Moose Pants Studio

Van Gogh’s expense report? Rembrandt’s record keeping? Sargent’s sales tax exempt form?

Joanna Zeller Quentin / artist, artwork, business, computer, equine artist, Freshbooks, horse art, horse paintings, Joanna Zeller Quentin, Moose Pants Studio, painting, portrait, Ringling College of Art and Design, software, taxes /

As a professional artist, I was expecting a wildly unconventional life of paint slinging, absinthe drinking, bohemian- inspired wanderings, midnight oil burning, and international jet setting. No, that’s not true. What I anticipated from a career as an artist was a great deal of hard work, some wins and a lot of failures, the ability to professionally present myself and my art, quality contacts, supportive fellow artists, lots of museum visiting and book reading, long nights with tight deadlines, and a moderate level of success. That’s what I studied for, prepared for, and signed up for. Thankfully, due to a stellar college education, some aptitude for art and a lot of support from fellow creatives, it’s mostly what I have, and I’m very grateful for it. But do you know the one thing they don’t talk about in art school? The paperwork. Creating and running an art business isn’t just about putting in the work in front of the easel. It’s not even about the packing and shipping and arranging and contracting and marketing and invoicing. It’s about record keeping.

When did I create that piece? What are the dimensions? When did it sell? Who bought it, and for how much? When was it last exhibited? WHERE IS IT??? These are all questions I was confronted with over the past few days. Thankfully, due to a mostly cobbled together but kinda-sorta quasi effective record keeping system, I was able to answer most of them with a minimum of hand wringing and teeth gnashing. (The unanswered one is enough to send my blood pressure skyrocketing, so we’ll just let that be.) But as I huddled in front of my computer, poring through excel spreadsheets, old emails, CVs and invoices, that little nagging voice in my ear kept reminding me that this wasn’t necessarily what I expected when I decided to pursue a professional art career.
Naïve, huh? Yeah, maybe. Surprising? Not really. I am glad that my college required all Illustration majors to take a semester of art business management, which basically boiled down to
1) don’t get screwed on illustration contract negotiations, and 2) always pay your taxes. Although not terribly in depth, this is still more than many BFA programs offer, and I am grateful for it. However, I do wish they had devoted a little more attention to setting up an effective record keeping system for the artwork produced over your career, especially if you don’t work with a rep or gallery. (I also wished for a pony most of my life, and I got that, so what’s the harm in asking???)

Being a Libra, I’m told I’m keenly sensitive to aesthetics and like for things to be beautifully and artistically organized, but in real life I seem to be perennially accompanied by a miniature hurricane. My desk is currently covered with receipts (have to file those), reference photos (have to file those too), sketchbooks, various mark making tools, a few tubes of paint, extra computer cables, flash drives (because mine tend to go on walkabout without me), a few semi important banking things (filed in the “to be filed” pile), and a giant stuffed stingray, but he’s only there for moral support. After a few hours of filing, categorizing, searching, and organizing, the desk is cleaner, but my mind is spinning. There HAS to be a better way to do this, right?

Excel spreadsheets, file folders, a new online invoicing system (thank you, Freshbooks!), a sadly defunct painting inventory software program, digital asset libraries, multiple mailing lists, a pile of press articles, advertising and magazine mentions, print edition records, a few hard drives… it’s enough to make any sane person insane. Part of my goal this year is to once and for all nail down all these disparate items into one cohesive system, one that’s devoted to running Moose Pants Studio like a super successful mega company, even if right now we’re only a very small, moderately successful company. Paperwork, digital asset management, and record keeping is not my forte, but I’m coming to realize that it’s almost as important as putting paintbrush to canvas and producing the work. Intelligently managed, your artwork can have a very successful and lucrative life after you create it, but only if you can stay on top of the organization. Sometimes applying the finishing brushstroke turns out to be just
the beginning of a piece, and not the end.

Do you have any successful art managing tips you’d like to share? I’d love to hear from you!

