The Brain Fog Rolls In

3653

I've seen a fair number of people react about their reactions to the changed psychological landscape of the pandemic. So little is available; so many people are staying home, by requirement or choice, and we're having to MacGyver structure into lives that, by employment or routine, have had structure provided them; old lingering dreads have blossomed into new stark terror or opportunity, depending on what you had going on when the balloon went up, three-point-five seven million hundred five thousand weeks ago.

We habituated art supply stores, the library, and Powell's; books and art. Those are our treasures. Being in these places recharged; we are now, with respect to the psyche, running on stored charge. It's dilating our psyches in a way that's still difficult to define, but I feel its tectonic effects on the head.

It arrives usually around 9:30 AM or a little after. I have gotten home before 8:00 every day; and with no other reason to go out, I have all this time to do art, right? Except I don't. It settles in heavy, kind of like an umbra, the feeling of a dark gray cloud; I become drowsy. What animation I had toward creating anything is displaced by this at a 1:1 ratio. Yesterday ... in my studio I have this low desk we call the kneedesk, and it's next to the drawing board where I was turning out a minimum of one acrylic painting a day, and I sat at it trying to write in the diary, and I laid my head down on the desk, and I don't know how long I napped there, but when I next opened my eyes I found that I felt as though I had been asleep a very long time.

I have, for aeons now, been a 3rd-shift worker. This puts its own color and shape on the biological processes that regulate ones' diurnal cycle - you wind up struggling against them but you can usually work out a sort of detente. This is an unwelcome guest that invites itself. And while I can't exactly say how, I know it's because my intellect has been cut off from exterior power, and it apparently consumes a great deal of juice, because I go low about the same time every day.

Like many people, I'm giving myself the guilt about not grasping the opportunity I have, but there's also a movement I see that reminds us that this all is not normal, this is like nothing we collectively have ever experienced before. Maslow would have it that we are on the lower levels of the pyramid, so what you have to do to get through the day is entirely proper.

But I do want to use the time. Increased blogging helps. Writing this prolix har-de-har helps. Diarizing helps. I also have a small book about small meditation practices-to-go by Jan Chozen Bays at my side and there's some things I can try here too.

So I'm evolving a way to deal with a changed environment and an attempt to find a new, if temporary, equilibrium. I guess I'm impatient that I can't do it instantly. Perhaps grasping that observation will help me help myself. And help me get that painting of the elephant done.

Five more works in 50 Small Paintings. Just five.

In the meantime, a day at a time. Steady as she goes.

And so it goes.

I've Been Framed From 2017

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I haven't been in IBF for far too long, so, let's visit it in the mind which, in this case, is the next best thing to being there.

This is from 2017. For a while, near the front door, there was a full-size, and by that I mean you can stand up straight and look it in the face, ladykin.

There was a naming contest when they acquired it, and the prize was one of those cool Golden Acrylics coffee mugs with a printed label like it was a tube of acrylic paint. I reached into my storehouse of art and science fiction ideas and came up with Mona Lisa Undercoat. 

I did not win. I still want that coffee mug. Anyway.

This was the scene near the register just about exactly three years ago; April 2017. The ladykin was dressed flamboyantly and there was this bit of signage that I've always enjoyed that was created by another long-time patron and given to the shop. It hung in the front window for a while. Now, I think it hangs in the back area somewhere.

I love the visual joke here. Mark told me, I think, it was based on a Banksy, I don't remember. There's something about the way the picture is kind of a visual version of a very clever pun, the kind that doesn't make you groan (don't, you guys! They're out there! I've seen 'em!). The little script thanks a lot! in the lower right corner nails the droll counterpoint. I do love this picture.

Thus concludes this visit-of-the-mind to IBF.

The New Water Jar

3600Times change and some of my painting habits have changed with it. I'm using bigger and more brushes as I explore the joy of painting acrylic. Washing these brushes in the old jar got a bit messier and soggier than before because they're larger and require a bit more vigorous of a wrist to get rinsed and clean.

Well, actually, messy, I don't have a problem with as the older I get the more feral I become. Soggy, though, I don't do. Anyway.

My Brown Eye Girl came up with a suitable, and larger, jar. Allow me to introduce you all:

Same former product, same brand (Hy-Top was what WinCo sold before they didn't). Bigger chest, smaller neck: should corral the sloshing water a little better.

Please, people ... celebrate appropriately. Thank you. 

[art] Fugitive Colors of the Past

3399.

