I prefer to work in a studio. Three pieces in progress is ideal for me. I like to work, paint or draw, until I feel the creative flow fizzle a bit. I know that forcing the flow can ruin a piece for me, so I stop and then move on to another drawing or painting already in progress. This is the way I work best. It keeps my creative energy open for a few hours and I make a lot of progress.

And so, it stands to reason that plein air drawing or painting is not something I feel comfortable doing. But, this week I am forcing myself out of my comfort zone a little bit in an attempt to broaden my skills a bit while on vacation.

I am with my family in the obscure neighborhood of very upstate New York, not far from Erie, PA, on Chautauqua Lake. My son is immersed in a summer ballet intensive here at the Chautauqua Institution, which is an amazing private community dedicated to sustaining the world through conservation and the arts. It only makes sense that I try to tap into some of my creative energy here, surrounded by the arts, even though I am very far from my studio.

So far I've only sketched once, and I'm reminded how much I dislike plein air drawing, but it gave me the opportunity to teach my 7 year old artistic daughter how to use pastels while enjoying a picnic on the lake. This drawing is of the Chautauqua clock tower, which still maintains a live bell player every quarter, half and full hour during the day. I hear she is a friendly lady.

When it finally stops raining, I'll venture out again today for another sketch. Or maybe I'll just get out there with an umbrella. We have just two more days here in this lovely place, but if I get the hang of it, perhaps the practice of drawing out in the open will bleed into the rest of my summer plans this season.

Happy Independence Day.

It's not something I ever thought about. When I think charitable giving, I think donating money or used clothing/household items. When I was asked by a close friend to donate one of my art pieces to the organization Green Chimneys, I was flattered and immediately jumped at the offer.  

Of my 2012 Hollywood series, featuring Rita Hayworth and Fred Astaire, one (of two) was already sold, leaving one piece of the pairing without a home.  The drawing is entitled "You'll Never Get Rich", which is the name of the film that this image was created from.  Slightly outside the usual ballet inspiration, this pair of drawings was created specifically for a GlamNatural exhibit in Akron, OH, meant to fit in with the glam/natural theme.

"You'll Never Get Rich" will be auctioned as part of the Green Chimneys 2014 Spring Gala event on May 15, 2014.  Click HERE to learn more about the event and the Green Chimneys organization.

You'll Never Get Rich (Rita Hayworth & Fred Astaire); 
Hollywood Series, 2012; 
12"x16" 
pastel on paper

After over three years, today I finally got an improvised studio set up at my boyfriend's place.  I'm convinced that the reason I cannot possibly follow a football game on tv is because of my very visual nature of perception.  I cannot locate, nor is it visibly stimulating for me to find the damn football. It's brown.  Make it fuchsia, or some other stand out color, and maybe I'll try.  But, ultimately, my eyes (and curiosity) can't help but focus on other visually interesting things, like... the coach's tiny little plastic baggie that covers the microphone on his headset, or the fact that some players wear long sleeve, some short, or wonder why there's a mouthpiece stuffed into the grill of some player's helmet.  It's just too much.  So many distractions, so many interesting things to look at, not to mention the colorful uniforms and the numerous graphics strewn all across the screen.  How can anyone expect me to follow this game, which is complicated already in and of itself?

Luckily, I was smart enough to pack up a couple of works in progress and all my pastel supplies to bring to my boyfriend's house while he is 100% dedicated to watching the playoffs. And so, finally, after over three years I finally have a place to create while the music plays, the fire roars, and the game is on tv in the background.  Finally.

It's the New Year. Yet I'm working on two old pieces started over a year ago. They aren't dead pieces needing resurrection, just simply in good working order set aside to make room for other more pressing work, and they hadn't made it back onto my easel until last night.

I work in cycles. I imagine a lot of artists do. I like keeping two good pieces of each medium, oil and pastel, going at the same time. I paint, going from one piece to another, then if I have a good flow going, I switch to pastels, also working on two drawings simultaneously.

Currently, I am working on the lunar moth and dragonfly oil pieces. But then I wanted to get two drawings underway. These two canvas ballet drawings got put aside last year so that I could concentrate on Nutcracker work. But now they can get right back onto my easel where they belong. In a way, it is a continuum, just like the ballet that these two drawings are based on.