And, because it’s been making me smile all week…

LOPE Official Artist! It’s all about giving back…

Joanna Zeller Quentin / American Pharoah, art, artist, drawing, equestrian, equine art, horse, Joanna Zeller Quentin, LOPE, LOPETX.org, Lynn reardon, Moose Pants Studio, OTTB, painting, racehorse, Texas, Texas racing, Texas Racing Commission /

It’s all about giving back…

My very own OTTB. This is Baby B Free, aka Frankie. Fabulous jumper, failed racehorse, equine model, artistic muse, and part time therapist.

I’ve always had a thing for Thoroughbreds, and I was delighted to find an awesome organization in Austin, TX, that partners with Texas trainers and owners to retrain and rehome TBs who didn’t quite make it as a racehorse (ahem, Frankie, ahem. Cough cough.) I’ve been a supporter of theirs for years, created pieces specifically for their fundraising efforts, and gotten to know the backbone of this incredible organization, Lynn Reardon, author of Beyond the Homestretch. (Haven’t read it? READ IT!!) LOPE continues to do lifesaving work, not only for the horses they directly handle off the track, but in helping to dispel the myth of the “crazy, uncontrollable thoroughbred who has no future outside of a racetrack.” I’m beyond honored to be named the official artist for LOPE. Visit www.Lopetx.org for more information!

A special note from Joanna: “I grew up riding OTTBs sent to us from Arlington Racetrack in Chicago. You’d think that young TBs recently removed from the track and horse crazy eleven year old girls would be a disastrous combination, but there were surprisingly few problems. What we found were horses who, despite being in an unfamiliar environment and bombarded with unexpected stimuli (what’s that leg pressure all about? What do you mean “trot”? Why are we going in a circle to the right?) were athletic and willing to the extreme with good brains, a great work ethic, and a true eagerness to learn something new. They learned the basics of W-T-C, trot poles, and small jumps, and we learned to be light in our hands, Zen-like in the saddle, safety conscious in the barn, and generous with praise. We rode in a sales barn, so those horses did not stay with us long, but many of them went on to successful careers in the hunter/jumper world. While we “barn rats” may not have played a pivotal role in the long-term development and retraining of those horses, they taught us a lifetime of lessons to be applied both in and out of the saddle. I’m forever grateful to them for introducing me to the world of infinite possibility, incredible resilience, and untapped potential that can be found in the unlikeliest of individuals. I am overjoyed to partner with LOPE and support their lifesaving work devoted to the retraining and rehoming of these incredible equine athletes.”

Official LOPE Artist: Joanna Zeller Quentin

LOPE is delighted to announce a partnership with renowned equine artist Joanna Zeller Quentin of Dallas, TX! Joanna’s award-winning artwork has been exhibited internationally and her images have appeared in the Chronicle of the Horse, Southwest Art Magazine, Horseback Magazine, and Horses in Art. Her work has hung at The International Museum of the Horse, LSU’s School of Veterinary Medicine, The Arts Castle, the Draft Horse Classic, and many other shows, museums and galleries.

She has been a featured artist for LOPE and Southbound Show Management, and she was the official artist for HITS Thermal Winter Show Circuit in 2012, 2014 and 2015. Joanna holds juried memberships in the American Academy of Equine Art, Institute of Equine Artists and the International Society of Scratchboard Artists. Ms. Quentin is also a proud partner of Two Socks Designs, and Dover Saddlery stores nationwide carry her HoofPRINTS™ NoteCard sets. She is represented by Equis Art Gallery in Red Hook, New York.

As LOPE’s official artist, Joanna will regularly donate a substantial percentage of her art sales to LOPE if the customer mentions LOPE beforehand. She will donate artwork for LOPE’s fundraisers and silent auctions and will be designing a special notecard for LOPE to use in regular correspondence with our fans, supporters and adopters. Best of all, Joanna will offer special rates to LOPE adopters for commission portraits of their LOPE horses!