There's a rubric in art I like: fugitive colors. They're colors that get away from you, over time. Alizarin crimson is a notorious fugitive.

Basically what's going on here is a factor of the way pigments interact with sunlight. Colors, quite simply, bleach out and fade over time in paintings. Reds are the hardest to keep in place, it seems, and alizarin crimson is about the worst. You'll know about a color's fugitiveness by looking on the package: typically, there's a specification for permanence on any given tube of acrylic, oil, or watercolor or pan of watercolor, and the higher the permanence, the more likely that color's going to be standing by you over time after you create your work.

There are some colors that are actually no longer with us; they've truly escaped us. There's a variety of reasons for this, usually having to do with something about the materials; too expensive, too poisonous, or too fictional. There's a luminous quality to white lead, for example, but you make a habit of using it (providing you can actually get it) and you'll pay with a bit of your health. The colors arsenic can enable add to the artistic atmosphere, but the stuff it releases won't add anything you want to your breathable atmosphere. And things like that.

Here at a blog called Hyperallerigic, blogger Allison Meier recounts the stories of a handful of pigments that have completely escaped to the past, never to return: White lead, lapis lazuli, even (ha!) mummy brown, made with real mummy, as the legend has it.

The article can be read by pointing yourself at http://hyperallergic.com/74661/the-colorful-stories-of-5-obsolete-art-pigments/.

[art] How-To Art, in the Days Before North Light Books, et. al.

2976.

While assistance in creating one's self an artist has been been findable, the format has gone through some surprising (at least to YT) evolution. Maybe I shouldn't be surprised, in retrospect, but it just seems amazing to me that the how-to art book hasn't been anything other than a medium-to-large, glossy, fun-to-look-at and exciting-to-hold explosion of color and photography that makes you feel as though you're looking over the artist's shoulder as they demonstrate it to you.

But art how-to books weren't always the satisfying fun that they are now. Found about a week back at Periodicals Paradise that, quite honestly, surprised me in its aspect. Here's what it looks like:

How To Draw and Paint, by Henry Gasser. This paperback … in the popular format so widespread in those days … claimed to be able to impart to the beginner the techniques needed to get started in a variety of media and popular materials. And it's just this little paperback.

The introduction sounds big-chested and confident:

"Do it yourself!" Every day new thousands of American men and women alike, are discoverign the fun, the deep and lasting satisfaction they can derive from making things themselves, with their own hands.

This book is addressed to the aristrocrat of all "do-it-yourselfers" – to you, the beginning artist. Whatever your goal in art – whether you hope to become another Rermbrandt, a top-flight commercial artist, or just a happy amateur – How to Draw and Paint should help smooth the way for you.

Makes some big promises to be sure, and the enthusiastic and chest-thumping "American DIY pride awesome" text not only connects the urge to learn to a great democratic American tradition but also pats the self-trained artist on the back with special strokes – you aristocrat, you! But after leafing through this book, those promises are more than just hand-waving, huffing-and-puffing. Somehow, the artist-author has indeed managed to squeeze into this little 240-page book the basic tips and ideas that wouldn't get you all the way to Rembrandt stage but some first steps on the road, and if you were looking for enough protips to start arting around for your own self, well, this would probably get you most of the way there.

And casein! This little guy will get you started in casein, which I don't see a lot of how-tos on these days. His wheelhouse, it is big.

The obverse, as can be seen above, is an ad for the Grumbacher line of art supplies, a line whose name stands pretty tall as one of the American old-guard, and whose products can still be found in art stores today, though its reputation seems a bit more pedestrian than the Gamblins and such … more of a poor-artist's Winsor and Newton.

What really surprised me was the amount of availability this book had as far as even this edition went. I found it for sale on eBay here, here and here.  It's apparently been through several printings; this availability on Amazon UK suggests a larger format and a more modern cover.

If you ever find one of these in a used bookstore, get it. It's a fun read, and actually kind of solid, even in todays world of art how-tos that do everything but draw your drawings for you.

[art] A Hard Pencil Is Good To Find

2867.
I love 9H pencils.

You all know what that means, don't you?

Probably not. Poor, poor people.

These are very, very hard pencils. You can drive them as nails.

Well, in balsa wood anyway.

9H pencils are the hardest you're likely to find anywhere. You can barely make a mark with them, pressing hard. Why would I want 9H pencils?

Because you can barely make a mark with them, which means they're actually very nifty for roughing in things with a very light mark which won't smear, because I'm clumsy (or awesome that way).

