who lack the drive to create can't understand the importance of the trappings of art making. I think you have to work out a deal with these people in your life. Every deal is different but forming that partnership is crucial, unless you are deeply antisocial. I hope that you have learned how to balance this equation in your life because no artist should feel impeded by their loved ones. Creative energy must flow outwardly and the artist's work space is a safe zone for his/her pursuits.
I look at it this way: Yeah, I spend too much money on art supplies. I admit it, I'm a junkie. However, I could be spending the same money on horse races, booze and fast women! Take your pick Family!
Now go make some art!
Chris Ingram
Tuesday, December 15, 2015
Friday, November 22, 2013
Go Sketch in Your Sketchbook
In previous posts, I have written some about the sketchbook. My first post includes a blurb about why I think sketchbook-keeping is important and my first "The Sickness" post concerns my love of sketchbooks and my bad habit of collecting them. Here, I am going to share more of my thinking on the sketchbook, the importance and value of the process, the object itself, and how I am planning to share this passion with some students.
A while back I decided to take a break from teaching classes at my local Arts Center. In the interim I have thought a great deal about the experience; my successes as a teacher, things I could have done better, new things I might try, etc. Ultimately I hope to inflame the passions of aspiring artists and lead them to that which I see as an absolute truth: simply that the world needs art, artists and creativity. My path to fulfilling this hope included teaching classes in basic drawing and oil painting. Though this experience was enjoyable for me, it has occurred to me to wonder if maybe my teaching theory was incorrect. I taught these classes modeled after the instructors and the methods of the program I undertook in college. I'm not sure now that it was the best way to get novices hooked and loving art as I do.
In response to this bout of self-discovery, I have decided to teach a sketchbook class. It is based on my belief that the sketchbook is the artist's Bible. It is the path. It is the way. It is the warehouse of ideas and dreams. It is the artist's practice field. I was taught, and firmly believe, that all artists, regardless of experience level, beginner to seasoned professional, have everything to gain from the habit and practice of keeping a sketchbook, daily. My sketchbooks tell the story of my artist's life. They are the birthplace of many works of art. They are the place in which knowledge and skills were gained, problems were solved, and ideas came to life. I intend to teach others how to make this happen for themselves.
If you would like to see a few examples of what I am talking about, go to YouTube and enter the search term "sketchbook." Among the videos will be a series by a user called "matthew39arch," and I think that you will not be disappointed. I would also recommend a blog by the artist James Gurney, which is called "Gurney Journey." He posts fairly often about his plein air sketching adventures and I find him to be an inspiration.
So, we're sketching and we're learning and we're recording ideas and life events, what now? Now, my friends, you have a work of art. I feel that a sketchbook can be a work of art as much as any work on canvas, or in clay. You also have a personal history, a journal, a recording of your self and your state of being at the time of its creation. By keeping a sketchbook, you are creating your own museum. Your family will enjoy these objects for generations to come. For this reason, I think that you should always date and sign every entry on every page in your sketchbook. Your progeny and art museum curators of the future will thank you for it.
Finally, I recommend that you check out The Sketchbook Project. A fantastic idea with a fantastic approach and a fun website. You may very well want to participate.
Now, go make some art!
Chris Ingram
A while back I decided to take a break from teaching classes at my local Arts Center. In the interim I have thought a great deal about the experience; my successes as a teacher, things I could have done better, new things I might try, etc. Ultimately I hope to inflame the passions of aspiring artists and lead them to that which I see as an absolute truth: simply that the world needs art, artists and creativity. My path to fulfilling this hope included teaching classes in basic drawing and oil painting. Though this experience was enjoyable for me, it has occurred to me to wonder if maybe my teaching theory was incorrect. I taught these classes modeled after the instructors and the methods of the program I undertook in college. I'm not sure now that it was the best way to get novices hooked and loving art as I do.
In response to this bout of self-discovery, I have decided to teach a sketchbook class. It is based on my belief that the sketchbook is the artist's Bible. It is the path. It is the way. It is the warehouse of ideas and dreams. It is the artist's practice field. I was taught, and firmly believe, that all artists, regardless of experience level, beginner to seasoned professional, have everything to gain from the habit and practice of keeping a sketchbook, daily. My sketchbooks tell the story of my artist's life. They are the birthplace of many works of art. They are the place in which knowledge and skills were gained, problems were solved, and ideas came to life. I intend to teach others how to make this happen for themselves.
