Painting and the Art of Unlearning

Ralph Oberg, one of my two favorite painting instructors, often drilled into my head that being a successful painter was more a process of unlearning what we think we know about a scene so that we can learn to see what's really there.

He was talking about landscape painting en plein air but it applies to every other representational subject matter too.

What did he mean by this?

If you see clouds as white, pine trees as always green, or mountain as always brown, Ralph's words are for you. As far as color goes, in our minds we often create an association between an object and a color:

• Apples are red
• Oranges are orange
• A tree is green
• An egg is white
• An asphalt road is black

It's not our fault - we are taught these things from the time we're small children and unless you're an artist, you never really have a reason to see things any differently. But if you are an artist and paint those big, puffy clouds in a blue sky as pure white, they will likely look wrong to you. 

Why?

Pure white looks wrong because a cloud really isn't white. A cloud is made up of tiny little droplets of water surrounding small particles of dust. They have no inherent "whiteness" of their own. These little water particles are rather dense (ever fly through clouds in an airplane??) and reflect and refract light from all over the scene. We need to throw away what we think we know about clouds in order to paint them in a way that looks "right" for the landscape we're painting.

In my painting of "Corona Arch," the clouds are not pure white even though it may appear that way at first. The undersides are a mix of colors: permalba white, burnt sienna, ultramarine blue, ivory black, and a little cad orange.

The lighter areas are a mix of white, cad orange, and likely a little lemon yellow and perm red medium thrown in. No pure white. Why?

The color-temperature of the light that day was really warm. It was mid afternoon on a June day, probably 105 deg F, and the rocks were baking. The afternoon sun had an orange cast to it. The light reflected off the rocks onto the trees and clouds was also warm...you can see that captured in the undersides (dark sides) of the clouds. I wanted a sense of that warm orange-y light to suffuse everything in the scene as it did when I was there in person.

Pure white, especially titanium white, is inherently "cool" in color-temperature. I knew the light parts of the clouds needed to be light, but they needed to be quite warm too. That's why I added the orange, yellow, and red. Once the highlights were thrown into the orange color range, they looked "correct" for the colors going in the rest of the scene.

Something else you might notice in this painting is that the shadow areas are full of lively color - they're not black as we often see in photographs. Why? Your eyes don't normally see shadows as black because they are better than a camera at capturing a wide range of tonal changes. The camera's tonal range, in contrast, is quite limited, so if the camera exposes a picture for the light areas, often the shadows will revert to almost-black.

When I initially came upon this scene on a hike I painted a small on-site oil sketch of it. My eyes saw the shadows as full of warm, lively color...unlike the photos I took of the scene (my camera made the shadows tend toward dark purple when I exposed for the lights). When I painted the larger version back in the studio, I tried to reproduce those warm shadows as much as possible, pushing them to strong red in some cases. It worked and is very faithful to the glowing red rocks and canyons of the area around Moab, Utah.

So next time you're outside enjoying a nice day, whether or not you're painting, take some time to look around you. Try to forget what you think you know about a scene and see the colors for what they really are. Do you see the reds and oranges in the conifers? What color is the grass in sunlight vs. shadow? Are the green trees reflecting green onto the undersides of the clouds? What color is the pavement in light and shadow? And have fun unlearning :-)

Painting ("Corona Arch") copyright Nancy Rynes, 2010. Prints available...contact me via email for more information.

An Experiment in Off-handed Painting

"Three Moose in Red"

A few years ago I ran across a magazine article that discussed several artists who, for varying reasons, began painting with their non-dominant hands. I'll admit that at first I thought it was a little weird to even consider - why would anyone want to do that? Wouldn't be really difficult? I'm a righty and the few times I've tried writing with my left hand the results looked like chicken scratch!

Of course I ended up trying it - mostly just to see what would happen and to get a laugh or two.

"Oh Please Oh Please"

Yep, at first it was pretty difficult trying to control my left hand in the same way I control my right. Then a thought occurred to me - DON'T try to make my left hand behave as if it were my right. So I let go of the need to produce a certain outcome and just let things flow as they might.

The first few were really awful so I never bothered to take pics...but after the 3rd, things started looking up for my left-handed alter-ego.

