In the past few years, I have increasingly painted from my imagination more than photographs or life. Painting from my imagination is more real to me because it reflects something deep in my soul — and yours. Here’s why.

Painting from photographs — or better, from life — is good practice for an artist who is learning their craft. It teaches proportion, depth, line, color, value, all that good stuff. Any artist worth their salt needs to know these things to produce good art. And they need to know these rules in order to break them, also to produce good art.

The value in painting from life is that it teaches the artist how to see.

“Boot Country,” 2007. Oil on canvas, 24 x 36 inches.

The artist begins to see color and light and proportion and form like never before. She discovers colors that weren’t there a moment ago because two colors have been put side by side. There are new ways of presenting forms. And new surfaces to touch. New harmonies and discords that evoke a mood.

Once an artist gets to a certain skill level, it’s not enough to present what simply is, but what it means. What’s beneath the surface? What do these colors mean? Why is this figure here and not there?

This is how traditional art techniques have conveyed meaning for centuries. Some artists still work in traditional, “realistic” methods and convey a great deal of meaning. A good artist can arrange a still life, or compose a scene with a sitter and certain objects, or imagine certain objects that aren’t actually in the room, in order to express something they feel is important.

The artist has employed their imagination to make their vision appear on the canvas.

The internal world and the external world are linked: how science says imagination may be more real than you think.

The internal world can have as much an impact on a person as the external. After all, internal things such as our emotions and moods can have a strong effect on our physical well-being.

I took a psychology class in my Freshman year of college. There was a case we studied where research compared the brain patterns of depressed people versus healthy people. While wired up to the equipment that measured brain activity, an otherwise healthy woman was talking about her recent breakup, and she momentarily showed the same patterns as a depressed person.

This may be anecdotal evidence at best, but for me, it confirms that “internal” emotions can have a definite physical effect. Internal pain is just as real as physical pain.

I think at some point, what the artist sees or imagines internally is more real than the external world.

The imagined can be brought forth into reality, because for the artist it was real all along.

For a while, I took photos with my smartphone, edited them digitally, and then painted them. This approach creates some wonderful results. But after a while, I felt like I was simply copying my photographs and painting them. So I have tended toward creating new, imaginary scenes lately. Sometimes what I want to express just isn’t in a photograph that I’ve taken. I might combine several photographs, or let the canvas intuitively guide me to something.

What’s my soul guiding me toward? Is it real? Is it abstract? I can’t always say. For me, it is real the minute I put it onto the canvas. What I do know is that’s what I’m supposed to be doing at that moment. I feel like it’s my job to just watch and listen. I’m just a vessel.

Imaginary landscape, a work in progress – where imagination is more real than any real thing.

What does the artist see when he or she closes their eyes?

By doing this, the artist sees, and asks what is possible: what could happen? What wants to happen?

It’s important to realize that prospettiva isn’t just perspective, but pro-spective, a seeing forth. Your vision is very much informed by who you are, so you see through your own lens of experience and attitude and mindset. True vision is seeing forward. And often that seeing forward happens by first looking inward. Look inward, see what is there. Then look outward, and make that a reality.

What I see inwardly is all the possibility of what can be.

The post How painting from my imagination is more real appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

I was between two phases in my life, on the threshold between two things. We call these liminal spaces. I’ve since come to learn that there is magic in the discomfort. Instead of fighting it, I chase it.

“Morning Fog.” Oil on canvas board, 14 x 11 inches.

The word “liminal” comes from the Latin limen, which means a threshold, such as a doorway or portal, anywhere you enter or exit or begin or end. So a liminal space is that time between “what was” and “what’s next.” It’s a period of transition and transformation.

It’s often uncomfortable.

Richard Rohr describes it like this:

… It is when you have left the tried and true, but have not yet been able to replace it with anything else.  It is when you are between your old comfort zone and any possible new answer. If you are not trained in how to hold anxiety, how to live with ambiguity, how to entrust and wait, you will run…anything to flee this terrible cloud of unknowing. 

and:

where we are betwixt and between the familiar and the completely unknown. There alone is our old world left behind, while we are not yet sure of the new existence. That’s a good space where genuine newness can begin. Get there often and stay as long as you can by whatever means possible…This is the sacred space where the old world is able to fall apart, and a bigger world is revealed. If we don’t encounter liminal space in our lives, we start idealizing normalcy.

There are all kinds of reasons for finding yourself in that transitional space: job or career change, moving to a new place, financial stress, quarter-life crisis, midlife crisis, divorce, changes in health, becoming a parent, and so on. It’s a time of transition and transformation that has an enormous impact on you in such a way that you have a lot of uncertainty about the future.

We all experience these things, and they impact us in different ways.

My roller coaster ride with liminal spaces

2020 has been a strange year for a lot of us, but for me it has simply been a time when everyone was experiencing the same strange sensation of “no place.” There’s nowhere to go, and you lose track of where you’ve been.

Yet a few years ago, I was in the middle of some turbulent times. In the space of five years, I:

• got married
• became a parent
• lost my job
• moved several times
• started a new job
• had another kid
• changed jobs a couple more times
• lost a grandparent
• had another kid

It was a lot to take in, and I had a sort of “I’m in my thirties” crisis.

Meanwhile, my painting subject matter reflected this transition in my life.

Over that five-year period, I shifted from urban architecture to foggy abstracts. Urban structures are rigid and clearly mark a place. I painted buildings and markers for buildings and highways and architectural details. In time, I painted a few parking garages and abandoned buildings. Parking lots are by definition liminal, since they are a space you occupy briefly on your way to another space.

Then my work evolved into to hazy, foggy abstracts that could be anywhere. I had fully moved from the concrete to the ephemeral, although my instinct for the manmade structures was one of a slow ephemerality as buildings slowly decay and give way to nature.

“Boot Country.” Oil on canvas, 24 x 36 inches.

“West Park,” oil on canvas, from the Nashville 365 Series.

“Morning Mist.” Acrylic on canvas, 20 x 24 inches

“Morning Drive.” Acrylic on canvas, 8 x 8 inches.

My tendency to paint sunrises and shorelines emphasizes the liminal, as the sunrise or sunset marks the transition between light and darkness, and the edge between water and land is itself another kind of transition.

I’ve come to embrace those transitional, liminal spaces as sacred.

Now, when I find myself in those transitional periods, I embrace them. There’s something sublime about them. I get the sense that something important is about to happen. I want to relish the opportunity. It’s easy to get paralyzed or push as hard as you can. I don’t want to run away to avoid the discomfort. I believe those experiences have much to teach me.

Are you embracing liminal spaces, too?

Nearly all the artwork I’ve made in the past five years touches on some aspect of liminality, and it has only increased now that I recognize it. You can shop for it here.

The post My obsession: finding magic in liminal spaces appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

“Rebirth,” acrylic on canvas. 8 x 8 inches

The truth is, what makes art good or bad is not that simple. But I think there is one main thing art has to do for me to consider it to be “good.”

But before we get to that, what are the things we can measure?

• the level of craftsmanship and technical skill
• adherence to the so-called rules of design or composition
• the number of references and clues for people “in the know”
• Pull up any famous artwork and you can “grade” them, or create a scorecard around these criteria. That’s not an entirely bad way to go about it. But what makes deciding if art is good or bad so hard is that everyone has different standards and it’s hard to agree. (Just like everything else in life.)

And sometimes you come across artworks that check all those boxes but still lack life. It might be objectively good or bad. They are impressive, but they don’t do anything to you on a deep, visceral level.

That’s why I think the most important thing for art to do is make you feel something.

I’ll go so far as to say that some art can be good even if it is technically or compositionally inferior. It’s good because it has meaning and makes you feel something. It has soul. It’s the difference between a song played by a computer, mechanically hitting all the right notes at the right time, and the joy of a crowd singing along to their favorite song at a concert, even though they aren’t perfectly in sync or in tune with each other.

Do the “rules” help make art stronger? Sure. But sometimes you lose something in the process by overthinking it. I think that’s why some so-called “naive” or “outsider” art works so well. It’s free from all the overly intellectual stuff that gets in the way of saying something meaningful.

The bottom line: art needs to make an emotional connection.

In my own art, I try to make sure there’s some kind of feeling in it.

Do I want my paintings to be strong by checking off the boxes I mentioned earlier? Of course. But more than that, I want to make sure you feel something when you look at it.

One simple way for me to do this is to think about how I want people to feel when I’m creating a new painting. Yes, I’m thinking about you. I’m asking myself how you are going to react to it. How do I want you to feel when you see it? Excited? Awed? Terrified? Anything but bored.

Most often, the feeling I’m after is a sense of hope and optimism about the future even if things are going bad. Which is what I’m usually feeling myself, while painting. (I call myself an optimistic pessimist, if that’s even a thing. Personally, I can be kind of moody and gloomy, but I’m always looking for the upside of things.) So for me I’m always chasing after that spark of hope.

So tell me, what’s one piece of art that has moved you and left an impression on you?

One last thing: shipping is free on my online shop through the end of the year! Go check it out.

The post How do you know if art is good or bad? appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

When the world is on fire and everything is going wrong, we make memes and share them on the internet. Memes aren’t high art, but they’re a great coping mechanism.

Since the beginning of the pandemic, memes have absolutely exploded. They’ve helped us gain a sense of levity about the situation.

The most recent one that has caught my eye popped up about 7 times in 24 hours early last week on my Facebook feed. Several artists I know who aren’t connected to each other shared the meme below. It shows the world on fire with a photo of Will Ferrell, representing artists, his hands cupped around his mouth, yelling, “ANYONE WANT TO BUY A PAINTING?”

Art imitates life, or life imitates art?

This pandemic underscores what many of the rest of us — mostly artists — have been aware of for a very long time:

• Productively working from home is possible. Freelancers of all kinds have worked from home for decades.
• Racial injustice has been a problem for generations, but it has been swept aside. Now we all see what “other people” have experienced for so long. (I think the pandemic has made the awareness of racial injustice all the more obvious.)
• The choice between keeping a job and childcare is really hard, and it’s getting even harder now that schools are (sort of) reopening and working from home while managing your kids’ education is harder than it was before. How many artists do you know who try to squeeze in a little bit of work while the kids are napping?
• The world is on fire, and everyone is trying to just make a living. Artists have always hustled to make a living despite everything that is going on in the world. People are scrambling to pay the bills, and artists are no different.

Billy Joel was right: the fire has been burning since the beginning

Billy Joel – We Didn’t Start the Fire (Official Video)

Artists will keep making art, no matter what happens. Art doesn’t get put on hold just because it is not considered “essential.” And often, artists keep making art because of what is happening. A lot of art is a direct response to what is happening in the world.

Why make art when the world is burning?

A couple of years ago I came across an article by Lee Camp, who cites a book called My Bright Abyss, where poet Christian Wiman deals with a cancer diagnosis, asking, “What is poetry’s role when the world is burning?”

The short version is that poetry, and all art-making, really, is part of what makes us human.

Art is essential to our humanity.

Creating is one of the ways we grapple with our world. It’s how we understand reality and parse it and make sense of it. We make paintings, we write books, we sing songs, we write poetry, we tell jokes, we share silly memes. We capture the world and transform it and express it and share it.

Sometimes we create things to escape the world, or to retreat into a place in our minds and hearts that is better than what we are currently facing, but it always comes back to our connection to the outside world.

Art keeps us connected to each other

Everything is Connected, 2016. acrylic on canvas, 8×8 inches. Buy here.

Art reminds us we are all connected. There’s a common thread between our various experiences and so many aspects of our society, from politics to religion to philosophy to history. Art touches all of those things, and by extension, all of us. When we look at art, we see that others have similar experiences. Sometimes the art is the experience. And when art is the shared experience, we have even more in common.

I can’t say it’s been easy to keep creating in this weird time

It’s been incredibly hard. My energy has been depleted more than once, and I’ve felt all the emotions (sometimes all at once.) But I think I really have no choice but to make art, especially since it is such a spiritual thing for me.

When the world is burning, art is absolutely necessary

I love how Lee Camp says that “precisely because the world is burning is there so much art to be done, so much poetry to be written and so many songs to sing.”

Art, as “inessential” as it is, becomes the most necessary thing there is.

I’ll close this with a quote from Toni Morrison:

This is precisely the time when artists go to work. There is no time for despair, no place for self-pity, no need for silence, no room for fear. We speak, we write, we do language. That is how civilizations heal.

I know the world is bruised and bleeding, and though it is important not to ignore its pain, it is also critical to refuse to succumb to its malevolence. Like failure, chaos contains information that can lead to knowledge — even wisdom. Like art.

The post Why Make Art When the World is Burning? appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

Have an artist friend and want to support them but you don’t know how? It’s really not hard to support your artist friend. Yes, make an artist’s day by buying their art! But sometimes you can’t. Read on for ways you can support your artist friend, mostly by showing up and talking to them about their art. Believe me, it will mean the world to them!

1. The best way to make an artist’s day is to buy their art

Yes! Buying an artist’s art is the best way to show your support and make that artist’s day. By doing that, you demonstrate that their art has value and that someone wants to pay for it. If you can’t afford their art right now, keep reading.

2. Next, get other people to buy your artist friend’s art

If you can’t afford your artist friend’s art right now, that’s okay. I bet you have other friends who can! Tell your other friends about your artist friend’s work, and get them to buy it. Learn the stories behind your friend’s work, and repeat that to your friends. Stories are the key to falling in love with art.

Brad Blackman’s Studio, October 2018

3. Make your artist friend’s day by going to their openings

Art openings are a lot of fun! There’s no need to be intimidated by them. Trust me, you’ll find more “weird” people at concerts than at art shows. Just put on a trendy outfit and enjoy the free wine and cheese and talk about the art. Talk about how the art makes you feel. Nothing will encourage an artist more than hearing you tell them about how their art makes you feel.

4. Ask them what they are working on

Artists want to tell you what they are working on, but they might be afraid to share it for a number of reasons. Making art is often deeply personal, so it can be risky to share it, because to the artist it represents something close to their core. It’s extremely vulnerable, and vulnerability takes courage. So artists aren’t likely to just tell you what they are working on, unprompted. That’s why you need to take the initiative and ask your artist friend what projects they have going. If they’re comfortable with you, you’ll get an earful. Or you might hear lamentations about how nothing is happening.

5. Ask them what they want to work on

Sometimes your artist friend is working on things that they don’t really like. I know it sounds crazy. But oftentimes to pay the bills, we artists work on things that sell, not the things we really want to do. Or they lack the courage to do the thing they want to do the most. There is a strong correlation between art and fear. Asking your artist friend what they want to work on can motivate them to take action on those things that need to be brought into the world. Encourage your artist friend!

6. Recognize that for an artist, there’s not a lot of separation between art and life

When you recognize this, your artist friend finally feels seen. Artists often see their lifestyle as a work of art, placing their work and their life in the same container. Their work is their life, and their life is their work. And when your work is your art, there’s not much distinction between art and life. A lot of times, for the artist, it’s all the same thing.

The artist lifestyle can become overwhelming and exhausting, so you might need to gently remind your friend they don’t have to do art all the time. It’s okay to breathe.

7. Remind them to get out of their own head once in a while

Again, your artist friend needs to be reminded it’s okay to breathe. Just go out for a good time. I’m writing this roughly 100 days into the 2020 Coronavirus Lockdown, so it’s hard to remember what it’s like to go out on the town. But it’s good to enjoy life while you can. Go for a hike. Get drinks and good food. Go to the movies. Grab coffee and talk about the books you’re reading. Have a picnic or a cookout or a fancy dinner. Team up to help a great cause. Doing something for someone else is a great way to get out of your own head.

What happens if you don’t support your artist friend?

Kevin Smith puts it so well: “discourage an artist, you get absolutely nothing in return, ever.” Yes, the man behind Jay and Silent Bob and so many other great movies and comics and podcasts.

Remember: It costs nothing to encourage an artist, and the potential benefits are staggering. A pat on the back to an artist now could one day result in your favorite film, or the cartoon you love to get stoned watching, or the song that saves your life. Discourage an artist, you get absolutely nothing in return, ever. I’ve spent the better part of my career getting up after movies and encouraging potential artists in the audience to give it a shot, pointing to myself as proof that anybody can make their dreams come true. I don’t do this altruistically: I’m selfishly insuring that I have cool shit to watch one day by encouraging anybody to follow passions like film or storytelling.

Gavin Aung Than beautifully captured Kevin Smith’s words in this cartoon:

Ready to make an artist’s day?

Now you know how to make an artist’s day and show them the support they deserve. Go!

The post How to Make an Artist’s Day appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

Once you become aware of it and understand it, you start to see it everywhere. I’ll tell you a little about what it is (without going into too much detail because there are entire websites dedicated to the topic) and how it is used in art and how I use it myself.

What is the Golden Section?

First of all, the Golden Section is a Mathematical concept that is seen in nature and used in art, architecture, and music. It’s based on something called the Fibonacci sequence, which is a sequence where each number is the sum of the two numbers preceding it. It goes like this:

0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55, 89, 144…

If you get far enough along in the sequence, the ratio between the numbers is very close to 1:1.61803. What that means in art is you can use it to draw a rectangle or use a canvas where the sides have a ratio of 1:1.61803. So it is close to a two-thirds ratio or more accurately, a 5-to-8 ratio. It’s considered one of the most harmonious and pleasing ratios in the universe. There are several ways you usually see this expressed:

Golden Rectangle

Simply create a square, divide it in half, and draw a diagonal line from the bottom left to the top corner of the half. From the center, extend that same length of line and the end of that is the end of the rectangle. Square it off from there and you have a Golden Rectangle where the short side is 1 and the long side is 1.618. Or the long side is 1 and the short side is .618 of the long side.

If you take a Golden Rectangle and cut out a square, the remaining section is also a Golden Rectangle. You can keep doing this to infinity.

Dividing Rectangles

With any canvas, you can find the Golden Mean point between the edges by multiplying the length by .61803. It’s close to a third — more on that in a bit. You can place these lines on the canvas coming from all directions, then where the lines converge, place important elements there. It gives it a harmonious structure.

Golden Spiral

This is perhaps the most well-known depiction of the Golden Mean. If you connect the points of a bisected Golden Rectangle and make a curve from it, you get the Golden Spiral. You see it everywhere in nature. Make a fist, and look at the spiral of your pinky finger to your hand. That’s pretty close to the same spiral. The shell of the Chambered Nautilus looks like this when you cut it open. Each chamber is 1.6108 times the size of the previous chamber.

By Jahobr – Own work, CC0, Link

Golden Triangles

Golden Triangles are a bit more complex. You can find them in the Golden Spiral, and by joining the “big” and “little” triangles, you get another Golden Triangle, similar to how the Golden Rectangle repeats itself. A regular pentagram contains Golden Triangles.

The “other” Golden Section: The Rule of Thirds

The Rule of Thirds is a simpler, yet related concept. Since 1: 1.6180 is so close to the 1:1.5 ratio, which is the same as 2:3, you can fudge a little and work with thirds instead. Divide your canvas into thirds vertically and horizontally, and place your focal point on one of the four intersections. Chances are you won’t be right on the nose on that point but in the vicinity of that point as well as the Golden Mean point, which is often close enough.

The rule of thirds: divide the canvas into thirds, and place the most important element at one of the intersections.

Some famous examples of the Golden Section from Art History

The Parthenon: Many have said that the Parthenon was built on a 1:1.618 ratio, but it’s actually more like 4:9. The effect is similar, though.

Leonardo Da Vinci famously used the Golden Section (or Golden Mean) in his artwork. I think people look too hard for it in his work, which is highly detailed with lots of elements which can be construed as lining up a certain way. Was it intentional or coincidental? Who knows? That’s probably how Da Vinci wanted it.

Salvador Dali intentionally used the Golden Ratio in his artwork, as you can see in this preliminary sketch for “Leda Atomica.” He was influenced by the book The Geometry of Art and Life (1946) by Matila Ghyka. He cast his wife Gala as Leda, in love with Zeus as the swan, and set her inside a pentagram inside a circle, aligning elements of the painting with the lines of the “divine” shapes.

Salvador Dali, “Leda Atomica,” 1949. Oil on Canvas, 61.1 cm × 45.3 cm (24.1 in × 17.8 in). Dalí Theatre and Museum, Figueres.

Demonstration of how I use it

When I use the Golden Mean when I paint I usually just find the lines from the edges and place important elements there. It’s most often where I put the horizon line.

“Hope,” 2018. acrylic and gold leaf on canvas. 30 x 24 inches

Golden section lines overlaid on “Hope” painting.

In my painting “Hope,” you can see where most of the gold “cloud” fits between the lines, and the peak is at one of the intersections.

If I’m not using a square canvas, I use a 2:3 proportion, or something close to it. A 5:8 canvas proportion is more exact. I’m not a slave to using this proportion, since I actually prefer painting on squares. I use the Golden Mean as a general guideline.

When I’m doing page layout as a graphic designer, I like to start with a 6×9 page, and divide that into a 9 x 9 grid, which is easy to build on. I totally stole this idea from Jan Tschichold, who created the classic Penguin book covers.

I like this 2:3 method which works well for creating a nice page grid. Most of the time I don’t get to use that page proportion, but I often create a 9×9 grid on the page and use that as a general guide.

The Golden Section is not a hard and fast rule

I don’t think you have to use the Golden Mean (Golden Ratio or Golden Section) in artwork for it to be good. This is just one tool among many, and I don’t always use it. Some people draw lines all over stuff and then say it means something profound when it doesn’t mean anything at all. I just use it as a rule of thumb and then break the rules as I see fit.

The post How I use the Golden Section When I Paint appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

I love a challenge. Abstract painting can be hard to understand and even harder to create. Yet there’s a certain universality to it that it bridges communities in an incredible way. It just takes a little effort.

“Drawbridge,” acrylic on canvas. 8×8 inches, 2017.

I love how abstract painting speaks to our time

The longer I live, the more I see so many interpretations of the world and everything we all experience. There’s not just one experience or interpretation of the world, but many. (Or there is one experience, and variety is the very definition of it.) Interpretations are as varied as individuals. It makes life interesting! There’s so much to explore, and the Social Age gives so many a place to share and explore together.

It’s a lot like looking at clouds: everybody sees something a little different. When you look at an abstract artwork, your own interpretation is based on who you are and what you’ve experienced. Where highly realistic artwork often tells you what the interpretation is, abstract painting is open to interpretation. And a lot of times, your interpretation is a mirror of who you are.

At the same time, I can make a similar case for highly detailed, highly polished realistic or surrealistic artwork like that of my friend Sam Dunson, because your reaction has a lot to do with who you are and how you look at things.

Abstract painting reduces things to its essence

It’s easy to confuse abstraction with non-objectivity when you first begin looking at abstract art. Non-objective painting isn’t based on reality. It might be geometric or areas of color or pattern. Abstraction is based in reality. It just removes extra information so that the most important parts are shown. Abstract painting is challenging the way poetry is challenging: information is condensed, compressed, and edited.

A few years ago I came across Scott McCloud’s book Understanding Comics. He does a phenomenal job explaining the levels of abstraction, and how meaning is retained despite abstraction. What’s amazing is how the mind can see a circle with two dots and a line and interpret that as a face, when in fact it looks nothing like a face.

Page 31 from Understanding Comics: The human brain has the amazing ability to interpret an abstract circle, two dots, and a line as a face.

I love a challenge: abstract painting is a lot harder than it looks

I know a lot of people look at modern, abstract, and contemporary art and say, “I could do that,” or “my kid could do that.” (But you didn’t.)

The thing is, abstract art is a lot harder to pull off than it looks.

It looks simple enough to paint an entire canvas blue and call it art. But it takes a lot of mental and aesthetic gymnastics to get there. In hindsight it’s easy to see how over time, from the 1880s to the 1960s, art gets more and more simplified to the point where it gets reduced to a single color.

Creating good abstract art takes a lot of knowledge and understanding of composition plus the skill to pull it off. You have to understand things before you can deconstruct them. Picasso explored a different way of seeing space and time by showing multiple viewpoints at once, as well as express the horror he saw in the world. But before that, he was an excellent draftsman who knew how to render things as well as Rembrandt.

Abstract painting expresses an emotional purity unobscured by unnecessary details

Because abstraction is reduction and simplification, abstract painting isn’t weighed down by unnecessary details. Like I said earlier, it’s a lot like poetry since it is condensed and compressed. Showing the essence of a thing or idea allows it to be purer and more direct. The result is that abstract painting is often rawer and more visceral both in how it is seen and how it is painted.

The post Why I Love Abstract Painting appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

The artist’s life is probably less glamorous than you’d think. I get up and exercise and shower just like everyone else. My kids need their dad and my wife needs time and attention from her husband. Graphic design clients expect need things from me, and painting customers and fans want to see what I’m creating next. It can be overwhelming. (I feel my chest getting tight just thinking about it all. Hello anxiety!) So that’s why I’ve made several checklists and keep a planner.

What an artist’s daily checklist and rituals look like

A year ago we started using a checklist for the kids so they can stay on track. Both of our boys have ADHD, so it helps them stay focused, especially the one who is also on the autism spectrum. (He loves checklists!) Heck, it helps the rest of us stay focused. We printed the checklists out and put them in clear acrylic stands and gave the kids dry-erase markers so they can check things off each day.

Earlier this year, I read Michael Hyatt’s book Free to Focus. He talks about setting daily rituals and templating your day and week so you can maximize your productivity and creativity and get more done in less time. The result is less stress and anxiety about what you should be doing.

After about six months of thinking about it, I created my own daily checklist. Years ago I realized I had something of a ritual already in place: I follow almost the exact same sequence every morning when I shower and get dressed. I always put on deodorant first, then fix my hair, then brush my teeth. (I also pull everything out of my drawer and put it back as soon as I use it. That way, if my deodorant is still on the counter, I know I haven’t put it on.)