If you would like to see a few examples of what I am talking about, go to YouTube and enter the search term "sketchbook." Among the videos will be a series by a user called "matthew39arch," and I think that you will not be disappointed. I would also recommend a blog by the artist James Gurney, which is called "Gurney Journey." He posts fairly often about his plein air sketching adventures and I find him to be an inspiration.
So, we're sketching and we're learning and we're recording ideas and life events, what now? Now, my friends, you have a work of art. I feel that a sketchbook can be a work of art as much as any work on canvas, or in clay. You also have a personal history, a journal, a recording of your self and your state of being at the time of its creation. By keeping a sketchbook, you are creating your own museum. Your family will enjoy these objects for generations to come. For this reason, I think that you should always date and sign every entry on every page in your sketchbook. Your progeny and art museum curators of the future will thank you for it.
Finally, I recommend that you check out The Sketchbook Project. A fantastic idea with a fantastic approach and a fun website. You may very well want to participate.
Now, go make some art!
Chris Ingram
Friday, September 27, 2013
The Sickness - Part 3
The time has come once again and I feel the need to share a wonderful art material experience with my artist brethren. In this installment of The Sickness, I turn my attention to brushes. Specifically, brushes for painting in oil, which is my preferred medium. Nearly every art professor I studied with told me to never skimp on brushes, and brother, they weren't kidding. I have seen the light. I am transformed. I have been to the promised land, and I like it there. Never again will I buy a second rate, Chinese-made paint brush. Never again will I shop at Michael's or Hobby Lobby for a paint brush.
My first encounter with paint brush bliss came in the form of an Escoda Clasico chunking hog bristle round number 4. The Escoda brushes are made at a family-owned (4 generations worth) factory in Spain, and they are first rate. I have used many brands of brushes in my career, and the Escoda brushes have rocketed to the top of my list of favorites. They have excellent spring, hold a lot of paint, give beautifully when in contact with the canvas, hold their shape very well and they don't shed. These brushes are themselves works of art. The handles are gorgeous. But, of course, if you are using them correctly, the handles should rapidly become encased in dried paint! Anyway, I can't imagine how any painter could regret purchasing just one Escoda brush and trying it out. I can imagine many dedicated painters skipping meals to save money for a set of these beauties. My favorites are the filberts.
Of similarly high quality are a set of Silver Brush Grand Prix Bristles and Renaissance Cats Tongue Sables that I recently acquired in the form of the Daniel Greene Portraiture Master Set. The Grand Prix brushes are chunking hog bristle, have beautiful matte green handles and copper-plated ferrules. Like the Escodas, the bristles have excellent spring and can carry a lot of paint. They shed minimally, but only on first use in my experience. The sables have a unique cats tongue shape that I find very useful as they essentially perform as a flat, round and filbert, all in one brush. They are soft, as a sable should be, and none of them has shed a single hair. I find that these Renaissance brushes are particularly well balanced and a joy to paint with. My blends have reached new heights of sophistication using these brushes.
There are as many different opinions about brushes as there are artists who use them. Though I would not dare proclaim any authority on this matter, I am happy to share my experiences. The summary of my experiences is short and to the point, and I would deliver it as I imagine Jim Carrey might, by putting on a crazed glare, looking you straight in the eye and in my loudest, most condescending tone shout: "Don't buy cheap brushes, Loser!" In all seriousness, brushes are not the item on which to go cheap. Your brushes are the physical extension of your hands, through which your soul speaks in images on the canvas. Why in the world would you give your soul laryngitis?
Now go make some art!
