Barbara J Carter

“Broad Tree”, 2008, acrylic on paper, 5×5″ matted to 14×11″

The next in my new series of mini-paintings.

Because I work on several paintings at the same time, it’s not unusual for me to complete several around the same time. This is happening with these mini paintings. I finished painting a few of them late last night. I’m not quite done gluing up the mat assemblies for all of them, but at least I got this one finished and ready for its day in the sun.

I really enjoyed the unusual combination of colors in the lower part of this painting. Pink and orange and turquoise and indigo, oh my!

This painting is sold, but many others may be seen on my web site.

Email inquiries welcome: info@barbarajcarter.com

“Tree at Pacheco”, 2008, acrylic on paper, 5×5″ matted to 14×11″

As I mentioned in my last post, I’m painting a series of “mini” paintings. This is the first to be finished.

I paint these little 5-inch square paintings using a very small brush. There’s something very freeing about this tiny format. These paintings come together much more quickly than my larger ones, allowing me to be more spontaneous. Also, I do enjoy the simpler compositions that allow the pointillist dots to shimmer.

The format of these paintings is important to their appeal. Most of my time is spent painting, but a large chunk also goes into putting together the “package” with the mat and frame. I glue foamcore spacers between the mat and the painting to float the mat above the surface of the painting. The process is rather fussy (I’m very nitpicky about getting everything perfect) but I think the final effect is worth it. (Note: the photo above shows the real mat in a mock frame. The real frames are on order and should be available in time for my next show.)

It’s hard to show in a photo, but the effect of the mat is quite three-dimensional, floating 1/4 inch above the painting. It’s like looking through a tiny window into a different world. It’s much cuter in real life, so I hope you’ll stop by one of my shows and see for yourself!

This painting is available matted $115, or matted and framed in a simple black frame $145.

Email inquiries welcome: info@barbarajcarter.com

A few years ago I painted a series of 5×5-inch mini-paintings. They were much smaller than my canvas paintings, but otherwise they were much like my usual work. There were about a dozen paintings in that series. They were a fun project for me, and proved quite popular with my collectors.

Well, I’m doing it again. I need to have lots of paintings on hand for all of my upcoming shows, and these little guys seem just the thing. They’re pretty quick to paint and the smaller size is more affordable for collectors, not to mention easier to find space for hanging.

Here’s a group shot of the first few mini paintings in the new series, in varying stages of completion. I mat each one with a thick mat that I float above the surface of the painting for a peek-a-boo window effect. The mat hides the edges of the painting. How far does the painting go under the mat? That’s the mystery, and I’m not telling!

Each mat’s outside dimensions are 11×14 inches, a standard frame size. Unlike my paintings on canvas, these mini paintings do require framing, so I make that easier by using a standard size. At my shows I’ll also offer frames to go with these.

Check back for updates as I finish painting and assembling these mini paintings. I’m having a lot of fun with them. The only question: how many will I be able to finish in time for my next show? Stay tuned!

“Soft Light”, 2008, Acrylic on canvas, 12×9″

As I mentioned previously, I began two paintings the same size with similar subjects, intending them to be companions, possibly to be hung together as a pair. And then during the process somehow they diverged.

They’re certainly both in my signature “neo-Pointillist” style. Both are images of the hills around Ojai. But the colors in this one are much more subdued than the last. Subdued for me, anyway! It gives it a calmer feeling.

I think some of the calm feeling comes from the use of the color green. I had a lot of fun working green tones all through the composition in this painting. Of course the shrubbery at the bottom is green, but there are also bits of green peeking out in the hills, as well as green in the sky. I like how that subtly pulls the composition together.

This painting is sold. Many more may be seen at: www.barbarajcarter.com

“Strong Diagonal”, 2008, acrylic on canvas, 12×9″

I chose two similar snapshots of California hills side-lit by the late afternoon sun, on which to base two new paintings. The paintings were to be “companions”: not a diptych necessarily, but the same size and similar enough that they could be hung together.

You know what happens to the best-laid plans…

Yup, the two paintings ended up completely different. But I’m pleased with both. Starting with very similar images, I got two very different results. The two paintings have very different feelings.

This painting, “Strong Diagonal”, is the loud, brash one. Its colors are bright and exuberant. You can feel the heat of the California sunlight spilling across the hillside.

The other one is more subdued. I’ll post it next time.

This painting is sold. Many more may be seen at: www.barbarajcarter.com

Sneak peek of painting in progress:

This is just a small part of the no-longer blank canvas shown in my last post.

That’s all you get to see for now!

The painting still has a long way to go, but rest assured: you’ll see it here when it’s done.