LOPE’s Executive Director, Lynn Reardon, said, “Joanna’s work is exemplary. She truly captures the dynamic grace of horses in motion, as well as their expressiveness and individuality. As a dedicated equestrian and OTTB owner, Joanna especially understands the unique qualities of these wonderful equine athletes. We are honored to name Joanna as LOPE’s official artist and can’t wait to see her work for 2016.”

Welcome to the LOPE family, Joanna!!

To learn more about Joanna and her work, please visit her online at:

www.MoosePantsStudio.com

https://www.facebook.com/MoosePantsStudio/

https://www.etsy.com/shop/MoosePantsStudio

www.mixedmediaonboard.blogspot.com

Unlocking the Mystery

Joanna Zeller Quentin / art, artist, commission, equestrian, equine art, horse, horse painting, Joanna Zeller Quentin, Lady Gaga, Moose Pants Studio, oil, painting, portait, Portfolio /

For the past few months, I’ve been working on a commission that’s been far outside my comfort level. I can’t say too much about it until it’s ready to ship out to the client, but I will readily acknowledge that seldom have I approached a commissioned piece of artwork with such trepidation and determination. This piece has been a huge challenge, in more ways than one, and I’m proud of myself for accepting the challenge. <—– SO SCARY!!!
Each painting has a “ta-da!’ moment, one color or one brushstroke or one line that suddenly and magically transforms the whole piece from a mess of paint into a living, breathing, flowing thing. It’s like slicing through the Gordian knot, except you aren’t sure which tool to use to try and cut it, or what it’s made of, or what will happen when it falls to pieces. (And you’re blindfolded. In a cave. With a bear. Wearing Lady Gaga’s meat dress.) While I’d love to say that my paintings are all meticulously planned out with preparatory color studies and thumbnails, this is unfortunately not the case. Many times, I have a great, wonderful, exciting idea – maybe even a spark from a reference photo or trip to the barn – and I dive right in. I DO plan a little bit, but probably not quite to the level I should. I’m working on it. Really.
But back to this monster challenge. I’ve been mucking about with this thing, studying and obsessing and painting and scraping and repainting, and it just wasn’t quite coming together as I envisioned it. More importantly, it wasn’t coming together as the client envisioned it. But, with the discovery last week of the “missing piece”, which in this case happened to be the perfect, lovely, soft, lively greyish brownish bluish greenish color that I needed for critical areas, the whole painting pivoted around. Suddenly, I can see it! More importantly, I can see the finish line, and (dare I say?) I’m feeling pretty confident about pulling this off.
This year, I’ve set a few ambitious goals for myself. One of them is this blog. (Sigh.) Another is a log book of every piece of art I complete. (I have a computer program for the bookkeeping part of this, but nothing that really allows me to get in there and write detail.) I’m making a list of what works in each piece, what didn’t work, and what I would have done differently. Since I’m aiming to complete one piece a month this year, I hope to have a pretty good little reference book by the time 2017 rolls around.

“A” is for the American Academy of Equine Art

Joanna Zeller Quentin / AAEA, American Academy, art show, dressage, equine art, equine artist, eventing, exhibition, horse painting, horse portrait, hunter jumper, Joanna Zeller Quentin, Kentucky, Moose Pants Studio, oil painting /

The American Academy of Equine Art Juried Fall Open Exhibition opens next week, and for the first time, I am going. I am stoked. Not only does it give Steve and I a great excuse to go to an art opening (after all, my art travels much more than I do!) but did I mention it’s the American Academy of Equine Art? In Kentucky?
The AAEA is recognized as one of the preeminent art membership organizations in the world dedicated to the advancement and excellence of equine art. Membership is by jury and invitation only, and it’s rather difficult to achieve. Even the Fall exhibition – the only show that’s open for nonmembers internationally to apply for, is extremely competitive. It’s not uncommon for them to receive hundreds of entries, and they must jury it down to less than 80 pieces of art. Getting a spot is very, very difficult.