Chris Ingram
My first encounter with paint brush bliss came in the form of an Escoda Clasico chunking hog bristle round number 4. The Escoda brushes are made at a family-owned (4 generations worth) factory in Spain, and they are first rate. I have used many brands of brushes in my career, and the Escoda brushes have rocketed to the top of my list of favorites. They have excellent spring, hold a lot of paint, give beautifully when in contact with the canvas, hold their shape very well and they don't shed. These brushes are themselves works of art. The handles are gorgeous. But, of course, if you are using them correctly, the handles should rapidly become encased in dried paint! Anyway, I can't imagine how any painter could regret purchasing just one Escoda brush and trying it out. I can imagine many dedicated painters skipping meals to save money for a set of these beauties. My favorites are the filberts.
Of similarly high quality are a set of Silver Brush Grand Prix Bristles and Renaissance Cats Tongue Sables that I recently acquired in the form of the Daniel Greene Portraiture Master Set. The Grand Prix brushes are chunking hog bristle, have beautiful matte green handles and copper-plated ferrules. Like the Escodas, the bristles have excellent spring and can carry a lot of paint. They shed minimally, but only on first use in my experience. The sables have a unique cats tongue shape that I find very useful as they essentially perform as a flat, round and filbert, all in one brush. They are soft, as a sable should be, and none of them has shed a single hair. I find that these Renaissance brushes are particularly well balanced and a joy to paint with. My blends have reached new heights of sophistication using these brushes.
There are as many different opinions about brushes as there are artists who use them. Though I would not dare proclaim any authority on this matter, I am happy to share my experiences. The summary of my experiences is short and to the point, and I would deliver it as I imagine Jim Carrey might, by putting on a crazed glare, looking you straight in the eye and in my loudest, most condescending tone shout: "Don't buy cheap brushes, Loser!" In all seriousness, brushes are not the item on which to go cheap. Your brushes are the physical extension of your hands, through which your soul speaks in images on the canvas. Why in the world would you give your soul laryngitis?
Now go make some art!
Chris Ingram
Friday, February 1, 2013
Art and Technology - Part 1
The irony of using a computer and the internet to capture my
thoughts on technology and its impact on the arts is not lost on me. I think
that it is a very important relationship in these times and it is a relationship
whose dynamic every artist has to create for themselves. There are plenty of
books, websites, career coaches and artist reps out there who claim that they
can do this heavy lifting for an artist, but I really think that we, as
artists, have to do this work for ourselves.
A story that is demonstrative concerns the Scottish artist
Paul Emsley, who recently unveiled his portrait of Kate Middleton, Duchess of
Cambridge, which now hangs in Britain’s National Portrait Gallery. To make a
short story shorter: the Duchess loves the portrait (at least in public) and
the British art establishment and Kate’s fans hate it. Mr. Emsley, who has a
significant body of work that can be seen by anyone, is a portraitist who
creates non-idealized paintings of his subjects. He didn’t give us the
airbrushed, “Fashion Magazine X” version of the Duchess, he gave us the truth
of her beauty. Or is it the beauty of her truth? Machts nichts. More power to
him I say. I don’t particularly buy into the notion of idealizing the subjects
of my portraits either. I prefer to tell real stories with my art. Unless I am
creating a fantasy painting, of course.
I recently read that, because of the uproar and hatred of
the painting, the artist has been in seclusion at his home and he lives in fear
that the painting will be defaced, if not destroyed, by one of Kate’s rabid
fans. Apparently, he has received a lot of hateful and threatening e-mail about
the portrait. For me, this story has inspired a lot of thinking and internal
debate about art and how we use technology to present it to the world. Perhaps
the artist should launch a major and very public counter-offensive and
vehemently defend his creative decisions. Maybe he should say nothing. Should
he paint a new version of the portrait that makes Kate look like a Barbie doll?
I honestly don’t know what he should do, and I have no idea what I might do in
his place. I do know this, the majority of people who are so vicious and quick
to vilify the artist have not seen the painting in person, and only know it
from the photos available on the internet. No photograph, poster or plate in a
book or on the internet has EVER done the original work of art true justice. If
there is a painting that you love, and you have only ever seen it in a book or
on the internet, then you owe yourself the privilege of going to see it in
person. A photo of a work of art is a very small thing when compared to the
work itself. I’m willing to bet that the experience of seeing the Duchess’
portrait in person is revelatory. Wouldn’t it be silly to judge the taste of
the Mac & Cheese by the flavor of the photo on the box?