So it was easy to systematically think about what I do every day and put it in a good structure to be more productive.

Now, if I find myself staring off into space wondering what I should be doing, I just look at my checklist. It’s not terribly different from some of the examples Michael Hyatt gives in Free to Focus. Here’s your glimpse to a day in the life of an artist.

A day in the life of an artist: daily rituals

Morning Ritual

• Drink 500 mL water
• Make bed
• Make coffee
• Bodyweight exercises
• Read devotional/Bible
• Journal/morning pages
• Shower and get dressed
• Make and eat breakfast

Workday startup

• Process email inboxes to zero
• Check Slack, etc.
• Review today’s calendar
• Review annual goals
• Finalize today’s Big 3

Workday shut down

• Process email inboxes to zero
• Check Slack, etc.
• Move unfinished items to new days/times
• Process the day’s notes
• Determine tomorrow’s to-dos

Evening ritual

• Make the next day’s lunch
• Set out tomorrow’s clothes
• Write to-dos for tomorrow
• Read 30 minutes
• Put kids to bed pray, talk, sing
• Pray with Hope
• Spend time with Hope

I also made a list of everything that I might do in a given day

In an effort to streamline my day, I have categorized all the things I do. It’s a little overwhelming to look at all of it at once, but when you break it down by category it is more manageable. This makes it easier to use time blocks and do certain activities in batches. For example, I set aside the afternoon for working on content. I try to do billing and shipping on Fridays. Years ago I wrote about my ideal week schedule, which I’ve modified a few times over the years.

I can only focus on one particular area in my life at a time. I wouldn’t try to do all of these on the same day or even in the same week. But I’ll do several of these things each day.

Admin

• Email
• Billing
• Filing
• Shipping
• Adding artworks to database 
• Ordering supplies

Blogging

• Plan content calendar 
• Create rough high-level content (sort of an outline)
• Fill in the content
• Edit blog post
• Promotion

Social Media

• Content calendar planning
• Create social media graphics
• Schedule social media
• Reply to people on social media
• Comment on social media

Graphic Design

• Design sketches
• Layout/Design
• Design edits
• Reading
• Research

Studio

• Gesso
• Tone canvas
• Painting
• Painting edits
• Varnish

Painting Photography

• Photograph paintings
• Photo editing

Business Building

• Meetings
• Lead generation
• Networking

Personal Development

• Journaling 
• Reading
• Video training

Household

• Unload/reload dishwasher
• Put away dishes
• Vacuum
• Sweep/mop
• Wash clothes
• Fold/distribute clothes
• Iron clothes
• Repairs
• Pay bills
• Update budget
• Buy groceries

Health

• Exercise
• Run/walk
• Get 7 hours of sleep every night

Is this helpful?

So that’s your look at a day in the life of an artist. Feel free to swipe any of this and rearrange it as you see fit for your life. Let me know how it goes!

The post Behind the Scenes: a Day in the Life of an Artist appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

Before the hands-free Tennessee law was passed, I would take pictures of things as I passed them on the road. Yes, I knew it was dangerous. I’ve since quit doing it. I’m not sure if that’s because I don’t drive as much now due to the state of lockdown over the past two-and-a-half months or if it’s out of respect to the law — probably a combination of both. Also, my compositions are becoming less photography-based. But for years I would photograph things while driving and use those photos as reference for my paintings.

I was obsessed with overpasses, then fog

It all started not long after I got out of college and while driving to and from work, overpasses would catch my eye. I was fascinated with these triangles of light and shadow that emerged from the angled embankments beneath the overpasses and bridges. It was dangerous inspiration because I’d try to snap photos while the car was moving. At the time my paintings were fairly realistic but with exaggerated colors.

I scanned the prints and manipulated them in Photoshop. Then I painted the manipulations on canvas.

McGavock, 2003. Oil on canvas, 40×20×2 inches 

Every now and then I would experiment with abstraction, flattening and simplifying everything, perhaps a sign of things to come. I wanted to focus on the dynamic shapes while keeping a sense of depth and drama.

Melrose II, 2004. Oil on canvas, 30×30 inches

How dangerous is it to carry a camera in the car?

I had an SLR camera that a family friend from church purchased for me before I went off to spend a semester in Italy a few years before. This was before digital was really a worthwhile investment, and I would keep it handy.

After several years of hard use, the Canon Rebel was broken beyond repair — I could have gotten it repaired but it would have cost as much as getting a new one. So I saved up my money and got the first generation digital Rebel. I carried that DSLR in the car a lot, too. I remember going on excursions where I would walk for miles on a bright Saturday morning, capturing architectural details and then painting them later. Not quite the dangerous inspiration as shooting photos while driving. I got much safer.

Morning Fog, 2013. Oil on canvas board, 14×11 inches

I used to dream about “prosumer” level cameras with 17-megapixel capability so I could print out images in perfect clarity on a tabloid size sheet of paper.

As I moved into the abstract, photo quality ceased to be as important. I experienced a resurgence in photography about 9 years ago when I got my first iPhone, experimenting with abstract realist photos of the architectural details I saw in my lunchtime walks in downtown Nashville.

Not long after that, my paintings became more about capturing mood and atmosphere, not photographic details. Eventually, I quit printing my photos out, opting instead for viewing them on my iPad while painting, and even then I didn’t use them as reference very long as the canvas would take on a life of its own.

I don’t do this anymore, and I don’t recommend it

As I mentioned earlier, Tennessee passed the Hands-free Tennessee law last summer, which makes it illegal to use your device while driving. I’m happy to say I’m about 95% hands-free now (still need to get a mount to put my phone on the dashboard) and I don’t take photos of things while driving anymore.

I’m still inspired by the same things, such as fog in a field and light and shadow on overpasses. But now if I capture photos of it I do it when I’m a passenger or record it in my mind.

The post Dangerous Inspiration: The Risky Thing I Do appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

Recently, we’ve seen Black lives taken unfairly and publicly, thanks to social media and the resulting protests. We’ve learned the names of people whose lives ended far too soon: Breonna Taylor, George Floyd, and Ahmad Abery, and countless more. The sad thing is that this sort of thing has been going on for centuries, but it has taken the always-on social world media to make it painfully obvious.

Like many other white people, I have silenced my own social media and blog content in order to take a step back and let Black voices take the stage. And learn how to listen.

Learning how to listen takes some work.

It’s still shocking to read, listen, and learn about what has been swept under the rug for years. But know that I’m looking for ways to support the Black community. I may even ask for your help from time to time, and I hope you will happily join in.

I keep being reminded of this passage from the Old Testament:

“He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.”

Micah 6:8 (NIV)

I’ll be back with more art content next week. Thanks for being a friend.

The post Learning to Listen in the Face of Injustice appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

This summer, I’m reading about personal growth, art, the business of art, and parenting.

If you’re like me, you’ve set book-reading goals every January. Well, in 2019, I actually hit that goal for the first time. I said I would read twelve books, and I read thirteen. I was elated. So of course, I doubled my goal for 2020.

I got off to a good start, but I wasn’t counting on a pandemic to make reading simultaneously more available and harder. I have way more time to read now that I’m home all the time, but less motivation to read. That said, in the first few weeks of the shutdown I finished The Lord of the Rings trilogy after starting it two years earlier. But once I finished that, it was time to move on to some other books that have been on my list for a while.

Update:

I compiled this list a few weeks ago, when my biggest concern was getting back to work after the pandemic is over. Then I learned that being “not racist” is not the same as being anti-racist, so this summer I’ll be adding some other books to this list to further educate myself as a white man who needs to come to terms with the impact of racism and how to teach his own kids to be anti-racist. I’m looking to add some books to this list such as White Fragility (which I looked for at my suburban library last summer and it wasn’t even in their system, which was not entirely surprising) among others that I’ve seen recommended lately. I want to hear your recommendations.

So, here are seven books I’m going to try to knock out this summer.

Mindset: The New Psychology of Success, Carol S. Dweck

My friend Cory Huff (who has mentored me through The Abundant Artist) recommended this to me some time ago, and it’s all about two major mindsets: the fixed mindset and the growth mindset. In a nutshell, the fixed mindset says that there are limits to what you can do and either you’re born with gifts or you aren’t. The growth mindset says that all things are possible. I’ve come to realize that I have a growth mindset when it comes to my creative effort, but a fixed mindset when it comes to my business. I subconsciously limit myself, and that’s something I’m working to change.

52 Things Sons Need from Their Dads: What Fathers Can Do to Build a Lasting Relationship, Jay Payleitner

I forgot I had this – I found it when I was cleaning out a few weeks ago. As a father of two boys, this sounds like something I need to read. I read Strong Fathers, Strong Daughters when my daughter was little. Things are definitely different for boys nowadays than when I was their age. I want to prepare them for the challenges of growing up to be men who love the Lord.

The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, Stephen R. Covey

This is another book I found while cleaning out. I didn’t know I had it. Maybe it was my wife’s before we got married. I’m not sure. But what I am sure of is that I will be listening to my friend Jeff Brown’s podcast episode with the author’s son Stephen M. R. Covey. Because this book has made such an impact over the last 30 years, I have no doubt I’ll come away with some new habits to put in place.

Concerning the Spiritual in Art, Wassily Kandinsky

I read this one about twenty years ago, and it was such a great read. So much food for thought from one of the pioneers of abstract art a hundred years ago. What has really stuck with me is the illustration of society riding on a large triangle pushing through advancements, and the front edge of the triangle is the forefront of knowledge and consciousness. It’s strikingly similar to an illustration in Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance where the forefront of consciousness is at the nose of a train, and everything else catches up to it.

How to Survive and Prosper as an Artist: Selling Yourself without Selling Your Soul (7th Edition), Carroll Michels

A few weeks ago, my friend Beth Inglish texted me asking if I could use some books and art supplies as she was getting ready to move several states away. One book was How to Survive and Prosper as an Artist. I actually read the 5th edition of this over a decade ago. It was great, but I don’t think it had much to say about selling art online. I knew I was due for a re-read, especially now that I have other books like How to Sell Your Art Online and Art Money Success, but I predict this 7th edition will be a fantastic update.

Start with Your People: The Daily Decision That Changes Everything, Brian Dixon

Brian Dixon is one of those people who knows a lot of the same people I know, which tells me he’s somebody I can trust. So when he started showing up more and more in my online circles I began to follow him, and when he came out with this book last year, I had to grab a copy. I’m only now getting around to reading it, but it has been incredible so far. The premise is to serve those immediately around you first, before trying to puff yourself up and make yourself great.

The $12 Million Stuffed Shark: The curious Economics of Contemporary Art, Don Thompson

Another book that Cory Huff recommended to me, The $12 Million Stuffed Shark is about how the economics of the contemporary art industry works. To be clear, this is about the upper tier of art gallery and auction sales. It’s astonishing how much money some people have, and how much they will pay to prove they have good taste. If you’ve ever wondered how expensive art gets so expensive, this book explains it.

So that’s what I’m reading this summer.

What’s in your reading stack for Summer 2020? If you have any great fiction recommendations, just drop them in the comments below!

DISCLOSURE OF MATERIAL CONNECTION: You should assume the owner of this website and/or blog has an affiliate relationship and/or another material connection, to any suppliers of goods and services that may be discussed here, and may be compensated for showing ads or recommending products or services, or linking to the supplier’s website.

The post The Most Interesting Books I’m Reading (Summer 2020) appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

I’ll dive into what’s meant by “the sublime” and give some examples of it that I’ve experienced in art and music.

“First Light.” Acrylic on canvas. 8 in. x 8 in. Private collection.

What is “The Sublime?”

The term actually goes back to 1st Century Rome. Longinus wrote about the sublime as a way to describe great, elevated, lofty thought or language, mainly in the context of rhetoric. The sublime is associated with awe and veneration. The Great Texts, such as Homer, and even Genesis, are full of the sublime. 18th Century philosophers rediscovered Longinus’ work and applied it to their theories on aesthetics.

The Grand Tour

In the 17th and 18th Centuries, young men in the wealthy upper class would embark on the “Grand Tour” of Europe, taking in all the sights of the high cultural touchpoints on the continent. It was a sort of pilgrimage for the elite, a precursor to modern tourism. As railroads developed, this sort of travel became affordable for more people, so British, German, and American philosophers, writers, and artists did the same tour. Even I did a version of this in 1999 when I was 20 years old, and I grew up in a middle-class American family.

On such a Grand Tour, the word “sublime” began to be used to describe aspects of the natural world such as the Matterhorn in the Swiss Alps, which became a theme for Romantic painters such as J. M. W. Turner. Or for describing the experience of seeing great architecture in Athens, Greece.

Reaction to the Enlightenment

Meanwhile, an aesthetic movement, Sturm und Drang (German for “storm and stress” or “storm and drive”) evolved from this same reaction against the Enlightenment, which was focused on logic, reason, and the intellect. The clash between the Enlightenment and the Romantic movements is an exemplary illustration of the Classic-Romantic split that Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance talks about. This movement grew into the Romantic movement, which later influenced the Vienna Secession, which influenced psychedelia.

(All the art movements are connected, either as a reaction to or continuation of earlier movements. It’s one big multigenerational conversation.)

When I study art history, I resonate most deeply with all the romantic movements far more than the analytical movements. Matters of the heart seem more real to me than matters of the head. I find more connection to the transcendental, the awful and the awe-inspiring.

Evanescent

There’s an exhibit at The Frist Art Museum here in Nashville right now that I really want to see, called J.M.W. Turner: Quest for the Sublime. (The museum is closed at the time of this writing due to COVID-19.) Turner’s quest for the sublime is the same Romantic pursuit of the dramatic power of nature, which shows our own impermanence and evanescence.

That’s the thing about the sublime: it’s abstract, and not-quite-there. It’s ever-changing, yet it’s always there. It’s permanent, yet fleeting. It’s this exquisite paradox, definitely liminal, in-between. This explains why I’ve been obsessed with fog for so long.

Some examples of the sublime that have moved me, personally.

Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog

Probably the most classic example of the Romantic movement in art is Caspar David Friedrich‘s painting Wanderer above the Sea of Fog, painted in 1817 or 1818. It’s typical of the 19th century Romantic artists who created epic nature scenes as an expression of the sublime. It’s both awe-inspiring and terrifying. There’s a sense of mastery over nature, yet there’s a sense that we will never master nature.

The fact that we don’t see the wanderer’s face puts us in his shoes: is he terrified at what’s before him? Or is he smiling in satisfaction at mastering the ascent? If he has mastered the ascent, has he discovered more difficult challenges? What’s hidden in the fog? I think the fog is symbolic and he is searching for clarity. Will he ever get the answers he is seeking? Did he make it this far only to find there is no answer? Which, I think, sets the tone for the modern era perfectly, especially this was painted right at the beginning of the Industrial Age.

Caspar David Friedrich, c. 1818. Wanderer above the Sea of Fog, oil on canvas. 94.8 cm × 74.8 cm (37.3 in × 29.4 in), Kunsthalle Hamburg

The hiker stands as a back figure in the center of the composition. He looks down on an almost impenetrable sea of ​​fog in the midst of a rocky landscape – a metaphor for life as an ominous journey into the unknown.

Wikipedia

High Hopes

Pink Floyd’s 1994 song “High Hopes” and its accompanying video and Division Bell album cover art by Storm Thorgerson get me every time. David Gilmour’s lyrics reference former band members Syd Barrett and Roger Waters. It looks back fondly at their days growing up and starting the band, back when “the grass was greener,” but mourns when the seeds of division were planted early on.

The part that gets me the most is the solo/bridge before the final chorus, which for me evokes wistfulness and youthful optimism, characterized by a soaring cry which is tempered by a crash back to reality. The video captures this same mood with the banners rising and falling in the air, and young people around a campfire, dancing in “the dawn mist, glowing.” In a way, despite all their disagreements and troubles, some part of them will always be in that optimistic, youthful pursuit of the sublime, traveling the “endless river.”

The guitar solo from Stairway to Heaven

I know, “Stairway to Heaven” is kind of a cliche. It’s a song people love to hate. It’s overplayed. But it’s not without its merits, the way it builds from a folk song to a heavy metal song, culminating in a signature-changing solo before the final verse. It’s that solo that I love. It seems to express something otherworldly and more real than real, much like the songs themes of a mystical underlying reality.

The paintings of Magdalena Morey

I discovered Magdalena Morey on Instagram a few years ago, and her paintings do an excellent job of expressing the landscape in a way that elevates it beyond what you see with your eyes. It’s kind of how I want to paint “when I grow up.” There’s a high vantage point, and you feel inexorably pulled to the horizon, like there’s something just beyond your reach.

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“Rose Tinted Memories” 60 x 60cm. Oils, pastels and gold leaf. This piece is based on a much loved photo taken at the place where I grew up in Poland. With everything going on at the moment nostalgia is rearing its head in unstoppable waves. I find myself getting lost in memories from my younger years as I think about my family and friends scattered across the world. Please get in touch if you’d like more info about this piece. . . . . . . . . . #stayathome #yomequedoencasa #staythefuckhome #staypositive #oilpainting #oiloncanvas #oilpaintings #contemporarypainting #contemporaryartist #nostalgia #sunsetpainting #sunset #inspiredbynature #fineartist #magdalenamorey #loveart #artcollectors #collectart #buyart #buyartonline #onlineartgallery #mixedmediaart #mixedmedia #goldleaf #polishartist #dailyart #artbuyers #artistacontemporanea #artwatchers #artecontemporaneo

A post shared by Magdalena Morey (@magdalena.morey.artist) on Apr 6, 2020 at 11:51am PDT

Split by Kenneth Noland

I wrote about this as a painting that had a profound impact on me when I was about 23 years old. It’s unsettling because nothing is centered. That square almost touches the circle in an uncomfortable tangent. I don’t know if Noland meant for it to be off-kilter. I have a feeling that’s intentional, because it’s so unsettling. When I look at it, I feel like the delicate balance of the universe has been bumped, and everything will collapse any moment now. Which I think captures the mood of the Cold War era. And it applies today during the COVID-19 pandemic. Yet with anxiety lurking in the background, there’s a hint that alignment is possible. We just haven’t gotten there yet. It is just beyond our reach. We are in that liminal, in-between space, and that is sublime.

Kenneth Noland, “Split.” 1959. Acrylic on canvas, 94 x 94 inches.

The beauty is in the pursuit. It’s not something you capture.

The beauty of the sublime is that it is ephemeral. I don’t think we’re supposed to grasp it. It can’t be grasped. But pursuing it is beautiful. The value is in the journey, not in arriving at the destination.

“Cold Dawn.” Acrylic on canvas, 8 x 8 inches. In situ.

The post Art and My Obsession with the Sublime appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

But why is that? I think it has to do with composition, emotional connection, recognizability, and complexity.

Powerful art has a strong sense of composition.

When art uses the rules of composition it comes off as very powerful. Especially when it uses one of the classic compositions with triangles and strong lines. What comes to mind for me is Jaques-Louis David’s “The Oath of the Horatii.” It’s a brilliant combination of static and dynamic composition. The columns in the background form a static rhythm in a rather theatrical space. I feel it would be easy enough for a stage crew to recreate this. The angles of the arms create a triangular form with the focal point close to the center of the canvas. I could keep going, but there are lots of triangles, which are inherently dynamic.

Jacques-Louis David, 1784. Le Serment des Horaces (The Oath of the Horatii), oil on canvas. 329.8 cm × 424.8 cm (129.8 in × 167.2 in). Louvre, Paris. Source, public domain

Schematic showing compositional lines:

The most powerful art elicits an emotional connection.

I’ve talked about this in greater detail elsewhere, but is worth reiterating: art that offers an emotional connection is more memorable. It could be a positive emotional connection, or a negative connection. It doesn’t matter.

If art does something to the viewer, if it moves the viewer at all, it’s succeeded, especially in art created since roughly 1880. Any sort of emotional connection is sufficient, just like the saying that there’s no such thing as bad publicity.

Powerful art can be boiled down to its essence and still be recognizable.

Real quick, sketch a doodle of Leonardo da Vinci’s “Mona Lisa.” You have 30 seconds.

I bet you drew a lady in three-quarter view from the elbows up with her hands crossed over her lap and a slight smirk on her face. If you’ve spent time studying it, you probably included the landscape behind her, or the delicate circlet on her forehead.

But the overall details are sufficient. The simplest version still tells you exactly what it is.

If you can do a napkin sketch of a famous artwork and people recognize it no matter how rough your doodle is, the original artwork is iconic enough at the most basic level. It succeeds at its simplest, lowest common denominator. This recognizability makes it memorable.

It’s a hard thing to pin down and predict, but once you know it, you know it.

Yet complexity keeps you interested.

One of my painting professors in college told me: “Complexity creates interest.” I’ve always tended toward simplicity, perhaps out of laziness. But Mr. Robinson was correct: those little details don’t let your eye go so fast. They give you something to look at. I mentioned “Mona Lisa” a moment ago. There are all kinds of details in the background, to the extent that thriller novels get written about arcane details in da Vinci paintings that are clues to unraveling some fantastic mystery.

Powerful art is complex enough that you don’t get bored looking at it. There’s enough detail to keep your eye interested and coming back to it.

Belly of the Beast, 2017. acrylic on canvas, 8 in. × 8 inches

Composition, emotional connection, recognizability, and complexity.

These are the things that make a work of art memorable and powerful. I try to include at least two of those in my paintings. Sometimes I succeed, sometimes I don’t. I always keep trying.

What’s an artwork that has been particularly memorable for you?

The post The Most Powerful Art is the Most Memorable appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

Knowing the rules and tricks of composition can only take you so far

You can learn all the rules of composition to make powerful artwork. I understand focal points and color schemes and can line everything on a grid based on the Golden Section. But I’ve found that the art that sticks with me the most comes from the heart. I can admire paintings that use perfect perspective and color, but if there’s no soul, the painting won’t stay with me. You can use the brain all you want, but the best art comes from the heart.

Unless art has soul and energy, it will be cold and sterile and void of connection with its viewer. I realize this might be a romanticized view of art. But I wager that even the most “documentary” of approaches comes from a place of love and caring: the artist is seeking understanding.

Style without content is dead

This is something I realized in art school. If art looks cool and has no depth to it, it’s lifeless and dull. You can paint something that is all style without depth. There’s no heart. This isn’t to say that all art has to be deep, but it has to have something to it. Sometimes the simple expressions are the best.

Have you heard the term “drugstore cowboy“? It’s somebody who is trying to dress like a cowboy without actually having any experience being a cowboy. Real cowboys wear certain clothes for their function, not for their looks. Sure, they might lean toward a certain color or texture out of personal preference, but more often than not their look is based on practicality.

Likewise, some art is technically excellent, but when it’s all style and no substance, it’s boring and forgettable.

Zen and the art of caring

In college I read Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance one Christmas Break. It’s one of those books that I come back to every few years. The main premise is about the two main views of the world: the Classic and the Romantic. (I did a painting about this Classic-Romantic Split.)

One thing that stood out for me was a passage about caring. It taught me that when someone truly cares about their work and who they are doing it for, it shows, whether they are an artist, or a designer, or a writer, or a mechanic.

“Care and Quality are internal and external aspects of the same thing. A person who sees Quality and feels it as he works is a person who cares. A person who cares about what he sees and does is a person who’s bound to have some characteristic of quality.”

Robert M. Pirsig, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry Into Values

The artist who cares about their work cares about their viewer and does the best they can out of love for the viewer.

The most profound art comes from a solid belief in something

Art that is presented where it is clear that the artist started, lost interest, and gave up, leaves you feeling “meh.” The artist didn’t believe in the work enough to finish. Which tells me the artist doesn’t believe in themselves.

Yes, some of the world’s greatest art has come from a place of self-doubt, but that self-doubt exists because some amount of self-love exists. The artist knows something of love and is reaching out for it. There may be despair, but there’s not That makes an emotional connection.

Not all emotional connections are happy

Sometimes the emotional connection is one of anger, or hurt, or injustice, or disappointment. People will connect to that. And I think it’s because there is a certain childlike idealism in all of us that constantly yearns for truth and justice. Some of us have just gotten better at denying it. It seems to me that authenticity on the part of both the viewer and the audience is of utmost importance.

A lesson from a mime: touch the audience

If a piece of art moves you, it will stick with you. The French mime Marcel Marceau, aka Bip the Clown, said, “il fault toucher le publique” (we need to be able to move the audience).

The post The Best Art Makes an Emotional Connection appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

If you’re lucky enough to still have a job, you’re frantically working on your laptop all day during the workweek, keeping one eye on the news. Weekends are depressing because you can’t go anywhere. You’re confined to your house. No going to the movies, no meeting friends for dinner or drinks. You don’t have the energy to read a book, and you’ve watched everything on Netflix. You finally found the mythical end of Instagram, and you just spent five hours watching crazy TikTok dances.

So you scroll Facebook, bored.

In that boredom amidst the memes and political arguments is an artist trying to calm himself down by putting paint on canvas.

I am that artist. Like you, I’m bored and scared, too.

That’s why I’m trying to brighten things up by inviting you into the studio for a while. Not to forget our cares, but to honor them, and to come to a sense of peace about what’s going on in the world.

When the COVID-19 pandemic hit, I was sad, anxious, and scared.

Like a lot of people, I initially made a mental list of projects to work on, books to read, and so forth. My wife and I figured if we were going to be at home for two weeks (ha – it’ll be 6 weeks tomorrow!) we might as well tackle some of those projects we’ve been putting off for ages (nope, still haven’t done them), so we went to the hardware store to stock up on supplies.

The week before the lockdown was Spring Break, and since we didn’t have vacation plans, we had already stocked up on books for the kids to read. And the week before that, Nashville was hit by a severe tornado.

So everything was upside-down.