When I was younger, my favorite magazine was called The Equine Image, and it was devoted to equestrian art. The very first issue I ever received had a huge feature on the AAEA’s Fall show (I guess that must have been 1986? 1987?) and immediately, I was hooked. I pored over those pictures from the opening reception. All these artists – artists who drew horses! – surrounded by magnificent equestrian art, smiling and posing and socializing, with the artwork singing off the walls. I knew I wanted to do that some day, and it became my first “bucket list” art entry.
Fast forward to college when I decided to focus on equine and wildlife art and illustration as a career. A notice drifted across my desk for the AAEA Fall Open Juried Exhibition, and I realized I could make the deadline. Full of hope, I picked my three best horse pieces, packed off the slides (SO glad we’ve gotten away from slides) and settled down to await my acceptance letter. I think I even bought a bottle of wine to celebrate.
…
…
…
To this day, that may be the single most brutal rejection letter I’ve ever received. Not only was everything summarily rejected, but all of the judges included scorecards with the rejection letter, and I got to see what they really thought of my work. It wasn’t pretty. (I still have that letter, and I come across it every once in a while in my files. Even now, several years later, it still isn’t pretty.) I drank the wine. I think I cried. I probably contemplated a career as a dental hygienist.
Thankfully, in the years since that first, ill fated, unpleasant rejection letter, I have gotten art juried into the AAEA show. I’ve also received other rejection letters, and, while they aren’t ever pleasant, none of them hold a candle to that first crushing disappointment.
The AAEA has continued to mean something special to me and to all the other artists who depict the equine form. And, for me, it’s above and beyond a society of equine artists. It’s the realization of a dream, and the thing that gave me hope and inspiration and focus when I was lost and searching for a way to make a career out of this art thing. I’m honored to say that I’ve been juried in four times now, which makes me eligible to apply for full membership. I plan to enjoy my first ever trip to Kentucky and the AAEA Fall show, and then return home to Dallas to prepare my membership application. I think I may even chance another bottle of wine.
Here are my four successful AAEA entries from past years.

“Lope” Graphite on bristol board

“Tempest” scratchboard and india ink on clayboard

“Whorld of Trouble” scratchboard on clayboard

“Waiting Room” gouache on pastelboard

Paintbrushes and Polo Wraps, Watercolors and W-T-C, Oil Paints and Neatsfoot Oil.

Joanna Zeller Quentin / artist, drawing, dressage, equestrian, equine art, eventing, gift, horse, horse crazy, horse paintings, hunter jumper, Joanna Zeller Quentin, jumping, Moose Pants Studio, oil, painting, portraits, stable, watercolors /

Someone asked me who I wrote this blog for – what collector or internet browser or customer was my “intended reader”. I write it for all of you, and I write it for myself. I write it because it’s a great visual aid to chart my progress, to compare notes, to observe and remember certain event, artistic milestones, and random thoughts. And I write it for the horse crazy barn rats I see every weekend – the little girls who (like me at that age) would rather clean a saddle than their room or study Centered Riding instead of math homework. I spent as much time as I could at the barn, getting up early on weekend mornings to hitch a ride in with my dad at “OMG, that’s early” o’clock. I spent hours grooming, tacking up, cleaning (always so much cleaning!), and riding. And when I wasn’t doing any of those things, I was watching. I watched every lesson I could, and learned early on that you could get almost as much out of a riding lesson while perched on the rail as perched in the saddle.

It wasn’t until much later that I realized all that watching and touching and doing was actually teaching me something more valuable than how to properly clean a bridle (woe to the person who doesn’t completely disassemble the thing), wrap a polo (thanks forever to Mel S for making me roll and wrap one perfectly 15 times before I was allowed to actually “wrap legs”), pick out feet, watch for colic signs, mix a bran mash, or do any of those thousand other small things that add up to good horsemanship. It was teaching me to SEE and pay attention to detail. It laid a foundation for what has contributed greatly to my career as an equine artist, and by far the most common comment I hear from people, that they buy my work because it is “correct” and still artistic. Having tacked up a horse thousands of times means I know where breastplate attachments attach, and which side the elastic girth sits on. It means that my bridles are properly adjusted, my reins are held properly, and my rider’s heels are down. My horse’s legs are clean, their muscles are in the right spots, and their pupils are the correct shape (not round!) These things are small on the face of it, but in a piece of artwork, they speak volumes of the artist’s understanding of the subject.

