4 year old Henry engaged fully with thick applications of watercolor and oil pastels. He said it was a stormy sea with a small boat. This was at the onset of the pandemic, when we were all a bit uncertain and confined to our homes. I was reminded of an insight by Kierkegaard written in the early 1800s: “When the sailor is out on the sea and everything is changing around him, as the waves are continually being born and dying, he does not stare into the depths of these, since they vary. He looks up at the stars. And why? Because they are faithful – as they stand now, they stood for the patriarchs, and will stand for coming generations. By what means then does he conquer changing conditions? Through the eternal: By means of the eternal, one can conquer the future, because the eternal is the foundation of the future.”
I recently discovered oil pastels and am being amazed every day at how versatile they are. While cleaning my desk this morning I found some blank ATCs (Artist trading cards, 2.5x3.5") and wondered if I could work small with such a bulky medium. Turns out, absolutely yes.
I first bought some cheap soft pastels back in 2018 and did a couple of sketches. I bought a nice set of Rembrandt pastels a few months later — didn't use them. I bought some pastel pads, none if which seemed right. September 2020, I bought a couple more sets of bargain pastels and tried a couple of pieces — no good, still couldn't bring myself to use them. Jess bought me pastel pencils for Christmas — I was too scared to use them. I even bought a pad of Pastelmat which is supposed to be THE paper to use for pastel paintings in January. I was too scared to use that as well!
FINALLY, after a few unsuccessful attempts at working with watercolour (brush issues), I cast aside my fear and thought I'd mess around with pastels. Some time later, and this was the result. I've finally broken through my pastel fear-barrier.
I've got to say, I love soft pastels and I'm excited about doing more pieces in this medium.
A silhouette of a tree in the moon light .It may looks simple but inctricated with repeated strikes for leaves . back ground done with oilpastels crayons.
The tables were covered in white paper. Crayons, pastels, and smooth sticks waited quietly. Then came Lucy’s glittery purse—her 8-year-old hands had filled it with stones to pass along, one by one, to the strangers around the table.
We traced them. Pushed them. Held them.
Then we let the colors lead:
-Red for emotion.
-Yellow for curiosity.
-Blue for memory.
Each color came with music, with story, with space.
At the Museum of Wisconsin Art, we made marks not for meaning but for presence.
Thank you to Ann Marie and MOWA for the invitation and trust. And thank you to the participants—some new friends, some old students—for showing up and making lines that listened before they spoke.
"If Madonna's allowed to reinvent herself every 15 minutes, I figure I should be good for a change at least once every 20 years." - “Weird Al” Yankovic.
