Blue without limits

 

Next up in the "Spectral" series is the colour blue -- always my favourite.  For years, before my finger knuckles became unpredictable (some too knobby, some too thin), my trademark piece of jewelry was a ring of lapis lazuli stone mounted in silver.  The colour was sublime, and I've always loved the fact that lapis is the historic source of the paint pigment Ultramarine Blue.  From the same era as my ring, I made a birthday splurge on one small tube of a fine quality "genuine" ultramarine:--

 

Nowadays, the ultramarine of artists' pigment is a chemical mix, and lapis is most likely to be found at rockhounds' stores.  How could I resist a very cheap chunk that I came across at a hobbyists' show a few years ago?

 

Ultramarine is only one of a dozen or more artists' blues.  I have just some of them in my studio.

 

Some notables in the art world have become obsessed with it.  The artist/teacher/theorist Johannes Itten is almost synonymous with colour studies.  In his famous book "The Art of Color," he investigated the "behavioural" qualities of colours – where they fit and how they interact -- and proposed spiritual and psychological correspondences for each.

 

The earlier 20^th century artist Franz Marc also proposed symbolic meanings for different colours – and won my heart in my teenaged years with his series of blue horses. 

 

As I considered What to Do with Blue, a woman who was indubitably spectral showed up at a meeting I was attending.  I admired and complimented her wild fluffy hair and, with a laugh, she told me that someone had come up to her and asked if her tufts were actually feathers. I couldn't quite capture her image when I sketched at home from memory. 

 

She was irresistible, though, and I knew my Creative Packrat's hoard would offer some helpful bounty:--  the crinkly paper packing material that sometimes replaces plastic, and some fabric remnants from my all-time favourite blouse.

 

A swatch of plastic netting that contained a half-dozen avocadoes helped get me started – oh, and the plastic lid of a samosa sauce container.

 

Moving right along:--

 

Suddenly, at this stage, I was reminded of an early Renaissance painting by Rogier van der Weyden:-- 

 

VanGogh's Breton women crowd in on this association, too.

Here's my final version, with all its faults:  "Portrait of a Rare Bird with Feathers" – Spectral Series (copyright 2026).

 

Looking for a blue painting by a known (or little-known!) artist, I had lots to choose from.  How about "Portrait of a Lady in Blue" by Rembrandt Peale?  (That's no joke – his siblings in this noted early American family were named Raphaelle, Rubens, and Titian).

 

If you're feeling joyfully awash with blue at this point, you might want to check out short-lived 20^th century artist Yves Klein who said, "Blue has no dimensions.  It is beyond dimensions."  

 

He experimented with over a hundred pigment mixes to finally create what's internationally known as Klein Blue.   Along the way, he was the first and not last to use the human body to apply paint!  If you're now really keen to experience the Full Klein, check the video here for his sculpted blue sponges!

 

Whew!  What a journey this is, whizzing around the spectrum circle.  Meanwhile, a friend has helpfully reminded me of Emily Dickinson's brief poem that begins, "Hope is a thing with feathers."  Let's hold that thought as we keep rolling along.

 

 

 

Sunshine, blue skies, and a whiff of green

 

This fall-winter season, it feels like we've had endless rain.  Not so, say official sources, who do say, officially, that last month was Vancouver's warmest December on record.  So when the sun shines, and everyone runs outside to dance in the streets (one of my fantasies), it feels like spring will be here soon.

 

Riding the bus in late December, I sat across from a man who seemed to be travelling unfamiliar territory – shown here, with the blank look my eraser tool has thoughtfully provided for him.

 

His timing was perfect – just as I was mulling over a green theme for my Spectral series.  No doubt about it:  This was The Green Man of Celtic (and other) mythology. 

 

However it all came about, The Green Man is also known as The Foliate Man – an architectural motif of a male face surrounded with foliage.  Scroll down in this link to see some marvellous examples from historic European buildings.  I don't think I knew any of this when I modelled this small head some years ago.

 

All right:  Onward with the Spectral painting.  Photos of my early layouts vanished in my laptop's end-of-year breakdown – but those are usually of interest only to me.  Here's a mid-stage in the process.

 

And here's the final:  "The Green Man Takes a Bus to the City" – Spectral Series, copyright 2025.

 

To wrap things up, I went searching for a green painting by a known artist and came across this half-familiar example:

 

Well, if that isn't………no, it ISN'T George Washington. 

 

It's a contemporary of his, William Bayard, and the paintings are by the same artist, Gilbert Stuart. 

 

Finally, to show that there is a whiff of green even when it snows, here's my back yard with the only real snow we've had here this year – all melted two hours later.