Actually, you can find 9H pencils … what you can't find are 9H woodless pencils, as I adore woodless pencils. For some reason pencil makers don't see any market for any woodless pencil with an H in it (unless that's HB). And that leads me, kind of awkwardly, into pencil grades, which everyone thinks are pretty much #2, which is another system altogether.

Ever wonder, if there's a #2 pencil, where's the #1?

Around the world, graphite pencils are graded from softest to hardest, along a continuum. Artists know the H-F-B system well; H is for hard, B is for black (soft lead is easy to make into a mass tone of black) and HB is right in the middle. There's another grade, 'F', which is softer than H but harder than HB, and was chiefly included so that people would go to the art supply store and go 'what's the F stand for', and the art supply store person will shrug and say 'I don't know either'.

Maybe F stands for a secret art supply industry word meaning 'get people into the stores'.

Maybe it stands for fnord. They'll never say.

But this is the scale on the H-F-B continuum:

9H … H - F - HB - B  … 9B

Hard            Medium            Soft

Now, this system originated somewhere in England, unless it didn't.

The system schoolkids in America are most familiar with seems to contain only one grade - #2 - but it only seems that way, as President Morgan Freeman said to Cub Reporter Téa Leoni in Deep Impact. What I can seriously say is that it was developed by Conté, the man who invented the pencil, and introduced and modified to American needs by John Thoreau, who was famous for causing Henry David Thoreau's mom to become pregnant with him (what lineage, yeah?). It was Conté who figured out that varying the proportion of clay with graphite would cause differing hardnesses of the 'lead' - the more the clay, the harder the lead. And if you ever wondered where #2 falls on the pencil hardness scale, here's where (arranged as above):

#4  - #3  - #2  - #1

Hard        Medium        Soft

2H  - H  - HB  - B

There are fewer grades and American pencils tend to be harder. This of course totally captures the American character: we are a simple folk and a hard one. Since there's less of a chance of inserting some arbitrarily-chosen inscrutable symbol or number (like that glyph George Harrison included on all his albums) we here in the States make it confusing by only making #2 commonly available, leaving us to wonder where all the other numbers ran off to.

In the meantime, the search for a 9H (or any H, for that matter) woodless pencil continues. We doubt much success along these lines.

And so it goes.

[art] Paper Zone Stores To Close

2737.It's with a heavy heart that we mark this passage, and deem it Not A Good Christmas Gift At All:

As you may have heard, we will be closing all of our Paper Zone locations. After receiving an overwhelming outpour of concern, we felt compelled to further explain our unfortunate situation. Paper Zone is a company with 20 year roots in the Northwest. We are based in Seattle, operating eight retail locations throughout Oregon and Washington. However, due to the current economic downturn, we have experienced three years of sales declines between 6%-8% annually. As a small local retailer we were unable to sustain these losses.

The economy eats another one, and it is a local business, at least local to the PNW, to Cascadia. We've enjoyed many a nice moment at the Paper Zone, they've always had good service and good selection. And local, like the other art-based businesses we prefer: I've Been Framed and Muse Art and Design.

Now, as far as I know, IBF and Muse aren't in danger of going away, but if you want them to continue, you'll continue to patronize them. Local people spending money locally, providing great local value (there's a whole lot at Muse and IBF that wont' break your bank, trust me here).

I'm not trying to lecture you guys … I know money's incredible-tight, and like me, if you can spend some, you do. I think this should make everyone aware of what happens when local businesses don't get the support they need.

They go away.

In the meantime, thanks for the memories, Paper Zone. It's been a good run. Shame it had to end.

If you want to, you can read the entire announcement at the Paper Zone's blog here, as long as it remains up.

[pdx] Big Water Main Break On SE Foster Road … But The Art Supplies Stayed Nice And Dry

2652.Submitted for your approval: a big-ass water-main break on SE Powell Blvd at Lafayette Street, as reported by KPTV:

Water main break creates big, wet mess: A water main broke just after 3 p.m. on Wednesday at SE Lafayette and Foster Road.

Lafayette and Foster is the corner on which one of the most important art supply shop is on … I've Been Framed. But was the store ever threatend? Shucks, no! As I chatted with Mark, who runs the store in the afternoons, I found how much they care - he even makes sure the storm drain out front stays clear, and that storm drain caught all the runoff from the water main break that surfaced.

It was a considerable rupture. Big hole in SE Foster, traffic down to one lane, big pool of water down Lafayette going toward 50th Avenue (right behind IBF, as regulars know), and water draining all the way down to the corner drain at SE Rhone Street (about 1 block to the east).