"Balancing Act - study"

 I noticed the paintings were more graphic, less "realistic", with a more contemporary rather than classic feel. Even stranger, at least to me, is that I really wanted to let my wacky, humorous side out in these paintings. I'm not sure if that happened because I didn't really focus on the result, or if another part of my brain had taken over - a part of my brain where all of the humor was stored.

"Stilts"

 I liked the results enough to keep the experiment going. My lefty paintings continue to evolve in ways I would not expect, but that's the fun part of this. I have no expectations as to what the results look like with my left hand so these paintings are really fun and expressive for me. They loosen me up, make me think about painting elements in different ways, and I think in the end they are helping me grow as a painter.

"Crow Medicine"

 I've also been amazed at how well-received these paintings have been here in Maine. My own view of these paintings was that they were strange and a bit goofy and honestly, I didn't take them seriously. This summer I got up the courage to bring a few in to work and a lot of folks really liked the images and the sense of whimsey. That experience gave me a new perspective on these and I realize they're just a valid as my right-handed paintings so I've given them their due - a separate website and a slightly different name for my left-handed alter-ego.

More of my lefty paintings are here:  Nancy Rose Art

"Eyes of the Rainforest"

My latest...it's an 18"x24" oil on linen of a juvenile Great Horned Owl and a stylized Haida owl face in the bark..."Eyes of the Forest". The Haida owl face is a little easier to see in the original, but I've included a detail shot here to help you out :)

Creating a Compelling Painting: Memorable Images

The blur between art and science continues to fascinate me. These days, I'm especially intrigued with new research surrounding vision, visual perception, brain functioning (neurobiology), and how understanding these sciences can help us create art with an impact.

Think about the most memorable paintings or photographs you've ever seen. Which ones have stuck with you over time or have made the most impact?  If you have the time, take a moment and write as many of them down as you can. Note the subject matter too.

Here's what I come up with when I do this exercise:

• John Singer Sargent's "Oyster Gatherers of Cancale" and "Madame X" (figurative)
• Bob Kuhn's "Night on the Town" and "A Little to the Left"(wildlife)
• Leonardo da Vinci's "Mona Lisa" and "The Last Supper" (figurative)
• Michaelangelo's "David" and "Pieta" (figurative)
• Seurat's "Sunday in the Park" (figurative)
• Carl Rungius' "Three Old Gentlemen", "Wyoming Sage", and "Quantrell Moose" (wildlife)
• Rungius' "Lake O'Hara" (landscape)
• JW Waterhouse's "The Lady of Shallott" (figurative)
• Mary Cassatt's "Girl Arranging Her Hair" (figurative)
• Howard Pye's "Buccaneer of the Caribbean" and "The Flying Dutchman" (figurative)

I could keep going but I think you're starting to see a pattern.

It seems that for many of us, the most memorable images we hold in our minds are those which contain people or figures. While I've observed this at art museums and shows, MIT researchers now show us this is indeed the case.

While the human brain can file away many, many images, they're not all equally memorable:

For the new study, the researchers built a collection of about 10,000 images of all kinds — interior-design photos, nature scenes, streetscapes and others. Human subjects in the study (who participated through Amazon’s Mechanical Turk program, which farms tasks out to people sitting at their own computers) were shown a series of images, some of which were repeated. Their task was to indicate, by pressing a key on their keyboard, when an image appeared that they had already seen.

Each image’s memorability rating was determined by how many participants correctly remembered seeing it.
In general, images with people in them are the most memorable, followed by images of human-scale space — such as the produce aisle of a grocery store — and close-ups of objects. Least memorable are natural landscapes, although those can be memorable if they feature an unexpected element, such as shrubbery trimmed into an unusual shape.
It's unclear from the story in the link below as to whether photos with animals were tested for memorability.

What difference does this make to us as artists?

Perhaps now we can begin to understand why 5 out of the last 6 top prize paintings in the Oil Painers of America National Juried Exhibition (at the Associate level) went to paintings depicting the human figure.

Does this mean we should all switch to depicting the human figure in our work?

Hardly, but it does give us a little insight into what attracts a viewer's attention. Seems viewers have an easier time remembering artwork that we can intimately identify with.

Whether you choose to incorporate this finding in to your own work is a personal matter. Bob Kuhn painted wildlife his entire fine art career and supported himself quite nicely, thank you very much.