But after a few days of trying to adjust to the “new normal” of all five of us being at home 24/7, we got into a rhythm. We had our workspaces set up. We ordered new Kindles for the kids. We exercised every morning. We tried to deal with the weirdness of the whole experience by quickly setting some normal patterns.

Then my part-time graphic design job had to let me go since the economy tanked in a matter of weeks.

I was not prepared for the trauma that would come with all this.

I allowed myself to grieve.

But I numbed myself a bit by staying up too late watching Netflix and then sleeping in. My sleep cycle got messed up. (It is still messed up.)

I found my anxiety growing. When I get anxious, I work myself in to a frenzy and do lots of things without getting anything finished. Lots of puttering around and wondering what I actually did that day. I found myself getting depressed.

Finally, I got in the studio. I had been making a little bit of an effort to paint more, but I’ve now fallen into a rhythm of getting in the studio at least once a week. Saturday night seems to be when most people are online. They are bored, sad, and anxious.

Making art regularly helps me slow down and breathe.

When I paint, I tend to be frenetic, but I get the best results when I slow down. There’s a certain effect I like to achieve when I use the palette knife (or painting knife – I use the terms interchangeably) but it doesn’t work unless I slow down.

So when I drag paint onto the canvas with the knife, I stop and take a deep breath. As I exhale, I slowly drag the knife across the canvas. The paint rewards me by going on exactly how I want it to.

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I’m building off a painting I started last week, creating depth and adding more layers. It’s starting to get really interesting now, and I’m having a lot of fun in the process.

A post shared by Brad Blackman (@bradblackman) on Apr 26, 2020 at 8:30pm PDT

My audience calms down, too.

I suppose my mood is contagious. It makes sense: if I appear on screen all jacked up, it will spread to my audience and I’ll stress them out. If I’m calm, and bring a message of hope, whether through my words or my painting, it’ll calm down my audience, too.

I’m not Bob Ross, but as I paint live, I find myself coming around to some of the same hopeful themes he expressed on his show.

Nine times out of ten, the things I say are the things I need to hear, myself:

• “You can’t appreciate the bright spots without the dark spots. The dark areas make the bright areas stand out more. Paint the bright areas on top of the dark areas and it’s more dramatic, more rewarding.”
• “Slow down and breathe. Slow is smooth, and smooth is fast.”
• “Colors don’t exist in isolation. Every color is affected by the colors around it. Everything is affected by everything else.”
• “I have to work all the way around the canvas, instead of only on one thing. I can’t get too focused on one spot and overdevelop it.”

In the process, I find hope.

Sometimes that hope gets buried. But it’s been in me all along. Often, I can’t see it, but it’s there. I just have to look for it. Sometimes I’ll go after it directly, or I take a lateral drift approach to find it. Hope always shows up. It’s there. Hope may be loud, or it may be quiet. But when I find it, it’s my job to share it. A sacred duty, as it were.

The post Finding Hope in a Frightening Pandemic by Making Art appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

As you may know, my part-time graphic design job with a coffee shop franchise had to let me go because they didn’t have cash coming in — they had to close dining rooms due to safer-at-home measures. Cash is oxygen for a business. Families, too!

A few weeks ago when this whole situation began I started seeing these red squares on Instagram, with #artistsupportpledge on them. I saw something about £200 which doesn’t mean much to me since I’m American, so I kind of ignored it for a while.

But I have seen it a few more times since, and realized that the way this works is for every $1,000 an artist makes, they turn around and spend $200 on another artist’s work. And they price their own work at $200.

The point is to sell small works at a low price point and turn around and buy other artist’s work in the same fashion.

That way we can all support each other. It’s a win for everybody. People buying art win because it’s inexpensive artwork, and artists win because it’s a sale, and other artists win because it’s a sale for them, too. I don’t believe in artists competing with each other, so let’s all help each other out.

So, I am committing to the Artist Support Pledge now.

For the foreseeable future, I am committing to selling $200 artworks, and for every $1,000 I make, I am going to buy a $200 piece of art. I would love to build a really cool collection of other artist’s art in my home! (I have plenty of my own art! ) Just check out my Instagram.

This crisis is the perfect time to practice generosity.

When things aren’t going perfectly is the perfect time to practice generosity. It takes the focus off yourself and puts it on those around you. It’s not that you have it better than somebody else, because we are all suffering. It’s about helping your fellow artists (and ultimately, your fellow humans.)

Let generosity be infectious.

If you want to know more about the pledge, visit the FAQ page on Matthew Burrow’s site.

View this post on Instagram

This is the HOW TO guide to participate in ARTIST SUPPORT PLEDGE anyone anywhere in the world can take part. 1. post your image/s on your Instagram account 2. If possible use the ARTIST SUPPORT PLEDGE logo and text (swipe to see) by reposting or using a screenshot. You can also cut and paste from my website (see link in bio). 3. give details of the work and price (no more than 200USD, 200GDP, 200 EURO or 20000JPY) 4. ask for anyone interested to DM you 5. add #artistsupportpledge NB/ we Do not select work to be seen. You may not see your own work as there are so many images but others are seeing them. 6. follow the # 7. when you have sold $1000 worth of work fulfil the pledge and spend $200 on another artist/s work. 8. If in doubt do it in a spirit of generosity, that’s all that matters A creative generosity creates a generous creativity 9. Stay connected for more opportunities by following @artistsupportpledge Due to the COVID-19 pandemic, many artists around the world have found themselves without work, teaching, technical support, gallery work, exhibitions and sales have disappeared. In an attempt to help alleviate some of this stress @matthewburrowsstudio has instigated the #artistsupportpledge The concept is a simple one. You post images of your work to sell for no more than $200 (£200, €200, ¥20000) each (not including shipping.) Anyone can then buy the work. Every time you reach $1000 of sales you pledge to buy another artist’s work for $200. So make a pledge and post your work with the #artistsupportpledge and follow the #. keep updated on news and further opportunities @artistsupportpledge Repost and tell your friends, colleagues and collectors. Stay well and live generously. #supportartists #covid19 #coronavirus #livegenerously #artistsupportpledge artistsupportpledge

A post shared by Artist Support Pledge (@artistsupportpledge) on Apr 19, 2020 at 2:48am PDT

The post My Commitment to the Artist Support Pledge appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

Initially, I thought I might get some stuff done during quarantine: projects around the house, read some books, start some paintings, get the kids to do some research projects, that sort of thing.

But I haven’t been as “productive” as I expected. I was a little disappointed for a minute. I realized this situation is more emotionally taxing than just “staying home.” You might have discovered the same. It’s hard to stay productive in quarantine.

I’ve found that if I brush my teeth and wash my face and make sure my kids have done the same, we’re doing ok.

Our family has a helpful morning routine that keeps us feeling at least somewhat productive during this strange season. I talk about it in this video:

Stay well, stay home, stop the spread. Go easy on yourself.

The post Staying Productive in a Crisis with a Morning Ritual appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

Vincent van Gogh, “Wheatfield with Crows,” 1890. 50.2 cm × 103 cm (19.9 in × 40.6 in). Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam

I learned that it was one of van Gogh’s last paintings, if not THE last painting he made. (Some say it is his “suicide note” written in paint.) Maybe it was this knowledge that moved me so much, since he died from a self-inflicted gunshot wound in the same field where he painted this.

I could see the heaviness on his heart.

The weariness.

The oppressive sky pushing down on the wheat.

The crows are harbingers of doom or death.

When the sky holds you down, you can’t move. You’re trapped. I’ve never felt this weighed down by life, but I can relate to it.

I felt suffocated, and I wept.

(Another painting that moved me is Kenneth Noland’s “Split”.)

The post This Painting Crushed Me And Brought Me To Tears appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

A big part of what makes painting abstracts so thrilling for me is that it helps me understand and tap into the language beneath the language we all know. It’s a complex, wordless language that goes deep into our collective subconscious. Yes, it’s kind of mystical and Jungian. And I’m fine with that.

It’s challenging for me because I have to break past the layer of the more or less “literal” way of thinking that I grew up with.

In that sense, abstraction is a “pure” form of art unencumbered by the language of realism.

100 Days of Abstracts, Day 30, acrylic on canvas

The language of realism tells you “this is a tree” or “this is a person.” Abstraction allows you to hint at those things, or do away with them entirely, favoring composition over referencing real things. (This is called nonobjective abstraction. DeStijl pioneer Piet Mondrian was a master of this sort of abstraction.)

In the past few years I have grown more obsessed with the color field paintings of Mark Rothko. I have yet to see one of his works in person, but I hear they are deeply moving. There’s something about a large canvas flooded with subtle variations of a single color that stir something deep in your soul.

Since so many of us in the West grow up looking at art from an objective point of view, it is sometimes difficult to understand abstract painting since it doesn’t fit your frame of reference. To that, I say to think of it like music. Look for texture, rhythm, loud and quiet. Music rarely references things in the real world. Painting doesn’t have to, either.

By painting in an abstract manner I am able to explore my emotions and find answers to those wordless questions deep in my soul. The more primal a piece of art is, whether it’s music or painting, the more it resonates with our core.

Realism tends to be obvious in its interpretation

Hoth, acrylic on canvas

Sometimes a realistic painting is just a painting of whatever you see, nothing more. Other times, the artist adds symbols with personal meaning, or the subject matter is intended to inspire the viewer to consider a certain worldview. (Brian Rutenberg would argue that all paintings force the viewer to look at the world differently, if only for a second.)

Of course, some surrealists have fun with objective visual language, especially when their paintings are realistically rendered but full of double meanings and visual tricks on our our perception of space. Painters like Salvador Dali, Rene Magritte, and Donny Smutz come to mind.

Abstract painting invites the viewer to participate and interpret

Silver Lining, acrylic on canvas, 20 x 20 x 1.5 inches

I love hearing all the things people say they see in my abstract paintings. Most of the time I have a landscape in mind. Personally, I often see clouds and a horizon, littered with landforms and foliage.

But lots of people tell me they see something else, and it’s amazing. It’s a lot like looking at clouds with a friend: sometimes you see something whimsical, and sometimes you see something profound that changes your life. And your friend sees something else entirely.

All paintings are abstract in some way.

Bob Burridge says that under every great painting is a great abstract painting. The rules of composition apply to abstract painting as representational painting, perhaps more so since that provides a frame of reference.

Sometimes abstraction looks like an unfinished painting that invites the viewer to invent their own story. And that’s what I find thrilling.

The post What Makes Painting Abstracts So Thrilling? appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

This isn’t art-related, but since it is December, I thought I’d share this family tradition we have. When I was growing up, my dad would make boiled custard using a recipe passed down from my great-grandmother. (I’m not sure why my dad made it since it came from my mom’s side of the family.) He still makes it even now. I think he finds the slow stirring process relaxing.

Here’s the recipe:

Mama Sadie’s Boiled Custard

Sadie Billingsley     

1 quart milk

1 scant cup sugar

3 whole eggs

1 tsp vanilla

Beat eggs really well

Add sugar

While beating eggs, begin warming milk in double boiler

When eggs and sugar are well-beaten, slowly add part of warm milk to egg mixture. Then add eggs/milk to larger pot of warm milk.

Stir continuously until it coats spoon (at least 30 minutes)

Add vanilla

Cool

The secret of having smooth custard is in the thorough beating of eggs and sugar.

To cook 1/2 gallon, put 1/2 inch water in big skillet. Put custard mixture in Dutch oven or other large pan set down in the water (this makes a large “double-boiler”). Keep water just below boiling point.

(Mama Sadie always made custard at Christmas, sometimes 2 or 3 batches. She always put some in refrigerator trays to almost freeze, then she would stir it until it was smooth again.  Following one of these occasions, Duke uttered the phrase, familiar to us all: “Mama Sadie, you should have chirred it some more!”)

We make this on a cold evening, then set the sauce pan out on the back porch to cool over night.

So that’s my family’s boiled custard recipe!

What holiday traditions or foods does your family like to do?

The post Family Christmas Traditions: A Recipe for Boiled Custard appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

But first, a little color theory! Here’s how complementary color works.

Basically, complementary colors are opposite each other on the color wheel. Think of classic Christmas colors like the rich red of poinsettias and the deep green of evergreen trees. They look nice with each other, right? That’s because they are complementary to each other on the color wheel.

But if they are too similar in value (lightness/darkness) or saturation (intensity), they clash and “vibrate.”

“This initially exciting effect also feels aggressive and often even uncomfortable to our eyes. One finds it rarely used except for a screaming effect in advertising, and as a result it is unpleasant, disliked, and avoided.”

Josef Albers, Interaction of Color

So I use that effect sparingly, since I want to create a sense of peace and calm in my artwork. Clashing complementary colors don’t create a calming color scheme.

Now for more color theory: analogous color.

This is when the colors used are next to each other on the color wheel. Since there’s no wild variation to distract you, the effect is calming. This chart from Elle Decor does a great job illustrating various analogous color schemes:

An analogous color scheme is usually more calming than a complementary color scheme, since the colors are related to each other.

However, to really go for a calming color scheme, I have to dial the contrast down a lot.

My approach lately: nearly monochromatic with a hint of complementary color or a surprise color

It’s been my approach lately to work in neutrals and add something bright or metallic to it. I think it works well. The neutral colors are naturally calming, especially with soft transitions and subtle contrast. The bright or metallic colors break the monotony and offer a nice surprise. This shows that a little color goes a long way.

Brad Blackman, “Hope” acrylic and gold leaf on canvas. 30 × 24 inches

Brad Blackman, “In Sun and Snow” acrylic on canvas. 10 × 10 inches

And sometimes, I break out the intense color, and it is calming yet energetic at the same time.

Since I love color so much, sometimes I crank up the saturation. While the colors are intense and somewhat complementary, the effect is an overall calm color scheme since the transitions are subtle.

Brad Blackman, “First Light” acrylic on canvas. 8 × 8 inches

The post Behind the Scenes: How I Choose Calming Color Schemes appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

Note: This is a guest post from Suzie Wilson, an interior designer who blogs at Happier Home. Let’s give her a warm welcome!

Image via Pixabay

The holidays are a time when families exchange gifts. Although many people are quick to buy something pre-made from the nearest big-box retailer, others opt to put their creativity to work by making unique presents for their loved ones. If you’re eager to break away from purchasing the latest trendy gift and create something your friends and family will never forget, then you need to put together a plan and gather your supplies — and you can do this on a budget! Below, we’ve gathered some important resources that will help you make this holiday season memorable and affordable.

Shopping and Saving Tips

15 Super Places to Buy Art and Craft Supplies Online

Use eBay Coupons for Online Purchase to Double the Savings

9 Places to Get Cheap Craft Supplies

Find Local Art Supplies & Craft Stores

The 14 Best Places to Buy Craft Supplies Online

Crafting Supplies

Craft Supply Checklist

Versatile Crafting Supplies for Multiple Crafts

The 16 Tools Every Crafter Must Have

30 Things Crafty People Have in Their Homes

Creative Zone Tips

10 Best Craft Blogs for Tutorials, Tips, and Daily Inspiration

Getting Started with Art and Crafts

25 Cute and Simple Christmas Crafts for Everyone

40+ Christmas Crafts That Double as an Activity and Decorations

25 Hanukkah (Chanukah) Crafts – The Festival of Lights

Creating something memorable instead of rushing to the nearest store or online retailer might take a bit more time, but the end result will be totally worthwhile. So, start brainstorming and put your creative skills to work — before you know it, you’ll have a one-of-a-kind gift that fits neatly into your holiday budget.

The post Stay Festive and Frugal with These Holiday Crafting Resources appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

This time last year, I announced that I was painting 40 paintings in 40 days.

An assortment of Brad Blackman’s 40 Days of Abstracts series, standing on a white background in the studio

It was a fun project to paint 40 paintings in the 40 days leading up to my 40th birthday. And I completed all 40 paintings on time! I learned a lot about myself, showing up every day. It was a successful project. But I was exhausted! Something I quickly forgot about, five months later.

So in April 2019, I decided to participate in the 100 Day Project

The 100 Day Project is simple, just like Art Every Day Month or Inktober: you make art every day for a certain period of time. These challenges are great for getting out of a creative rut, or for making yourself do something consistent.

I discovered a few years ago that one of the best ways to do a daily artwork challenge is to have a specific theme and a small size.

I think that’s why Inktober has enjoyed such popularity and success. You end up with 31 pieces of the same medium and probably the same size. Since there is a list of prompts, you don’t have to come up with the idea for each one. The social media hashtag allows you to see how others respond to the prompts, which is fun.

But with trying to ramp up a freelance graphic design business, I ran out of energy and time to dedicate to the 100 Day Project. I got behind and resorted to my trick of attaching several canvases together to create a larger scene, thus knocking out several small paintings at once.

Days 34-42 of the 2019 100 Day Project

That was when I realized I missed painting on big canvases. Switching from a four-inch square to a twelve-inch square was exciting. I remembered how this used to be tiny. Once upon a time, I didn’t paint much of anything smaller than twice this size!

I like to paint big

I want to move when I paint.

I want to feel something when I paint.

I want to paint on giant canvases like Robert Motherwell.

Move the paint around with a broom or something.

I want to surprise people when they walk into a room with one of my paintings, and they see this huge canvas that touches their core.

The sheer number was overwhelming

Since my style is abstract, the best abstract paintings come from the heart with a very loose plan, so it’s hard to go with prompts. Abstracts are best when improvised and then adjusted to fit concepts of design and color theory. And trying to plan a hundred paintings when your best way of painting involves minimal planning is hard.

The next time I do a challenge, I’m likely to do something else

Next time, I’ll probably just make a point to simply show up in the studio each day at a certain time. Maybe I’ll go live on Facebook or something. (Would you tune in to that? Let me know in the comments.) I want to take the pressure off myself to produce a finished product each day. It’s enough to show up in the studio daily.

The funny thing is, I’ve said this before. I made my daily painting project just about painting every day and not completing something every day. Life keeps teaching me the same lessons over and over again!

What’s a lesson you’ve had to learn several times?

I imagine you’ve had to re-learn a few lessons along the way. What’s something you’ve had to learn more than once?

The post Why I Quit the 100 Day Project appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

Where do you start? What if you don’t know anything about art, just that you want your space to be more attractive and represent what you want to be? What if you’re just tired of having blank walls or generic furniture, or handed-down artwork you don’t care about?

You know beautiful art is out there. On the walls of someone’s apartment on TV, in restaurants, or on someone’s Instagram profile. You say, “How can I get me some of that?” You walk into a gallery, or pull up an artist’s online shop, and you’re overwhelmed.

Just like all nice things in life, getting into art can be a little intimidating.

Many “unnecessary” things in life are considered luxuries. Especially “gourmet” foods. Luxury doesn’t always have to equal outrageously expensive, either. Gourmet coffee or gourmet donuts cost more than their “everyday” counterparts, but the average person can still enjoy them.

Since art isn’t necessary for daily survival like food or water, it’s considered a luxury, but I would argue that it’s important to our humanity. Art says something about who we are and where we are going. Humans are about much more than survival. We take the time to enjoy things we don’t necessarily “need.”

My own “luxury” experience

Speaking of coffee, I’ve become a little bit of a coffee snob. It has been a bit of an educational journey! At first, it was a bit overwhelming. There are so many types of coffees and ways to brew it.

Likewise, getting initiated in buying art can be a little intimidating. I’ve put together a list of some of the things that scare people about buying art, and what to do about them.

“I know nothing about art!”

A lot of people are intimidated by the art world because they don’t know how to talk about art. They lack the vocabulary or language. They’re afraid they will look dumb. Or they think modern or postmodern art is too complicated and exclusive and they aren’t “in the know.”

If you want to talk about art, you just need to know a handful of terms about art to talk about it, such as form, color, and contrast. And it helps to understand the context in which it was made.

But if you want to buy art, you just have to know what you’re looking for. It can be as simple as having a blank wall of a certain size and you want to put something there. Or you want more of this color in your house.

Or you just had a transformative experience and you want a piece of art that reminds you how you came through it. Just having that information on hand can help you find what you want.

“Am I over-paying for it?”

Only if you don’t really want it. If you’re buying art just to impress someone else, you probably won’t enjoy owning it.

If money is a concern and you find a piece of art you have to have, you might be able to negotiate with an artist or a gallerist. Many artists accept payment in installments.

Or you can commission a smaller, less expensive version of a work you love. I have done commissions where I painted something similar to a previous painting in a different size or a slightly different color scheme.

“What will _____ think?”

A lot of people worry about what other people will think about their art purchase. “Will my spouse like it?” or “What will my friends say?” If you’re sharing your space with someone else like a spouse, it is worth getting their input since they will be seeing it, too.

That said, I feel like it’s ultimately a personal choice what art you purchase. It’s part of your self-expression.

“How do I take care of it?”

Paintings on canvas need to breathe, so storing them vertically by hanging them on a wall is ideal. You can periodically dust them lightly. I don’t make sculptures, but I imagine they need to be dusted frequently. Don’t be afraid to ask the artist or gallery you buy your art from. They’ll appreciate that you want to take care of it.

“Where am I going to put it?”

Sometimes you fall in love with a piece of artwork without having a place in mind for it. But isn’t that part of the adventure of buying art? If it moves you and you can pay for it, get it. You’ll figure out where to put it later. Alternatively, you can commission something similar in a different size, like I mentioned above.

“Rumble,” acrylic on canvas. 8 x 8 inches

“Is it a good investment?”

Some people buy art as an investment. Those people have lots of money to spend and advisors helping them decide what to buy based on a variety of factors, with the intention of reselling at a higher price later to make a profit.

But for most people, buying art is an investment in themselves. They want to say something about themselves to other people, or to remind themselves of something important. They buy it so they can tell their friends, “I bought this painting the year I had five different surgeries and it reminds me of the divine strength that sustained me.”

Conclusion

Buying art for the first time can be intimidating, but it can be a lot of fun. Remember that every piece of art has a story behind it, which adds tremendous value to your life. If you’ve got your heart set on buying some art, but you’re still nervous, don’t be. Decide what’s best for you, and make it something you’ll enjoy for years to come.

The post How to make buying art not so scary appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

Jump ahead to about the 57-second mark to see me tone the canvas orange.

This is called toning the canvas.

It establishes a base so sections of white gesso that smooths and protects the canvas don’t peek through. The tone can serve to unify colors somewhat. It’s generally a good idea to start with a middle value, so the artist can easily add darks and lights to build the composition. A lot of beginners start with stark white and can only make it darker. If you start with a middle tone, you can go darker or lighter.

Traditionally, painters start with a rich gray or brown tone, roughly halfway between the darkest and lightest colors. If I were painting more traditionally, I would begin my canvases with a wash of warm gray or burnt sienna. And what is brown but a dark orange?

I aim to create bright, vibrant canvases, so I use orange.

The warm tone creates excitement, energy, and warmth, regardless of the dominant color in the end. I think people sense that energy even if they never see the underpainting. Every now and then a little bit of the orange peeks through.

When I first started painting I used Cerulean Blue, which is a vibrant blue on the greener side of things. I’ve always liked toning my canvases with bright colors rather than neutrals. It makes the painting exciting for me. I think that carries over to my viewers.

I’m not the first person to tone with orange.

I actually picked up the orange technique from Robert Burridge. It’s how he was taught, actually. I wasn’t taught to tone the canvas any particular way. I discovered Bob a few years ago when I was trying to figure out how to bring more brightness and energy to my painting, and I think the orange underpainting does the job.

The post Why Toning My Canvases Orange is the First Thing I Do appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

Nashville, Summer, 2001

In Summer, 2001, the Frist Center for the Visual Arts (now called the Frist Art Museum) was new. My Granddaddy bought me an inaugural membership. One of the first exhibits was the Modernism and Abstraction exhibit, on loan from the Smithsonian American Art Museum. I saw so many incredible artworks by Georgia O’Keefe, Franz Klein, and more.

This exhibit made such a strong impression on me that I visited the show several times over the summer. I went so many times that if I had bought tickets, I would have paid more than the annual membership.

One painting stopped me dead in my tracks.

It was “Split” by Kenneth Noland.

Kenneth Noland, “Split.” 1959. Acrylic on canvas, 94 x 94 inches.

It is almost eight feet square. It has a purple, black, white, and red arrangement of a series of concentric circles, one square, and the outer circle has an irregular outer edge, on raw canvas. It was painted with acrylic, which was brand new at the time. See, oil paint, if applied directly to canvas, will slowly eat away at the fibers in a slow burn and destroy it. So it has to be protected with gesso before it gets painted. Acrylic paint doesn’t destroy raw canvas the way oil paint does. So Noland painted directly onto the canvas.

There was such immediacy, yet restraint, that it just knocked me over. It changed me.

I stood and stared at it for a long time.

What did it mean?

Why did it make me so uneasy?

Why does my eye keep going around it faster and faster?

I knew if a painting made me feel all these things, it had some sort of power behind it.

I think there’s something about the tangent where the right corner of the square/diamond shape almost touches the circle that encloses it. The colors almost harmonize, but there is just enough discord that it makes me uneasy. And of course, the circle is a powerful, profound symbol that touches something deep in our primal consciousness, a symbol of life, eternity, earth, the universe, time. The outer red edge is uneven and sloppy, like the circle is falling apart. The apparent order of the composition is at risk of imploding. The universe, for all its apparent order, is disintegrating.

That’s the power of (abstract) art. Something so deceptively simple can lead you to an existential crisis.

I went back and looked at the whole exhibit about five times over that summer.

That exhibit, and this painting in particular, showed me that abstraction was something worth paying attention to.

Since then, I have wanted to paint big all the time, with huge, powerful movements, on large canvases. And of course, my work has grown increasingly abstract over the years, yet still grounded in reality. I love painting big, and actually prefer it over the tiny canvases I have painted the past few years.

What’s an artwork that has had a profound effect on you?

What was your reaction to it? Sound off in the comments or drop me a note.

