I've been giving myself FITS working on a portrait in oils for a memorial. A local woman died in a freak car accident at Christmastime, so we're all pitching in for a memorial benefit. Jambalaya dinner, auctions, face painting (yup. me) to raise money for the surviving family, including small children she left behind. So I decided to paint a portrait. On canvas. With oils. Never mind that I haven't tried this sort of thing, a portrait in oils, for at least 30 years. Naaah. No problem. I'll just whip it out, right?
Yeah.... I made a start a little while ago, because it was either that or put the canvas away for good. And I was pretty happy with it. I knew it was just a rough, to block in the features. And I gave it eyeballs a few days later. And there it sat for days. Looking at me.
Well, the memorial is a week away, so I gave myself permission to fail, if such was the fate of this thing. I've got two more canvases. I could try it again. So I dedicated my day to it.
I won't lie. I watched tutorials about how to give this poor thing some lips. And how to give the eyes some depth. And... it's not so bad. I left the hair blank until last so that I'd have a place to rest the side of my hand, or my little finger, while I worked in close spots on the face. But now that (I think, I hope) the face is done, I've started to rough in the hair. It's the part I'm the least worried about. It's hair. Unless I manage somehow to turn it green, there's no wrong way to do it. I'll post progress pictures and the final product in the self-promotion threat. Probably tonight. I might even be brave enough to post a picture of the woman it's supposed to look like.
On thing I'm happy about is that my Tall Guy is well educated in art. It's his stock in trade. Often, I'll ask him for an opinion about a work I have in progress, and he'll pause, thinking of a tactful answer. He wants to be supportive, but he's also very honest. He'll tell me what he thinks, but he'll do it kindly. So when I asked him to look at my progress, I prepared for that pause. There was none. Without any pause at all, he said "Wow. That's great."
That means a lot to me, because he's not the type to give praise lightly. At all. For him, well-educated in art, to give me a compliment like that is HUGE. It's high praise. I'm tickled pink.
I only hope the family likes it. Or at least that they're aren't insulted.
Wish me luck.