Art du Jour 61

What started out as a serious exploration of watercolour blending quickly turned silly. The left hand side you see here was originally the top, until I held the paper up to let gravity work its magic on the paint flow and this funny sad face appeared. And I found myself enhancing it with a few details.

So if you stand back, it’s just splashes of lovely bright colours. Up close it becomes something which might frighten a small child.

In the many artistic endeavours I’ve come across in the blog world there are some things I really like and some I don’t, and some that don’t particularly move me one way or the other although I can always appreciate the creative process.  Art is a very subjective thing.  And artists are sometimes their own worst critics and very hard on themselves.  Writers are like this too, humbled by what they feel is better work than their own, when it might simply be different – not more or less, not better or worse.

A little humility is a good thing, and working to be better is admirable.  But we should also strive for self-confidence and feeling good about who we are and what we do.  Drawing the line at turning into raving egotistical nut jobs of course.  It’s a fine balance.

All that was a long convoluted way to get to the part where I say positive things about my art. Even when it’s not likely to end up in the Louvre.  Yes, I did just roll my eyes.

I absolutely love these colours, and the hinted at flowers and the splatters of ink.  I love that I’ve learned how too much blending turns into a muddy brown and how I will learn to avoid that in the future.  And I love that I can see faces where they weren’t necessarily meant to be.

Happy Thursday!  I love that I always appear to know what day of the week it is too.  Yay me.

P is for Putto

It’s a mystery to me how I have lived so long without knowing this word.  I also don’t know why I have neglected my Alphabet Soup category since the 23rd of October.  Mine is a life filled with wonder and confusion and maybe I’ll get into all that later, but for now, here’s a picture of a putto, (plural putti) (also known as an amoretto or an amorino when it depicts cupid);  a representation in baroque painting or sculpture of a small chubby naked boy with wings.

Sleeping Putto, by Léon Bazille Perrault, 1882 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

That would be Cupid, right?  Looks like cupid to me.  Or a cherub.  Apparently it’s common to get these things mixed up, and that’s why there’s Wikipedia to help straighten everything out for us:

Art historian Juan Carlos Martinez writes:

Originally, Cherubs and Putti had distinctly different roles, with the former being sacred, and the latter, profane. That is, Cherubs and Seraphs (Cherubim, Seraphim) are Angels, occupying the highest angelic orders in Heaven and are thus the closest to God. On the other hand, Putti, arise from Greco-Roman classical mythos (i.e., non-Christian). They are associated with Eros/Cupid as well as with the Muse, Erato; the muse of lyric and love poetry…

….By the time the Baroque Era came about, which might arguably have been the high point for Cherubim and Putti, both of these little beings were usually being depicted in the same way. Which one they were, simply depended upon the theme of the painting or sculpture: If religious (sacred) – they were Cherubs. If secular or mythic (profane) – they were Putti.

I suppose it depends on the artist whether these putto/cherub illustrations turn out to be beautiful or butt ugly.  I think if I tried to paint one it might end up in that second category.

Anyway, enough putti pondering for this Grey Cup Sunday.  I guess since I’m in the West I should be cheering for the West.  Even though that means rooting for Calgary, which is probably against some obscure Edmonton bylaw from the baroque period of our shared city histories.  If they all dressed like cherubs I’d watch the whole thing.  But my becoming a football fan is probably not sufficient motivation for the players, especially in November.  That could get butt ugly fast.