I'd argue for you to avoid chasing sales - paint what's in your Soul, not simply what you think may sell.

http://web.mit.edu/newsoffice/2011/memorable-images-0524.html

Creating a Compelling Painting - Focal Point

I think one of the common goal of all artists is to create a work of art that is compelling or somehow makes an impact on the viewer.

From the standpoint of a representational painter, some of the things that help to create a compelling painting are masterful use of:

• Color Plan
• Value Plan
• Composition
• Eye Movement
• Focal point

Let's start with the last - focal point. This is often a tough one for landscape painters, and can be problematic for wildlife and figurative painters as well.

In short - you need to have a reason for your viewer to be looking at your painting. Your painting needs one primary center of attention in order to grab the viewer's eye and hold it. If there is no focal point, the viewer's eyes will wander aimlessly around your painting, then wander off if there is nothing to capture the viewer's attention.

And the tough part? The rest of the painting needs to be handled in such a way as to support that one primary focal point.

Some focal points come easily: human figures or animals create instant focal points, so place them with some thought and care. 

I'd rather show you what I mean rather than talk about it:

http://richardprather.com/works/503314/evenings-hush

Where's the focal point in this painting, and how does Richard support that?

The focal point is the little area on the middle-right side of the painting, where the white-sided barn, yellow bus/truck, and cow all congregate. If you notice, to strengthen the focal point Richard did a few things:

• the placement of the cow supports the focal point - your eye is immediately drawn to the animal
• there is a mix of shape, color, and value clustered near the focal point
• Richard placed sharper edges at the focal point - this will also capture your attention because he subdued the edges in the rest of the painting.
• the rest of the details, colors, and values in the other parts of the painting have been subdued to draw attention to the focal area.
• Richard placed a tiny dot of a dark red to strengthen the focal point
• The artist also used a very subtle (but effective), diagonal lead-in from the lower-left part of the painting to that cow near the focal point.

Now take a look at these paintings and see if you can determine the focal point for each, and the ways that the artist supports that:

http://richardprather.com/works/189149/a-new-day

http://danyoungstudio.com/4lg.htm

http://danyoungstudio.com/TheFinale.html

Think about focal point in any painting that you create - where do you want your viewer's eye to travel, and how will your support that?

The Study of Art: Self-teaching vs. More Structured Learning

This is another one of those posts that might ruffle a feather or two...let me just say that this is from my own personal experience and observation as a representational artist and may not apply to those pursuing a non-representational style. 


I've talked to a number of people who paint who consider themselves "self-taught." If you are one of these folks and wish to increase your skills as an artist, (IMO) you might do well to take some classes, workshops, or a structured online course to learn some of the finer points of your medium and approach.

Why?

Basically, most self-taught artists "don't know what they don't know." There is a wealth of information a gifted artist/teacher can pass on to you in a very short amount of time. This knowledge and skill transfer can help you progress more in a weekend workshop than 2-3 years (or more) of self-study could give you. You have that instructor right there, in the flesh, telling and showing you better or different ways of doing things, helping you through a roadblock, helping you to see or mix color, and on and on.

Another interesting thing that I've noted, besides the quick progress of my work after a workshop, is that self-study becomes easier. I get more out of the books I read and DVDs I watch after taking a class. For me it's a positive feedback loop - the more I study with a teacher, the more I learn from ALL methods.

Are there exceptions to this? Of course, but they are quite rare. The vast majority of the "top-tier" and "middle-tier" representational artists I know have had either a formal art education or have taken several workshops - and some have done both. Some have studied under a mentor or had one-on-one tutelage. But the vast majority have learned important skills from someone else.

Besides artistic technique, you can learn some very valuable "business of art" skills when studying under a professional artist. You'll have a lot of time to ask how he/she got that first gallery representation, or what frames they use, or what galleries treat their artists well, etc. Practically anything art-business is fair game during a workshop, so don't be shy about asking!

Can you study on your own and be a "successful" artist? Possibly, but it's much easier and you'll most likely see quicker progress if you occasionally take a workshop or class.

Why Learn to Draw?

I'm probably going to get myself into a lot of trouble with this post, but so be it. 

If you're a representational artist, drawing is one of those skills that you really owe it to yourself to learn, and learn how to do well.

Why learn the skill of drawing when, in these days of computers, digital photos, and projectors, tracing is so easy?