The post How One Painting Absolutely Devastated Me appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

The art movements of the early-to-mid-20th Century still have a lot to teach us. To be sure, the wider culture’s visual language has evolved since then, and contemporary art embraces the conceptual over all else these days, even if it is highly rendered (realistic). It’s less about style and more about social consciousness.

Brad Blackman, “Hope,” 2018. acrylic and gold leaf on canvas. 30 x 24 inches

Most of the art I see today features three P’s: Place, Politics, and Personality.

“Place” in Contemporary Art

Graffiti art has exploded the past few years, especially in Nashville (where I live.) What used to be a sign of gang activity is now a sign of commerce (and on the downside, gentrification). Bachelorettes line up to get their photo taken in front of giant wings. And it’s not just “graffiti.” Toronto has a famous “TORONTO” sculpture that tourists love to get on their instagram feeds. Incidentally, the “3D Toronto Sign” was a temporary installation, but it got so much attention on social media that it is now a semi-permanent feature of City Hall. (I believe there are plans to make a permanent version of the sculpture.)

By { pranav } from Hyderabad, India – Toronto sign, CC BY 2.0

Politics in Contemporary Art

Art has long had ties to politics, either in the service of or in opposition to the prevailing ruler. It can be propaganda, or it can state a specific view that may or may not be popular or “safe.” Brian Rutenberg argues that all art is political — even his abstract landscapes of South Carolina swamps.

The Cult of Personality in Contemporary Art

Again, this is nothing new, and perhaps less outsize than in the past, but in recent years I’ve seen artists exploit their strong personal brands on social media with the likes of Ashley Longshore, Joyce Pensato, KAWS, and more. Warhol and Dali set a precedent for this decades ago. “Personality” might better be thought of as a “personal brand” these days.

Conclusion

While my own art doesn’t blatantly possess these characteristics, I agree with Brian Rutenberg that all art is political by default since when a viewer looks at it, they are seeing from your eyes, even if for a moment. What I try to show is that the world, for all its brokenness, is a beautiful and hopeful place.

“I laugh when painters claim to make political painting because all painting is political. The very act of making a work of art is a political act. Whenever you see a play, or read a poem, or look at a picture in a gallery, you are submitting to and and investing in the entire political belief system of that artist. Art can only be political because the artist is subverting and undermining the way the viewer sees the world for a moment. So I think it’s kind of sad when younger painters are led to believe that painting has no real value in and of itself, that it’s only a delivery system for some other message, which sounds to me like propaganda, There’s a lot of clever, witty work being done out there, but we must never let semiotic wit replace dreaming.”

Brian Rutenberg, Studio Visit 58

The post 3 Surprisingly Powerful Factors That Make Up Contemporary Art appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

Now that I’m 40, there are a few things I’d like to say to myself 10 years ago.

So now your 20s are behind you. You worked hard, but I think you could have worked harder. You’re 30, still pretty new to being married, and you’re a brand new daddy. There’s whole new set of challenges ahead of you in this new decade. Unfortunately time travel is not possible, so you didn’t get the message I tried to send you when you were 20 and you won’t get this one, either. But if I could tell you something, here’s what I want you to do in your 30s, building on my last message to 20-year-old me.

1. Keep your marriage healthy and go out on dates as often as possible. Visit your marriage and family therapist as a couple as regularly as possible. Talk about child-rearing techniques. (Spoiler alert: in 10 years you’ll discover you’re both right. You just have to make it work, and keep each other in check.)
2. Learn about autism. You’ll have a son on the autism spectrum and you need to understand what it is. Read all the books. Go to all the lectures. Understand him. Be patient.
3. If you must get a credit card, pay it off as quickly as possible. Better yet, don’t get a credit card. Here’s where you regret not saving that 10% when you were in your 20s. And in 10 years you’ll wish you had saved for 20 years!
4. When work slows down at your job, it’s time start looking elsewhere. It’s usually a sign the company is having trouble filling the pipeline and your job is in jeopardy.
5. So build that side-hustle like it’s your job. Because it will sustain you when things grind to a halt at the day job and they have to let you go.
6. If a job feels like a bad match, it probably is. Trust your gut.
7. Upgrade to the best gear possible as soon as possible. I mentioned this to my 20-year-old self, and he wanted to hold on to his money. The point isn’t to get stuff because it’s new and shiny, but to stay ahead of the game. It’s not about the tool in itself, but having the most effective tool for the job. It’s worth the investment. Keep the software and hardware current, buy paints, brushes, canvas, cameras.
8. Upgrade your hearing aids sooner. Don’t wait until they are so old they can’t be repaired anymore.
9. Ignore Sunk Costs. It’s scary to walk away from what you’ve spent years on but resist moving on from, such as a house or a job, but it will hurt more if you don’t.
10. Get an iPhone as quickly as possible. They’re expensive and aren’t on your network yet (Verizon), but you’ll need it at least as soon as Instagram comes out, so you can start sharing your work there. Besides, you’ll need to test mobile websites.
11. Price is positioning. You want people to take your work seriously. Price your art high enough to pay for itself and to buy more supplies. Make the work pay for itself and then make it pay you.
12. Fix up your house as much as you can afford it, as soon as you can. It’ll make selling easier and you’ll enjoy the house more. Nobody wants to live in a dump!
13. Listen to the voice telling you to make art. God put that craving in your heart for a reason. Make art and share it. Get in the studio daily even if the work isn’t great. Share the art and build that email list!
14. Take a vacation once in a while. Don’t wait 8 or 9 years to go to the beach.
15. Make some friends. This is really hard in your 30s. I’m 40 now and don’t really have close friends, and I wish I did. I have lots of acquaintances, though.

I sure hope 30-year-old Brad would take this to heart more than 20-year-old Brad.

If you’re in your 40s or 50s or older, what would you say to yourself at 30 or even 40?

The post Advice for My 30-Year-Old Self appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

By the way, if you would rather not read this whole thing, just jump down to the bottom of the page where you’ll find a video version of this post that highlights four main pieces of advice I’d give myself.

It all started with a Facebook discussion about Teflon in cookware.

A friend shared an article about the harmful effects of Teflon in cookware, and I lamented that I would love to go back about 12 years to when my wife and I made our wedding registry and tell myself to get something different. We are gradually replacing the Teflon-coated cookware with stainless, piece by piece.

But, I wondered, what else I would tell myself if I could go back in time?

I’m forty now. What if I went back twenty years to when I was twenty years old?

In the spring of 1999, I spent a semester in Italy. I had the time of my life, and I can’t wait to go back — and take my family with me.

I realize if I were to visit myself 20 years ago, I probably wouldn’t listen to somebody twice my age! At 20, you still have something of a teenage mindset and think everyone over the age of 30 is uncool and out of touch.

That said, if I could go back 20 years to talk to 20-year-old Brad, here’s what I’d tell him, and I hope that he would listen.

Take care of your physical health now!

When you’re 20 years old you think you’re going to live forever. But trust me, start an exercise regimen now. You’re about to spend most of your waking hours sitting at a computer and it’ll mess up your back. In 20 years you’ll be doing yoga to help everything stay limber.

Eat low salt, low fat, and low sugar. That’s kind of hard to do when you’re in Italy, and you get enough exercise walking everywhere that it doesn’t matter right now. But when you get back home, you might even try eating vegetarian for a while. In a couple of years they’re going to merge Palm Pilots and cellphones into something called a smartphone, and we will have fancy watches that talk to our smartphones and we’ll be able to track what we eat and how many steps we take. Yes, it’s weird. We will probably look back and laugh at how we would try to get the last 500 of our 10,000 steps for the day before midnight by pacing in our living rooms. But it’s surprisingly effective.

Take care of your ears. Don’t go swimming in a red tide. The telltale sign is dead stuff washed up on the beach. You’ll regret that.

A strong body is no good without mental and emotional well-being.

You’re having the time of your life there in Italy right now, but I know how incredibly lonely you are. Right now this doesn’t make any sense. How can you feel alone while hanging out with 50 other people in this amazing 500-year-old villa situated outside Florence, Italy?

You’re what’s called an introvert. Being an introvert means you recharge by getting alone time. Get a gelato or a cappuccino and sit in a piazza by yourself and journal or draw, not with the intention of impressing anybody. Just get it out. Then, find a friend you can trust, and “hey man, I need a pick-me-up right now.” It took me years to understand how important it is to be vulnerable.

When you get back to the states, you’ll fall back into the trap of looking at porn online. It’s going to get even easier to get to. Get help for that now. It will escalate and won’t go away on its own. Don’t let it fester for the next 10-15 years. It’ll hurt your marriage down the road. Just trust me on this. This is something I wish I had tackled sooner. 

See a therapist. You probably have OCD, SAD, bipolar disorder, mild depression, mild anxiety, or some combination of those. This is something else I should have addressed 10-15 years ago. The stigma of seeing a therapist is about to go away.

Stop stressing about girls, but don’t waste time with the wrong ones.

You’ll date a lot. You’ll be convinced that one girl in particular is “The One.” She’s great, but her parents rub you the wrong way, to put it mildly, so eventually you break it off. It is painful. But after that, you’ll find your wife. The saying about marrying your in-laws is true. So if you don’t like a girl’s parents, don’t date her. Thankfully you’ll figure this out on your own, before making a big mistake like marrying into the wrong family. I’m happy to report that will like your in-laws.

But don’t get married in December. My wife and I both wish we had gotten married at a different time of year. We had a Christmas wedding. Christmas weddings are pretty, but December will be mega-busy for the rest of your life now and it is hard to find a chance to celebrate your anniversary the week of Christmas. When you skip the family Christmas get-together it pisses people off. Fortunately, you’re not a people-pleaser.

So don’t worry about pissing people off. You’ll be miserable if you try to make everybody happy.

Learn how to manage your money

Find out who Dave Ramsey is. Dad listens to him on the radio. You’ve heard of him, but you don’t know anything about him. Basically, this is what he says: make a budget, avoid debt, start tithing, start saving. Tithe and save 10% of what you make. Yes, you end up with 80% your income, but it is worth it in the long run.

This is boring adult stuff. But if you don’t start doing this now, you’ll find yourself at the end of the month wondering where your money went. The good news is, you figure most of this out by about 30. If you must take on debt other than a mortgage, pay it off as quickly as you can. At 40 I’m wishing I had saved a lot more.

Remember the cheat code to get 99 lives on Contra? Well, here are the cheat codes to your career.

Up, up, down, down, left, right, B, A. I wish it was that easy! But it’s not as hard as you think.

1. Start an email list. Start with a dozen friends and quickly build it to 100.

That dorky, flimsy Rolodex is about to be replaced by the address book in Palm Pilots and computers. Your contacts are your most valuable asset. Start an email list by collecting your friends’ addresses. Say, “I’m going to send out a weekly email about art and design, can I send it to you, too?” Collect 100 addresses as quickly as you can, and honor your promise to email something once a week. Once email distribution services become available, sign up. Write about your art, your design processes, your philosophy.

2. Weblogs are the future.

Right now, in 1999, weblogs are mostly used for logging daily research items at colleges or for people to collect links to cool stuff they find on the web. In a few years, they will be called “blogs.” It’ll be the next big buzzword. You’ve seen them, but you don’t know it has a name. Basically, it’s a website that gets updated regularly.

Blogs will revolutionize pretty much everything, and it’ll be super easy to launch one and get your message out to the world. 20 years later, it’s hard to take seriously any business that doesn’t have a blog.

Your website should be a blog. There will always be other sites you can have a presence on, but your blog is your home base. The same kind of content should go on your blog as your email newsletter: your art process, what art means to you, the results you get for your design clients. Focus on the people who hire you and buy your work, not your peers. Unless, of course, you want to provide services to people like you. Chances are, you don’t.

(Until you build a business and then make a business out of telling other people how to do what you did. That’s lucrative, but it takes time to get there.)

Don’t agonize over each update – publish as often as possible. Publish every day for a year, and people will start to notice. You’ll get better at expressing yourself. After a year or two, start to think like a magazine and create an editorial calendar. You’ll build a small media empire this way.

In 2003, something called WordPress will come out. Learn WordPress right away. It’ll be rough around the edges in the beginning, but it’ll become the platform most websites are built on in 10-20 years. It’s a great blogging software and in 10 years it will be a defacto content management system, or CMS. It’ll be dry and geeky and boring at first, but if you learn WordPress, you’ll have a skillset other people don’t have, plus a killer website for sharing your work.

The search engine Google launched a couple of years ago. Learn Search Engine Optimization (SEO). (By the way, buy stock in Google, Apple, and Amazon as soon as possible.) Learn the basics of SEO, and you can apply that to websites, podcasts, social media, marketing products, you name it. Good SEO is good business: be relevant to your audience. Build connections with people by producing something that resonates with them, whether it is writing, video, or audio. Yes, you’ll create all of those things.

3. Read all the business and marketing books you can find, and make a plan.

Buy books, check them out at the library, whatever you need to do. Find out who Seth Godin is and read everything he writes. Learn about art businesses and make a plan. How did Andy Warhol make money? Salvador Dali? Read up as much as you can, and make a plan.

Here’s a simple plan that works: design something cool every day, publish it, and send it to your list. Make art every day and publish it online. (Are you noticing a pattern yet?) Show up every day, even if it isn’t perfect. It’s that simple. Just publish something. This still works in 2019. Start there. Then you can find out who your people are, who likes your work, and talk to them and understand them.

Don’t think of your audience as an audience. Think of them as your tribe, your people. Once you demonstrate that you understand them, they’ll see you as a friend and start buying your work. Build up a body of work, and talk to galleries. It’s scary, but it’s worth it.

Make sure your parents know you have a plan, and follow-through. Let them see you working to get your art out there.

3. If a job sounds like it’ll suck, don’t take it. 

What might be cushy job for good money will likely crush your soul.

4. Get involved with non-profits. 

Not everything is about making money. It’s about making connections and doing good.

5. The wealthy have a several income streams.

Here’s how you can build multiple income streams as an artist and graphic designer:

1. Launch a website/blog to share your work. Show your process. Offer freelance services to start an income stream apart from your day job.
2. After a hundred articles or so, offer to write for other websites, for free. Eventually you can do this for money. That’s another income stream.
3. Sell original art directly online via eBay. Sign up for PayPal and take payments that way. That’s another income stream.
4. Offer prints online. That’s yet another income stream.
5. Sell consulting services and open up group masterminds or create a course to share what you’ve learned. That’s a few more income streams. I know several people who have done quite well this way.

You’ll be independently wealthy by the time you’re 35 if you do this. If one area doesn’t do so well for some reason, you have others to make up for it.

Your 20s are for working your ass off. In your 30s and 40s, you’ll want to spend time with your wife and kids. Make something, find out what works, change it up when it doesn’t work, and try again. This is the “ready-fire-aim” approach to business that will absolutely work in the 2000s, 2010s and beyond.

Don’t neglect your spiritual health.

You’ll figure this out on your own, but let me just say this: Don’t waste time on churches that don’t make you feel welcome. Church should be a safe place that motivates you to do ministry. Find your own faith. Question denominational thinking.

Don’t ignore the voice telling you to make art.

Make a daily art habit. 

The results will surprise you. You’ll improve really quickly. You’ll discover what you do and don’t like to paint. Try to finish something every day, or at the very least, paint at the same time every day. For completing a painting every day, I suggest picking a small scale, like 5 inches, or a little bigger if you find yourself getting too tight. Stay loose. I’ve found painting after dinner works best for me. Not 4 a.m. You’ll try for years to become a morning person, but it doesn’t work too well. 

Upgrade to the best possible gear as soon as possible. 

Computers, cameras, paints, brushes, canvas, software. Stay ahead of the curve. Build it into your budget.

Inventory your art. 

Track who buys it and for how much. Make a spreadsheet, buy software that does it, whatever. Track this and look for patterns. (This is something I need to do now, actually.) Paint more of what people like, but don’t confine yourself to that. Make sure it lines up with what you value. For example, I know you can paint florals really well, but you don’t enjoy it so much. 

Experiment with different mediums and techniques. 

Try acrylic and metallic paint. Trust me. The metallic paint seems tacky at first but it winds up pretty awesome.

Don’t waste time watching TV. 

When you get your first apartment, you’ll do nothing but watch TV. Four-hour blocks of reruns of Stargate SG-1 on Sci-Fi channel, plus nostalgic comedies on Nick-at-Nite, and membership at a video rental store down the street will have you watching an entire season of a show in a couple of days. “Binge-watching” will be a thing. Serialized TV will be reinvented, and in 15 years, broadband will be everywhere, and we’ll be able to watch TV on the internet.

Make art instead of watching TV. If you run out of money for canvas, draw stuff and post it on your blog. You’ll run out of money at some point and take photos of stuff and throw it together in Photoshop. Keep doing that. Do it every day. Then when you have money again, buy canvas and post what you paint on your blog regularly.

Make a schedule and stick to it. 

Try doing different tasks on different days. For example, make new art on Monday. Write about it on Tuesday. Edit your writing on Wednesday. Publish it on Thursday and email your list when your post goes live. Plan the next thing on Friday. Use the weekend to read and absorb new information and restock the well of thoughts and experiences from which you draw creative inspiration. Repeat.

Your education goes beyond your classes in school.

Consider changing your major.

You will wish you had graduated a few years later and majored in interactive design, design for the internet/web. That wasn’t an option in 1999. Instead, maybe major in marketing, with minors in graphic design and painting, although you will wish you had majored in painting.

There’s so much stuff you can learn online or at the library.

In 2019, colleges and universities are losing their status quickly. If you really want to learn something, you can learn it online for free or for cheap. I’m not pushing my kids to go to college, and I come from a long line of college graduates! Who knows what 2029 will look like?

The best way to learn is to get to know people.

Listen to smart people. Read voraciously. Buy coffee for the smartest people you know and listen to what they have to say. Follow their instructions and report back to them.

I know you’re tired of all this, but I have a few last things to mention.

1. Upgrade your hearing aids sooner. They are expensive, but worth it.
2. Take care of your car. Keep the oil changed, the tires rotated, the tires fresh, keep it clean.
3. The next few years are going to be hard. In 2001, you’ll see some tragic events unfold. The job market will be tough. You’ll persevere. 2009 will be difficult too, as the country experiences another market slump and you lose a job you like. Buckle up, Dorothy.

via GIPHY

via GIPHY

Do you think 20-year-old Brad would listen to that, or tune it out?

Knowing myself, I’d probably ignore a lot of it. But if 50-year-old me came to me today and told me what to do, I’d listen.

What would you tell yourself if you could go back to age 20?

The post Advice for My 20-Year-Old Self appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

For the past few years, I have participated in Art Every Day Month. I think daily challenges are a great way to boost your creativity. When combined with social media, daily challenges can get your art seen by more people.

Background

I turned forty in December. So I decided that, in the 40 days leading up to my fortieth birthday, I would do a painting a day. I combined this with the Art Every Day Month challenge that I normally do, basically adding a few days before and after the month of November to make it work.

So I created 40 paintings in 40 days leading up to my 40th birthday. Oh, and the paintings are 4×4 inches and cost $40 each. Lots of fours. (I’m also a four on the Ennegram. Coincidence?)

This was probably the most successful challenge project I’ve worked on. I’ve never had this level of output. Also, these paintings sold well, and continue to sell well. (I’ve got a few left in stock if you’re interested.)

Why did this go so well?

I think there are a number of factors that made this project successful for me. Here’s how.

The theme was consistent.

Consistency is key to these kinds of challenges, whether it is theme, size, medium, style, whatever. The name of the project tells you what it’s going to be. “40 days of abstracts” lets you know what I’m going to stick to, yet broad enough for interpretation. What constitutes an abstract painting? Lots of things, actually. Turns out I lean toward abstract landscapes most of all. You won’t see me doing horses or architecture or anything like that for this series. Geometric abstracts just aren’t really my thing. I like looking at color field paintings but it doesn’t really seem to gel when I try it.

Abstract landscapes loosely based on iPhone photos taken while driving the kids to school is specific yet broad enough that I’m able to come up with a lot of ideas that have a similar flavor.

The scale was something I could manage.

A four-by-four-inch painting is just the right size for me to get across an abstract idea in one sitting. Due to the way I paint nowadays, I don’t get into fussy details, which is what bogged me down when I attempted to paint 365 paintings in a year, which ultimately led a creative injury that halted any painting efforts for a year-and-a-half. This size helped me keep it simple. If I got too detailed, I knew it was time to back off.

I prepared ahead of time.

I bought boxes of ten canvases, toned them all orange at the same time, and sketched on several all at once by blocking in the composition with dark areas. That made it easy to just apply color when it was time to paint. That’s the fun part, anyway.

I showed up at the same time every day.

For years I would set my alarm for 4 a.m. and get in the studio and paint. That’s hard since I’m not much of a morning person. I might get a little done that way. This time, I completely flipped the time around. After the kids went to bed, it was time to paint! Often, I didn’t get in the studio until 7:30 or 8 at night, and I’d wrap up around 9:30 or 10. And guess what? It was easier to show up in the studio every single night unless we were out late or something.

The expectation I set for myself became what my audience expected of me.

I think people began to notice that I posted a new small abstract landscape painting at about 9:30 or 10 every night. They could end their day with a little bit of delightful color and a story about what it means to me. That’s what creating a brand really is: setting and managing expectations.

I found a way to win instead of fail if I got behind.

When I missed a couple of days in a row due to circumstances out of my control, I combined paintings into small polyptychs. It forced me to be creative and not accept defeat. Jon Acuff talks about this in his book Finish. It’s easy to throw in the towel when you miss a day.

So, what’s next?

I’m not really sure. I recently bought about twenty 10×10 inch canvases. The 100 Day Project is coming up starting in April, so I might participate in that. I’m not entirely sure. But now I have ways to be more intentional in whatever long-term project I do next.

Have you done a daily challenge before? How did it go? Let me know in the comments!

Related:

How do you push through? Habit | Brad Blackman Fine Art

The post Show Up Every Day: How the 40 Days of Abstracts Project was My Most Successful Yet appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

When I look at my top nine images from Instagram, I notice a couple of things.

All my top images were of my paintings. This is significant, because in the past few years I have made an effort to focus my Instagram account on my artwork rather than everyday life. Sure, I like to document a delicious cappuccino as much as the next coffee lover, but that’s not what my Instagram account is about.

You guys love the moody, hazy landscapes.

And I love them, too. There’s something powerful about sunsets and sunrises and fog that I find compelling, and I know I’m not the only one. It’s those liminal, in-between moments that I like to capture in my paintings. And I’m thinking of ways to make them moodier and hazier. Can’t stop, won’t stop.

My experiment with gold leaf was met with enthusiasm

When I shared the painting I did for my wife last summer, y’all sure liked it. I’ve done a few other things with gold leaf, some similar to this same piece, some different. They’ve received a similar response. I’m going to keep doing these, too. It’s a tricky process and I’m working on refining my technique.

Everyone loves puppies!

Who doesn’t love puppies?! I admit, my first pet portrait intimidated me. I’ve painted abstracts so long that I wondered if I still could do representational art. Turns out, I can! It just requires a different way of thinking. I got some good advice from others who have done a lot of pet portraits. I think the secret is to make sure you get the eyes right. That’s because when you hug your dog, you look her in the eyes! This was a lot of fun and I hope to do more pet portraits.

My colors have gotten brighter

My color palette skews blue and orange with pops of red and tan. This is an interesting trend to see in my work yet it’s not entirely surprising. I’ve loved this color scheme for a long time. In college I had a pair of Adidas sweatpants that were royal blue with orange stripes. Compared to a few years ago, there’s a wider distribution of values and a lot more light and color in my paintings. This may have to do with the more optimistic outlook I’ve adopted over the past few years.

The more consistently I post, the more consistent the reactions I get

I’ve found a sweet spot for when to post on Instagram: 8:30 to 9:30 p.m. It happens to be when I would post brand-new paintings from the 40 Days of Abstracts series. And it’s not just the time I’m posting that’s consistent. The nature of what I’m posting is consistent. People have come to expect a certain kind of image from me at a certain time every day. The built-in analytics confirm this.

Why 9:00 at night? I guess that’s when people are winding down and relaxing from the workday. That’s when they really want to see something that gives them hope and a sense of beauty in the world.

Well if that’s what people get from me, I’m glad.

If I can provide a sense of hope and optimism when everything is falling apart, that’s what I’ll do. That’s why I paint. I want to share hope and possibility.

The post 2018: The Year in Paintings appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

The highlights

My wife Hope changed careers. With all three kids in school, she decided it was time pursue a new full-time career. She’s had an interest in the legal field since working at a law firm before our daughter was born, so she started classes to become a paralegal, and changed jobs twice. This change in routine was a challenge for the kids but they adapted so well.

All three kids became active in Scouting BSA. It’s been somewhat controversial in some circles that the Boy Scouts opened their ranks to girls, but my daughter has loved every minute of it. She’s still active in Girl Scouts, too, and honestly wants to do everything. (We had to put a limit on the number after-school activities she was doing! She’s like the kid who wants to do all the things in this cartoon.) Since all three kids were active in Scouts and we went on several family camping trips, we bought a bunch of camping gear. Camping has kind of become our new family hobby.

I had an immensely successful Art Every Day Month. You know I’m a fan of this annual event, and this was my most successful one yet, with the most days worked as well as best sales. I’ll share more about that below and in a future post, so stay tuned.

The negatives

We lost my only surviving grandmother on Mother’s Day. My daughter is named after her, so she had a difficult time dealing with it, especially when it came close to when we usually celebrate my grandmother’s birthday.

