Frankenfinger No More!

A month and a half after my bizarre injury - following two surgeries, two casts, and a whole lot of prayer - I am finally seeing a light at the end of the tunnel! Today the doctor took out two of the pins that were holding everything together; there is still one going through the two bones, making it impossible for me to bend that last joint on the finger. And I will be wearing a splint still for at least the next three weeks. Don't look at these pictures if you are easily grossed out... but if you're curious, here it is, before the two side pins were removed.

The GREAT news is that I am now back to painting comfortably... in fact, yesterday I finished a painting I had been working on off and on at the Society of Figurative Arts - a fun and unusual pose with a nude model. Granted, it took a lot longer than usual, but I don't think my work has suffered from the time off. :-) If anything, I'm stronger and more determined than ever.

"Bone Necklace" - 18x14" - oil on linen panel

Additionally, taking time off from painting was good for me in that I was able to give 100% to some of my volunteer activities, particularly, my job as Texas ambassador for the Portrait Society of America. Last Saturday (May 5), with the help of SoFA's Michael Mentler, I was able to host a get-together and demo for Texas portrait painters, featuring the wonderful Kay Polk as our demo artist. We had a great turnout and the event was very well received. Given that event planning is not my forte, I thought it went very well. Here is a panoramic photo from during the demo, and a group shot, from the event.

I am back to painting and working up a storm - keeping busy with portrait commissions, but also planning a brand new large-scale figurative piece. I'm very excited about it... but you'll have to wait a few more weeks before I reveal it to you. :-)

Another Week in the Cast

Okay, I admit it. I'm sitting here tapping my feet, twisting locks of hair, and going a little bit crazy. I look down at  this hard piece of plaster and bandages engulfing my whole left hand except for the thumb (which might be useful except for the fact that it's disconnected from the rest just enough to be in a constant state of paraesthesia). I keep thinking the day I have my painting hand back to full recovery can't come soon enough.

You know what I miss? Washing dishes. Opening a jam jar. Typing with both hands. Buttoning my pants (yes, I've pulled out my entire wardrobe of elastic-waisted bottoms for this week. Real fashionable!). Putting my hair in a ponytail. Applying the perfect sweep of eye liner. I even miss working out (something I never would have admitted to before!). Most of all, I miss the silent daily dialog between me and my work. The paint has dried up on my palette, my blank canvases grow dusty, and my brushes sit unused, like soldiers without an assignment.  

Meanwhile, my projects pile up, as I've put them off for a whole month now. I thought April was going to be a crazy month, but it's almost as though God decided to re-arrange my schedule for me, enforcing an extended time of awkward stillness that even I -- an artist accustomed to long hours of solitude -- am uncomfortable with. The longer I am unable to do things, the more I am rightly forced to dwell on spiritual matters... i.e., not the state of my art (because let's face it... it's on hold right now!), but rather, the state of my soul. If I am struggling with a mere broken finger, I have to ask--how do the sick and dying, paraplegics, cancer-stricken, and weary sufferers of this world make it through each day, without the hope for heaven that I have? This "round two" of wearing a cast and suffering pain and being forced to abstain from my work... has it been yet another test to see where I've placed my true allegiance? Once upon a time, I thought this would be impossible to endure; I lived in fear of hurting my hands or being put in a position where I might not be able to do the things I love. Now that it's happened, I'll be the first to confess that it hasn't been easy, yet God's grace has been abundant, and He is helping me make it through. The moments where I lose sight of Him and start dwelling on me - are when I break down and begin to despair (will it never end?),  but as soon as I go back to God's Word and become reminded of His promises, I have hope once more. There is always hope for those who trust in the Savior.


Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. - Colossians 3:1-2 

Perhaps there's even hope for me as an ambidextrous painter! Ha! In my boredom, I have started yet another right-handed self portrait. This time I experimented with setting up two mirrors so that instead of the typical frontal view, it was a profile. I got very frustrated with myself and my limitations while working on this piece, but the surprising part is that it actually looks like me. Whether or not it's a good painting, I don't know. But at least I got to get my brushes dirty again and spend some much-needed time in the studio.

Double-Mirror Self Portrait with Right Hand, 12x9 - oil on Raymar panel 

The Broken Finger: Round Two

So, I wasn't expecting a curveball here with this whole broken finger fiasco, but it happened, and I'm trying my best to maintain a positive attitude.
We spent this past weekend in Austin, enjoying a "mini vacation" with family, and because of all the distractions, I often forgot about my finger in its splint. It was a lot of fun, but by the last day of our trip I felt, as I always do after I've had a lot of socializing, that I really needed some time alone -- preferably with my paints and brushes -- to "recharge." I was determined to go out and do some plein air painting, broken finger or not. We were staying in a condo on Lake Travis, but it was a little bit of a hike in either direction to get down to the lake. I carried my painting supplies all the way there, and realized when I arrived that my finger was hurting more than usual, as though the pins had shifted and were digging around inside the bone. Ouch!