But inside IBF? Dry as a bone, thanks to Mark. No water from the taps, thanks to the water main break, but that's to be expected. And access? Those of you who approached the shop from the back side (which is sometimes a bit more convenient, given the store's unique location) found that the shop was open from the back door and you could get in and get to the main part of the shop via the framing department.

So … yay, Mark!

Like IBF and Portland Independent Art Stores, or you'll disappoint me. Seriously. I may cry.

Liquitex's "The Acrylic Book": A Unique Art Supply

2024.For a person who produces rathermuch less art than he's able, I am one with an endless fascination for art supplies. I just walk into an art supply store, and I feel refreshed. I don't know why that is.

But I do know enough about oils and watercolors to take 'em out, slap some on some ground, and paint away even if I don't know what end I'm working to. But there's one art material that intimidates me, and that's acrylics.

Acrylics are amazing, actually. They can be thin like watercolors, or thick like oils. They lend themselves to a great many styles and modes of painting.

And once they dry, they're permanent. You can't lift color as you can with watercolors. They're durable, but one mistake and you're forever, as several pullover shirts lost to history when I was a kid playing with acrylic paint-by-numbers would testify to – if they were still around. And that's what spooks me.

Seriously, I don't know why. Oil paints don't scare me, and they are just as demanding in thier way.

Anyway, we were at one of our favorite places a couple of days ago (I've Been Framed at Foster and Powell), and The Wife™ picked up an amazing little book. Doubtlessly compiled to help sell the brand, Liquitex's The Acrylic Book is also simply a very engaging book for any artist. It explains acrylics, what they can do, what they can't do, and shows what artists-grade acrylic paint can be made to do with a bunch of suggestions for techniques, crafts, and applications.

What really won me over about this book was, even though Liquitex claims copyright on it, and you can buy it off the shelf for about $5, you can copy it off and give it out to your friends, enemies, and frienemies.

Seriously. Here's the notice from the back page (emphasis theirs):

The ColArt Group, maker of Liquitex products, authorizes the reproduction of the copyrighted information included in the Liquitex Acrylic Book, s the information specifically appears in the publication. Excerpts and sections taken from The Acrylic Book may not be reformatted or edited in a way that compromises the integrity and accuracy of the publication. Information reproduced from The Acrylic Book and used in instructions, printed materials, or on a Web site must be credited to Liquitex®. The Liquitex Acrylic Book is under license from ColArt Group.

Which I just think is kind of nifty. They seriously want you to have a copy of this book. How seriously? Well, it's a bargain at $5 off the shelf ... or you can just download a free PDF copy.

An interesting and compelling way to get people to try out acrylics, at least. We approve.

Technorati Tags: Liquitex, Acrylic Paints, Artist Acrylic Paint, Free Art Stuff, The Acrylic Book

Robert Gamblin and Navigating Color Space

2005.I visited the Gamblin Artist Color website today and got a bit of a lesson in color mixing.

Robert Gamblin has a very impressive resume. He has worked as a colorman for the Smithsonian Institution in recreating paintings and for 25 years he's produced colors for the professional artist (and the artist who aspires to be professional) from Gamblin Artist Colors.

The company specializes in the production of oil paints and associated media. His company doesn't make water colors, but oh, I wish it did!

Mr. Gamblin has his own view of the 3-D view of color relationships, and he calls it "Color Space". This takes the theoretical information encoded by theorists such as Munsell, creating a volume aligned along Hue, Intensity, and Value axes and forges from it a practical way of looking at color which strives for predictablility in mixing and working from known quantities to produce expected results. As still a beginner in my autodidactic color theory activities, I was quite surprised at how doable his approach makes it seem to be.

He has a short video, Navigating Color Space, which tells you all about it. You can buy a copy to keep for yourself at the rather reasonable price of $11.95 from his company's website or via your local Gamblin retailer, but if you want to know what he has to say right now, the video is hosted on his website at the Navigating Color Space page, which you can view for free.

At first, the Hue/Value/Intensity structure seemed familiar, but as I said before, the Gamblin Color Space concept is about practical use. It allows you to, given the paints you have, view the space as something you can traverse on the way to something you can achieve. It also, in relating to various eras of painting, give you an idea of the palette you should start with to get to the colors that you want to use. Particularly instructive was the way Mr. Gamblin related the various eras, represented by the old Masters, the Impressionists, and the modern painters, to volumes in the Color Space, so if you're going for a look of a certain era and a knowledge of the paints you have available (particularly of the Gamblin line) you know where to start with a minimum of guesswork.