Takeaways

Art Every Day Month was successful because I learned how to build better habits. I actually rolled AEDM into a larger project that I called 40 Days of Abstracts. I now have a better understanding of how to make a habit successful. As Jeff Goins says on his podcast, the trick is to make a habit easier to do than to avoid. He says this about writing, but it applies to any endeavor, creative or not. Soon, I will publish a post where I expand on the habits that got me through the 40 days of abstracts project. In a nutshell, you have to make your habit stick by creating a situation where it’s easier to do it than to not do it and by shrinking it down to as small a level as you can while still making it fun and challenging enough to stay engaged.

I received some good advice regarding pricing. One week in July, I ran a promo that I called Christmas in July. I knocked 30% off my prices.

Looking back, that was a bad idea. Art by definition is a luxury product. It’s not necessary for survival. It’s good for your soul and your mind but it’s not something that most people put in their monthly budget for survival. Since art is a luxury product, it needs to be priced as such.

My friend Pamela emailed me while the Christmas in July sale was going and said, “Brad, your prices are too low.” I appreciate when somebody cares enough to gently tell me what I’m doing wrong and how to correct it. “Brad I love your paintings, and I want you to succeed, so price them higher. Also, I know where you can get better canvases.” So, when I did the 40 Days of Abstracts Project toward the end of the year, I raised my rates to $5/linear inch.

That’s double what I was charging a year prior. And get this — I sold more paintings.

I have a plan to reach certain benchmarks in order to raise my rates over the next few years. Once my sales reach a certain level, the prices will increase. This is the kind of goal that will help my business succeed in the long run.

My friend also made a suggestion about where to get better canvas for a better price. It’s like what Picasso said:

“When art critics get together they talk about Form and Structure and Meaning. When artists get together they talk about where you can buy cheap turpentine.”

Pablo Picasso

I could spend a small fortune upgrading all my paints at once, but as I run out of colors, I’m replacing them with Golden acrylics.

We incorporated essential oils into our lives and that has made a huge difference in our health. When my wife first brought home essential oils I was pretty skeptical. It seemed “woo woo” and weird. But when I realized I didn’t get sick in November like I normally do, I was sold. We eat clean(er) now, cutting way back on meat and dairy. Stuff like the NingXia gets expensive (we call it “Ninja Juice”), but it’s so worth it in the long run. (If you want to learn about essential oils, you can use my wife’s Young Living affiliate link.)

Well there you have it.

That about sums up 2018. What did your 2018 look like? I’d love to know! Sound off in the comments.

Resources

• How I Price My Paintings
• Young Living Essential Oils (Affiliate)
• Thousands of Girls, Boys, and Families Celebrate Historic Launch of Scouts BSA
• Pamela Hodges
• Three Steps to Start a Daily Writing Habit

The post 7 things that really stand out about 2018 appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

(Can’t see the video? Click here.)

Start with the phone

My phone is always in my pocket, so it’s the most convenient camera. Plus, I can edit from the phone. I tend to take photos of fog and sunrises. Bonus points if I can get them both in the same shot! I’ll then edit with something like Mextures or Snapseed right on the phone. Sometimes I have an idea of what I want to do with the color. Usually I start with the composition, and then give it color in Mextures. It’s always about the mood. In this case, I wanted to create warmth.

Once I’ve edited the photo, I send it to my first generation iPad mini. It sits on my painting table next to my easel. It beats printing it out because I can get started much faster and zoom in on details if I need to. The zoom feature isn’t often necessary since by the time I’m at the detail stage, the painting doesn’t look that much like the source photo. The photo is simply a guide until the canvas takes on a life of its own.

To the canvas!

On a canvas I’ve toned orange I’ll establish the overall shapes by massing in the dark areas. I create texture with lots of drips.

Now I start building up the color. I try to work quickly and not get stuck in one area. I want to establish a full range of values as soon as possible. I allow the orange bleed through in some places.

Wrap it up.

From here it’s mostly just building up layers of paint. Once I’m finished, I sign it, varnish it, and paint the edges charcoal gray.

The post From the Phone to the Canvas: How I Make a Painting appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

The nice thing about it is that it has pushed me to show up every day, even when I don’t feel like it. I have fallen behind (and caught up by making a triptych so it wasn’t a total loss) but it’s simple enough that I know I can stay on top of it. It ties in nicely with my annual tradition of participating in Art Every Day Month. It just extends that project by a few days on either end of the month.

While 40 paintings sounds like a lot, you’d be surprised how many more ideas I have just waiting to be painted. Ideas beget more ideas. And I have a feeling I’ll be revisiting some of these compositions again later on a larger scale.

If you’re interested in adding one of these to your collection, contact me right away and I’ll email you an invoice for the one you want. $40+S&H.

The post 40 Paintings in 40 Days (#40DaysOfAbstracts) appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

A bolt of inspiration

I looked up at the wall above the desk. It was just crying for something to go in that spot. I knew I had a canvas that would fit perfectly. I knew I had to paint something for that space. But what? 

The office is a neutral gray, so I decided to work with more gray colors and add a pop of metallic gold by using gold leaf. This was my first time using gold leaf. It’s tricky to use! You have to hold your breath so it doesn’t blow away. It’s very delicate.

Of course, I filmed the whole thing.

You can see the video below:

This was the first time in a long while that I had painted anything this large, so it was a little intimidating at first, but I was thrilled to be working this big again.

My wife’s name is Hope, so I named this painting after her.

The painting turned out so stormy. Yet there’s a lot of light to it. I feel like it conveys the concept of hope in the middle of turbulent times. Raising a young family, we go through a lot of turbulent times with bills, kids getting sick (like when I got the inspiration to paint this), and things breaking (it seems like everything breaks down all at once).

I know from experience that turbulent times are not the end, and that hope will prevail eventually. And my wife is such a rock for our family even when things get crazy. She really is the best.

What do you think?

How do you think the gold leaf turned out?

I can’t wait to get it sealed and hung on the wall in Hope’s office!

The post I dedicated this painting to my amazing wife appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

Creative Inspiration

Bob Ross: Beauty is Everywhere and Chill with Bob Ross are both relaxing and fun and I get a few ideas for how to talk about my work as well as ways to actually make the paintings happen. His style has little to do with my style but I love the way he exudes positivity, and I want to bring something of that into the world.

Abstract: The Art of Design – it’s always inspiring to see behind different design disciplines. I admit I haven’t finished it because I don’t want it to end.

Anthony Bourdain: Parts Unknown – never saw this while he was alive. Such an interesting show.

Iris – (apparently it’s not on Netflix streaming anymore) It’s so inspiring to see this nonagenarian do her own thing. She made her own rules and ignored what “fashion” said to do, and the fashion world came to adore her for it. It proves that style is ultimately a personal thing and belongs to no era, and fashion is just trendy.

Entertainment

Voltron: Legendary Defender I’m an 80s kid. The reboot has been fun, and my kids love it, too. We will be sad when it ends later this year.

Queer Eye I think Netflix has absolutely nailed this reboot. It takes the best parts of the original and puts a great spin on things. Whereas the first version was more about breaking taboos I think this is more about breaking people out of what is holding them back.

Black Mirror This show blurs the line between science fiction and horror. It basically looks at the dark side of technology. The name comes from how so many digital devices these days are essentially black mirrors. The frightening thing is the horrible things depicted in the show are on the verge of happening in the next few years. (Well, maybe not, but it sure seems that way when you watch “Nosedive.”)

Alien Conspiracy Theories

I discovered Ancient Aliens on late night TV a few years ago and thought it was so much fun to watch. I don’t believe any of it but there are moments it’s convincing. (I have no doubt that the Biblical Flood wiped out some kind of technological advances we had.) No, I don’t really think there’s a secret society that lives on the moon. But I love the ideas of what if everything you believe is wrong.

What are you watching?

My wife and I just finished the second season of “The Good Place.” Have you seen it? What are you watching these days?

The post How I Built an Inspiring Netflix Queue appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

A quick look at what I’ve been reading lately

Art Money Success

Maria Brophy has packed this book with lots of practical advice from many years working alongside her artist husband Drew. This helped me finally figured out how to price my work realistically and sustainably.

The 12 Week Year

I haven’t actually started this yet, but I’m intrigued by the idea of focusing your projects in short cycles, rather than dragging things out longer than necessary. This ties in well with the 8-week cycle Shawn Blanc uses in his business. Cory Huff told me about this one last year when I was in the hot seat at one of his workshops.

The Lord of the Rings

Like a lot of people, I read The Hobbit in seventh grade. I never read the rest of the series, although I picked up The Fellowship of the Ring some twenty years ago. I never finished it since I got bogged down with all the songs and stuff. So I’m determined to read this entire gigantic 50th Anniversary volume, especially since a few years ago my daughter and I read an entire The Chronicles of Narnia volume out loud. The best way to read this is with a hot beverage in hand while sitting by a roaring fire.

Count Zero

I discovered cyberpunk about a year before “The Matrix” hit theaters. I’ve re-read Neuromancer several times, but I don’t think I’ve re-read this one. It’s surprising how much Gibson got right about the future, and how much he got wrong. (What’s a fax machine?) I picked up this British edition when I was in London in the late 90s.

Next Up, some re-reads:

Once I finish reading Art Money Success and and The 12 Week Year I will probably give some other books a re-read.

The Creative Habit by Twyla Tharp, which I reviewed here several years ago and wrote about further regarding the topic of spine.

The War of Art by Steven Pressfield, which I put on my list of required reading for artists, is always good for a much-needed mindset adjustment.

So what are you reading?

What are you reading these days? Sound off in the comments. I’d love to know.

The post 4 Amazing Books On My Nightstand Now appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

But it’s my space, and I like it. It’s where I paint. I’m fortunate to have a dedicated space for painting.  

In the video, you’ll see some of the tools I use, plus why I put my paints and brushes on the right-hand side of the easel.

What is your space? Whether you’re a painter like me, or someone who does crafts, or a writer, or whatever you do, I hope you have some kind of dedicated space for your work. What’s that like for you? I’d love for you to share in the comments!

The post Behind the Scenes: A Peek Into My Studio appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

If you have kids, what special things do you do together on a regular basis?

The post (Video) August 2018 First Saturday Art Crawl appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

It’s something that has always been a part of my life by default. But I wasn’t born with a sketchpad in hand. Being an artist is something that has taken me years — decades, even — to realize.

The Beginning

See, I was born early. I was a premie and got sick a day or two after I was born. The medicine they used to treat my infection saved my life — for that I am thankful. But it did extensive damage to my auditory and olfactory nerves. I have 80-90% hearing loss. I can’t smell very well, either. (I’m always asking my wife if my shirts smell okay enough to get one more wear out of them before washing!)

Since my hearing was damaged, my visual sense makes up for it. I learned how to draw to accommodate my hearing loss. This isn’t unusual for other deaf people. Many other deaf people I know are more finely attuned to visuals than the rest of the population. Since I couldn’t hear or speak well, I expressed myself visually. It wasn’t until I was two-years-old or so that my grandfather on my dad’s side — Papa Stan — figured out that I wasn’t hearing. So we had my hearing tested at Bill Wilkerson in Nashville. We lived in Kentucky at the time so it was a little bit of a drive.

I remember the waiting room at Bill Wilkerson. It had couches and chairs and those childrens’ toys with the wooden shapes on the wire that you push back and forth. When we went to have me fitted for hearing aids, we sat in the waiting room for some time, and someone gave me a sheet of paper and some drawing utensil. So I drew the toy fish in front of me. Of course, I don’t remember any of this. But apparently I drew such a remarkable expression on the fish that my family took notice. From then on, my drawing was encouraged.

Drawing Was My Life

My parents encouraged me to explore whatever I wanted. I did all sorts of things, from swim lessons to art lessons (which actually bored me) to Cub Scouts to running track and cross-country. I even took piano lessons. But the thing that was most consistent was I was always drawing. I drew constantly the first 18 or so years of my life. 

In elementary school, I dreamed of becoming an animator for Disney. I was fascinated with the artists at Disney-MGM Studios in Orlando. I thought it was cool that they studied real bears for Brother Bear. Even if the character they were drawing was a talking animal, they would make the same expression in the mirror and draw themselves as that animal. I was particularly fascinated with matching mouth shapes to sounds. I would film myself with the family VHS deck so I could study the shapes my mouth made and practice drawing them.

In middle school, I discovered comics via Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I found a graphic novel adaptation of the 1990 movie, and it was drawn in the same style as the original comic books from 1984, not the rounded cartoony style used in the animated TV show. From there I got into other comic books such as Spider-Man and Wolverine and Batman. I got really good at drawing superheroes and drew a few issues of my own comic book, which featured my two best friends and me. We were time travelers who transformed from skinny kids into muscle-bound heroes. I had a lot of fun drawing comics and it was my dream to work for Marvel Comics or Image Comics.

In high school, my aspirations grew a little more practical. I was on the yearbook staff, and learned how to lay out pages and spec type. I actually did layouts on grid paper and cropped photos with a wax pencil. Midway through the first year, we got a computer with Aldus PageMaker on it, and I learned how to do layouts that would have been impossible to specify on the grid paper. I learned this was called graphic art. Hey, I could do this for a living. And in the real world, it wasn’t called graphic art anymore. It’s graphic design. So when it came time for college, I majored in graphic design and got a BFA.

Then I Fell in Love

In the Fall of my sophomore year of college, I took Painting I as it was required for my major. I was in love.

It was magic to feel the paint run across the canvas under the brush. To feel the give and take between me and the canvas. The buttery feel of oil paint between the thumb and forefinger. To do more than just draw something, to create a world with color and brushstrokes. It got even better once I took color theory!

I fell in love with painting and I never looked back. It still took a while for me to realize this was what I was supposed to do.

One More Story from the Family Lore…

My grandfather on my mom’s side — “Granddaddy”  — dabbled in art and loved painting in watercolor. He would bring me along to his watercolor classes at the Centennial Arts Center in Centennial Park (check out the Parthenon if you are ever in Nashville). When I was about 8 or 9 years old, I was at one of these classes with him. I was working away on whatever it was I was doing in watercolors, and the instructor, Hazel King, came by and looked at what I was doing and said, “Well Brad, you’re going to be an artist someday!”

I looked up at her and said, “I am an artist!”

Of course it might have sounded rude or disrespectful but everyone laughed and my family told that story for years. Looking back, I realized: I already was an artist. Nobody had to tell me. I knew. I wasn’t trying to be an artist. It was just what I did. You don’t have to tell a child he/she is an artist. The kid already knows. The kid just is an artist without even trying to be. I was right all along. It just took me 25-30 years to realize this.

I Am An Artist

That’s why I never “got started” as an artist. Being an artist has always been a part of me. But that doesn’t mean I don’t make an effort at it. Believe me, it’s easier to just binge something on Netflix than make a new painting. Being an artist is a daily commitment. I have to listen to that call that is within me. To not listen to it is to avoid that which I was put on earth to do.

Another thing I’ve realized is that an artist is never truly “there.” You’ve never “arrived.” You’re always striving toward something. Maybe it’s a way of using color, or a texture, or a composition, or a poetic form, or a new instrument or some other thing. Again, it’s a daily commitment to the craft, a lifestyle of making art.

So how about you?

What is it you’re called to do? What were you put on this earth to do? I believe we are all here for a reason.

Sometimes we just have to dig for that reason, and we realize we had it all along.

The post Behind the Scenes: How I Got Started As An Artist appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

The past few years I’ve developed a technique where my paintings have a hazy mood that creates a misty feel. It’s very much inspired by the #mistyfoggymoodymilky hashtag I discovered on Instagram a few years ago. I began taking my own Instagram shots with this sort of feel and eventually incorporated it into my abstract paintings.

Most of the time I make snapshots of foggy landscapes, taken in the car while taking the kids to school in the mornings. Nashville is pretty humid so there is always a little bit of mist in the air. I live between two lakes, and most mornings there is at least a touch of fog especially in the low-lying fields near my kids’ school. This is prime material for painting reference photos.

My usual painting process looks like this:

1.  take moody snapshots with a little bit of fog and atmosphere
2. juice the photos up on my phone, usually with a warm-to-cool tone (orange to turquoise works really well for me)
3. tone the canvas with orange
4. mass in the dark areas
5. gradually build up layers of color, keeping grayer, cool colors in the distance and warm colors in the foreground

My first weapon is my brush

The real secret to the haze is in my brushes. I prefer a sable brush with flexible bristles. If the bristles are too stiff, they will put down thick, fat layers of paint. Boar or hog bristle (and their synthetic counterparts) put down a thick, short stroke, regardless of the bristle length. I’ve found the long sable hairs to be better at putting down smooth strokes that I can then build up slowly to get that luminous effect. Then I gently brush the back and forth and allow it to blend.

Then I make sure I use the right medium

Another important tool I use is airbrush medium. It gives the paint a lot of flow without diluting the pigment. You can make the acrylic paint thin and runny (which is great for drips) by adding water, but that breaks up the pigment and as it dries it leaves tiny pockets of pigment separated from each other. Maybe that’s what you’re going for, but it isn’t what I want to have happen on the canvas! So airbrush medium makes a thick acrylic paint into a liquid paint. It’s easier to glaze with it now.

Years ago I realized I had a tendency to blend the paint. I felt it was a flaw, because at the time, I wanted vibrant strokes next to each other. In my impatience I would blend them. Eventually I embraced the blending and my paintings became very smooth, and it was sort of a hallmark of my work. It’s my version of the classic glazing method, really.

Now I use that technique to create fog and haze by adding thin layers of transparent white (which is harder than it sounds because white is pretty opaque). Fog became an important metaphor for my work, since I believe that no matter how unclear things are, you can still find your way. Now I embrace that ambiguity of life and readily admit that I don’t have all the answers, and I’m okay with that.

So that’s how I get that hazy effect. I use flexible sable brushes and airbrush medium. Which reminds me, I need to make a run to the art supply store and restock.

The post The Secret Techniques I Use to Paint That Hazy Mood appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

You know me. Sometimes I need a challenge to keep myself going. So when I saw #the100dayproject floating around on Instagram, it sounded like the right thing for me.

I may have only been in the studio a total of ten times the past 30 days, but I still think it is the right thing for me. I haven’t been in the studio every single day, but that’s okay. No, it isn’t ideal. Yes, I’d like to be in the studio every day just like I’d like to work out every day. Do I need more discipline? I know I do. But things come up all the time.

My grandmother passed away not a week after I started the challenge, and it took a few days to get back in the studio after that. That’s been a more difficult adjustment for our family than we expected.

Then the kids finished up their school year, and we as a family had to find new routines. We are still figuring that part out. So it’s somewhat slow going, but at least it is going.

We did take the kids to the Frist Art Museum (formerly known as the Frist Center for the Visual Arts) on Memorial Day and I got it on video! They recently rebranded and reopened the newly renovated Martin Art Quest.

And so far I have worked on three paintings. That’s a lot better than zero, right?

So yeah, despite the apparent lack of studio activity the past month, there’s a lot happening beneath the surface. Lots of ideas swirling around in addition to normal family stuff. The ideas are not really all that well-formed yet, but they’ll grow. I keep sketching and writing.

I just remind myself that while things are slow right now, they won’t always be. And when things get busy, I know they won’t always be that way. Life is always in flux. But I cling to routines like my morning coffee and Bible reading (and if there’s time, painting and a quick workout).

What do you do to stay grounded when things are constantly changing, or when things get slow?

The post How do you push through? Habit. appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

I got into Star Wars gradually. I saw “Return of the Jedi” in theaters. I loved the Ewoks and hated that my mom covered my eyes when something blew up. I read the graphic novel version of “The Empire Strikes Back” as a kid. They re-released “A New Hope” when I was in high school. Then I re-watched the original trilogy multiple times in college and went to the opening night midnight showing of Episode I. (My buddies and I said two things: Queen Amidala is hot, and Jar Jar Binks is annoying.)

But as the franchise has expanded and my own kids have taken an interest in it, I’ve grown more fascinated with the overall story and mythology.

A few weeks before Christmas 2017, I decided to offer small painting commissions in time for the holiday

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Right before Christmas, I advertised painting commissions for Christmas gifts, featuring the “Hoth” painting I did a few years ago. A girl I used to go to church with hired me to do something Star Wars themed for her husband.

I was pretty excited because after I painted “Hoth,” I got the idea for how to do something with Yoda’s swamp. When I painted “Hoth” I struggled with how to adapt it to my drippy, abstract style and wasn’t sure how to integrate that into an actual landscape.

I managed to form the drips and scrapes into an illustrative landscape. I wanted to to try something else in the Star Wars universe, and Dagobah was the first thing I thought of.

Trust the process

I knew first of all that Dagobah would be green. I felt the best way to create Yoda’s swamp was to layer lots of drips to create the impression of trees and vines in a swamp.

So I started with my usual overall orange tone on the canvas (you can see a little bit of it in places) and dripped thin, blackish paint from what would be the top of the canvas, flipping it around once I was satisfied.

I built up blue-gray layers to give it a misty haze. Some of the drips became thick tree trunks, and swoopy lines began to suggest vines hanging down. I sliced in some muddy, greenish water and surrounded it with mud to create the foreground.

The quickest, funnest part was sketching Yoda himself by the water. I dabbed in bright yellow dots to suggest light inside his little house in the bottom of the tree. It’s warm inside Yoda’s little hole, so a wisp of smoke snakes up from a tiny chimney at the base of the tree. Of course, Luke Skywalker’s X-Wing is stuck in the muck.

It’s a pivotal scene for Luke because he is on the cusp of becoming a Jedi, but so much doubt and fear holds him back. The murk of the swamp reflects his current state so well. He’s confused and uncertain of his own abilities as a Jedi. And Yoda is the one to help him get to that next level.

“Dagobah,” 2017. Acrylic on canvas, 8×8 inches (Not for sale)

At any rate, it was cool to create that swampy, humid, misty atmosphere.

As I painted it, I thought surely they filmed it in Louisiana or Florida or someplace like that. I did some digging online, and apparently it was filmed on a sound stage. That had to be one cool set.

I’d like to try a bigger version of this to really capture the details, depth, and atmosphere of the swamp. I’ve found the secret to painting mist is to paint what you normally would, and then obscure it with lots of thin, gray layers.

You can have one, too

The post How I Painted Yoda’s Swamp on Dagobah appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

There’s something freeing about that framework of a daily challenge plus the chance to try something different for just a month.

Looking back over the past few years of Art Every Day Month

For example, in 2014, the first year I really focused on painting every day for AEDM, I tried acrylic and abstracts just to change things up a little. I loved it so much I decided to shift my entire art practice in that direction.

After I wrapped up my 2015 AEDM set, which was inspired by British rock songs, I noticed my painting had gotten darker and darker (maybe from listening to too much Black Sabbath on repeat) so I made the effort to brighten up my work. It took a while, but I did successfully make things brighter.

So by AEDM 2016, I was painting bright, abstract landscapes after I threw out my back. At the end of the month, I tried the smaller format in an effort to sell pantings for the holidays, and stuck with it.

In early 2017, I developed a new technique of toning the canvases orange. So for #AEDM2017, I continued the small, abstract landscapes that began all orange.

I really like this size and technique

I love these little paintings because I can finish them relatively quickly, and price them at a place where it’s easy for collectors to purchase and easy for me to ship. So it’s a win for everybody.

Here’s a short video compilation of #AEDM2017 efforts:

The post Creating a Series of Abstract Landscapes (#AEDM2017 Recap) appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

The Call to Adventure, 2017. acrylic on canvas, 8×8 inches. $45

They Look Like Each Other

Crossing the Threshold, 2017. acrylic on canvas, 8×8 inches. $45

Part of Something Bigger

Belly of the Beast, 2017. acrylic on canvas, 8×8 inches. $45

All great stories follow the Hero’s Journey pattern: the protagonist is called to an adventure, or to do something out of the norm, and resists, but is met with someone who helps him/her. They go through a series of trials, and ultimately confront “the Big Bad” and claim the ultimate reward, then return to their old world a changed person.

Summit, 2017. acrylic on canvas, 8×8 inches. $45

The post Behind the Scenes: Painting 4 Canvases at Once (Time-Lapse Video) appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

Yes, the tub.

I know. It’s gross. I had to clean out some hair that had accumulated around the drain stopper in our bathtub. The end of the stopper was discolored from some harmless oxidization, and it created an interesting brown and turquoise pattern.

I wanted to replicate that pattern in brighter colors, so I swapped the brown for orange and shifted the turquoise to blue.

As usual, the painting took on a life of its own

Toward the end of painting this, the canvas started looking like a landscape. I flipped it upside-down to find earth and sky.

For some reason, this horizon motif keeps turning up in nearly every painting I do these days. I think there is something powerful and primal about the way the human eye looks for horizons.

I have to trust the process. “Trust the Soup,” as Steven Pressfield says in Do the Work.

The name

I asked my wife what I should call this, and she gave it the name “After the Storm.” I think it underscores a deep desire to move on past the current storms of life and get to the next stage that will hopefully be more peaceful.

And peace is what I pray for. Not so much a lack of storms, but the ability to remain at peace in the middle of the storm. The calm is the reward.

“After the Storm,” 2017. Acrylic on canvas, 8×8 inches.

If you’re interested in purchasing this painting, please visit the page for it in my shop.

The post How something gross became a metaphor for finding peace appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

So I was surprised and humbled that when she saw a work-in-progress of mine on Instagram, it spoke to her in such a way that it summed up her life right now.

I had posted on Instagram a shot of a piece I had just signed and was debating whether to add anything else to it. Kim said to leave it alone:

Wow! That might be my favorite painting you’ve done. Breathtaking! Don’t touch it! It’s perfect!

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She contacted me privately and asked about purchasing it. I gave her the price and she told me it was good, so I set up the Square link for her to purchase the painting.

As soon as the transaction completed, I took the painting to FedEx and set up shipping. She lives a few hours away so the painting was at her house the next afternoon!