Now, I accept that this travesty is not completely relevant
to me, except that I, too, have sometimes received negative criticism of my work.
But I take Mr. Emsley’s story as a cautionary tale. Should it ever come to pass
that my art is sought after on such a scale, wherein I am painting portraits of
the rich and famous and am known beyond the region in which I live and work,
then I will endeavor to control my own press. As artists, we can do that up
front through the form and content of the web presence that we maintain. I am currently
building a new website and online portfolio for my art, and, as you can see, I
am trying to be more active in my blog writing. It is a contemporary necessity
to control your digital avatar, which in these modern times is almost as real
as the flesh and blood person that you stare at in the mirror. Be careful with
yours.
PS - I just had a thought about Picasso. Can you imagine how
many paintings he might have sold with the internet at his fingertips? Can you
imagine the power of his reputation with such global reach at his disposal? It’s
a staggering thought, and possibly an inspiration for artists who actively seek
fame. I merely seek to create good art. If my work finds a wide audience,
great, but I’m not going to sell myself out (Thomas Kinkade) to achieve that.
Now go make some art!
Chris Ingram
Now go make some art!
Chris Ingram
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
The Sickness - Part 2
Here I go again, my art material obsession continues. In today's action-packed episode, I'd like to share some thoughts on one of the best, yet most-maligned tools for art making in existence. I speak of the airbrush.
My relationship with the airbrush began in my pre-teen years. My parents used to enjoy making things in ceramics. I'm talking about the mold-made objects: canister sets, 2-foot tall bald eagles, nativity scenes, Christmas trees with internal lighting, etc. To paint (or polychrome for you art school graduates) their ceramic pieces, they had a Paasche H single action airbrush. When the ceramics phase ended for them, I appropriated the airbrush for my scale model hobby. I am an Air Force Brat, so I only ever built war planes and tanks.
Anyway, when I started college at UT Knoxville there was still one hold out professor who would teach the willing about airbrushing. So I bought a Paasche VL double action and started turning in work that I made with it. My Graphic Design teacher, in particular, hated it. Too much illustration she would say. Bite me, I would say. (Behind her back, naturally!) In the summertime, I took my trusty VL to Six Flags Over Georgia and worked as a t-shirt squirter for a couple of summers. I then moved up to caricature artist and switched to a Paasche V double action airbrush. During this time I also started doing some custom automotive and motorcycle art, you know, lots of flames, dragons, skulls, pin up girls, etc. Don't laugh, I made pretty good money doing this!
Eventually, I got out of the t-shirt, car and bike trade because there are just too many knuckleheads out there who want you to work for free, or darn close to it. "It's like free advertising," they'll tell you. B.S. I say. My advice to the aspiring custom car artist is this: GET PAID UP FRONT. Since then, I've been using airbrush to create fine art: works on paper, canvas and to paint certain sculptures.
Now that the history lesson is over, let's get to The Sickness. I own about 20 airbrushes currently. Do I have 20 arms? Can I use 20 airbrushes at once? NO. I just like them. Airbrushes are little works of industrial art to me. They are things of beauty to be admired as well as utilized. The craftsmanship and design of a good airbrush inspires me to make better art, worthy of the tools I use to create it.
I went through a Japan phase a while back in which I convinced myself that the only really good airbrushes were made by Iwata or Richpen. And, for a time, this was pretty much true. The main American manufacturers, Paasche and Badger, were lagging pretty far behind in quality. Thankfully, that has changed. Badger now offers their Renegade series, which I only have a slight familiarity with, and Paasche has their Talon, that I now own 3 of. (Sickness)
I have one stock Talon, and I keep the large (0.66mm) needle/nozzle combination in it for backgrounds and other large coverage uses. The other two are "tuned" and have the ultra fine (0.2mm) and fine (0.3mm) needle/nozzle combinations for fine detail work. (Consult google for articles on airbrush tuning) The tuned Talons come from an airbrush artist named Mike Learn who sells them as Mojo III airbrushes, and they are awesome. Every bit as good as my Iwata Custom Micron CM-B and a whole lot cheaper. The parts are much more affordable as well. As an aside, I'll say that I bought pre-tuned airbrushes because I don't like to do the tuning process myself, and I am perfectly willing to leave it in the hands of an expert.