Leaving the purist arguments aside, yes, I do know that various forms of tracing have been used by some well-known artists in the past. Generally though, these methods were employed by artists who already knew how to draw from "scratch." Tracing was (usually) something they employed occasionally and didn't rely on for all of their paintings. Can you imagine the great John Singer Sargent doing all of his portrait work from traced photos? No, neither can I.

These days things are very different.

When I go into a gallery today I see too many paintings that obviously had their beginnings as a tracing of a photo. I don't have an issue with folks who are already skilled in drawing, tracing every now and again (and here you thought I was a total purist). But I do have an issue with folks using tracing exclusively when they never learned how to draw.

I also object to is the thinking that drawing is not necessary for a "successful" representational painting. I would argue just the opposite - that drawing is an essential skill to have if you want to produce quality representational paintings.

Why?

If you know how to draw, it's much easier to salvage a painting if something goes wrong while you're working on it. And trust me, at some point, something will go wrong. Usually when there is a deadline looming. For a very important show. In three days. You'll place a misguided brushstroke and suddenly someone's foot (or paw) looks like a sausage! If you have some drawing skills, you can probably salvage this without discarding the painting and starting over. If you rely only on tracing though, you'll probably need to start over from a fresh tracing. You've lost your outlines with the misguided brushstroke and now you don't know what to do to salvage the foot.

Also, because you draw, you're not "married" to the photo - it's easier for you to exaggerate or accentuate certain things (such as making legs a little longer, exaggerate gesture or movement, or change the tilt of a head or the position of an arm). And because you can easily change things to suit your tastes, your own style will evolve more easily and quickly than if you only knew how to trace. Back to John Singer Sargent...have you noticed how he often exaggerated the height of his subjects or the length of their fingers? And can you imagine Sargent's work without this exaggeration? It's part of his style, and he could not have done it without knowing how to draw.


If you know how to draw, sketching from life will open up a new world of subject matter and observation to you. When you draw something yourself, you get to know how that subject looks very intimately. Every curve and angle makes sense after you draw the object. And the more you draw and sketch, the more you observe and the more intimately you get to know your subject. It's a beautiful positive feedback loop! This is precisely why seasoned artists continue to participate in weekly life drawing sessions, some throughout their lives. It continuously hones our observation and drawing skills. And learning to observe will help you immeasurably not only in your drawings, but in your paintings too. The more you draw and observe your subject, the easier it will be for you to see when something "just isn't right" with one of your paintings. Even better is that it will be easier for you to fix it!

I use my drawing skills constantly with my wildlife art. I take a sketchbook with me on hikes or wildlife observation trips...and I use it! Depending on what mood I'm in, I can draw the wildlife, native plants and flowers, or landscape details. I take my sketchbook with me to natural history museums, especially if they have a particular mounted specimen that I need to see and study (especially helpful for extinct species like the Great Auk or Labrador Duck). And yes, my drawing skills have been the starting point for my paintings, and the savior of many of those!

Besides all of that, drawing is just plain fun! :)

Try it sometime. Give yourself a chance to really learn to draw by taking an in-person class with a live instructor. And be patient with yourself - it might take you 3 or more months to learn the basics, and perhaps years to master the skill. Every time I put pencil to paper I learn something new.

As you've seen, though, the benefits of drawing are very much worth the effort of learning it!

Animal Art Notes - Study Skins Part II

How do you go about finding a study skin collection to use?

The best place to start is a college or university that is close to your residence. Your best bet is to check in with the biology department to see if one of the professors specializes in ornithology (the study of birds). If so, send him or her a letter or e-mail detailing who you are and your request to use the skins. Be specific about which skin(s) you need, why you would like access to them, and how quickly you can be finished. If you have worked with a study skin collection in the past, note that in your letter and be specific as to which collection, and the year(s) you used it. If you have a background in the sciences, note that as well, and provide the URL to your website if you have one.

Be prepared not to be granted access to the collection! A college or university is under no obligation to help you out. Things that may help your cause include:

- Working with ornithologists or collections in the past
- Having a background in biology
- Being a pro-level artist and/or known in your community as an artist
- Having an affiliation with the college, university, or local conservation organizations
- Volunteering on local biology/conservation projects

If you're turned down, you may try checking in with other, more distant colleges or universities and natural history museums to see if they have skin collections you could access. Additionally, some natural history museums have mounted skins (taxidermied mounts) on display behind glass that may meet your needs, but beware of the older mounts as they may have faded or discolored greatly over time. It's usually fine to bring a sketchbook and pen/pencil to museums, but wet media and cameras may not be allowed. Check with the museum before visiting.