Continuum is a ballet choreographed by Christopher Wheeldon. I love the shapes, line and shadows in the interaction of the dancers. This is one of two drawings I am making on canvas primed with a transparent ground so that the raw color of the canvas shows through.

I am experimenting with canvas and different grounds after reading much about Degas' techniques. Next, I want to try a new casein fixative that I've read is supposed to be similar to what Degas used. The interesting thing with these pieces for me is that I inverted the stretched canvas so that the stretchers are on the outside, which I do often with my oil painting, but not for drawing until recently. This allows the work to have a built in frame that I can use as part of the piece, making it appear like a cross between my oil paintings and my usual drawings on paper.

I intend to use a decorative, archival paper with concentric spirals on the frame to hint at the title of the ballet. I'm optimistic that I'll be very happy with the final result. And so I am glad that my working process has finally allowed for these drawing to get back into my own "continuum".

May you enjoy a very happy holiday season full of love, good health and happiness.

This drawing is nearing its completion and soon it will be signed. It is a gift for a dear friend. And I hope she likes it.

The hardest part about using my talent to create gifts for people is the nagging question of whether or not they will like it. Buying a gift, in comparison, is a lot less risky. In fact, it scares the hell out of me; putting myself in this vulnerable position even if I know the person well. Especially if I'm creating a likeness of their child.

This drawing is of "Fritz" from the opening scene of the classical ballet The Nutcracker. This is no ordinary Fritz, he is one of my son's closest friends and classmate at The School of American Ballet. They perform together with the New York City Ballet. This is his second and last year performing the role, and so I thought it appropriate to commemorate his run as Fritz in this work of art.

Fritz's mother is a very special person. We have grown to depend on one another in our fast paced, chaotic lives. I truly hope she likes this tribute to her son.

The decorations are up, and yes they are encroaching on my art space. Crowded, yes. Busy, yes. These cons do cause in me a reluctance to paint. Yet, there always comes a moment when I decide to make something as a holiday or thank you gift for someone this time of year. And with all the imbibing (what artist doesn't work better with a drink or two or ...), there's a guarantee that I'll be painting or drawing by the fire this season. So who will be the lucky recipient of this year's 2013 holiday Susan A. Wenz original? Oh, I think I know. Stay tuned.

Two small, identically shaped stretched painting surfaces. Perfect opportunity to finally create insect portraits of my young twin daughters. One, a Lunar Moth. The other, an Emperor Dragonfly.

Both are winged flight insects, full of beautiful colors with majestic qualities. Yet, they are completely different insects with characteristics each their own. Very much similar to my daughters who may look alike, but who are fundamentally very unique.

These are only basic sketches so far. And I haven't yet determined the frame structure. I feel there will have to be less than three, however, since at 6 years of age, my girls have not established an online impression of themselves (yet).

I have an open studio.  Right in the middle of the house, in the most visited room of the day. Specifically, it's in my living room (as posted in my previous blog entry).  This is great for my three kids because the constant exposure to my art-in-progress continually fuels their creativity.  Recently, I've found this also works in the opposite.

When my children ask to paint, I'm sometimes too busy (or lazy) to pull out all their "student grade" supplies.  One recent afternoon, I announced that they would have their first oil painting lesson, only because all my supplies were conveniently already out in the open.  Of course, my 6 year old twin daughters jumped at this special opportunity and they loved the experience.  Consequently, it caused a creative spark - in me.

And so, that is how I learned that not only can I inspire my children to spontaneously paint and draw, but that they can do the same for me too.  As I showed them how to mix the oil paint and work the brush, I found myself beginning two new works right then and there. Good job girls!

My art space is also the living room. I like it that way. While a dedicated separate studio would be really great, I enjoy creating during everyday activities, and in the middle of our family life. The constant exposure to creativity is good for me and my kids.

But every year, the Nutcrackers invade.

We have a strong tie to Nutcracker ballet. My 11 year old son performs in George Balanchine's The Nutcracker with the New York City Ballet. This is his third season, and we have developed quite a collection of Nutcrackers over the years!

No, my Christmas decorations are not yet down from the attic. But the Nutcrackers were specially requested today...they have been sorely missed by my 6 year twin girls during the "off season". (The Nutcrackers are adored and played with instead of baby dolls.)

And so they march in, invading my space. But, I don't mind because I can paint and draw as the kids play at my feet, and life just doesn't get any better than that