She immediately posted a picture of the painting in her home, attaching John 1:5 to it. I love that passage, because it resonates with the side of me that sees the world as emblematic of something deeper and bigger going on than what we simply see. I always tell my children to be a light in the world.

This is when making art becomes tremendously rewarding.

When you know it has touched someone’s heart.

When you’ve made something that resonates with a person’s soul.

It’s amazing and humbling and you want to do it again and again.

It’s always an honor for something I make to grace someone’s space. I hold that to be something sacred and special.

The post In the middle of a difficult year, she said my painting was breathtaking appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

Where there are performances, there is gaffer’s tape, used to mark where sound equipment goes or where singers stand on stage or just to keep power cables in place.

It ends up on everything.

I find gaffer’s tape everywhere, from sidewalks to light posts to the bottom of your shoe. And when that tape gets exposed to the weather it takes on some interesting textures that inspire me as a painter.

It warps and weathers and wears in a way you wouldn’t expect.

I first noticed the gaffer’s tape on one of my morning walks through downtown Nashville when I found it on the sidewalk in Riverfront park. It was pretty unremarkable at first. But when I saw it again later, there was something interesting in the shape, the texture, the way it stuck to the ground and became part of the ground. I don’t think it’s ever coming off, since it’s been about six months since I first saw it, and that area has flooded a couple of times since it is right next to (actually over) the river.

And about a foot away, there was another piece.

A few days later on the same walk, about a quarter mile away, I noticed a light post that had been wrapped in duct tape or electrical tape. I realized this tape is ubiquitous — more so than duct tape.

The sloppiness of it appeals to me. We are quick to accept an “it’ll do” application when we are in a hurry. It may not be the prettiest or most seamless approach, but usually, it gets the job done – for a long time, too.

I’ve been collecting so many photos of such things that I’ve made an album on my iPhone and called it “Detritus.” It’s got worn tape, badly pressure-washed places, and generally “gunky” places around town that have this weird, dirty beauty to them.

This has made its way into my paintings.

As usual, when I see something that inspires me and it comes up in my painting, it gets so transformed and distorted that it looks nothing like the source material. And that’s fine with me. I don’t necessarily want to paint the tape. What I want to paint is that overlap, that line, that corrosion.

Wrapped, Acrylic on canvas board. 4×6 inches, 2017. (Sold to the Molly Olly’s Wishes Twitter Art Exhibit fundraiser)

Drawbridge, acrylic on canvas. 8×8 inches, 2017. (Sold via Instagram/Facebook)

But why tape?

Why does anything else inspire me? It just does. Open your eyes, because inspiration and beauty are everywhere.

Being creative is simply living with your eyes open.

The post Beauty in the Dirt: Unlikely Inspiration appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

When the sun rises and hits the fog, everything is perfectly illuminated. The sky comes alive.

I built this painting in stages, mainly by color.

The colors are fruity and fragrant. I started with lemon yellow and tangerine orange, establishing the sky and the horizon. You get a sense of the rising sun from the juxtaposition of deep yellow and fresh orange. It’s almost as if it smells like a citrus grove.

I followed the yellow and orange with a lovely cranberry color, dripping in dark corners and solidifying the ground to give it weight and mass amid all the light streaming over the horizon.

Bright pink accentuates the cranberry, which is offset by rich, deep muscadine purple and warm reddish-brown tones to further solidify and anchor the ground, which is warm despite the early morning.

This painting is a fresh blast of warm air, the surging of a brand-new day.

The post Time Lapse: Lakeside Sunrise appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

McGavock, 2003 Oil on canvas, 40 x 20 inches

I’ll be using the hashtag #ChristmasInJuly. I know it’s not terribly original and lots of other people are using that hashtag, but that’s okay! I think people have an idea what to expect from it.

Here on the blog I’ll post a weekly recap of what I’ve put up for sale the previous seven days. The same info will go out to my mailing list as well.

If you’ve been holding off purchasing one of my paintings, this might be the time to do it!

So make sure you follow me on Instagram and keep your eyes peeled for some art you may not have seen before!

The fine print: Shipping is not included in pricing. Prices good for the month of July 2017 only.

The post Christmas in July! Painting inventory reduction sale appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

This really shows in this painting time lapse video of “Rebirth.” On the surface, it is an abstract sunrise (or sunset). But when you dig deeper you see how all the colors are connected to each other. Likewise, we are all connected to each other.

Texture and Depth

One of the things I find most interesting when I paint is the development of texture and luminosity by layering paint. This literally gives the canvas depth.

Originally this painting was going to start with a purple base, but I decided to go with a light orange. I built on that to develop a sort of sunrise/sunset mood, playing up a blue-and-orange color contrast. These seem to be common themes for me lately.

Getting Bold

The more I paint, the more I find myself getting bolder. For a long time I avoided colors like black and green. Now I embrace them and allow them to shape the canvas. I tend to put down black (or very dark gray) and then build the colors on top of that.

I suppose in a way it is a throwback to the Renaissance grisaille method, where colors are glazed on top of a gray painting. This ensures strong values and tight composition before color even goes on the canvas.

Back Up

I had already added my signature when I realized it needed something to tie the entire canvas together. So I added splatters in white, green, and orange. That way there is a little bit of those colors throughout, and not confined to one area.

It reminds me that there is a little bit of all of us in each of us.

Everything is connected.

Rebirth, 2017 Acrylic on canvas, 8 x 8 inches

The post Painting “Rebirth” (Time Lapse Video) appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

I wanted to do something with swooping, semi-circular forms, so I started with an all-brown canvas and blocked in some white swoops. Once that dried I painted over all that with gold.

The gold was too much!

I was reminded of Henri Matisse who said that “a thimbleful of red is redder than a bucketful.”

In other words, a little bit of color can be far more effective than flooding the whole thing. Restraint is powerful.

(Don’t see the video? Click here.)

So I scaled back the gold and wound up with something that made me think of a landscape seen through a fisheye lens. As the painting progressed, the top part felt like sky and the bottom felt like ground. The sky and earth were meeting at this curved horizon and something special was happening here.

It brought to my mind the line “so heaven meets earth in a sloppy wet kiss” from “How He Loves” (the Jesus Culture version.)

This painting taught me to be open to change and to not be afraid to put everything out there and then scale back. There’s always a sense of surging and retreating when I paint.

Life is no different.

Heaven Meets Earth 2017. Acrylic on canvas, 8 x 8 inches

The post Painting Heaven Meets Earth (Time-Lapse Video) appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

After I got over the horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach, I started devising a strategy for getting everything back online.

My first move was to get the basics online again — the home, about, contact pages, and the like.

Detail: Reaching, She Ascended, Descended. 2016. acrylic on canvas, 24 x 30 inches

The five years’ worth of blog posts will have to be added incrementally.

For those who want to know, I’m using a combination of the Wayback Machine and the RSS feed content that is still in my Feedly account to copy and paste the content into the site. Fortunately the files were intact, but the database was gone.

If none of this made sense to you, that’s okay. Just know that I don’t need to be doing a whole lot of “heavy lifting” late at night when I’m tired and my judgement isn’t so great. I might do something dumb like wipe out my site!

But — like I’ve said before, I have all the tools at my disposal to get out of a jam.

Hopefully in the next week or two I’ll start putting new stuff on the blog. See you soon.

The post The Terrible Mistake I Made Working Late appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

This is a theme that’s been showing up in my paintings the past dozen years or so.

This time, I started out by covering the entire canvas in light yellow, and sketched in the forms with a dark gray and let it drip all over the place. At that point I let it sit for a few weeks as I wasn’t sure what to do with it.

After letting it marinate I took a snapshot of it on my phone and threw it into Mextures or Snapseed (or both, probably) and played with it until I came up with a concept that I thought might work.

It turns out this orange-blue-green color scheme works really well. The composition was already strong but it needed something else. I didn’t know what. Using a couple of apps on my phone helped me figure out a color scheme that would make it all come together. This is when just playing around or making a lateral move can solve problems. This change in perspective helped me see it better.

So I added blue-green and orange in the sky to create a nice color contrast. I saw deep reds in the ground so I pulled those out. Push the darks and lights back and forth here and there.

My signature drips eventually disappeared but I am happy with the end result. It’s such a celebration of color and form!

It was a lot of fun playing with this one. I’m selling it for $40 on Instagram.

So head over to Instagram, click the heart if you like it and let me know if you’re interested by typing “SOLD!” in the comments. I’ll send you a direct message so we can work out PayPal and shipping arrangements.

UPDATE: This painting has sold!

The post How I made a drab painting delightful appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

For years I’ve had my easel in the corner.

To the left, I had finished canvases as well as stretched canvases that hadn’t been touched. To the right of my easel was my work table, with all my paints, brushes, mediums, small canvases, and various tools. The tripod base for my easel allows for the back leg to fit in the corner easily.

However, I had a hard time painting on anything taller than about 32 inches due to the sloped ceiling. Everything I painted on would rub against the angled ceiling and I’d end up getting paint on the ceiling.

Before we moved to this house I tended to paint on larger canvases. 36 inches was actually kind of a small size for me back then. I missed painting larger, and my space needed to accomodate larger canvases. So I collapsed the back leg of the easel, leaned entire thing against the wall at a very slight angle and put the work table on the left, in front of those stacks of finished and untouched canvases.

That worked for a little while.

It opened up the room a bit. However, in the middle of last summer I decided to several canvases on the floor and paint them all at once as sort of a large polyptych.

Having the table out of the way worked well for this. For a little while.

I quickly came to the realization that while I had opened up the room, I had put my paints and water bucket and brushes and all my other tools on the wrong side.

I’m right-handed, so putting my table on the left made no sense. I was reaching across myself to reload my brushes!

So recently I moved the art table back over to the right side of my easel.

We got rid of the sleeper sofa that we never used and put the kids’ IKEA easels there. Now the bonus room is an art room for the whole family! The kids love it.

I guess the one thing was really two things: I moved the easel to the right since I’m right-handed, and we got rid of the couch that just held un-folded laundry.

The only problem now is that the kids like to sneak in there unattended and get into the paints. And they forget to put the caps back on!

The post The One Thing That Made My Painting Studio More Effective appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

Back in January, my friend Beth Inglish hosted a workshop called How to Sell Your Art Online, which was put on by Cory Huff at The Abundant Artist. Attending turned out to be one of the most rewarding things I’ve done.

The entire workshop was great, covering a variety of methods for selling and promoting your art.

The best part for me was the Hot Seat.

I spent 30 minutes being grilled by Cory (and all the other attendees) about my art business and what is working and what isn’t working. This for me was worth the entire price of admission. Don’t get me wrong; I learned a lot the rest of the weekend, but for me, everything hinged on that one 30-minute period.

I was a little bit nervous at first as sometimes I don’t like being in the spotlight. But my unease turned to giddiness as we started to dig into what is working and what isn’t. Why my art is or isn’t selling.

Like a lot of artists, selling is hard for me. I can paint all day long, but asking people for money in exchange for my art is difficult. I’m happy charging a decent fee for my graphic design services, but when it comes to my art, it’s more difficult. I think part of it is I get more attached to my fine art than my design work. Part of it stems from the way I was raised – don’t ask for stuff because we’re living on a preacher’s salary. So I’ve grown up with a scarcity mindset, unknowingly limiting others around me. Maria Brophy has described this in her private Facebook group “Art Money Success”.

So in the next few months you’ll see me actively selling.

Various #acrylic #painting canvases in progress, in various stages of completion. All are 8 x 8 inches and will sell for $45 each. Message me if interested in purchasing via PayPal!⠀

A post shared by Brad Blackman (@bradblackman) on Mar 11, 2017 at 11:21am PST

Don’t worry, I’m not going to turn into the hard-sell type. That’s just not me. I hate being sold to. I do, however, love buying stuff that taps into something I get excited about.

Like coffee, Doctor Who, dark denim, and boots. The things I buy tap into how I see myself. I imagine the people who buy my art see something of themselves in it. That’s who I want to connect with. There’s something in my paintings that reminds them of themselves, who they are and what they stand for. Or what they want to attain. Or where they’ve been and where they want to go, emotionally, intellectually, spiritually.

So many of my paintings are about peace and quiet and rugged energy and focus, and I think by putting these paintings in front of the people who are looking for that, they’ll want to buy them.

My job is to get the work in front of them and make it easy to buy.

Since I already have a big inventory, my focus over the next few months will be to get the work out there. I don’t need to paint more or blog more. I need to build that pipeline or funnel to sell my work.

What that means is you’ll see me sharing more art for sale on Instagram, Facebook, and my blog. The only difference is you’ll see a lot more price tags on my paintings. That’s it!

The sales funnel is relatively simple. It’s just putting the art out there that’s work for me. Then it’s hard to make the “ask.” Asking people if they want to buy a piece is work. I can’t explain it, but it feels like confrontation, even when I know it isn’t. But you know, if someone isn’t into my art, it’s fine! No worries. It’s just not their thing.

I believe every piece I make has a home somewhere, and I just have to get it into those homes.

The post 30 minutes in the Hot Seat: the Best Investment I’ve Ever Made appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

I am thrilled to participate in the 2017 Twitter Art Exhibit! It was organized by my friend David Sandum and every year it benefits a different charitable group. This year, it benefits Molly Olly’s Wishes, a group that helps support terminally and seriously ill children and their families.

It opened April 1 at the Artshouse in Stratford upon Avon. Yes, where Shakespeare was born. It will run through the 19th.

This was my first time participating. All artists submit a flat, postcard-sized piece in the medium of their choice. I found some postcard-sized cardboard-backed canvases at Plaza and used one of those to create a piece similar to the gold and brown pieces I’ve done in the past 12 months or so.

Thanks everyone who is donating art for the #TAE17 charity postcard sale supporting @mollyollyswishes #twitterartexhibition2017 #charityart #stratforduponavon

A post shared by Twitter Art Exhibit (@twitterartexhibit) on Feb 28, 2017 at 9:56am PST

Here’s my submission:

If you want to learn more about TAE, visit twitterartexhibit.org. Also, check out this video from David about his art and TAE.

The 2018 Twitter Art Exhibit will be held in Australia!

Next time, I’ll ship in sturdier packaging.

The post Changing the World One Postcard at a Time appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

On Christmas Eve, we were on our way back from my parents house after celebrating Christmas with my parents and my sister’s family. About halfway home, we noticed the tire indicator light in our Toyota Sienna minivan came on. We thought it was probably no big deal and continued on to the Christmas Eve service at church.

Of course, once we got home, I saw that the rear driver side tire was just about flat.

Oh great. This was not the way I wanted to spend Christmas.

Well, on Christmas Day, after the kids opened their presents, I went out to the garage to remove the tire and put the spare on.

The flat tire had a screw right smack in the middle of the tread. Maybe this can be fixed without too much trouble, I thought.

So far, so good, right? We will just have to get to Costco first thing in the morning before it gets crowded and get the tire fixed. We’ll be out maybe a hundred bucks or so.

That afternoon I went upstairs and discovered that the commode was backed up.

My first thought was:

You know how things happen in threes? Maybe number one was the flat tire. Number two is the commode being backed up (no pun intended). And what’s next for number three?

Pessimistic thinking, I know. Just waiting for the other shoe to drop. So I get up the day after Christmas wondering what the third bad thing that will happen is going to be. We get loaded up in the car to celebrate Christmas with the in-laws.

Guess what?

The van won’t start.

The battery has been drained because a door was left open all night (the van was in the garage). So I was kind of bummed since it delayed us in getting to Costco as soon as it opened to get the tire fixed.

But here’s the thing.

With all of these situations I have been fully equipped to handle everything.

• I know how to change a tire. The most challenging part was getting the spare out from under the van and I’ve done this before. (The worst was on a country road long after dark in July when it felt like the heat index was a thousand degrees.)
• We have a plunger. So the backed-up commode was not the end of the world. Once you have a two-year-old stuff an entire roll of toilet paper in the commode, you keep a plunger on hand.
• I have jumper cables. I was fortunate enough to have the other car in the driveway. I managed to get it close enough to the van to use the jumper cables.

You may not be spiritual, but…

The point of all this is I have a feeling that God is trying to tell me that in 2017 I will have challenges, but I am fully equipped to take them on.

I will have inconveniences and momentary setbacks. But I have everything I need to manage them. I have the tools. And it and if I don’t have those tools right now, I have the means to obtain them.

So I feel pretty good about 2017.

How about you?

(PS: Costco replaced the tire at no cost to us since it was still under warranty. Hooray!)

Photo Credit: Imthaz Ahamed

The post Bummer: What a Flat Tire Taught Me About the New Year appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

Here are four artists whose work appears to be a glimpse into another world. I want to visit each world and see what goes on there.

Roger Dean

Tara McPherson

Bob Ross

Yes, Bob Ross, everyone’s favorite T.V. painter with the soft-spoken voice. No, his work isn’t surreal, but his landscapes seem to emerge from an alternative world where humans are actually responsible for the environment. This reflects Ross’s worldview and desire for a peaceful, harmonious life. I’m only showing this promo image because there have been so many copycats that I can’t really tell what is his. What I like about him is not so much the art itself as the spirit in which it is made.

Salvador Dalí

Whose world would you want to visit?

Or is there another artist whose work transports you to a place you want to get lost in?

The post Creative Inspiration: 4 Painters Who Create Immersive Worlds appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

But art is such a subjective thing. How does an artist set goals, anyway?

If you want to lose weight, it’s good to determine how much weight you want to lose and when you want to have lost it. Or if you want to run a marathon, you set a plan for achieving a certain running pace by a particular date. In other words, make it smart.

What are SMART goals?

• Specific
• Measurable
• Attainable
• Realistic
• Time-bound

Flimsy goals

• Get better at a particular technique. I’d argue that this is a poor goal since “better” isn’t measurable. But you can enroll in a class that might help you improve. Maybe go outside your comfort zone and learn an art form that is not your normal mode of working. Working with pottery might spark new ideas for fashion design.
• Sell more art. This isn’t really a measurable goal. What does “more” mean, anyway? You can learn how to start selling art online, for example. (I have no affiliation with Cory, by the way.)

Set concrete goals

• Produce XX pieces this year. What does this look like broken down into quarterly and/or monthly quotas? Personally, I can’t expect myself to go-go-go constantly every single day in the studio because I have a day job and a family. What do you do when the creative well runs dry? Schedule time to recharge with artist dates or something like that.
• Get in a particular show. What are the requirements and deadlines? If it is too late to apply to the 2017 show, how can I get ready for 2018?
• Make $X from art in the upcoming year. Be realistic, but stretch yourself. How do you get your work in front of a particular audience? How do you market/advertise your work? Also, take into consideration your sales cycle. Some people make most of their yearly income right before Christmas.
• Get X followers on a particular social media platform, or X subscribers to my newsletter. While this is specific and measurable, make sure it has a good return on investment and that you’re spending time on the right platform to convert into more sales, leads, signups, whatever it is you’re driving people to.

Put your goals in front of you

I know one artist who created a mood board of all these paintings that inspired her. They were the type of things she wanted to create, herself. By focusing her energy on creating those things, she eventually began to attract commissions to make exactly those type of paintings.

What are your goals?

The real question is, do you have art goals for the coming year? Share in the comments!

The post How to Make 2017 a Killer Year as an Artist appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

Out of a possible 30 days I only got in 10 days

The first few days of the month it took a while to find my groove. I started out working on a painting of Superman that I started for my four-year-old, but that was actually kind of hard for me. Abstract has become my default way of working. Painting superheroes is entirely different.

Then about a week in, I got sick! I don’t know why I forget I tend to get sick almost every November due to the changing seasons and weather. I ended up with a sinus infection as well as pink eye! So I missed a few days from being sick and then just recovering. (I haven’t been this sick in some 11-plus years.) Going forward I need to be more careful about how I budget my time and energy… how do I prepare myself for November physically, and stay in good health?

But on the days that I did get in the studio I got some good work done, especially going into December. Overall I’m pretty happy with the work I did.

What worked?

I’ve discovered that people really like the abstract pieces I do that resemble sunsets or sunrises. The other thing that worked really well was a gold bar motif. I sold a number of small paintings with a similar motif. I don’t know what it is about the gold but people really seem to like it.

Around Thanksgiving I got an idea from my friend Jeff Bertrand to do a bunch of small affordable pieces. He has an entirely different style from mine (pop surrealist cartoon characters and singers and movie stars) so I didn’t feel like I was copying him too much, although he told me to “get my own tots.” 

But it was fun to do about ten eight-by-eight-inch paintings and sell them for $30 each. I did not make a lot of money off it out. In fact I barely broke even. But the goal was to get my art out there. Not to make money. But to get my art on people’s walls. And that worked!

What didn’t work?

I discovered that yellow is a difficult color to work with. Especially when combined with gray and off-white. It looks really sharp if it’s done right, but it’s very difficult to pull off. So my hat is off to Hyunmee Lee who I’ve found and admired on Pinterest.

It is still very difficult to create light in paintings. I think it has something to do with the additive nature of the paint. The more paint you put on, the darker it appears. You can always add more white, but sometimes the white can be blinding. It’s all about striking a balance between the light and the dark. That’s something I’m learning, and I’ve been painting for years.

Videos to come

I still have a number of time lapse videos to put together. I have the raw footage on my iPhone but I haven’t stitched any of it together yet. So be on the lookout for time lapse painting videos in the next few weeks.

The post Recapping Art Every Day Month 2016 (#AEDM2016) appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

Unfortunately I haven’t been as productive as I had hoped to be. I got sick at the first of the month, which seems to be in keeping with my usual track record for November. It doesn’t seem to matter what the weather is doing, but something about this time of year always takes a toll on me. I’m looking into preventative measures to combat this in the coming year.

Anyway, this month I have done some work on the small Superman painting I started for my son back in the summer.

It’s been fun to do, but something of a challenge because the details are entirely different from the abstract landscapes I’ve been creating the past several years.

It’s been unseasonably warm, so I took the opportunity to go outside and work on some sketches for painting ideas. You can see echoes of my overpasses and bridges in these as well as some of the fog I’ve been obsessed with the past few years.

I’m really looking forward to expressing this on canvas soon.

I actually dreamed about painting the bottom one. The dark areas were black but as the paint ran out it turned pinkish. It sounds pretty different for me but right in line with the kind of stuff I like to do.

It’s been slow going this year. I’m thinking I may do another art every day month in the middle of the summer, when I’m less likely to get sick. My kids will be able to get in on the fun, too, since they won’t have to go to bed early for school the next day.

The post #AEDM2016 Mid-month report appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

There are several painters who do a really good job of creating this moody, foggy, hazy ambience in their paintings. Here are four. Well, three. The fourth one creates a mood, but not through atmosphere.

J. M. W. Turner

Smog was already a problem in London in Turner’s day (1775-1851), and his hazy work inspired Monet and Whisler, most notably Turner’s “Nocturne in Blue and Gold: the Falling Rocket” (1875) which resulted in Whisler’s libel suit with art critic John Ruskin.

Maurice Sapiro

Maurice Sapiro “Mauve And Gold” oil on canvas 20 × 20 in

Maurice Sapiro “Sunset, Reflected” 38 × 32 in

I discovered Maurice Sapiro on Pinterest a few years ago and have been just blown away by this prolific painter. His landscapes (waterscapes?) are an explosion of reds and oranges accented with tiny bursts of turquoise.

Shane Miller

Shane Miller is a friend of mine. He lives and works in the Nashville area, and lately has been covering his paintings with beeswax, which further increases the misty, milky feel. I plan on visiting his studio soon. He paints from his imagination.

Edward Hopper

Now this is a different kind of mood. Hopper’s paintings don’t have the hazy, atmospheric quality of the others mentioned above. There’s something rather lonely about them. His paintings often convey a palpable tension that makes me wonder what Steinbeck would have created if he had been a painter from the east coast instead of a writer from California. It would probably be a lot like Hopper’s work.

Where Do I Fall?

Good question. I have done a painting that I feel looks like a bad copy of Sapiro’s sunset piece shown above. One thing I can say is that painting haze is a lot harder than it looks. Although you can try watching a Bob Ross video on Netflix or YouTube to see how to lightly drag a fan brush over wet paint to smooth it out a bit. 

The post 4 Amazing Artists Who Create Stunning, Moody Atmosphere appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

I haven’t been in the studio since July.

Yeah. I know. It’s driving me crazy.

I threw out my back the last week that I was preparing those paintings to hang in Erabellum for the August Art Crawl. I was able to finish them up and hang them in the gallery, but I never got back to the studio after that.

Then, the kids started school. My freelance design work and day job got really busy. Next, we took the kids to the beach for fall break.

Suddenly it is almost November, which means Art Every Day Monthis upon us. The prospect of working on art every day for a month is a welcome one for me.

I’m so ready to get back in the studio.

This will be my fourth year to participate in Art Every Day Month.

Nope, that’s not how it works.

You don’t work out three times as long one day and say that workout counts for the next three days. The same goes for your art. You’re only going to see change when you put in the work regularly. (I’m preaching to myself, here.)

I discovered abstraction in 2014

That formula worked.

I discovered how much I love abstraction and how freeing it is to let the paint do what it wants.

Rock-and-Roll in 2015

And all that bleakness showed up in my painting.

A concerted effort to bring back the color in 2016

That brings us to 2016. What will I do for Art Every Day Month this year? I’ve been working hard to bring color back to my paintings, and I think I’ve succeeded. I’m happy with where it is going, but there is still a lot to be done to shape it into something I am really happy with and excited to share with everyone.

I’ve had a lot of ideas knocking around in my head lately. Recently I wrote about how I’m inspired by several things right now. Do I paint fog/haze? Pure abstraction? Expressive forms? Flyovers? Bright colors or a limited/analogous palette? Use sacred geometry? Something inspired by lazy pressure-washing on the sidewalks?