I write this blog for one more person. I write it for the little girl (or boy) out there somewhere who loves horses and loves to draw, and isn’t quite sure what those two things will lead to, but chances are it might be something great. I’ve got news for you. It IS great. Just keep on drawing. And watch those heels.

Here are the two most recent pieces to come out of my studio, both done on spec and both done for professionals. (Confession – the bottom piece isn’t QUITE done yet… but it got done enough for the deadline on Monday. It will be finished soon. For real.)

“Momentum – portrait”

Watercolor on board

www.MoosePantsStudio.com

“Rateable – WIP”

India ink on board

www.MoosePantsStudio.com

Who, what, why, where, when…. and how? or… IS IT DONE YET?!?!

Joanna Zeller Quentin / animal, art, artist, commission, Ensglish, equine, gouache, HITS, horse, horses, hunter, Joanna Zeller Quentin, jumper, Moose Pants Studio, nature, painting, portrait, rider, Thermal, watercolor /

I’m supposed to be wrapping up a commission this weekend. Correction: I AM wrapping up a commission this weekend. It’s a really wonderful collection of photo reference, it’s a gift, it’s a direct result of my California trip in March, it’s dynamic and fun and a pleasure to work on… so why isn’t it done yet?

Commission are, in some ways, the easiest type of artwork to work on. You have a predefined purpose in creating the art. You have a client. The art is already sold. Your contract clearly spells out what is expected on both sides. All you have to do is execute it. It’s that rare time for me that the picture in my mind is almost guaranteed to look like the finished product. And yet… and yet…

No matter what the piece of art- the scope, the size, the style- you can and always should push and challenge yourself to create something new, exciting, fresh, every time you sit down at the easel. Now, if creating personal art, this only leads to paralyzing indecision, which is why my studio is full of “orphan projects” – projects that have ideas and plans but got lost somewhere along the way. There’s too much potential there to throw them out, but at the moment, the roadmap is gone, the muse isn’t talking, and incidentally, I suck at art and should just go be a dental hygienist.

Commissions, for the reasons mentioned above, take away a lot of the problems that create “orphans”. Plus, they come with a due date, and that’s a powerful motivation to complete a project. For instance, my self appointed due date is today. (And yet I’m writing a blog. No comment.)

I’m loving the freshness and energy of this commission. Plus, it’s a watercolor, which is a great way of moving out of the oil painting headspace I’ve been in lately. I’m forever grateful to my education (my mom signing me up for watercolor lessons, and my formal art training as an illustrator) that I can work well in different mediums that require completely different approaches and switch back and forth without a lot of angst. I like the color, I like the pose, I like the background. So… is it done? There’s always something to change, improve, redo. I can always go back and push the values, refine the details, push and pull and lift out and rework. I could do it forever and still never be able to say a piece is “done”. (Funnily enough, clients don’t always appreciate this point of view. :-/)

Right now, I’m waiting for my green watercolor wash in the background to dry before I go back into it one more time (really!) and bring out the shadows and highlights, finesse the fine details, add the last details to the faces, and refine, refine, refine.

All right. Watercolor wash is dry. Time to dive in once more (just once more!) and add the finishing touches. Then it’s done. Right. Right?

Hello 2013!

Joanna Zeller Quentin / art, artist, Artists, equestrian, equine, horse, india ink, ink, Joanna Zeller Quentin, Moose, Moose Pants Studio, oil, paint, painting, pants Studio, scratchboard, watercolor /

Hello 2013!

It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to work on this blog. Thankfully, life has taken a few giant bounds forward and part of the new and improved me is a renewed commitment to this site. My apologies for being so lax over the past… year. Sigh.