In conclusion, I love to airbrush, I think that the airbrush is a valid means of creating works of fine art and I own too many of them. If you have never tried to airbrush, I would encourage anyone to seek out an opportunity to at least give it a try. Maybe someone near you would let you try your hand at it. I can promise you two things: One, it is really hard to master the airbrush and two, once you can use it you will be amazed by the airbrush and the ways it can enhance your works of art.
PS - If you airbrush, wear a respirator and avoid Rainbow Lung Syndrome.
Now go make some art!
Chris Ingram
My relationship with the airbrush began in my pre-teen years. My parents used to enjoy making things in ceramics. I'm talking about the mold-made objects: canister sets, 2-foot tall bald eagles, nativity scenes, Christmas trees with internal lighting, etc. To paint (or polychrome for you art school graduates) their ceramic pieces, they had a Paasche H single action airbrush. When the ceramics phase ended for them, I appropriated the airbrush for my scale model hobby. I am an Air Force Brat, so I only ever built war planes and tanks.
Anyway, when I started college at UT Knoxville there was still one hold out professor who would teach the willing about airbrushing. So I bought a Paasche VL double action and started turning in work that I made with it. My Graphic Design teacher, in particular, hated it. Too much illustration she would say. Bite me, I would say. (Behind her back, naturally!) In the summertime, I took my trusty VL to Six Flags Over Georgia and worked as a t-shirt squirter for a couple of summers. I then moved up to caricature artist and switched to a Paasche V double action airbrush. During this time I also started doing some custom automotive and motorcycle art, you know, lots of flames, dragons, skulls, pin up girls, etc. Don't laugh, I made pretty good money doing this!
Eventually, I got out of the t-shirt, car and bike trade because there are just too many knuckleheads out there who want you to work for free, or darn close to it. "It's like free advertising," they'll tell you. B.S. I say. My advice to the aspiring custom car artist is this: GET PAID UP FRONT. Since then, I've been using airbrush to create fine art: works on paper, canvas and to paint certain sculptures.
Now that the history lesson is over, let's get to The Sickness. I own about 20 airbrushes currently. Do I have 20 arms? Can I use 20 airbrushes at once? NO. I just like them. Airbrushes are little works of industrial art to me. They are things of beauty to be admired as well as utilized. The craftsmanship and design of a good airbrush inspires me to make better art, worthy of the tools I use to create it.
I went through a Japan phase a while back in which I convinced myself that the only really good airbrushes were made by Iwata or Richpen. And, for a time, this was pretty much true. The main American manufacturers, Paasche and Badger, were lagging pretty far behind in quality. Thankfully, that has changed. Badger now offers their Renegade series, which I only have a slight familiarity with, and Paasche has their Talon, that I now own 3 of. (Sickness)
I have one stock Talon, and I keep the large (0.66mm) needle/nozzle combination in it for backgrounds and other large coverage uses. The other two are "tuned" and have the ultra fine (0.2mm) and fine (0.3mm) needle/nozzle combinations for fine detail work. (Consult google for articles on airbrush tuning) The tuned Talons come from an airbrush artist named Mike Learn who sells them as Mojo III airbrushes, and they are awesome. Every bit as good as my Iwata Custom Micron CM-B and a whole lot cheaper. The parts are much more affordable as well. As an aside, I'll say that I bought pre-tuned airbrushes because I don't like to do the tuning process myself, and I am perfectly willing to leave it in the hands of an expert.
In conclusion, I love to airbrush, I think that the airbrush is a valid means of creating works of fine art and I own too many of them. If you have never tried to airbrush, I would encourage anyone to seek out an opportunity to at least give it a try. Maybe someone near you would let you try your hand at it. I can promise you two things: One, it is really hard to master the airbrush and two, once you can use it you will be amazed by the airbrush and the ways it can enhance your works of art.
PS - If you airbrush, wear a respirator and avoid Rainbow Lung Syndrome.
Now go make some art!