I wonder if there is a way to combine all of those things. Would all of those things make the art confusing? Fog and bright colors don’t really go together. Or do they? That’s the beauty of art. The beauty of beauty itself. Contradiction and paradox are wonderful things, because they tease and stimulate the mind.

To prepare, I’ve done sketches over the past few months. They don’t look like much right now, but for me, that’s enough to get something started. I’ve found it is best to simply start with the kernel of an idea. Trying to control the outcome of a canvas is counterproductive. A single idea like a shape or a color or something like that is enough for me.

I’ve also been adding to several Pinterest boards. Pinterest is visual candy for me. I love how it recommends things based on what I’ve pinned before. It keeps showing me more abstract expressionist paintings, and images of fog, people working on giant canvases, and the like. And when Timehop shows me old Instagrams and I decide I still like them, I will throw them into a private board as fodder for painting ideas.

So, what will I paint in November?

I’ll post weekly progress reports here on the blog, but if you want daily email updates during Art Every Day Month 2016, sign up here. (If you already get my email newsletter, this is a separate email that I’ll send out.)

And of course I’ll update my Instagram and Snapchat accounts as often as I think to.

Are you participating in AEDM16?

The post How to Prepare for an Amazing Art Every Day Month appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

Two Approaches to Color

Analytical Color

Josef Albers

Josef Albers did a lot over his career, but what really stands out for me is his series “Homage to the Square” that explored color relationships within a simple standard framework.

Several of Albers’ paintings of nested squares that explored color relationships.

My own college professors mimicked Albers’ methods for teaching color theory. We did this exact exercise. The two little squares are the same color, but appear very different from each other due to the surrounding colors. The same for the gray box inside the mint green and aubergine rectangles.

Claude Monet

I’ve mentioned this before. Monet painted more than 30 studies of the Rouen Cathedral in 1892 and 1893, exploring the effects of light, weather, and atmosphere on color. Monet essentially used the scientific method since he worked with a constant — the same building viewed from the same vantage point — and saw the effect of variable weather conditions to produce a different color outcome every time. I imagine this later inspired Andy Warhol’s screenprints of such stars as Marilyn Monroe.

Emotional Color

Vincent van Gogh

Color had immense emotional weight for Vincent van Gogh. When he uses blue, it’s calm, peaceful, and sometimes a terrifying void. His reds are hot and oppressive and muggy and dangerous. His yellows portend something ominous.

Mark Rothko

Rothko painted in fields of color on an immense scale, using a technique where brushstrokes were not visible. He painted the inner reality of emotions by way of color. His abstract paintings were often six or eight feet tall.

I have yet to see a Rothko in person, but I have heard it is a truly transcendent experience to be in the presence of his paintings. Someday I hope to visit the Rothko Chapel.

I’d also love to travel to London to see his Segrams Murals at the Tate.

Applying All This

Who are your favorite artists in terms of color? Please share in the comments, or shoot me an email.

The post Inspiring Painters: Color appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

A few years later, I graduated to a small drafting table, complete with an adjustable angle. I kept my drawing tools in a caddy on top of a file cabinet. I drew comics.

I don’t have any of that stuff now, but it was great to have my own little spot to draw in. It was my own little world.

A Dedicated Space

What was great about it was it was a dedicated spot for making my art. I think that’s important for anyone pursuing anything creative. Just like arriving at the office puts you in a frame of mind to get work done, or even putting on your gym clothes can mentally prepare you to work out. Settling in to your work space can get you ready to do your work.

Your workspace might be in the living room, and you set up your easel after everyone else in the family has gone to bed. Maybe you draw at the kitchen table. Or set up an easel in your apartment’s kitchen and turn on the exhaust fan while you paint with oils and hope the landlord doesn’t find out. If you’re lucky, you might have a spare room to turn into your studio. Or a backyard shed!

Sure, I’d love to have a huge studio with gorgeous lighting like the things I find on Pinterest. (Yes, I have a whole Pinterest board that is just pictures of amazing art studios. I know. It might be a problem.)

Even if you have to set up and tear it down every day, carve out your space and make it yours. Because having a dedicated space will help you get in the zone and stay there. Put up quotes and photos of things that inspire you and make you want to do your best work. If you’re right-handed put your brushes, pens, paints, whatever on the right side so you’re not reaching across to get to things.

The idea is to make it a place you are comfortable and ready to activate the creative side of your brain.

What Not To Do

It’s entirely up to you to go around lighting candles and putting on great music and all that. Personally, I think that would be more of a distraction and, if we’re honest, really another way of procrastinating. Remember that time on The Simpsons when Lisa decided to write a book? (The Book Job)

Yeah, she got sidetracked trying to make everything just right. Meanwhile, her dad and brother and a bunch of other people managed to write a best-seller in shorter time. But that’s beside the point. The point is to not get distracted trying to make your work area “perfect” but to just go ahead and do the work.

All right, so what can you do right now?

Without going into a lot of detail, the first few things that come to mind are things like the following:

• Find a corner and set up a table or easel there. It doesn’t have to be fancy!
• Convert a spare room into your studio
• Use part of the guest bedroom
• Your former “dump zone” (you know exactly what I’m talking about.)
• Convert the dining room and eat in the kitchen instead
• Take over the garage (make sure you have proper heating, cooling, and ventilation)
• Get a nifty table that can fold up and store things
• Use a cart to store your supplies on, which can easily be moved around

My point is that there are a lot of ways you can set up a studio. And if you are on the move, carefully set up your bag, pouch, box, whatever you carry around, so you have just what you need and no more, so that you can make your art anywhere.

My question to you:

What are you doing to make a space to work?

The post How to Create a Studio Space appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

Color

The thing that has inspired me the most over the years is color. Even in my “gray” period, as it were, I’ve been inspired by color. My grays were often made by mixing blue and brown, which are essentially complementary colors since brown is really a dark orange. I’m fascinated by how complementary colors interact with each other. I’ve always had something of an obsession with blue and orange.

Reaching She Ascended, Descended 2016. Acrylic on canvas, 24 x 36 inches

This painting I worked in recently underscores my fascination with orange and blue. I’ve discovered it also looks really cool under a black light and with 3D glasses! Trippy!

Bridges, Overpasses, Architectural Structures

I’ve been fascinated by bridges and overpasses for the past few years. I felt I had maxed out on painting these realistically. I probably didn’t max out on that, but I certainly got bored with them. Now, however, I am looking for ways to reintroduce flyovers and such in an abstract manner.

That set of nine paintings I did all at once had swooping blue and orange arcs in the early stages. As the paintings evolved, those arcs disappeared behind colorful, hard-edged forms. Paintings can and will take on a life of their own. My job is to respect what the paintings want to become.

Concrete

Perhaps in a spinoff of my fascination with architectural structures is concrete. Most specifically the way concrete stains and weathers over the years. And most recently I’ve “discovered” poorly pressure-washed concrete that has swirl patterns that are almost calligraphic.This painting was inspired by the lazy pressure washing I’ve seen on the sidewalks during my lunchtime walks.

Pressure, 2016. Acrylic on canvas. 20 x 20 inches.

Fog

Fog is a bit tricky to paint. I’ve not painted it in a while, but I enjoy the challenge, so look for it showing back up in my art soon. Don’t be surprised if I start mixing hazy forms and hard-edged forms in future paintings. Paintings don’t have to be crisp in all places at once. Blur some areas and sharpen the focus in others.

Morning Fog, 2014. Oil on canvas board. 14 x 11 inches.

Geometry

When I saw the Salvador Dali exhibit at the High Museum a few years ago, I bought a book about “sacred geometry,” titled The Geometry of Art and Life. While I don’t go overlaying lines on everything the way some people do, I am intrigued by how it works. What happens when you draw circles and rectangles and triangles and subdivide them? So I’m drawn to pure abstract shapes like triangles, circles, and the like.

Loose abstract expressionism/impressionism

This seems to be where my most current work has been, in a sort of general, loose abstract expressionism. I love making art that conveys a mood with abstract forms rather than trying to represent the physical world. I think of it as that inner landscape represented on canvas.

Muscadine, 2016. acrylic on canvas, 11 x 14 inches

It’s a Journey

There are a lot of different things I want to explore in paint, and some days I’m not really sure how to put it on canvas. I keep sketching a lot of things. But when I paint it often turns into something very different. I have to remind myself to be open to that, but I’m learning that there is a certain amount of control I have that I can’t give up. But in the end I’m enjoying the journey and learning things along the way and sharing what I’ve learned and that’s what it’s all about.

The post Where Do I Find Painting Inspiration Right Now? appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

The problem is, having a full-time job makes it difficult to find the time and energy to make art. In addition to spending time in the studio, you have to promote your work and show your work and deal with the business side of things.

But how do you work around your day job?

Something I’ve done in the past is create an ideal week schedule. My friend Dave Delaney has a version of this that he calls the #KillerCalendar. Mine is similar.

What you do is create a new calendar in Google Calendar with events that recur every week (or whatever frequency works best for you). When you add new events or commitments, turn your ideal calendar on or off in Google Calendar and you can see whether your appointments line up wth it or not.

But first…

It really comes down to 2 things: discipline and a schedule. Know what is worth sacrificing so you can make gains as an artist, and be willing to live with those sacrifices. If you tie these things together you’ll find the result very rewarding.

Let’s say you want to devote your Saturdays to working in the studio. But Friday night your friends want to go out. So you do… and don’t get home until really late. Next thing you know, you sleep until noon, and you don’t get started in the studio until 3 in the afternoon, and then your friends call wanting to go out again.

Maybe you should have told your friends on Friday, “hey how about tomorrow night instead,” gone to bed early, put in a full day’s work in the studio Saturday and thencelebrated your hard work by hanging out with your friends.

What are you committed to?

Forgoing sleep to make art?

Not getting enough rest will only make you less productive. Some people see their lack of sleep as a badge of honor. “I’m more dedicated to my job/craft/whatever because I got fewer hours of sleep than you did.”

That’s insane.

There are better things to give up. As I said earlier, giving up Netflix is something I can deal with. For you it might be going out for drinks with your friends.

I don’t think sleep is one of the things you should give up since that is sacrificing your health. It’s not a very good trade-off. Yes, you are gonna have to sacrifice something at some point, but consider what are you getting in return.

(And if your friends complain that you’re not fun anymore because you’re spending time in the studio instead of spending time with them, maybe you need better friends who support what you are doing!)

Try something. See what works.

For one month, try getting up an hour earlier (and going to bed an hour earlier) and work on your craft before going to your day job.

You might have to change mediums to something that works better with your time constraints. If you paint in oils, you might need to switch to acrylics for a while. (That’s what I did.)

If you write, try haiku or 300-word blog posts.

The trick is to commit to regular practice that works with your time constraints.

Over to you

Header photo via Unsplash

The post How to Make Art with a Day Job appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

A few years back, I bought a book called Why Are You Creative? (2002). The premise is that filmmaker Hermann Vaske interviewed a bunch of different artists, musicians, filmmakers, writers, actors, and the like. It was about the time I started hearing the word “creative” used as an abbreviation for “creative professional.”

It’s been a while since I read it, but I recall that there were three main types of responses to the titular question, “why are you creative?”:

1. I don’t really have a choice in the matter because this is how I’m wired and it’s just the way I am, and I don’t know any other way to operate than to create things.
2. It’s human nature. It’s a natural response to our environment.
3. I didn’t know I was creative. I have no idea why I am creative.

Start at the beginning

I speculate that my artistic ability grew as a response to being unable to communicate verbally so I figured out how to compensate for it by communicating visually. So I think it was partially a matter of circumstance since I did not get hearing aids until I was 2 years old.

It was a response to my environment.

My family background

My grandmother on my mom’s side was terrific at sewing and flower-arranging. That’s creative work since you’re taking all these different elements and putting them together in a way that is aesthetically pleasing, in manner that surprises and delights people. Sewing is functional but very creative since it integrates creative expression with color, form, texture, line, volume, and all the elements of design. Even if you’re using a pattern that someone else made you are putting your own mark on it.

My mom’s dad was also a preacher. When he wasn’t doing ministry he loved to paint watercolors in his down time. He painted a lot of rural scenes. I bet it’s because he grew up in a boarding house in East Nashville and wished he lived in the country. I remember when we would take our annual trip to Cumberland Mountain State Park, we’d rent a cabin and he’d set up a corner where he painted barns and chickens and flowers and such. He worked hard at it and took classes and read books.

So I come from an artistic, creative family.

But being an artist is something I knew all along

I just looked up and said, “I am an artist.”

I knew this way back then. I already was an artist. It wasn’t a matter of someday. I already was.

I love how children don’t make a distinction between someday and now. For children there is only the present.

That’s such a powerful lesson for us as adults.

As artists.

I think we lose a certain kind of intelligence as we grow up. We become so “informed,” but I think kids have a powerful, intuitive recognition of The Truth. They know what’s real. There’s no fooling them.

So whenever I doubt myself, I just look at 7-year-old me. Or I look at my own 7-year-old. She knows she’s an artist, a writer, a dreamer. (Right now she is writing a hilarious story about a girl whose tongue turns green and gives her special powers. And it started the other night when I gave her a new blank sketchbook, and we were eating spinach with our dinner.)

Is it just how I am wired?

I mean, I can point at all these influencing factors: I’m deaf, and I come from a creative family that always encouraged whatever I was into at the time.

But I think in a very real sense I think it’s hard-wired into me. I think it’s part of human nature, how God made us. When you open the Bible to the first page, in the book of Genesis, you see the first thing God does is He creates everything.

We call God the Creator.

I think it’s significant that in virtually every religion, you have some concept of a Creator. I believe that is where we get our creative impulse, because we are made in the image of God and one of the things God does is he creates.

So why am I an artist?

I can’t imagine not making art.

I can’t imagine not creating.

If I’m not painting, I’m drawing something. Or I’m writing something. Or I’m playing with my kids and building Legos with them. Or helping them make a blanket fort. Creativity is using your imagination, transforming this blanket into something else.

I think creativity is fundamental to what makes us human.

Over to you

The post Why I Am an Artist appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

I’ve never done anything quite like this before.

What I’ve done differently about this set of paintings is I’ve created everything all at once. I usually work on one piece at a time. But this time, I laid out nine canvases on a big big drop cloth, and got to work on all of them at once.

Because they are being developed simultaneously, they all have a lot of the same colors and similar compositions that somewhat carry into each other from one canvas to another.

Part of that is because when I started, I made lines ran from canvas to canvas, but as I built them up, they took on their own compositions.

While the canvases are all being developed at the same time, I am developing each canvas individually. The result is really a small body of work where the pieces are all connected not necessarily by their adjoining areas but in terms of color and mood. Each piece will have something about it that stands out from the others. One color is be more dominant on one than another, but there is a common constant visual theme throughout. I am really excited about this project!

I think I like this technique: it’s fast.

And yes, there’s a downside.

Slowing down is good, too.

Stay tuned for the final result for this new work! If you can’t make it to Erabellum in the Arcade this Saturday night, to see the work in person, watch this space for the final work with some more time lapse goodness. (Feel free to subscribe to my emails so you can know when I get it posted.)

The post Gearing Up for the August Art Crawl appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

Every Painting Looks Terrible at Some Point

Well, a few months ago, I painted something that was a total flop. I finished it and I hated it. But I pretty quickly knew exactly that went wrong with it.

Every painting – usually right before I finish it – feels like an utter disaster. I say To myself, “this is awful, this is terrible.” Most of the time I’m able to correct it or see it through to completion. But not this one. I did everything wrong.

Wrong Every Step of the Way

It was late one Friday night. The family had all gone to bed. I knew I wanted to get in the studio because I had the itch to paint something. I was exhausted, but I went in the studio anyway. I think I started about 11:30 at night. I got off to a late start because I had been goofing off on the internet instead.

I wanted to adapt a friend’s Instagram photo from his trip to Iceland. It was a beautiful, austere image of some rocky, snowy mountains in the far distance. Very minimal, very powerful! very Nordic in the best sense of the word. The sky was dark. If you weren’t careful, you’d miss the mountains and the field of snow. It was a scene of subtle power.

This was right after I announced I wanted to get away from all the dark tones, but they crept back anyway. Plus, I wanted to make the work my own. So instead of aping the gray tones of the original photo, it somehow turned blood red.

For some reason I decided to broadcast it on Blab.im.

I was spending more time dealing with trolls than painting. Somebody was trying to be a troll about my name, asking me why I was white, because my name is Blackman.

I was too tired to even deal with it. I just thought, ‘dude go away, you’re bothering me, leave me alone.” It’s hard to talk and paint when you’re not used to it, or not doing a demo that doesn’t require a lot of thought. I was too tired to realize I was being trolled until later.

The final result:

It’s okay, but I don’t feel like it’s my best work, either. It’s certainly not what I was going for.

A day or two later, I made some observations and realized what I had done wrong, and thus had some new tools for doing it better the next time.

Lessons learned:

1. You can’t waste time on the Internet and expect to do great work.
2. Don’t get started when you’re really tired. Some ppl work best at 11:30 at night. Well, I don’t. I’m not sure what my best time to work is. But I can tell you it’s not late at night.
3. Have some idea of what you’re going to do before you get started. You don’t have to know everything, and I’d advise against knowing everything because that doesn’t allow for improvisation, but at least have an inkling of what you want to do. I hadn’t planned very well.

I went to bed feeling like a failure that night. But I shouldn’t have.

The reality is I should have recognized my own low energy level and just gone to bed. There are times when you push through your blocks. At other times you just say, “this is not the right time for that.”

That wasn’t a block. That was exhaustion. I probably could’ve done better if I had gone to sleep and thought more carefully about what I was going to paint.

Failure is a Better Teacher than Success.

Every failure has a lesson, and you can learn a lot that way. What are some things you’ve failed at and learned from?

The post What I Learned from a Bad Painting appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

Yeah, I’ve wondered this, too.

After mulling this over for a while, I’ve come up with 4 factors that influence your sales: your style, your inventory, your fame, and your price.

1. Your Style Isn’t Recognizable

When you think of an artist like Alexander Calder, you think of mobiles made with organic geometric shapes in black and red. The ultimate in Midcentury Modern.

When you think of Frank Stella, you think of huge abstract-geometric paintings with carefully drawn lines.

When you think of Salvador Dali, you think of perfect blue skies over golden dreamscapes populated with melting clocks and bizarre dream imagery where time and memory are distorted and jumbled.

When you think of Mary Cassatt, you think of tender scenes of mothers and children.

If your style is all over the place, people won’t be able to identify your work. Some artists might feel like they are being pigeonholed or labeled, but it makes your work easier to sell if it is recognizable. People need to be able to identify your work.

If your work isn’t recognizable, you might sell a few one or two pieces here and there, but you won’t be very collectable, because you won’t have a distinctive body of work.

2. You don’t have enough “inventory”

When I talk about inventory, I mean your body of work. Your body of work needs to be cohesive: a collection of artworks that clearly go together. There will be some kind of continuity between them. There needs to be breadth and depth and all look like it came from the same artist.

If you’re a sporadic artist, you won’t have enough work to sell. You have to produce a lot in order to sell a lot. It’s really that simple. And the more you produce, the better you get and the more recognizable your style will become. In turn, your work is more likely to sell just on recognition, which translates to fame. More on this in a minute.

3. How Famous Are You?

Andy Warhol is reported to have said that, “In the future, everyone will be famous for 15 minutes.” And somebody, somewhere, perhaps Seth Godin, said that now in the internet age, we are all famous to 15 people.

The point is, the average person is “famous” to somebody. Every time you post something on Facebook, the same set of people are likely see that and pay attention to it. And yes, it’s probably your relatives and close friends. So in a sense, you are already famous! You have people who like seeing what you are doing. It’s just that that number might be very small. But it doesn’t have to be enormous, either.

This is where the idea of 1,000 True Fans comes into play. If you have 1,000 people buying $100 worth of your stuff each year, you’re making $100,000 a year. Granted, half of that goes to taxes and then another big chunk goes to overhead, but it is a good enough place to start make a living for most people.

And for fine artists it may be more like 10 True Fans buying $1,000 of your work every year since. That sounds like a tremendous opportunity to really get to know your fans.

4. Is the Price Right?

Materials and Overhead

You have to pay for your materials and overhead before you can sell your art: canvas, paint, varnish, clay, stone, tools or utensils, stretcher bars, studio rent, utilities, furniture (such as easels and work tables), and operating costs such as photography and everything involved in marketing your work such as a website and any advertising you might do.

Time and Effort

When you start out, it might make sense to base your pricing on your hours or the size of your work. But the bottom line is you have to pay yourself for your time and effort. If you’re good at what you do, charging hourly for your work punishes efficiency.

An experienced artist might be able to produce a fantastic painting in fraction of the time it takes a beginner to produce something at a lesser level or even the same level. I have produced fantastic paintings that took just a few hours and others that took 20 hours or more.

If I were hiring somebody to do a website, I wouldn’t care how many hours it takes them as long as they do it. I’d say, “Here’s $X,000, go do it.” Not: “Here’s $X,000, do it in XX hours.” The developer of course will make sure the time spent is appropriately in line with his or her skill, whether it is 20 hours or 2. For all I know, they already spent 300 hours creating a customizable product that only takes 15 minutes to set up.

Skill Level

Paintings executed with a higher level of skill are much more likely to be more expensive. And the more skilled the artist, the faster that artist is likely to complete the paintings, so in effect it is a dramatically higher hourly rate. You’re paying for experience and expertise. A 30-year veteran knows a lot more about painting than someone who just picked it up last week. Someone with this much skill is likely to produce a higher-quality piece of work.

The More Famous You Are, the More You Can Charge for Your Work

Damien Hirst, The Physical Impossibility of Death in the Mind of Someone Living, 1991. Glass, painted steel, silicone, monofilament, shark and formaldehyde solution, 2170 x 5420 x 1800 mm | 85.5 x 213.4 x 70.9 in.

As you grow your fame or notoriety, you can charge for it. Damien Hirst and Jeff Koons are pretty famous in the contemporary art world. They made a splash 20-something years ago and continue to do so. Jeff Koons can mass-produce a gazing ball and sell it for a lot of money. Is it simply because he is a famous contemporary artist? Maybe. There is some skill involved, but I suspect the greatest skill is a keen sense of marketing and knowing what people will buy as well as being famous for being famous in a particular niche.

People buy name recognition. Why do you think fashion labels are so successful and go plastering their logo on their products?

So. What Does This Have to Do With My Work?

With these factors in mind, let’s take a look at my own work.

I’ve been painting since 1999. But I haven’t sold very many paintings. My sales have been pretty much nonexistent, averaging less than one a year. Pretty sad, huh? Yeah, kinda. But I think I can see why this is the case.

Style

Inventory

My practice is not consistent enough to produce work on a regular basis, which might explain for the scattered quality and varied styles. The obvious thing is to develop a more regular and disciplined practice of creating art.

In other words, I think I need to fail faster. Go for quantity over quality.

Price

Fame

But this is why my friend Jeff talks about why it’s okay that nobody has heard of you. Embrace your invisibility so you can get better faster while the world isn’t watching.

Finally, I don’t think I’m getting it out there like I should. I’m trying to figure out how to market it. People can’t buy my art if they don’t know about it. Since I’m unknown, I’m not famous.

What’s Next

I know exactly what I need to be doing now. It all starts with a regular studio practice. Once I get that ball rolling, I’ll eventually be able to start selling my art on a regular basis, probably in the next few years.

What About You?

The post 4 Reasons Your Art Is Not Selling appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

To look back is a chance to predict where your trajectory goes. Maybe you like where you’re going. On the other hand, if you don’t like that path, you can change course.

Building Bridges

Overpass, 2003. Oil on canvas, 24 x 30 inches

I began recreating those on canvas in exaggerated color, eventually highlighting the textures and decay in the concrete texture.

I also used exaggerated colors in portraits of my friends.

Jennabeth, 2003. oil on canvas, 22 x 22 inches

I would make reference photos with my Canon SLR, get the film developed, scan the prints into Photoshop, manipulate the colors, and print them on the big color printer at work. Often I would make a grid on my printout to more easily transfer the image onto canvas. That was my process.

Dorm Room Conversations Expressed on Canvas

In our hubris, we keep building monuments to ourselves, but nature erodes them. Our grand buildings and structures inevitably fall apart.

It sounds like the stuff of dorm room conversations, and since I was right out of school, that’s about right. (I miss those late-night philosophical discussions about the meaning of life. Those were the best conversations ever.)

Melrose II, 2004. Oil on canvas, 30 x 30 inches

Eventually, I felt like I maxed out on bridges. I had made somewhat of a name for myself painting bridges, but I got tired of it and I don’t like painting the same thing over and over, so I felt like I had said everything I could say about it. I got bored.

I wanted to pursue a sort of abstract realism, but never quite got the hang of it. The idea was to make a drawing based on real structures, but flattened them with simple colors in paint.

And the Inevitable Burnout

Nashville365 Series, Number 3: Meade, 2011. Oil on canvas, 5 x 7 inches

I gradually transitioned from bridges to downtown facades and urban scenes, but I got bored with that, too. I got tired of the small scale and high level of detail. Yet in the back of my mind I kept coming back to abstraction, but didn’t know how to make that transition in a way that made sense in respect to my previous work. Why would somebody who paints urban landscapes suddenly switch to abstracts? It didn’t make sense in the grand scheme of my work.

It Took a One-Month Challenge to Get Me to Change

I noticed that my new abstracts look like close-ups of the very concrete on those bridges and overpasses.

In fact, I now will go and take pictures of concrete and plaster and stuff like that that’s all weathered and veined. Only now I take those photos on my smartphone and manipulate them with an app like Mextures and not Photoshop. I don’t draw on the canvas, either. I just start with the paint and get going based on a loose concept in my head. And right now the concept usually centers around color and a mood more than anything.