While I may have been absent from the blogosphere, I have not been absent from the art world. Over the past year I’ve been featured in Horseback Magazine, juried into the always excellent Ex Arte Equinus (2013) and American Academy of Equine Art Fall Exhibition (2012), shipped work to collectors in 6 different states, had work shown in many exhibitions and galleries, and signed a deal to have my line of HoofPRINTS notecards sold in an extremely well respected English tack store nationwide. (they are doing very well, btw, thanks to everyone for embracing them!)

Lots of things coming up and new work on the easel, including two very exciting commissions in progress. In the meantime, here’s a recap of some of the new(er) work from the past few (several) months.

All images ©Joanna Zeller Quentin 2013. All Rights Reserved. www.MoosePantsStudio.com
Please respect my copyright.

Whorld of Trouble ©Joanna Zeller Quentin 2013

Patience ©Joanna Zeller Quentin 2013

Forward ©Joanna Zeller Quentin 2013

Spanish Treasure ©Joanna Zeller Quentin 2013

Spirited ©Joanna Zeller Quentin 2013

Superman ©Joanna Zeller Quentin 2013

Hope is a Thing with Feathers ©Joanna Zeller Quentin 2013

The Importance of Being Educated

Joanna Zeller Quentin / art, art show, artist, College, drawing, English, equine art, figure drawing, horse, horse art, Joanna Zeller Quentin, Moose Pants Studio, MoosePantsStudio, painter, painting, pen, Ringling /

Yesterday I had the very great honor of being awarded the 2012 HITS Themal Desert Circuit (CA) Show Program cover. HITS produces some of the richest and most highly attended and regarded hunter/ jumper show circuits in the country, and to be selected as the cover artist is quite a big deal. I’ve been invited to the HITS Ocala Fine Art Gala several times, and I was also honored to participate in the HITS Saugerties Art Gala in 2010. I’ve never been to Thermal – in fact, I’ve never been to California – but it looks like I now have an excuse to go! Hundreds of riders from across the country attend these multi-week shows, and I’m excited to be able to put my work in front of a West Coast audience.

The HITS Ocala cover was also awarded this week, and it went to a wonderful artist from Florida – Mary Verrandeaux. I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Mary a few times (at the Ocala Art Gala, in fact) and I really, really like her work. But my favorite thing about Mary is that she and I graduated from the same college – the Ringling College of Art and Design. She graduated in the 1980’s, and I graduated in 2000, both of us with degrees in illustration.

I owe a debt of gratitude to my college, and I’m proud to say I’m an alum. I came to Ringling in 1996, with a decent amount of drawing skill from high school and middle school art classes. Magazine pictures, attempted photorealism, unremarkable still lifes, the usual. My first year in college, our professors took all we knew about art and threw it out the window. They challenged us to rethink the whole concept of how to draw, how to paint, how to SEE, and in the process, they tore down everything we thought we knew about art and forced us to start again from the beginning. My second year painting teacher had such a formidable reputation that almost of the students assigned to her class switched to the other painting instructor. I had an unspoken rule never to change professors, so I ended up in a painting class with only three other students, and for a whole year, we had almost an hour of one-on-one instruction every other day. (Painting classes were 3 hours each, three days a week.) We learned to PAINT. (We also learned to stretch our own canvas and make our own gesso, but that’s another story.) I had only had one unhappy experience with oil paints (I painted a hideous flower and my mother rightfully banished the painting to the laundry room) before I walked into her class, so if I have any skill at painting today, a huge amount of credit goes to her. My illustration teacher was an innovator of American illustration (seriously, he’s in the book “Innovators of American Illustration” by Steve Heller) and introduced us to the idea of art as narrative. He gave me some of the best art advice I’ve ever received in my life, and I often think of his words when I’m particularly vexed by a painting. His daughter was “into” horses, and she actually showed at Madison Square Garden (pony division, if I recall correctly), and so he and I spent a lot of time discussing horses. He gave me hope that a career revolving around equine and wildlife art was possible and encouraged me to continue on that path, and I’m forever grateful to him.

