Paintings from Sunset Series by Spence Munsinger, Color Field + Blank White Canvas + Realism + Contemporary Abstract Art, original paintings for sale

The Art we look at is made by only a select few.
A small group create, promote, purchase, exhibit and decide the success of Art.
Only a few hundred people in the world have any real say.
When you go to an Art gallery
you are simply a tourist looking at the trophy cabinet of a few millionaires…"
— BANKSY

Archives for May 2013

Don’t let the door hit you on the way out…

Shiny New Server...

Shiny New Server…

 

Don’t Let The Door Hit You On The Way Out

A metaphor for: “I think you should leave. Do not pause or delay while you are leaving.” Generally used when the addressed has been complaining about circumstances that the listener doesn’t agree with. It comes from a time when doors were on spring hinges and if you paused in the doorway while exiting, the door would spring closed behind you and hit you on the backside.

from Urban Dictionary

I love making things work right. My website ends up being an obsession every once in a while. It’s an exercise in directed attention, a graphic design emphasis I don’t do as an artist very often right now.

I was getting frustrated because my hosting company had several outages system wide over the past few weeks. This happened often enough that I set up monitoring to start to find out what was happening when I wan’t looking. Even once those major outages were resolved I kept finding my site unavailable for several minutes at different times during the day. The tech people there said it was locking up because something was using up all the memory I was allotted, freezing everything else and taking the website down until the memory usage dropped back into a more normal range and other processes could function. It was hard to resolve, because they would tell me how much memory I would have to work with if I went to the next pricing level, but not what I was allotted at present. Sigh.

I profiled the site with some performance tools, and found some things to fix, but nothing that stood out as a runaway memory hog. And overall the whole site felt sluggish even when it was working. So… Rather than hmmm and hah, and continue to complain – new hosting.

I use a French company as a domain registrar because their contract was rated one of the most advantageous for the domain owner, fair and reasonable and clear. They’ve been outstanding. They started hosting just after I switched the last time, and I would have gone with them then if they had been up and running and taking customers. Their prices have been reasonable, and that extended to their hosting. According to Pingdom, I went from slower than 87% of other websites to faster than 79% of other websites. I’ll take that, it looks alot more professional when your site opens and loads effectively and fast.

So, that’s been the last couple of days. Backing up and restoring mysql databases, transferring and compressing web images, fixing broken links, profiling plugins and finding and fixing bugs or finding replacements.

So far this has been very much worth the unexpected work.

— spence

ADDED 10 November 2016:

This worked for quite awhile. The French company gradually changed their pricing model and it became a bit expensive for my needs. I had 9 GB of space to work with, they used a point system to bill against resource usage and network traffic.

I moved on to Digital Ocean. $20/month, so far excellent uptime, I switched to MariaDB and nginx instead of apache and mysql. All good changes and the site responsiveness went way up.

Learning the Facebook Page world…

sunset #1 | la jolla sunset

I’m learning to work with a Facebook Page, instead of an account.

We have…

About

I am a colorist, using thick paint and painting knives and minimal brushwork, on wood panel and canvas. My painting practice is impressionist, light falling across objects and landscape.

Biography

I’ve created drawings and paintings all my life.

I was born in California. I studied art at UCLA and then studied painting exclusively, starting back at the beginning with charcoal and tone painting and fast 20 second figure drawings. I learned glazing and still-life painting in oils, and over time I found the pattern and ritual and process, the symbols and gestures and motion and color that communicate what I want to say in my painting.

My work starts with color, freezing the visual emotion and pattern of light. It’s not precise, definitive, exact. I no longer color within the lines… It’s motion rather than strict line, abstract enough to bring you into the painting, to contribute and bring the subject and color into yourself and your own memory, your own feeling for light.

I am fascinated by the artistic process. I know for myself how much of it is not conscious deliberate decision, and how much is. The ritual, the placing of the canvas, the decisions about tools and easel and materials, the ordering of paints and canvas and panel, the music and the care and feeding of an iTunes library, and the server it runs on, the wireless network that supports AirPlay, and the Remote app on iPhone or iPad, all of that physical care and process is present. All of that is visible.

You can look at an artist and see the acquired skill set, the tools to judge visual distance against how that works on a surface, the color mixing, the application of paint, techniques mastered and brought into creative tension. That’s at least partially visible and can be implied.

Inspiration, vision, ideas, that also has some ritual and process involved. I go through and mark photos or take photographs to capture ideas and visions that I know I intend to cull and use for painting. The care and feeding of digital cameras is a joy, it satisfies an engineering and creative flow.

But…

In the process itself there is a Zone and a Flow where all of this process and ritual comes together and decisions begin to be made and discovered and followed through without, for me, any consciousness of them as specific and distinct. It’s a moment and a period where all is so still for me, no thought, just motion and process and a flow of observation and finding tools to find in the paint and the surface the painting. Like a sculptor carving away that which is not a face, or a body, the painting comes toward a vision. I have a sense of guiding and of struggle, but no moment I can point to where I decided that blue or that pruple or that purple-green-grey and that line.

Flow and Zone.

…and Personal Information

I’m curious as hell about process, especially my own. I document my painting as a matter of course. I photograph each evening after finishing a session on a painting. I watch the process and the ritual I use to get painting to occur and to find the Flow and the Zone that makes art not just a workmanlike activity for me, but magical and wondrous. It’s very much conscious, the process and the ritual, but the decisions made as a painting comes together are so quick and sure and unseen entirely at a conscious level, that to me, even under my hands, it’s extraordinary magic.

