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Tag Archives: oil on board

Apple Twist

09 Monday Oct 2017

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I gave up for a bit on another lemon painting I’ve been working on. It was trying to kill me. It was pouring lemon juice on my wounds. So I switched over to painting an apple. And I loooooove this one. It’s the apple of my eye.

Apple Twist.JPG

Apple Twist 12″ x 12″ oil on board

This particular apple became the feature ingredient in apple pancakes later that day. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Nothing says fall like apple pancakes.

Original is available for sale here. Prints and swag and lovely schtuffs and thingsies here and here.

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Don’t Let Your Lemons Get In A Twist

29 Friday Sep 2017

Posted by in art, humor, mental health, painting, Uncategorized

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Whoooooo, it has been a week, y’all. A serious week. I got my lazy ass in gear and worked out on Monday (by which I mean that I did zumba with no music with my friend in her living room), and then looked at some commercial real estate. I had lunch with a friend that I hadn’t seen in almost a year, and then looked at more commercial real estate on Tuesday. Wednesday, I drove over to a little nothing town in the middle on NC to test-ride a couple horses with my mom (who is looking to buy for herself), then she and S and I spent the night in Winston-Salem, my old stomping grounds. Who’s a giant ball of pain now? This girl!!! But it was totally worth it because I haven’t gotten to horseback ride in about 6 years, and, assuming the horse passes the vet check, we found my mom a new buddy. On Thursday, we went to a Georgia O’Keefe exhibit, then visited my paintings on the Wake Forest University campus, had a little lunch, and came back home. And then spent the rest of the evening discussing a game plan regarding the commercial real estate we looked at on Tuesday. Really, we’ve been doing pretty much nothing but discussing real estate for the last month or so. And I am worn out. This brain? It’s actually just a matzo ball by now. Or maybe a dumpling. Either way, it’s soft and soupy and not much of a thinker. I needed a break.

So I spent the day painting, then napping, then painting, then napping, then painting some more. Turns out, painting actually requires thought, damnit. Who knew? It’s exhausting. But I was able to listen to podcasts while I painted and finally not think about real estate for a minute and a half. Ahhhhhhhhh. And now, I present the fruits of my labor:

Lemon Twist I

Lemon Twist I 5″ x 5″ oil on canvas

Get it?!! Fruits of my labor? Admit it, you kinda sorta secretly liked that pun, didn’t you? Anyway, this is actually one of 2 lemon paintings I worked on today. Hopefully the other, which is significantly larger, will be done in the next week or so. If you like this one, you can buy it on my website at https://shop.emilypageart.com/t/realist-works or get prints or other fun thingsies here and here.

And one more thing: today would have been my parents’ anniversary. They need to come up with a way of acknowledging occasions like this, when it’s no longer happy. Saying “Happy Anniversary,” seems inappropriate now that my dad is dead, but I still want to let my mom know that I’m thinking of her, and them, and marking this day in some way. So maybe we need to come up with a phrase like, “Marking Anniversary,” or “Acknowledging Anniversary,” or “Nostalgic Anniversary,” or “I Really Love You And Know This Day Might Be Hard But I’m Still Kinda Sorta Celebrating Your Marriage.” Or something. So Mom, when you read this, pick which ever of those phrases you like best. Love you.

Low Hanging Apple

24 Sunday Sep 2017

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Remember how I had a dream that I did a series of paintings and called them “Low Hanging Fruit” and then, instead of being a normal human, I got up and sketched several? Well, here’s the second one, fresh off the easel.

Low Hanging Apple.JPG

Low Hanging Apple 6″ x 6″ oil on board 

 

The original is for sale here, and you can get prints and things here.

Trumpet in Red

19 Tuesday Sep 2017

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I finally managed to organize my studio enough to paint again. It still has a ways to go as I try to find places to store all the crap I brought home when we closed the paint and sip studio, but at least there’s enough table top/easel space to do a little arting. And since it’s International Talk Like a Pirate Day, I thought I’d make today’s post about “arrrrrrrrrrrt.” You’re welcome for that.

I’ve been working on this painting for over a year, and by “working on this painting,” I mostly mean it’s been glaring at me accusingly for long stretches of time while I avoid making eye contact with it. It’s the largest piece I’ve done that is this detailed (and at 16″ x 20″ it’s not even that big, but still), and it was not a happy process for me. Too many straight lines and confusing reflections. Too much thinking required. But I finally took a couple days and powered through and finished the asshole. And now we’re besties. It’s been sitting happily on my easel for a couple days drying and cooing at me and telling me how grateful it is that I finished it.