If that fails and you're still interested in drawing from skins, don't give up! Join the local Audubon society or birders' group and make yourself and needs known. Be patient, keep talking, keep promoting yourself, continue to create and market your art, and volunteer with on conservation or research projects that appeal to you.

Animal Art Notes - Bird Study Skins Part I

For those of you painting, drawing, or sculpting birds, learning how to work from prepared study skins can open up an entirely new area of reference material for you. I am grateful to have access to a couple of different college and university collections and look to these study skins to fill in gaps from blurry photos, or in composing paintings simply from a memory I have of a scene.

I do not personally advocate simply tracing a photo in order to create a painting or drawing, so study skins have become important reference material for me.

Why not simply trace a photo?

If you do not have the ability to draw and rely solely on tracing to create a painting, you are severely limiting yourself and what you can create. You are now a complete slave to your photo, relying on it for composition, proportion, pose/gesture,  movement, and detail. Your ability to "invent" or create scenes from your imagination is severely limited, as is your ability to make minor tweaks and changes. Basically, you have hog-tied your creativity. If you rely completely on tracing, do yourself a HUGE service and learn to draw. It's a discipline that will take time, but it's time well-spent.

So what is a bird study skin anyway?

Bird study skins are just that - the skin of a bird preserved for later study. These are not taxidermied mounts (although working from mounts can be a valuable aid as well). Preserving a bird as a study skin is a no-frills way to keep a large number of bird specimens in a neat and compact form for future study.

What you get:

1. Usually wings-in mounts
2. Good reference for overall length and measurements of head, beak/bill, legs, and some feathers
3. Body feather patterns and colors on fresh skins
4. The ability to see individual variability in a large collection of skins
5. A bird that stays in one place so you can practice your drawing :)
6. The ability to view and draw extinct species

What you don't get:

1. Typically you won't see wings-out skins because they are more fragile and more difficult to store
2. On older skins, colors of beak/bill and feathers may have faded or changed
3. Skins can be in "not-so-perfect" condition (missing feathers, somewhat contorted, broken wings)
4. Eye details (eyes are not preserved or replaced in these skins)

Do's and Don'ts of using study skins:

1. DO expect to work on-site, not at your home
2. DO bring white cotton gloves and use them for handling fragile skins
3. DO draw using dry media only: pencil and disposable mechanical drawing pens preferred
4. DO ask about photography before bringing your camera
5. DO be respectful and professional: show up on-time, work quickly, and handle the specimens carefully
6. DO gently smooth down feathers if needed
7. DO NOT try to pull the wings out or open the beak - you will break them
8. DO NOT try to move the legs or feet - you will break them too!
9. DO NOT allow water or other liquids near the specimens
10. DO NOT pull on feathers

Working from skins has its limits. It's probably best not to let working from bird study skins take the place of personal observation. Observing birds first hand will allow you to watch how the bird moves, behaves, and communicates. Direct observation also allows you to see accurate colors in different lighting situations. Because of this, working from study skins is a great supplement to personal observation and photograph reference material but in most cases should not replace it.

Obtaining permission to use a study skin collection will be the subject of my next post.

All contents of this post copyright 2011 Nancy Rynes

Abstract/Contemporary "vs." Traditional" Art

In art circles these days, it seems many artists have arranged themselves in one of two opposing "camps": abstract/contemporary artists vs traditional (representational) artists. Some arts organizations have even sprung up to entrench these divisions, separating "us" from "them" with decidedly militant-sounding editorials and websites. Some proponents of "traditional" art completely dismiss anything "modernist" as worthless - not even art. The same can be said for some modernists' views of traditional art.

Seems humans aren't happy unless they can create drama and conflict.

I'm not sure why such a gulf has to exist.

I've been painting for about 25 years, taking it seriously in the last 8-10 years. My work to date would be considered "traditional" in style - certainly representational. I'm not sure I would consider it "art." Craft, yes, but art....? Let me explain...

