Showing posts with label minimalism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label minimalism. Show all posts

Minimalist oil painting

I have been wanting to take my oil painting outdoors for a while. But I felt that it was impractical with the amount of equipment that is often involved. There's the palette, the canvas, an easel, several brushes, a palette knife, paint thinner, refined linseed oil, some rags, and the paints. The thought of carrying all of that stuff somewhere so that I could paint was discouraging. I craved the simplicity of sketching, where all I need is a sketchbook and a pen. I had put the entire idea aside of doing something portable with painting. That was until I watched a video by Rachael Broadwell, an American artist who had implemented a very compact way of painting with oils. 

Stealthy, Minimalist Plein Air Setup for Oils or Acrylics

The entire equipment list is: 

  • a small panel to paint on; 
  • a palette; 
  • two small but strong clips; 
  • a painting knife; 
  • four tubes of paint; 
  • one tube of alkyd gel (optional); 
  • a rag;  
  • a sketchbook; and 
  • a marker or pencil.
When in use, the panel is attached to the edge of the palette with the clips. All of the painting and mixing is done with the one painting knife. The cleaning is done with the rag. A preliminary composition sketch can be made in the sketchbook, or alternatively, the composition could be lightly outlined directly on the panel with either paint. 

This setup is compact in use, and even more compact in transportation with everything fitting into a small backpack. It completely removes my concerns about carrying a lot of equipment to go painting. I have tested the setup a few times in the backyard and it works really well. The only thing to keep in mind is that I have to carefully carry the completed painting back to the car as the paint will still be wet. 

Using this setup has made painting more fun than ever. I'm loving it! It keeps art simple. Just a few bits of gear and a dream. 

Christmas cold war

I'm a Grinch. There is no denying it. There are many reasons why I don't like the Christmas holidays, but the main one is the largess. I don't like the degree to which many people spend on the holiday. 

There are the decorations and the lights on houses. They look beautiful but are so extensive that they could probably be seen by any Jetstar flight passing overhead. There is a lot of time and effort that's spent in setting up displays. Then they have to be pulled down, dismantled and put away. Although, some neighbours view that as optional until Easter. 

There are the expensive gifts. Our wish to be generous can go too far. It can leave us struggling to pay for our own needs. It can also encourage a materialist mindset, and perpetuate the hardship. 

Then there is the food. Oh my goodness the food. All of the tasty treats for the special occasion, prepared with care and love over many hours. And there are the bags full of sweets, chocolates and crisps. The fundamental purpose of food is lost during these times. 

There is simply too much. But why? 

Are we motivated by kindness, love and a desire to be generous? Or are these heartfelt urges twisted up by a subconscious concern for what everyone else is doing? Are we loving, or are we trying to keep up with the world around us? 

I think that it can be difficult to keep worldliness out of the holidays. And if we try to, we are likely to worry about what other people think. Thus we are caught in the cycle. Maybe it's just a first world problem. 

Forget that which shines

Of late, I have noticed my thoughts tending toward matters of unnecessary complexity. The pursuit of a simple life of basic needs, along with a few small comforts, has been usurped by cravings of a worldly nature. Money, possessions, reputation and recognition have become dominant thoughts. In essence - greed and ego. This shift in thinking has decreased my happiness a bit. Not a drastic change but enough for me to notice it. I don't like it. 

It has prompted me to return to the book Walden by Henry David Thoreau. Re-reading the early portion has reminded me of the confusing and sometimes complex pursuits of modern life, always chasing after more of various things, drawing people away from the bare necessities of life. Reading it provides a measure of peace to my mind, calming the turbulent desires and bringing them under heel. 

This morning I spared a thought for the chores at home - cleaning dishes, sweeping floors, folding laundry, dusting shelves, and other tasks of this kind. As I went about these chores I stopped thinking about the things from the world beyond - news, politics, markets, employment, and so on. The outside world was ushered from my mind and escorted back outside where they belong. I simply did the tasks at hand, and that was enough.

Obviously, we cannot ignore worldly concerns forever, but neither should we entertain them for longer than necessary. The same is true for most thoughts and matters. There are times when our thoughts on some topic are no longer useful. When we have moved beyond helpful reflection, and begun to ruminate, rehash and reinforce counterproductive lines of thought, then it is time to lay them aside to go do something. Keep it simple.

Simple pleasures

This morning I opened a new jar of instant coffee. A nice start to the day. Some people might not see the value in such a simple act, but I'm sure that many of my fellow instant coffee drinkers will know the joy that's found in starting a new jar. I've been a bit of a coffee snob in the past. I have owned some espresso machines, and honed my brewing skills to be able to consistently make coffee the way I like. But I can still enjoy a cup of instant coffee. It requires a little bit of luck to get a good cup. Even when I think I'm getting the proportions of coffee, water and milk just right, I will sometimes end up with a nasty flavour. But there's something about the first few brews made from a freshly opened jar of instant coffee - they just taste better than usual. So, I find some joy in that. It's cheap, simple, doesn't require specialized equipment, and can be tasty. 

Cold showers are another simple pleasure. Now maybe you're reading this from a cold place, or you could have some health reasons that make cold showers a bad idea, in which case you might want to skip the cold showers. I enjoy them though. I like that the water doesn't have to be heated, which saves me some money. I like how invigorating a cold shower is; it's like being supercharged for the next hour or so. The cold water can provide some relief to sore muscles. These are all good reasons. But what I like most about cold showers is the mental discipline required. It's not a monumental challenge, but it is slightly unpleasant for the first few moments. As I get into a cold shower and feel the mild jolt of initial discomfort I think: Okay, so it's cold. Don't complain about it. It will feel nice soon. 

There are a number of other simple pleasures that I enjoy. But I find it interesting that many of those simple pleasures require a small degree of discipline or self-control. Some degree of an expectation of comfort or convenience needs to be rejected. With coffee, I know that I could go buy a tasty coffee from a cafe or store, and it would taste better than my homemade instant brew. With cold showers, I could easily make the water temperature more comfortable initially with the turn of a tap. It's seems like I've become accustomed to seeking quick joy or pleasure in many areas of my life. And the more that I indulge in such conveniences, the more undesirable the alternatives seem. 

When I do push past the almost reflexive urge to seek immediate comfort or convenience, I feel something peculiar - feelings of freedom and deep-seated joy. Maybe the feeling of freedom arises from exerting my willpower and going beyond animalistic cravings. And the joy that I feel seems to be an extension of the freedom; knowing that I'm not compelled to do things a certain way, feels like a weight being lifted from off my shoulders.