Screenshot of Navigating Color Space from
the Gamblin Color website. All rights remain with creator.

It turns out to be a very useful tool, and its logic is quite accessable to those who know the color basics of warm, cool, value, neutral, and such

Essentially the takeaway I got was that to have access to the colors I want, I can use Gamblin's rationale to more aptly choose the basic colors I start with.

Late in the video, the artist himself demonstrates his highly logical palette logic, which he calls "unzipping the color wheel", where the palette itself gains a sort of inherent intelligence.

The video I found enjoyable in the main because it demonstrates rather clearly the bridge from abstract color theory through to practical application and, moreover, presents it in a way that one can actually picture using. It also speaks to the obviously deep simpatico that Robert Gamblin has with color itself.

As a delightful postscript, we became aquainted with the Gamblin range of "Portland Grays", formulated by the artist and inspired by our long cozy gray winters. One thing's for sure; Robert Gamblin knows Portland.

Mr Gamblin? Are you sure we can't talk you into branching into watercolor?

Technorati Tags: color, color theory, art matierials, Gamblin Oil Paints, Color Space

A Visit To Muse Art and Design, or Gamblin Torrit Gray; We Haz It!

2003.A few discourses back I mentioned stumbling on news of a new art supply store here in town, Muse Art and Design. Today, we got a chance to check it out, and we were well pleased.

It's a cozy little space tucked in just to the east of yet another vintage store on the corner of SE 42nd and Hawthorne, on the south side. It goes back a ways, and is a little store, but they pack a lot in there, oils, watercolor, acrylics, inks, the requisite endcap for Sumi-e materials (I joke, but you do seem to find them everywhere), Copic markers for the manga-ka, even beeswax for encaustic.

The web page touts affordable prices and this is one boast, I'm happy to say, that gets lived up to. There were a whole lot of affordable art materials there, including Daniel Smith watercolors (I understand you can't find those too many places hereabouts) and everything had a price break on it. My mind is hardly an eidetic store but I dont remember getting too much sticker shock there.

Prices were reasonable and the stock was of a rather respectable quality, with all the brands you'd expect to find in a first-rank art store. The fellows behind the counter were affable and approachable and loved chatting about what they were doing with the store.

Particularly this month they're having an artist a day come into the store and set up shop in the front window, to have the work product displayed on the walls, day-by-day (they already have the canvases up for them–speaking of which, they have an excellent selection of grounds as well).

Now, mind you, we have a powerhouse art supplier in Art Media and Aaron Brothers will do in a pinch. But I do think that the Portland area can (and ought to) support a few more good art supply sources in town, and Muse Art and Design certainly deserves support. We plan on returning there from time to time; I'm taking up manga, see, and they sell Copic markers ...

Anyway, the other thing to come out of this is that, well, y'all'l remember a few missives back I reported on Gamblin's unique and brilliant idea to take the particulate out of the Torit filters and create the unique Torrit Gray. Around the first of April, Robert Gamblin sends Torrit Gray out to art supply stores where it's free for the asking.

While at Muse, I asked. And they did. Here's the proof:

PROMOTIONAL, NOT FOR RESALE, says the label on the top; below the logo, we have In honor of Earth Day, we make this color from recycled pigments collected from our air filtration system. Which, as I've said before, is cooler than cool.

With the reputation for quality and the commitment to being awesome to the environment that this suggests, I, not for the first time, wish that Gamblin made watercolors.

Also I mentioned that Gamblin does a Torrit Gray painting competition, and it's on; you can submit three paintings made with Torrit Gray, white, and black (a value study; always challenging). First prize is $500, and there are two $350 Honorable Mentions.

Information can be found at http://gamblincolors.com.

I don't know if I'm going to submit anything. I will be playing with this though.

Technorati Tags: art, art materials, art supply stores, Muse Art and Design, Gamblin Artist's Colors, Torrit Gray

A New PDX Art Supply Shop: Muse Art and Design

1993.Just got wind of this one via a little bird: we have a new art supply star to add to the firmament.

Muse Art and Design is located at 42nd and SE Hawthorne Blvd and has a brief little page up, not too much on the stock and what they got yet, but some good basic information and enticing enough to get you to get a toe in and see what their all about.