Chris Ingram
The Art Studio
My art studio has always been in my home. From the corner of my childhood bedroom I have moved up first to a spare bedroom and now finally graduated to a converted "apartment" in the back of my 2-car garage. It is small, but it has a storage closet and a bathroom. It has been a blessing and a revelation to me as an artist to have this space dedicated solely to making art. On the other hand it has also gotten very crowded. I have lined the walls with various desks and counter tops that serve as different "stations" for the various media that I work in. I really have no complaints because this space serves my needs, houses my stuff and there is even a lock on the door to keep the heathens (my children) at bay!
Still, I do miss my academic days, and the huge, open studio spaces that I worked in. It is not only nice, but necessary to be able to step back from a painting to evaluate it. I miss 12 foot ceilings and huge flat files and large windows. Also, I have, as of late, been thinking a lot about the pitfalls of having a studio at home. It sure does make laziness a lot more convenient. Perhaps I might be more productive if I had more skin in the game in the form of rent and utilities?
So, I have been contemplating renting a studio space. I live in a small town that is desperate for revitalization. The downtown area is filled with sundry stores and laughable antique shops, and, sadly, a lot of empty store fronts. Now, I do not depend on foot traffic for sales, so I don't expect or require on-site sales to keep me in business. I just think that I need a workspace away from home. So my internal debate is something along the lines of this: "Rent a studio and I'll make more art. Yeah, but I'll have to pay rent and utilities! So what, if I am making more art, I'll be selling more art and generating more income!" I also think that having a separate studio makes a better impression on clients who can visit such a space and see the work hanging, rather than watching me riffle through file drawers, painting racks and portfolios.
To offset the cost, I have considered inviting a fellow artist or two to share the space and the costs. I am grappling with this idea though; artists are weird people! I suppose we could set up a time share sort of deal.
Anyway, I'd like to hear any thoughts you might have, Dear Readers. Stay at home, or rent a space? HELP!!!
Now go make some art!
Chris Ingram
Still, I do miss my academic days, and the huge, open studio spaces that I worked in. It is not only nice, but necessary to be able to step back from a painting to evaluate it. I miss 12 foot ceilings and huge flat files and large windows. Also, I have, as of late, been thinking a lot about the pitfalls of having a studio at home. It sure does make laziness a lot more convenient. Perhaps I might be more productive if I had more skin in the game in the form of rent and utilities?
So, I have been contemplating renting a studio space. I live in a small town that is desperate for revitalization. The downtown area is filled with sundry stores and laughable antique shops, and, sadly, a lot of empty store fronts. Now, I do not depend on foot traffic for sales, so I don't expect or require on-site sales to keep me in business. I just think that I need a workspace away from home. So my internal debate is something along the lines of this: "Rent a studio and I'll make more art. Yeah, but I'll have to pay rent and utilities! So what, if I am making more art, I'll be selling more art and generating more income!" I also think that having a separate studio makes a better impression on clients who can visit such a space and see the work hanging, rather than watching me riffle through file drawers, painting racks and portfolios.
To offset the cost, I have considered inviting a fellow artist or two to share the space and the costs. I am grappling with this idea though; artists are weird people! I suppose we could set up a time share sort of deal.
Anyway, I'd like to hear any thoughts you might have, Dear Readers. Stay at home, or rent a space? HELP!!!
Now go make some art!
Chris Ingram
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
The Sickness - Part 1
I've mentioned once or twice already that I have a passion, i.e. sickness for art materials. I think that oil paint is one of the most enticing odors on the planet. Anyway, I have decided that any post I make concerning art materials will be titled: "The Sickness." When I get to The Sickness - Part 10,000, I may stop.
In today's dramatic episode I'm going to talk about sketchbooks. Oh how I love to buy sketchbooks. I can't help it, I'm always searching for the perfect paper, the perfect cover, the perfect binding, etc. Well, I have finally discovered a solution.
