HOW TO FIND A BEAUTIFUL MODEL FOR FIGURE PAINTING
Thursday, July 24th, 2008
CRYSTAL: 18×14 oil on linen. 2-hour sketch, 2008.
A group of local art friends and I, (Howie Doyle, Dawn McKelvy, Liz Hill, Marty Hatcher, Fred Hulser and Susan Sheets) meet at least every two weeks to paint the model from life. It’s a vital component to painting competently, even if you paint horses! This week was the lovely Crystal G., a lovely, exotic young lady I found at Sephora! You have to be careful how you approach beautiful women, but generally it helps when you’re female, like make-up shops (I bought some bronzer from Crystal), and go in with a lovely daughter. Now Fred and Howie are a little shy about asking (and so they should be! Two middle-aged guys, one with a beard, both looking like artists a.k.a. scruffy most of the time. I’d be leary…very leary..) Not to say Howie hasn’t managed to find us younger models, it’s where he finds them that has us rubbing our chins from time to time. All I’m saying is "Peruvian native attire". (J.K. You know I love you Howie and very much appreciate you setting things up for us.) I’ve found fabulous models at the grocery store, horse shows, hair dressers, restaurants, (chefs and waitresses). You just have to be nice and show them some work so they no you’re not too loopy. It’s always a good idea to tell them they don’t have to model nude, and tell them the address of your studio so they can tell their mums and dads where to come if they go missing! (I’ll have to tell you a funny story about the gorgeous male waiter I hired for us once and was hunted by his drama-queen girlfriend; I’ll look for that painting to show you.) Until then, by for now and have a brilliant day! Go find those models, and if you can’t go to Macaroni Grill, draw all the eaters on the table cloths. Some of my best sketches were done while drinking Chianti!
Poor Johnny! It was pouring down rain at Myerscough college when Johnny, his father Clive and the Vail of Lune hunt came to pose while I painted. (I’m not stupid…There’s me, jet-lagged yet dry in the tent). I was doing a painting demonstration initially in the rain, but the rain soaked my clothes and my paint wouldn’t move, so I chickened-out. Johnny let the rain drizzle down his neck for a full 20 minutes. (The resulting painting is in my studio and will be uploaded soon.)
The sunlit hills of Derbyshire hint of something wonderful around every bend. One can never be prepared, however, for the feast for the eyes that is Chatsworth, the home of the Duke and Duchess of Derbyshire. The beauty of the place, the splendor of its countryside was in fact eclipsed for me by the art collection inside. Chairman of Sotheby’s, the Duke has secured his beloved collection and heritage from the clawing hands of governmental tax laws by ingenious trusts, set up to preserve his precious history. One cannot help but be thankful for him and his family who, while they reside still it the family seat since 1600’s, now rent the 1st floor apartments as custodians of Chatsworth. I imagine the Duke feels deeply in his soul that we are only custodians of art and beauty, and he has done everything in his power to preserve beauty, heritage, and history; all things good about being British, for us all to enjoy. I admire him to the root of my being.
Here I am in the Duke’s sculpture room. I have to admit, I was still reeling from encountering two beautiful Rembrandts (purchased by the Duke’s family in the 1700’s when they were still affordable) and fabulous Lucien Freud’s paintings when I walked into this marvelous gallery. All these treasures to be viewed in someone’s home was a rare, unique experience for me. It gave the art more presence; it seemed more real, more visceral when viewed nestled in its own private setting. 
Here is my newly graduated daughter Lauren in the lawns of Chatsworth. As an art history major, she was equally stunned by Chatsworth.
Well, as you can see, I live a charmed, artful life. I am still digesting our June in the U.K. and France and I am utterly grateful to my husband and to all our friends and relatives who mad our travels magical. See you back on earth! 
In the evenings we would seek the local fine wines and select the brasserie to sample local delights. In the days we would travel through centuries visiting our local Amboise (here is my son Chris at Amboise castle being a gargoyle)…
We were rather shocked at the sheer magnitude of the ego and narcissism that would permit one to build the Palace of Versailles when people were starving all around. Here is Ashley, my second daughter at Versailles..
We didn’t stay too long at Appleby Fair…The gypsies had just arrived and it was a "zoo". We stayed in a wonderful hunting lodge called Bracken Bank Lodge in the Lake District….
While the family was getting up and around I had all manner of wonderful horses to sketch from this lovely pony passing by to a gorgeous Fresian who looked like liquid ebony in the morning northern June light. 
So what do you do in Standish when you’re all nice and dry? Whet your whistle, of course! I took my children to sample beer and crisps at my local pub, the Boar’s Head in Standish. It’s old. I mean, it was mentioned in the Magna Carta old. I’ve passed it thousands of times growing up, and stopped in once or twice as an adult. (I can’t go anywhere without doodling something or someone. This was done in my travel journal with watercolor and a Bic pen.) 
When the kids won’t get up and you want to paint something, what do you paint? I thought I’d do what Sargent did; paint the first thing you see when you walk out of the door. In my case, my clothes from the day before hung out to dry (thanks mother.) Painted directly into my journal on gessoed watercolour paper, in oil (13 x 8).