The rationale seems to be professional-level encouragement for everyone to produce something, because creating something feels good! (We can relate):

Whether you've been creating art for years, or just starting, you'll find a full range of QUALITY ART SUPPLIES at Muse Art and Design, along with affordable prices, and friendly, knowledgeable service. Have an idea but not sure how to get started? We'll help you choose the right materials to fit your budget.

We haven't browsed an art supply store in a while (it's a wonderful experience). We think this one would require a visit, perhaps. Will report back.

Technorati Tags: art, art materials, art supply retailers, PDX art supply retailers, Muse Art and Design

Color In The News: Gamblin's Unique Torrit Gray

1978.When going over what I could find out about color today, I was pleasantly surprised that not only was color in the news, but that it was a well-regarded Oregon maker of world-famous oil paints that was making the news.

Gamblin Artists Colors, I've the impression, is a company in the tradition of the colormen of the 16th and 17th centuries–utterly committed to providing artists with the best-concoted oil paints. Oil paints in and of themselves are a fascinating medium, whether or not it's your medium of choice (what painting I do I do in watercolor), and are, as far as I am aware, a very simple thing; you mix powdered pigments (some of them quite nasty and made from heavy-metals) and linseed oil.

Gamblin brings their "A" game by committing utterly to not only quality but also by a committment to being kind to the environment–very wise considering the qualities of some of the pigments, and very appropriate, being an Oregon company. In their studio, an efficient filtration system removes any particulate matter using products from a company called Donaldson Torit. Throughout the manufacturing and sample process, doubtlessly samples and bits of paint are discarded. Add all this waste together, colorwise, and what do you get?

Gray. In the ideal paint world, when you mix a great many colors together, the colors do not necessarily sum up to black; what they do is neutralize each other (an ideal red mixed with an ideal violet, for instance, being complementary (note they are 180 degress away from each other on the color wheel) cancel each other out to the degree they are ideal, resulting in, not black but gray).


If you mix together all the paint-leavings from around the studio and the particulate strained out of the air in the Torit filters, the result is, apparently, a luminous, somewhat pearly gray, with a green note. John Foyston of The Big O tells the story:

Each February, cardboard drums of pigment powder trapped by the factory's Donaldson Torit air filter are added to an oil base and buckets of waste paint, then run through the roller mill that gives Gamblin paints their trademark silky texture. Torrit Grey (with an extra "r" to avoid any trademark infringement) is the result, and it's packed into date-coded 37-milliliter tubes marked "always complimentary, not for sale" and then given away -- 11,000 of them last year -- to artists, students and teachers starting every Earth Day.

Torrit Grey is always free and it's always gray, because that's what happens when you mix together pigments from the dozens of different paints that Gamblin makes and sells to artists around the world. But don't think that gray is a synonym for boring: Any artist worth her palette knife knows that gray is a many-splendored thing. Far from being simply black and white, gray has a range of hues and shades -- they are the mid-tones that make up much of our visual world.

So it should be available in your local gentlemany art supply emporium pretty soon now. Locally I trust Art Media and Utrecht for new art supplies. You will, likely, not find this at your local Michael's, but I might be wrong about that.

Something else that occurred to me was that the Gamblin company (and, by extension, Mr Gamblin himself) are very canny marketers. Each Torrit Gray tube is as individual as what sold that year, and each are valuable in and of itself as subtly distinctive and individual.

It's a quirkiness that lends itself to amazing self-expression. The Gamblin concern even runs a contest each year for the most creative work produced by an artist using Gamblin Torrit Gray, White, and Black oils. Using these three colors is a bit of a challenge, because instead of using color, which, even when inexpertly-mixed, can tell a very subjective story with relative ease, using just black, white, and gray means you work only with value–the relative whiteness or blackness of a thing. As it happens (and this I've found true when you reduce your canon or your working tools to minimum) limiting your range to simply values seems to infuse even more creativity, resulting in works that are even more moving and compelling than you'd think. Gamblin's current gallery of Torrit Gray competition works can be found here; if they change it, just go to the Gamblin page and look up Torrit Gray.

Gamblin has a reputation of care and committment I find admirable. Torrit Gray is a brilliant stroke of genius. If Robert Gamblin only did what he did for oil paints to watercolors, I just shudder to think what would result.

Visit the Gamblin company here.

View the Oregonian article here, complete with a nifty video about how they do it.

(illustrations were taken from the Gamblin site for purposes of illustration only. All copyrights and rights obtain to them)

Technorati Tags: Gamblin, Torrit Gray, oil paints, best enviromental practices, Oregon Companies