Trumpet in Red_compressed

Trumpet in Red 16″ x 20″ oil on board 

But all that cooing is starting to get on my nerves ever so slightly. So maybe someone should buy it, like, right now. You can do so here. You can also get prints and other fun stuff here and here.

Fiddle Quartet

04 Friday Aug 2017

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Awhile back I posted a series of paintings of a friend’s fiddle.  It’s seen a lot of wear and tear, which gives it so much character. I love the scars that document the roadmap of its time in the world. It’s a good reminder that all the bumps and bruises we all accumulate along the way are the things that set us apart, and they don’t make us any less beautiful.

I decided to put the four paintings together as a print, which is now available here on a variety of products.

Fiddle Quartet.jpg

Fiddle IV

15 Thursday Jun 2017

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The last of the four fiddle paintings doesn’t show all the wear and tear that the other ones did, but I love the curves and the contrast of the warmth of the wood next to the coolth (I know that’s not a word, but if warmth is, coolth should be) of the metal:

Fiddle IV_compressed

Fiddle IV 7″ x 5″ oil on board

Prints and other awesome thingamabobs here.

Fiddle II

13 Tuesday Jun 2017

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Yesterday I posted the first of four paintings that were commissioned of a very battle-scarred fiddle. You’ll see what I mean with the next one:

Fiddle II_compressed

Fiddle II 7″ x 5″ oil on board

Prints and other swag here.

Fiddle I

12 Monday Jun 2017

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I’ve been working on a series of commissioned paintings of a fiddle that has seen some shit, y’all. It has all these wonderful scratches and knicks and is all kinds of crazy beat-up. It’s wonderful and someday I hope to hear the stories behind the scars. The first of the four paintings doesn’t highlight the more abused spots on the fiddle, so we’ll start with that one. FYI, painting lettering sucks, but I’m happy with how this bit turned out. Painting wood grain is hard on the hands, but oddly satisfying. There’s something soothing about just drawing lines over and over – kind of like painting fur.

Here’s the first fiddle painting:

Fiddle I_compressed

Fiddle I 7″ x 5″ oil on board

Prints and other gear available here.

Well, Cello There!

27 Monday Mar 2017

Posted by in art, humor, mental health, music, painting, sip and paint studio, Uncategorized

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Finished up a new painting this week. That’s right. I painted! Like, painted painted, not just taught at the sip and paint studio or covered old paintings with more acrylic while I waited for my students to finish a step. It had been almost 2 months since I sat down and painted with oils and my brain was ready to explode from spending too much time in front of a computer and not enough time quietly listening to podcasts with paintbrush in hand. And 2 days later, I did it again. I know. Outta control.

Here’s the result of all that time breathing in paint fumes and turpenoid:

Cello_Compressed

Cello 12″ x 16″ oil on board $450

Original available here. Prints and other merchandise available here.

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Thanks so much for reading my ridiculous thoughts! If you’d like to see my ridiculous thoughts translated into art, visit my website, or follow me on Facebook and Twitter. Know a caregiver, or someone with dementia, or someone who knows someone with dementia, or someone who knows someone who knows someone else who’s a caregiver? Or heck, do you know a person? Well, you should tell them about my book, Fractured Memories: Because Demented People Need Love, Too. Part memoir and part coffee table art book, I recount my family’s heartbreaking and hilarious journey through my father’s dementia. Available to purchase here (this is my favorite way if you live in the U.S.), here or here if you’d rather get the eBook than a print copy, and here (especially if you want a hard cover copy).

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Buddha

04 Saturday Feb 2017

Posted by in art, culture, death, dementia, family, Fractured Memories, humor, painting, Uncategorized

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It’s been a tough few days for me. Tomorrow is the first anniversary of my dad’s death, and I’m missing him somethin’ fierce. Images from his final, painful days keep creeping into my head and stealing my breath, even though I thought I was past that trauma. I’ve been in duck and cover mode as a result, and wanting to just hide under a rock somewhere far, far away from the world. But that’s not how life works, so I’m turning to paint. With brush in hand, I’ve been tapping and dabbing and flicking my way through the pain, trying to find a more meditative state. It’s been hard, so I took the whole meditative, zen thing a little more literally, this time focusing on the Buddha.

My dad had loved yoga in the years prior to the dementia hitting, and he still practiced it for awhile after we moved him to a dementia care facility. There was a statue of the Virgin Mary in the courtyard of the facility, and every morning, my dad would go outside, bow to the statue and say, “Namaste.” Thinking of that now, even in the midst of all this sadness, brings a quiet smile. Namaste, papa.

Buddha.jpg

Buddha 7″ x 5″ oil on board $150

Original available here. Prints here.