A couple of years ago I'll admit to a certain boredom with my subject matter - I think my feeling at the time could be summed up by: who really cares to see yet another painting of a woman, a sunset, or a seashore? I mean really...who cares? Yeah, the technique may be beautiful, the lighting exquisite, and the subject well-rendered, but really, what is this saying? I realized my paintings weren't saying much at all. I felt they had no depth, no "soul." They certainly weren't representing what was in my own soul. I was simply painting pretty pictures - things that were appealing to the eye and that sold when hung on a gallery wall. But I had ignored the soul of the painting - and my own too.

And what's art without soul?

It's certainly not art...

So I set about to try to free "soul" in my paintings...and it's something I'll explore for the rest of my life I'm sure. It's also the core of what my course and book will cover. To start things off, I thought I would try abstraction...it looked pretty easy, so why not, right?

Do you "traditional" artists know how utterly difficult it is to create a really well-executed abstract? Try it sometime - I was shocked at how horrible the resulting "art" looked as a whole. Thankfully I had wonderful training and knew how to use my materials (brushes, paints, canvas, etc.), but I had no idea how to compose and execute an abstract painting.

It's not easy - I gained a profound respect for gifted modernists.

I also realized that there are a few things both camps can learn from the other:

-Modernists can learn that there is a huge value in thorough study of the materials and techniques of their chosen media. I have seen a lot of "modern art" where it's obvious that the artist really didn't have a clear understanding of things such as paint handling and application, color mixing, drawing, and composition (for a painter).

-Traditionalists can learn that there is value in learning how to create a pleasing painting absent in obvious subject matter. You'll learn the true importance of value, color, transitions, line, shape, balance, and composition.

-I learned that with modern art, the state of your inner being is more readily apparent in your work. I haven't done a scientific study on this, but I've noted repeatedly that abstract artists with, for example, fast-moving/energetic minds tend to create mostly fast-moving and energetic paintings. This isn't so obvious in traditional or representational pieces - the subject matter and traditional technique can camouflage a lot.

-Both camps can learn the absolute necessity of painting what's in your heart and soul - not what someone else tells you is the "right" thing to paint. When it comes right down to it, you're the best judge of what is right for you. Creating from your soulspace is freeing, energizing, and absolutely satisfying.

I explore 3 different painting styles now...realism with mythic and surreal elements, abstraction, and a hybrid of the two. I'm excited about integrating the two camps in my own work - it seems to give me the balance I crave. And I now look forward to easel time, rather than dread it!

There is always something I can learn from someone else...I'm thankful that I gave abstraction a chance to speak to me and broaden my mind, and my art.

Your Creative Intent

As an artist, is there a type of work have you been longing to create but have been too scared to try? Are you known for your realist still life paintings but have always wanted to try abstract landscapes? Or are you an oil painter wanting to try collage, but you heard from a mentor that collage isn't "real art" so you're reluctant to experiment?

For me, true "art" is about setting free that creative energy that's inside us without putting on it the shackles of someone else's opinion of "acceptable" or "beautiful." So many artists I know are afraid to experiment, are afraid to let their creativity and imaginations out because they are scared about what other people might think. Or they might be afraid the experiment won't be successful or salable.

Rubbish!

Worrying about what other people might think, and letting it influence what you create, is NOT the mainstay of a true artist.

A true artist creates what is in his or her "soul" because he or she MUST create it. It needs to come out, and will come out, no matter what other people think about it or its creator. It may or may not sell - but to a true artist, that is not as important as scratching that creative "itch" inside.

I realize that many professional artists create work that regularly sells -  more power to you! I can only hope those same professional artists are truly creating what is in their souls, and not just what they think might please someone else. Whether your work is realistic in nature, abstract, or expressionistic doesn't matter here - a realist can certainly create a work of art from his or her soul, and an abstract artist can knock out production pieces just because they'll sell. I'm not leaving "craftsmen" out of this either - I have seen some soul-filled work come out of a woodworkers shop, and incredible art come off a potter's wheel.

Perhaps it's not really the product that's the real art - maybe it's the intent and the act of creation?

Think about what your intent is next time you set out to create.

Also ask yourself these questions:

• Are you energized by what you're creating? 
• Is there something else you'd rather be doing?
• Are you excited by it, or bored with it?

If you're bored, your artistic soul might be telling you it's time for a change.

Stay tuned to this blog for more details on my upcoming online course: "Finding Your Creative Vision" which will show you some ways to set your creative energy free and create work that really excites you! It's due out the summer of 2011....contact me to be put on the mailing list, or check back here periodically for updates.