Whether it’s great or good or not is separate. It’s that the painting is right first, that it’s an accurate bringing into being of the concept and the emotion and the moment I had in my mind. Once it translates into the world, those other criterion and judgements are separate and apart.

That and upload a couple of photo albums, Sunsets, and A Painting A Day. And resolve “Error #2032” on trying to upload. I ended up using firefox without issue, but chrome could simply not seem to upload a file no matter what I tried…

Call to ACTION:

Please Like My Page and comment on it!

Thanks!

— spence

 

Video | How I Painted "A Chair in the Sun"

 

[responsive_youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HkMdonuFaQU?rel=0]

 

There isn’t any audio in this, just the progression from photographs I made of the painting at the end of each session. Each progression shows for six seconds. This starts with the photograph I took to capture the light across the chair.

I’m curious as hell about process, especially my own. I document my painting as a matter of course. I photograph each evening after finishing a session on a painting. I watch the process and the ritual I use to get painting to occur and to find the Flow and the Zone that makes art not just a workmanlike activity for me, but magical and wondrous. It’s very much conscious, the process and the ritual, but the decisions made as a painting comes together are so quick and sure and unseen entirely at a conscious level, that to me, even under my hands, it’s extraordinary magic.

Whether it’s great or good or not is separate. It’s that the painting is right first, that it’s an accurate bringing into being of the concept and the emotion and the moment I had in my mind. Once it translates into the world, those other criterion and judgements are separate and apart.

 

— spence

 

How I Paint a Chair in the Sun…

 

process-31
process-31

process-41
process-41

process-141
process-141

process-241
process-241

process-51
process-51

process-61
process-61

process-71
process-71

first_seven_daily-1
first_seven_daily-1

 

 

I am fascinated by the artistic process. I know for myself how much of it is not conscious deliberate decision, and how much is. The ritual, the placing of the canvas, the decisions about tools and easel and materials, the ordering of paints and canvas and panel, the music and the care and feeding of an iTunes library, and the server it runs on, the wireless network that supports AirPlay, and the Remote app on iPhone or iPad, all of that physical care and process is present. All of that is visible.

You can look at an artist and see the acquired skill set, the tools to judge visual distance against how that works on a surface, the color mixing, the application of paint, techniques mastered and brought into creative tension. That’s at least partially visible and can be implied.

Inspiration, vision, ideas, that also has some ritual and process involved. I go through and mark photos or take photographs to capture ideas and visions that I know I intend to cull and use for painting. The care and feeding of digital cameras is a joy, it satisfies an engineering and creative flow.

But…

In the process itself there is a Zone and a Flow where all of this process and ritual comes together and decisions begin to be made and discovered and followed through without, for me, any consciousness of them as specific and distinct. It’s a moment and a period where all is so still for me, no thought, just motion and process and a flow of observation and finding tools to find in the paint and the surface the painting. Like a sculptor carving away that which is not a face, or a body, the painting comes toward a vision. I have a sense of guiding and of struggle, but no moment I can point to where I decided that blue or that pruple or that purple-green-grey and that line.

Flow and Zone.

 

— spence

 

bracelet…

When my daughter was about 12 years old, she came out to stay with me on the East Coast. She brought a book she had made. It was “How much my Dad has given me.” She gave me credit for inspiring her, for showing her how to make a life, for loving her and for always caring. I was in tears reading it. Thank you, Ashlyn.

At 23, she spent a year dying of leukemia. She was 6 days short of a year after diagnosis when she passed away. She lost the ability to concentrate long enough to read. Writing was extremely painful. When not painful, pain meds made it very hard to find any focus. She took photographs, on walks around the hospital grounds. Pieces of the world, captured by an artistic soul, small moments of sharing, with her, her view of the universe.

 

 

When Ashlyn was 19, I gave her a simple silver bracelet. On the outside it said, “When I let go of what I am…”, and on the inside, “I become what I might be.” Shortly after she passed away, I found out it was a treasured possession, that she had worn it all the time. It was bent a bit and well worn. It had meant a lot to her. Way beyond what I was aware of. Like when she was 12 and gave me the book, I was overwhelmed. Overjoyed that it meant so much, deeply saddened by losing her. The last photo I have of my daughter before she went back into the hospital the final time is a silhouette against the night sky and the ocean, as she took a picture with her iphone.

 

 

She managed to hit me hard emotionally by her actions, especially hard once she was gone. I didn’t know she loved and wore the bracelet until after her death, I had not noticed it on her wrist. The last year of her life I spent more time with her than most of the five years before that, but she was wearing no jewelry. She manages to impact me emotionally with the fact of her wearing it, similar to that book she gave me at age 12, which floored me. I just got blind-sided by the deep well of emotion – gratefulness that I was able to be there for her and be part of her life and a huge despair and grief that I could not communicate more and be present more for her than I was… The bracelet was perhaps the ultimate. I had no idea it meant anything to her.

Bracelet and Beads

 

— spence

 

I miss my brother…

My baby brother died Saturday 24 April 2010.

He had a huge presence, he lit up a room. He was there for me so consistently I didn’t even realize what a big part of my life and the lives of my kids he had become.

I will miss him. I hope he knows how loved he is and what a truly good man he was.

— Spence