Still, my determination won out. I enjoyed the beautiful late-spring flowers that were blooming among the rocks, and decided to do a painting with that juxtaposition as the focal point. I realized fairly quickly though that the longer I painted, the more my hand protested. My painting is perhaps worth finishing, but when I look at it, I have trouble seeing anything but the struggle, the clumsiness, and the pain it took in the process!

Indeed, all of last week, even with the cast gone and a spint to replace it, I struggled clumsily in my few attempts at painting. But I thought the end was in sight until...

Coming home from Austin, I scheduled my follow-up appointment with the orthopedist a little early, because I was concerned about the recent pain I'd been having. They discovered from the x-rays that it was, indeed, not where it was supposed to be. While the bits of broken bone were still in place, the whole joint itself had shifted, making it off-center on the bone below. The told me I would need another surgery, this time to put another pin down the tip to ensure it wouldn't move anymore. But that also meant going back into the dreaded cast, for at least another week... and I'd have to start the whole process over!  They said it may or may not have been my fault; the truth is, the injury was worse than the x-rays could reveal, and the ligaments must have been pretty damaged, since they hadn't healed enough to prevent the joint's gradual dislocation.

It is hard to overcome feeling discouraged, but I keep telling myself that if I could make it through this once, then I can do it again.

The surgery took place yesterday, and I am back in the cast, this time without any of my fingers free (just the thumb). The pain is worse this time, as are the side-effects to the pain meds. I am typing this with one hand, and thinking about what to do next. Perhaps another right-handed painting? ... :-) We'll see.

Where there is a will, there is a way...

After hearing about my recent hand injury, several artist friends challenged me to paint with my right hand, as opposed to waiting until the cast comes off my crippled left. Given that I am accustomed to painting nearly every single day and have been biting at the bit (it has been over a week since my last painting session!), I decided to give it a shot. I wasn't terribly optimistic. Since the surgery, every time I tried drawing, writing, or doing anything that required some dexterity, I ended up making a clumsy mess. I almost lit myself on fire trying to light the gas burners on our stove, because my right hand got confused about which burner was which. Using my right hand has required an extra measure of thought and concentration. But... perhaps this could work to my advantage in a painting. After all, isn't it mostly about what we know, rather than which hand we use to get the information down on canvas? The heart and mind are by far my most valuable tools in art, as far as I'm concerned. While the connection from eyes and brain down to hand may be clumsy, I think it is possible, as well as a great exercise in control.

So here goes...

This happened yesterday. I sat down in my studio, lit by afternoon light in the south window... and tried my hand (literally!) at a self portrait. There is no glamour this one; no makeup, hair pulled back, and dark circles under tired eyes. By the time I got around to painting the ear, I was completely exhausted (thanks, pain meds...), so I think I'll have to go back in later and define some of that structure. I might also try designing the hair a little better. But, I love the colors, the background, and the softly painted eye. I accomplished this with my non-painting hand and actually liked the result! I guess this is what happens when you are essentially painting to make every stroke count.

 Self portrait with right hand (unfinished) - 16x11 - oil on canvas pad

I should probably mention that since this was all an experiment, I was also working with some brand new oil colors, courtesy of Rembrandt. Most of them I'd never used before. They were: Chromium Oxide Green, Naples Yellow Light, Stil de Grain Brown, Sevres Blue, Caput Mortuum Violet, and Stil de Grain Yellow. I had a blast experimenting with these new colors, some of which were very opaque, and others more transparent (the transparent yellow was a delight!). I especially enjoyed the effects of the chromium oxide green in creating the illusion of blonde hair, and the caput mortuum violet for use in the transparent warm shadows. The only other colors I used to supplement my palette were titanium white, cadmium red, ivory black, and Rembrandt transparent oxide red.

My new Rembrandt oil paints

Today I decided to show up at my painting group and join them for some more right-handed painting adventures! Our model was wearing a wonderfully sassy outfit, with a black netted hairpiece, sunglasses, and pearls. I wasn't able to quite capture the look of the pearls with my clumsy right hand (maybe I just ran out of patience), but I was still happy with the likeness and enjoyed the quick 2-hour session. I was just so happy to be painting again!

 Life sketch of Emma with Sunglasses; 16x12, oil on canvas pad

While neither of these paintings come close to my best work (!), I really learned a lot from the experience, especially about edge control. I was happy with the edges on the eye in my self-portrait, and the mouth on Emma. Other elements left much to be desired. Still, it's comforting to know that one's artistic skills are not attached wholly to the hands that wield them. Determination wins this round! :-)