I had other influential teachers in figure, printmaking, English lit, and computer illustration, but I will forever cherish the four years of art history we were required to take. We weren’t just taught art history with names of artists, dates and schools of thought, we were immersed in the time. We learned how the art and the music and the fashion of an era went together, how politics, war, famine, wealth and industry affected not only the art of a nation but impacted the entire worldview of its people, and how such events spurred and nurtured – or stifled – the proliferation of the arts worldwide. If I am ever fortunate enough to teach art history, that is the model I will use. Art doesn’t develop in a vacuum, and to teach nothing but dry names and dates robs the student – and the teacher – of the most compelling parts of the story.

New! HoofPRINTS Notecard and Print

“To the Jumper Ring” Pen and marker on bristol board

Pulling out the orphans, plus…. dressage!

Joanna Zeller Quentin / dressage, dressage art, dressage paintings, equine art, horse, Joanna Zeller Quentin, Moose Pants Studio, MoosePantsStudio, oil paintings, paintings, Photography, portraits /

One of the advantages to being able to pursue both commissioned and self generated work is that I get to start on a lot of really cool paintings that I might never get the chance to work on if I were relying on a client commission. Many clients want a carefully controlled painting, starring themselves, their horses, their dogs or cats, their subject, etc, etc, etc. Since this is exactly what a “commissioned” painting is, I’m perfectly okay with that! If you as a client have the idea and the concept (and the money), I will paint whatever you want in any way you may desire. And hopefully at the end of the (painting) day, we both go away happy.

On the other side, there’s self generated work. This is work that is done either as a self promotion piece or a learning curve or to fit a possible show theme or simply because you have an idea that you want to try and capture in an “artistic” way. Since there’s no client looking over your shoulder, there’s no pressure to get it done a certain way, and lots of happy accidents can occur. On the other hand, unless you are shooting for a predetermined deadline (upcoming show, advertising, etc) there’s no real incentive for you to finish the thing quickly.

Sometimes these paintings sort themselves out wonderfully. They practically paint themselves, and at the end of the day, you have a nice new piece of art to hang, sell, use, enter, etc. And sometimes…

… there are the orphans.

Every artist knows what I am talking about. THOSE paintings. The ones that are just too cool to throw away, or the ones you’ve invested too much time/work/paint/frustration in to walk away from (or slink away in defeat), or the ones that are really kinda sorta NICE… if you can just figure out 1) what the problem is and 2) how to resolve it. Sometimes I’m rapturously in love with a single square inch of board, and that square inch is the sole reason for the painting’s continued existence.

This is one reason why art studios are usually pretty cluttered, by the way. It’s very hard to give up on a painting or drawing, and so they get stored away, tucked into portfolios and behind cabinets, and then they multiply like evil little failure rabbits. But every once in awhile, it’s nice to unearth them from the clutter, dust them off and see if you as the artist (and master of your own destiny) can make some magic happen.

I’ve got a bunch of show deadlines in the next few weeks. A ridiculous amount, actually, the kind of number that drives me from my bed at 4:00 in the morning to come into the studio. (Hello everybody!) And this is where the orphans come in handy.

As I write, there are 9 paintings/ drawings hanging out in the studio with me, propped up against walls or scattered on the floor. After carefully reevaluating them with fresh eyes (some of them have been in an unfinished state for several… years (sigh) now), I think there’s enough promise here in a few of them to pull out the old paintbrushes and make a concerted effort at finishing a few of the damn things, thus putting me at least a few hours ahead from the dreaded “blank canvas” stage I’d be in otherwise with deadlines looming and panic attacks and all that. Huzzah! So now instead of having to start and finish a few paintings by… oh, let’s say April 15th… now I only have to FINISH three of them. And that is much more workable. (And then start on May’s deadlines!)

Really.

Here are a few of my (favorite things) orphans that came under review this morning. If all goes well, hopefully you will see these guys in their completed incarnation this year in various and sundry venues.

And then, just for fun, here are a few of the almost 800 (yes, 800) pictures that I took at a dressage show today. The weather was nice, the horses were gorgeous, the drive was peaceful… not a bad way to spend a Saturday. These are the moments that make life as an equine artist worth living. Enjoy!