What’s really wild is those loopy lines from those flyovers are starting to come back. I like the big, long curves of flyovers. It makes for such an interesting abstract form when flattened onto canvas.

What’s Old is New Again

Interchange, 2004. oil on canvas, 30 x 40 inches

Bend, 2016. Acrylic on canvas, 14 x 11 inches

So I have started incorporating bridge-like structures back into my paintings. It’s been fun bringing this back into my paintings after all these years.

Even though I went kind of “gray” for a while, I’m excited to bring back the colors and forms that got me so fired up about painting some 14 years ago. Fortunately I think this is something I can keep doing a lot longer.

Will I still be doing that 14 years from now? I have no idea. But if the past is any indication, there will at least be some part of that concept in my work.

The post What Does My Past Say About My Future? appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

I went to a liberal arts school and loved it.

I loved my 4 years at Harding. I would gotten a lot out of AI Atlanta or SCAD or RISD, but instead I went to Harding University, a Church of Christ-affiliated liberal arts college. And I’m glad I did.

I got to interact with a lot of different majors and types of people. I had friends who were theatre majors, English majors, math majors, and more. I got to know people from all walks of campus life. I know college students are their own demographic, but there are so many subgroups on campus.

Memories are made outside the classroom

I gotta say the best parts of my college experience were not so much what happened in the classroom but what happened out of the classroom. Getting to hang out with my fellow art majors just to get something eat or hang out in the dorm. Late night excursions to Taco Bell or the Bulldog in Bald Knob for a hamburger.

And how can I forget the hours I spent at Midnight Oil Coffeehouse?

From their opening week my freshman year until the time I graduated, I was a regular there. Remember Norm on Cheers? That was Midnight Oil for me.

I went there for Bible studies. I hung out with friends. I took dates there. I studied and read and sketched. I loved it so much that did a couple of paintings of the interior. Those beat-up walls. The cool art. Friends setting up to play acoustic sets. That ugly old sofa that everyone loved. This was before Starbucks was everywhere, so Midnight Oil had snarky signs explaining that this was “real” cappuccino, not the kind you find in gas stations.

There was a lot of stuff to do despite living in a small college town in the middle of nowhere.

The funniest off-campus experience I had was when about five of us graphic design majors decided to try the taekwondo studio that was giving free lessons.I attempted to deliver a kick. As I did so, I broke wind.

My eyes bugged out of my head, and we just about all collapsed in giggles.

It was a complete accident but it was hilarious.

There was a group of five-year-olds practicing their moves with their game faces on. They could probably take us all down without breaking a sweat, and we 20-year-olds were giggling because somebody (yours truly) farted.

What I wish I had done differently

My only regrets are that I did not stick around at least one or two more semesters to add some more studies to my repertoire. I wish I had earned a painting minor. Or maybe a second major. (I have a BFA in Graphic Design. I love graphic design, but I love painting even more.) Or a minor in marketing or business.But I was ready to graduate and be done with school. I was ready for the next phase. But I wasn’t prepared for it.

Advice for art majors

I encourage art majors to get a minor in business or marketing. Every artist or graphic designer will have to know how to brand and market herself. At some point you’re going to work for yourself, whether you want to or not! Knowing how to run a business is a must. At the very least, you’ll be running a side gig at some point. I’ve been laid off from two full-time graphic design jobs, and having that freelance design side hustle really paid off. So well, in fact, that when I got laid off a year ago, my side hustle very nearly became a full-time gig before someone offered me a great full-time job as a graphic designer.There is a lot you learn on the job but learning it in the classroom can get you there faster. And the connections you make have the potential to last a lifetime.

The post Advice for Art Majors: How I Would Do College Differently appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

Back in January 2016, I participated in the First Saturday Art Crawl by hanging some work in Erabellum Gallery in the Arcade. When I saw all my work together on the wall, I was stunned at how dark everything was.

This was about the time I resolved to get more color and life into my work.

By the time the April 2016 Art Crawl rolled around, I had my chance to show some new pieces I had created that were colorful and broke away from the “dark horizons” I had been doing the past couple of years. I don’t know if I just get bored easily, but I do think it was time to experiment with color again.

I had to carve out some time to get in the studio and explore some new ideas to supplement last year’s work. I was pretty happy with the result. You can see how it looked on the wall here.

New work up at @erabellum in the arcade! Come say hey if you're at the #FirstSaturdayArtCrawl

A post shared by Brad Blackman (@bradblackman) on Apr 2, 2016 at 4:18pm PDT

Pressure, 2016. acrylic on canvas, 20×20 inches

Bend, 2016. acrylic on canvas, 14 x 11 inches

Scattered, 2016. acrylic on canvas, 16 x 20 inches

I wound up donating two of these to the Music City Derby Day silent auction.

As of right now I’m planning on participating in the August Art Crawl. I’d love to participate in the July Art Crawl, but don’t have the time or the space to work on the pieces I have in mind to have new work ready in time, so I’m shooting for August. I have some ideas I can’t wait to try out. I’m thinking even larger next time, with a more cohesive set of works.

The post My Painting was Drab and Dark, So I Did Something About It appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

A few years ago I had the opportunity to join their board, and I have always felt it was a chance for me to help others since others have helped me.

Last weekend we had our third annual Music City Derby Day event, and we raised $55,000, an agency record. I’m happy to say that I contributed two paintings to the silent auction. Sure, it’s fun to get all dressed up, sip mint juleps, watch a horse race, participate in a silly version of croquet, but it’s even more fun to do it all for a good cause.

I put in some recent pieces that I painted a few months ago:

“Bend” acrylic on canvas. 14 x 11 inches. 2016

I was excited to put something this colorful and lively in the silent auction. For me this piece is about embracing life and building connections.

“Pressure” acrylic on canvas. 20 x 20 inches. 2016

These gold swirls on a neutral background with a teal undertone were actually inspired by some lazy pressure-washing I saw on the sidewalk one day. I love reinterpreting ordinary things as something unusual and exciting and even glamorous.

It was great to be part of this awesome cause again. Plus I got to meet some really cool people. Former boy-band singer Evan Farmer was a hilarious emcee, Lucia Folk‘s Russian jockey getup was a hoot, and TSU men’s basketball coach Dana Ford and his wife were as nice as ever.

We all had a great time and I can’t wait for next year.

The post Music City Derby Day 2016: Champing at the Bit for Bridges in Nashville appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

So this year, it’s my goal to paint lighter. I might have to paint dark for a while or from time to time to deal with some things lurking beneath the surface, but my plan overall is to bring back more light and peace into my artwork.

I’ll most likely continue the abstract landscapes I’ve been doing, but with a lighter approach.

It will be a change for me, but I welcome the challenge.

In addition to painting lighter, I want to experiment with video this year. I think video is a great way to look at art and talk about it since it is multi-sensory. You can watch a painting emerge and get a sense of the artist from the way he or she talks about the work.

I’m excited. I hope you are, too. Thanks for being here.

The post Taking Things a New Direction appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

But when the first commercial break came I would go off and pretend the whole house was the U.S.S. Enterprise. I would draw little control panels on paper and stick them all over the house. Every time I walked through a door I made that little “fwee” sound. We were on some sort of mission to save the universe.

I knew practically nothing about the show. Sure, I knew who some the characters were (Riker, Picard, Troy, Geordi) and the Klingons were the bad guys, but that’s about it. Yet it gave me a love for science fiction that I still have to this day.

The important thing is that I was inspired to create and imagine.

Nowadays, I am inspired in a variety of ways.

I can take a fragment of an idea and run with it. The end result might not even resemble the original thing that inspired me. And that’s actually ideal.

It’s said that “good artists borrow and great artists steal” and that the secret to creativity is in concealing your sources.

The point is, you can be inspired anywhere. Here are the places I go:

1. Art Shows/Exhibits

Just immersing myself in art gets me excited and eager to get back in the studio and make my own art.

Maybe I can try a new technique or color palette.

Would a different size or surface work better for me?

Or a series based on … fill-in-the-blank?

2. Meetups with other artists.

People have a lot to share about what works for them and what doesn’t. Don’t be stingy with your knowlege. The world is big enough for all of us. Find ways to promote each other’s work! We could all use more cheerleaders.

All these things I get from the Nashville Creative Group, which my friend Beth started a few years ago. I get a lot from both the online discussions and in-person meetups.

Can’t find a group? Start your own! There are plenty of people out there who would love to talk. We’re social creatures after all.

3. Pinterest

In his Make Better course, he showed us how he follows Twyla Tharp’s concept of “scratching” with a board called “The Scratching Pile.” It’s where he tosses various ideas that he might do something with in the future.

When you first get on Pinterest it will want to import all your Facebook contacts. If you’re like me, you’ll find all those people from high school only pin recipes and workouts. Don’t be afraid to un-follow them. Pinterest is a social network, but it’s not “social” like Facebook. Pinterest is there for your personal inspiration.

My two main boards are “Scratch” and “Haze.” “Scratch” is based on the Twyla Tharp idea with a lot of abstract imagery that gets me excited, and “Haze” is hazy/foggy imagery that jives with my fog direction from the past few years.

(This should be proof that dudes can use Pinterest. Besides, I know guys who have boards devoted to manly stuff like motorcycles and camping.)

So where do you find inspiration, either online or off? Sound off in the comments!

The post 3 Places I Go for Inspiration appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

AEDM is a fun way to challenge yourself to make some art every day for a month. Doing it online builds in accountability. It keeps you motivated, and you see what other people are doing, so you know you aren’t doing it alone. That makes it more fun. You get better at doing art just from the practice.

And focusing my efforts in such a way that I wanted to achieve very specific things allowed me to actually accomplish something. So I set 3 goals. I also learned 3 things.

3 Goals I had for AEDM15:

1. Stay focused on a theme: abstracts inspired by British rock songs Sometimes limitations are an artist’s best friend. I love British rock, and there are a few songs I have wanted to translate to paint for some time. There are a few I didn’t get to. Maybe I will later.

2. Don’t try to paint a new piece every day. Do try to paint daily. It’s just like Like Jerry Seinfeld’s “break the chain” idea. But this isn’t always practical. That said, I did my best to avoid missing two consecutive days. Sometimes that meant I spent only five or ten minutes gessoing or toning a canvas. That was enough for me. Slow progress is still progress. Tweet that.

3. Experiment with painting live on Blab.im. Blab is a new-ish site that allows live video conversations that anyone can join or watch. It’s like Google Hangout without the complexity. It shows you in a Brady-bunch like setup. It created some interesting challenges. More on this in a minute.

3 Things I Learned:

1. I still love doing abstracts. It’s fun to hear what people see in them. Everyone sees something different.

2. British rock is rather dark. Even the “cheerful” stuff. Maybe it’s the stuff I’m drawn to. Or maybe this is characteristic of all rock-and-roll. After all, most rock concerts are held at night, in dark rooms. In my mind, music is almost always performed in the dark, with a piercing spotlight on the musician. Colors emanating from darkness.

3. Painting live online is the same thing as doing a live demo in front of an audience. I have to be able to complete something quickly and talk while painting. I need to work on my lighting and sound for painting live on the Internet

What’s Next?

1. I’m ready to paint something bright. The darkness is so bleak. I want some bright colors and light and hope in my art. There’s a place for the darkness, but I don’t want to live there.

2. I want to experiment with different surfaces. I’m thinking about trying wood and masonite.

3. I need to invest in some sort of simple video setup for doing better painting videos. I also need to come up with some demonstration ideas, things I can whip out in 30 minutes. I’ll probably be studying a lot of Bob Ross videos and other painters who are great at doing demonstrations.

Finally, next year I will probably refrain from blogging about it every day, but stick to just using the hashtag and posting to social media, with a blog post summing up the week or each finished piece. Blogging daily is a lot of work, especially when it is as image-heavy as this.

Did You Participate?

Did you participate in AEDM15 back in November? Or at least follow it online? I hope you did. If you didn’t, I hope you take on a similar challenge at some point. We’ll all be here to cheer you on.

The post Looking Back at #ArtEveryDayMonth2015: 3 Things I Learned appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

I must confess I never heard the Ozzy version until now. I heard the version by The Cardigans around the same time I was listening to Oasis, which would have been the mid-to-late 90s. Both versions are awesome.

It’s a great tune that makes you wonder about vengeance and who has a right to it.

Since iron is usually black but rusts to a reddish-orange color, those were the primary colors I used, with various blues for contrast. The overall image is nonobjective, but you can almost make out a landscape or even a face. My goal was to translate the song “Iron Man” into a visual.

I think I’ve done that.

Video below. (And no, it doesn’t have the actual song because of copyright stuff, even though it is a tribute.)

After all these dark paintings this month, I’m ready to do something bright now.

The post Has He Thoughts Within His Head? Days 27-30 of #ArtEveryDayMonth appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

Lessons learned while painting this:

• “Kashmir” is really, really ominous when you listen to it on repeat.
• Don’t be afraid of texture. Embrace it. But know when to paint smooth and when to reintroduce texture that you painted out.
• I’m tired of brown and blue. Why did I get back into that pattern again after doing it for years and getting tired of it before? Old habits die hard.

The post Pilot of the Storm Who Leaves No Trace: Days 15-24 of #ArtEveryDayMonth appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

Like a lot of people you’re probably looking back to see what you did and didn’t accomplish, and looking forward to ask yourself what you want to accomplish in the upcoming year. It’s only natural to do so with this kind of transition.

In the past around this time of year I have shared my words of the year, whether one, two, or three words. (Here’s where I did that for 2015, 2014 [year-end], 2014, 2013…)

I don’t think I’m going to do that this year.

I just have this gut feeling that sharing all my goals isn’t what I need to do this year.

But what I am doing is 5 Days to Your Best Year Ever from Michael Hyatt. (I don’t have an affiliate link though I probably should.) My wife and I did it last year and loved it. We are doing it again — we are about halfway through it at the moment. It’s a great way to get focus and clarity on what you want to accomplish in the upcoming year.

And share your goals selectively with people who will push you forward and not hate on all the goals you set. Let’s face it: there are people who do just that. Or if they don’t hate on all your goals, they, out of love, really, try to convince you why you shouldn’t try something or why it is unreasonable or too risky.

So share with those who will push you and encourage you. Tweet that.

My wife and I didn’t accomplish all our goals from last year, but the ones we did accomplish we are really glad we did. The important thing is that we got clarity when things went sideways in July and August.

Whether you do Michael Hyatt’s 5 Days to your Best Year Ever or Jon Acuff’s 30 Days of Hustle, do yourself a favor and find a way to set reasonable, actionable goals and find people who will keep you accountable.

I’m pretty excited about 2016. I hope you are, too.

Photo: David Hermans

The post It’s a New Year. Are You Keeping Your Goals to Yourself? appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

I’m excited because it’s been about 7 or 8 years since I’ve shown anything in a gallery. I’m finally finding my voice, my style as a painter and it feels good to get it out there and show people.

If you’re going to be in Nashville for New Year’s, I hope you can make it. I’d love to see you at 61 Arcade just off 5th Avenue of the Arts. I’ll be showing some small abstracts and some of my older Nashville paintings.

See you there!

The post Meet Me at the January 2016 First Saturday Art Crawl! appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

In keeping with the British rock theme, I went with David Bowie’s 1969 hit “Space Oddity.”It’s about an astronaut who gets stranded in space. It was reissued in 1972 with a heavier sound. I prefer the earlier version, which feels more panicked at the end, where Ground Control is unable to reach Major Tom.

Planet Earth is blue, and there’s nothing I can do.

It’s a simple lyric and a simple visual. Major Tom is looking down at Earth, seemingly resigned to his fate. It’s beautiful and scary.

Video Time-Lapse

I started out by dripping pink and orange to contrast with the blue and green I knew would be dominant.

Then I covered it with blue-purple to set the stage for the black skies of outer space.

Next I created the dark sky, the aurora above the Earth, and splattered in the stars.

I got the last part of this on Blab that you can watch if you have some time to kill.

The post Planet Earth is Blue: Days 11-14 of #ArtEveryDayMonth appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

Since there is real texture from the sand-like medium beneath the gesso, I didn’t add the usual splatters. It has plenty of texture and depth on its own.

That wraps this one up.

The post Let’s Wrap It Up [Day 10 of #ArtEveryDayMonth] appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

And it wouldn’t load.

PANIC!

Okay, breathe.

Go find that invoice and pay it.

Now update your email list with a picture of the painting so it still gets out there.

Whew. Now the site loads.

Okay, then! Done and done!

So that’s that. The painting is moving along. I had technical difficulties with the audio while doing the Blab broadcast this morning, but for the most part I think it went well.

I made progress lightening and warming up the foreground of the painting. Got some neat drips going on now.

I’m still a little concerned about the composition. Is it working? You tell me.

I feel like there is a good balance between the warm and cool areas, the areas advancing and receding, and a nice contrast between sharp and fuzzy edges plus a good overlap to tie the close and far-away areas.

Abstract painting still references reality in a lot of ways. This piece very much feels like a surreal landscape.

The post Are We There Yet? [Day 9 of #ArtEveryDayMonth] appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

As far as the painting is concerned, I lightened it up a bit more and cooled down the color some. I think tomorrow I’ll continue the lightening effect but might bring back some of the warm colors. I think the color is working, but how about the composition? Is it cohesive? Is it disjointed?

The post Being Stopped Up Won’t Stop Me – Day 8 of #ArtEveryDayMonth appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

And of course a Hyperlapse:

Oh, and I stole a few minutes on Blab to talk about how I mixed up those grays:

The post Lighten Up – Day 7 of #AEDM15 appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

When it’s finished I’ll reveal which British rock song it’s based on. It might be somewhat obscure to some since I don’t think it was ever a single but it was on a pretty major album in the late 90s. That’s your first clue.

I’m building up a lot of depth with warm and cool tones, bringing the warm tones to the front and pushing the cool tones to the back, but eventually it will probably flatten out quite a bit.

The post Dirty – Day 6 of #ArtEveryDayMonth appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

After last night’s detox bath and early bedtime I woke up feeling great. Got some coffee going and got in the studio around 5:10. I left my hearing aids out and set Blab on mute since I didn’t want to wake anyone with my talking.

First, I mixed up lighter versions of the colors I put down yesterday. The idea was to increase the light areas to give it contrast and depth. Putting light paint over dark areas makes the light even more luminous. (Tweet that.)

Then I mixed up more of the dark and light blues and the dark and light greens as well as a little bit of the orange, and made it all runny so I could splatter it on to give it that little bit of detail. It took some trial and error and wiping and experimenting with different brushes to get the right effect.

My painting professor in college told me that complexity adds interest. It’s not detail for the sake of detail. But that little bit of complexity in the splatters and the light spots makes it interesting.

That detail rewards a closer look.

The post A Luminous Abstract Painting – Day 5 of #ArtEveryDayMonth appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

I got started about 5 a.m. and wrapped up about 6. I started out by brushing out the drips in the top of the canvas, and it started getting really smooth all over. It’s like a whole different painting now.

The land masses above the water line feel like they are enshrouded by fog, and the water has rays of light coming down. The orange masses are still there, primarily as a compositional and color element.

I can’t tell you what the orange things are but I dig them. If you take them away, the entire piece falls flat. They seem to be whatever is underneath the water, like these are floating islands that light up beneath the waves.

I’m pretty happy with it. Basically, everything got smooth today. Tomorrow I plan on bringing back the depth and texture that I love about this piece.

I have a feeling that will wrap it up.

See you tomorrow!

The post Forecast: Foggy – Day 4 of #ArtEveryDayMonth appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

The red and purple canvas made quite a few changes when I started adding the sky of blue and sea of green. Plus some orange forms. No sign of a yellow submarine yet.

Maybe we’re looking out of the yellow submarine?

I worked in two different sessions today. One at 5:30 before everyone got up and then again around 9 or 10 when everyone went to school. Today was a lot of fun!

I captured three different videos:

I recorded an hour-long Blab session, too. Had a fun conversation with someone about painting!

The post AEDM15 Day3: Whoah! appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

Sometimes you have to paint a little, let it dry, and come back much later.

It’s acrylic paint so it was dry pretty soon after I did this, but since I had other things to do I was done for the day. I’m happy to leave it as it is for now but I’m anxious to get to the next stage!

Here’s the hyperlapse on YouTube:

The post Day 2 of #ArtEveryDayMonth (#AEDM15) appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

I started off by “killing the canvas” — a trick I learned some years ago when I read Paul McCartney: Paintings. The idea is to just put down paint on the canvas without giving it too much thought so that you’re not intimidated by the blank canvas.

Since I haven’t painted in a couple of months (I’ve been hustling on freelance work lately) I was in fact a little intimidated.

Also, I was in front of the camera since I broadcast it live on Blab so I felt like I needed to talk the whole time. Which was weird since I usually paint in silence. But after about half an hour I made some progress that I feel good about. I think a few visitors showed up by accident. It seemed most were from overseas, probably due to how early it was here in the States. (6:30 a.m. Central time.)

Watch it on Blab: Day 1 of #ArtEveryDayMonth #AEDM15

I said this year’s AEDM theme for me would be British rock songs. So I’m starting off with “Yellow Submarine” by the Beatles.

Yes, I’ve done a submarine-inspired piece before with my son, but this will be more Beatles-esque. Maybe. I do plan on giving it a “sea of green” in a day or two. Let’s see how this builds up.

Of course I captured a Hyperlapse of the painting session:

If you’re an artist and you want to do a live Blab with me while you’re in the studio, too, you are welcome to join me. Shoot me an email and we can coordinate a time to Blab together.

Is there something you’d like to see me paint? Maybe a British song lyric I should interpret on canvas? Just let me know. Leave a comment and let’s talk.

The post How to Start #ArtEveryDayMonth: Kill the Canvas appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

It’s 2 in the afternoon on Friday, and DST doesn’t officially end until early Sunday morning November 1, but I went ahead and set the clocks back because I have little ones who will be really confused by the time change. Better ease them into it.

And in the meantime, I’m going to get some canvases gessoed today and tomorrow to get ready for Art Every Day Month.

Sunday morning I’ll be up before the sun even with the time change ready to do some art for the day. I’ll be live on Blab.im — so if you want to watch me early in the morning, you can.

I’m not sure how chatty I’ll be that early in the morning, but if you want to tune in, you’re more than welcome. And of course you’ll be able to watch the video afterward. I’ll be sure to record it on the site.

And if you want a refresher on preventing burnout during AEDM, just remember these tips:

1. Have a plan
2. Stick to a schedule
3. Go to bed on time
4. Silence your inner critic by remembering it’s about quantity, not quality.

See you next week!

The post Falling Back into Art Every Day Month appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.

It’s a neat concept. If you break it down into doable chunks of about 1,666 words a day, it’s not as intimidating as it sounds. (For perspective, this post is right around 950 words.) Joe Bunting has a really cool blog post about how to not fail at it.

Again, I love the idea, but I’m not a writer.

So I do Art Every Day Month instead.

This time, I’m going to stick with abstract paintings in acrylic. But here’s the twist: I’m going to use British rock as inspiration for the compositions.

Last year my inspiration was iPhone photography abstracted on canvas. This time, I’m letting British music inspire me. Everything from The Beatles to Britpop.

(Aside: Don’t ask me what’s happened in British rock since the 90s. I think Coldplay is British but they seem to me more a “band that happens to be from Britain.”)

So that’s what I’m doing for AEDM15: abstract paintings inspired by British rock. (Or I might change my mind and do all Star Wars related stuff. Who knows.)

While I’d love to complete a painting every day, I’m allowing myself to complete what I can due to client work and family responsibilities. To do otherwise might burn me out.

It’s easy to burn out and get overwhelmed when tackling any month-long project that is outside your norm. You need a plan. (Tweet that.)

How do you keep from getting burned out and hating yourself at the end of the month? Read on, my friend.

Let’s take a page from Joe Bunting at The Write Practice. Remember his post I mentioned earlier, about how to not fail at NaNoWriMo? Well, we’re going to apply some of the same principles to AEDM.

4 Tips to Keep from Burning Out During Art Every Day Month:

1. Have a plan.

Having even a general vision ahead of time will reduce the stress of creating something. Also, constraints can do a lot to inspire creativity. It helps to have a theme. That’s why I’m focusing on interpreting British rock songs as abstract paintings.

I’ve already drafted a list of British bands/musicians that I’m inspired by, and this week I am writing out a dozen or so songs that I want to paint something for. Then I’ll sketch some thumbnails.

2. Stick to a schedule.

I’m naturally a night owl, but I don’t do my best work late at night. I slow down and might as well be drunk. (Tiredness and drunkenness are practically the same thing.) While it is fun to stay up late I don’t prefer it or recommend it for doing creative work. Early morning is a good time to do good creative work.

Also, don’t have big gaps of days without doing any work. Joe Bunting advises NaNo participants to not have more than 2 skipped days in a row. The first time I did AEDM I was very unfocused and tried to “gang up” my efforts where I did several days’ worth of “work” on my lunch break and then did nothing for two weeks. It was a flop.

3. Go to bed on time.

For me this means no staying up until 1 in the morning watching X-Files on Netflix. This habit started about 10 or 11 years ago when I first had my own place all to myself — no roommate, no parents — I would stay up watching 80s reruns on Nick-at-Night or whatever was on Sci-Fi Channel.

So on October 31, I am deleting the Netflix app off my iPad mini and not reinstalling it until December 1. I may even have my wife change the password to something I can’t guess.

4. Postpone judgement — silence the inner critic

That said, I’m not shooting for a piece a day. I’ve tried that before and it burned me out and I unintentionally went on an 18-month hiatus from making art of any kind.) If what I make is good, great. If not, I just move on and make something else.

The point of #aedm15 is to create every day. If I’ve made art today, it’s been a good day. (Tweet that.)

#AEDM15

The post 4 Tips for Success During Art Every Day Month 2015 appeared first on Brad Blackman Fine Art.