I left the sketch for a couple of days, and when I came back to it, I immediately knew what need to be finished. I layered and painted until my sketchbook paper protested by bubbling.
At the student art show, I completely forgot to take pictures of Amanda’s finished portrait. Well without further ado:
After I added the finishing touches to this piece, I immediately turned it in to the gallery. So a few weeks later when I picked it up, I noticed that the piece changed a little bit. You’re blind if you didn’t notice the very obvious warping (nicely accentuated by the black mat board). Whatever. I’m still really proud of the piece. And me saying that about any of my artworks is a novelty.
I wanted to keep my sculpture white instead of trying a patina. My professor suggested a milk finish.
I used organic skim milk (because I had some left over in my fridge, not because I’m a organic food snob) on my sculpture. I got up to about five coats…and then I stopped counting. Let’s just say that you should keep painting until a nice translucent shine is achieved.
Safe to say that using milk as a finish was incredibly successful. Next time I think I might try to use whole milk. A friend in my class decided that she wanted to try a milk finish and you can see on her sculpture that the finish is a bit more opaque.
Sadly, my crappola, cheap, digital camera will never be able to capture the painting well. But the image is not too shabby:
Elvira saw the painting in the works on the blog, but I told her she had to SEE the final painting. Apparently, when I told her the canvas was huge…she didn’t think I meant…well…HUGE. She’s failing horribly at an attempt to recreate the expression in the painting. :-)
She couldn’t stop laughing, which is something I always associate with Elvira. So I found it intriguing, when I watched her reactions to the painting, that I captured not the friend that I know well, but a different side. I don’t know if that’s a good mistake or a bad judgement on my part that I had the chance to paint a good friend of mine and made her appear to be contemplating impending doom or whatever.
I was going to paint the Elvira I know, but I was already afraid to begin the painting. I honestly thought it would turn out to be a catastrophe like the small painting I did of Al Gore. But you learn things from disasters (or at least you’re supposed to) so I avoided the problems I encountered with Al Gore’s portrait.