The phrase “blank canvas” gets used a lot in everyday speech. It evokes an image of a blank white surface, waiting for the first mark, the first touch of paint.

It’s pristine, unblemished, expectant. It’s intimidating. It calls to mind Gene Fowler’s description of writing: “Writing is easy. All you do is stare at a blank sheet of paper until drops of blood form on your forehead.“

Ouch!

But in fact this isn’t how you go about creating at all. No one in their right mind starts with an utterly blank canvas or blank sheet of paper. They’d just end up staring at it helplessly. Creativity doesn’t work like that.

No, first you go off by yourself, nowhere near a canvas. You think, you muse, you ponder.

You look around, go for a hike, take in a movie, riffle through your sketchbook, look at art books, magazines, photos. Ideas bubble to the surface, inspired by what you’re looking at, or maybe jarred loose by thinking about something utterly unrelated.

You scribble, sketch, jot down notes, make an outline. You play with colors, messing with paints or pastels or crayons or colored pencil. There’s no pressure at this stage. No finished product is expected. You might use scratch paper, or a scruffy sketchbook, or a private journal. There’s freedom to erase, redo, scratch out, throw away.

At some point, after all this messing about, you’ve got an idea cooking. That’s when you pull out the paper or canvas.

You start writing down the names of your novel’s main characters. You outline the main plot points. You rough in the main masses of your painting, lights and darks, basic shapes. You make sure that it looks like it’s going to work, then you proceed to refine, adding color, texture, details.

Before you know it, you’re painting or writing and that blank canvas wasn’t a hurdle at all. Quite the opposite: it was a natural part of the creative process.

Anyway, for me a blank canvas isn’t white. It’s red.

I don’t paint a canvas red until I know exactly what I’m going to do with it. Bigger ones like this one (which I just finished painting red) take longer to prepare. This delays the gratification of jumping into the actual painting process, but I think the delay is good for me. The anticipation builds my enthusiasm for the task ahead.

A few months ago I mentioned that I was adding phthalocyanine blue (phthalo blue) back to my palette as an experiment. I think I can now report the results of the experiment.

When I was painting landscapes in New England, I struggled to use phthalo blue, but found it too bright and turquoise-y for my purposes. The colors I needed there were more red-toned, cooler blues. All I really needed for that was ultramarine blue. Phthalo blue eventually dropped off my palette entirely. I didn’t have a good use for it.

Then I moved to California. The light here is so different, as well as the terrain. Even the grasses and trees are different. I found myself in need of brighter tones to capture the brilliance of the light here, and so I reached for the phthalo blue. Recalling my earlier struggles with this wild color, I was unsure whether I’d be able to tame the beast this time. It was an experiment.

Now it’s been a few months since I started using phthalo blue again, and I’m pleased to report that it’s going much better this time!

Unfinished painting using phthalo blue in the sky and the hill shadows.

I find phthalo blue is just the thing for capturing the brassy light of California, with its bright skies and shimmering foliage. Phthalo blue mixes some VERY bright colors. This can be a problem if you want subtler tones, but it is terrific if you’re looking for brighter hues. Which I am! I am especially fond of using it in my skies, as well as in shadows. It also perks up tree foliage nicely.

The verdict? Phthalo blue is on my palette to stay!

I’ve been painting with some new paintbrushes lately. They’re synthetic, and I am totally in love with them.

Pop quiz: Can you tell which brush has been used with phthalo blue?

These synthetic brushes work amazingly well with acrylic paint. It makes sense: acrylic paint is synthetic, so it’s highly compatible with synthetic brushes.

But that phthalo blue… it stains like crazy! Oh, the paint washes out of the brush just fine. But it leaves behind a very permanent stain. I can easily tell which of my new brushes have touched phthalo.

Phthalo… it’s forever!

“Trees on the Ridge”, 2008, acrylic on canvas, 24×36″

On a hot sunny day in Southern California, hiking can be either a hot dusty ordeal or a cool shady pleasure, depending on where you choose to go.

One good place to go when the temperature soars is Sullivan Canyon in Los Angeles. Much of the canyon is shaded by large sycamores, gnarled oaks, and other native trees. The trail snakes along the bottom of the canyon where the shade is most plentiful.

Not all the trees are to be found deep in the canyon. This picturesque grove growing along the ridge above the canyon caught my eye, and I snapped a few shots of it as I walked by. Now, half a year later, in the depth of winter (as deep as winter gets here, which admittedly isn’t all that deep!) I’ve finished the painting based on those snapshots. Can you feel the shimmering heat?

This painting is sold, but many others may be seen on my web site.

Email inquiries welcome: info@barbarajcarter.com