A couple of years ago, I discovered Rollabind. The Rollabind system is comprised of plastic disks and a special type of punch that punches a series of mushroom-shaped holes along the binding edge of the paper. There is no wire, like a spiral-bound notebook. There are no snap-rings, like a 3-ring binder. Yet, Rollabind offers the best benefits of the two traditional binders. The covers and contents of a Rollabind notebook can rotate completely around and lay flat against the back, exposing only the sheet of paper you are working on, like a spiral-bound book. Any page can be removed and put back into the notebook anywhere you want, just like a 3-ring binder. Rollabind rules. If you are interested, Rollabind has a website, a company called Levenger sells it as their "Circa" system and office supply store Staples now sells it as their "Arc" system. All three are compatible with each other. From Staples, I have purchased a notebook with black leather covers, a punch with an 8-sheet capacity, a set of 11/2" rings, a set of tab dividers, a set of pocket dividers and a poly zip pouch. This set up is now my sketchbook. I buy the drawing papers that I prefer, I cut them down to 8.5"x11" if necessary, and I bind them into my Rollabind sketchbook. I have a mix of white, gray and buff drawing paper, a few sheets of bristol, a few sheets of watercolor paper and a sheet or two of pastel paper with me wherever I go. All in one book. I have also included my Curriculum Vitae, a few sheets of lined writing paper and a 12-month calendar that I use for my scheduling. It doesn't get much more useful than this. I carry this sketchbook and my art supplies in a Studio on the GO sketchbook portfolio that I created.
Please understand, I haven't lost my love for off the shelf sketchbooks, but now I typically discard the manufacturer's binding and punch their paper for my Rollabind sketchbook.
As artists, I think that it is important that we remember the artist's journey. Part of the journey is making the tools work so well for us that we don't have to think about them when it's time to get busy, creatively. Now, I admit that I spend more time on this than I should, but I have had a lot of fun with the process. Based on my experiences, I think that many art supply manufacturers don't really "get" artists or our needs. That being the case, we artists can find a new outlet for expression in how we respond to the quest for the "right" art stuff. Another vital part of this journey is to share our experiences with other artists.
Now go make some art!
Chris Ingram
In today's dramatic episode I'm going to talk about sketchbooks. Oh how I love to buy sketchbooks. I can't help it, I'm always searching for the perfect paper, the perfect cover, the perfect binding, etc. Well, I have finally discovered a solution.
A couple of years ago, I discovered Rollabind. The Rollabind system is comprised of plastic disks and a special type of punch that punches a series of mushroom-shaped holes along the binding edge of the paper. There is no wire, like a spiral-bound notebook. There are no snap-rings, like a 3-ring binder. Yet, Rollabind offers the best benefits of the two traditional binders. The covers and contents of a Rollabind notebook can rotate completely around and lay flat against the back, exposing only the sheet of paper you are working on, like a spiral-bound book. Any page can be removed and put back into the notebook anywhere you want, just like a 3-ring binder. Rollabind rules. If you are interested, Rollabind has a website, a company called Levenger sells it as their "Circa" system and office supply store Staples now sells it as their "Arc" system. All three are compatible with each other. From Staples, I have purchased a notebook with black leather covers, a punch with an 8-sheet capacity, a set of 11/2" rings, a set of tab dividers, a set of pocket dividers and a poly zip pouch. This set up is now my sketchbook. I buy the drawing papers that I prefer, I cut them down to 8.5"x11" if necessary, and I bind them into my Rollabind sketchbook. I have a mix of white, gray and buff drawing paper, a few sheets of bristol, a few sheets of watercolor paper and a sheet or two of pastel paper with me wherever I go. All in one book. I have also included my Curriculum Vitae, a few sheets of lined writing paper and a 12-month calendar that I use for my scheduling. It doesn't get much more useful than this. I carry this sketchbook and my art supplies in a Studio on the GO sketchbook portfolio that I created.
Please understand, I haven't lost my love for off the shelf sketchbooks, but now I typically discard the manufacturer's binding and punch their paper for my Rollabind sketchbook.
As artists, I think that it is important that we remember the artist's journey. Part of the journey is making the tools work so well for us that we don't have to think about them when it's time to get busy, creatively. Now, I admit that I spend more time on this than I should, but I have had a lot of fun with the process. Based on my experiences, I think that many art supply manufacturers don't really "get" artists or our needs. That being the case, we artists can find a new outlet for expression in how we respond to the quest for the "right" art stuff. Another vital part of this journey is to share our experiences with other artists.
Now go make some art!
Chris Ingram
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