Deb McCarroll

Icarus Lives 40″ x 40″ x 1.5″ (102cm x 102cm x 4cm) – Acrylic with gold leaf under selective gloss/matte varnish on stretched canvas.

I’m pleased to tell you that my painting (Icarus Lives 40″ x 40″), has placed in the Light Space and Time ‘Figurative‘ competition. The gallery received 623 entries from 27 different countries around the world. I placed in Special Merit – Paint & Other Media. There’s some really lovely and compelling work and I encourage you to peruse. Special shout out to dancer Savannah Fuentes for the inspiration and poses.

I’m always striving to bring complexity and depth to my work. I want to give viewers everything I can in a painting, so years ago I began to experiment with surface treatments to add a little more depth and richness to a work as a whole.

Light is inconstant and transitional. A painting is ever-changing in color and mood at different times of day and with various light sources so I wanted to be able to use this phenomenon to, literally add another layer to the viewing experience.

In contrasting varnish types, a painting can almost vibrate with energy in certain light or appear placid and peaceful from another angle or in evening, versus morning light.

At exhibitions of my work I love seeing people move around a painting, bobbing up and down to read a ghosted word or see blocks and strips of surface appear and fade. Strangers discuss the work. They smile and study the piece, nodding and pointing. To me, this is what art is. A human interaction, causing communication and introspection. It makes the creation of a painting an exciting prospect and I hope it encourages people to dive deep with a full, personal experience.

The Shanti Arts competition results for ‘The Dance’ group exhibition are in and I’m pleased to say my painting ‘Cafe Cantantes’ has been accepted. The 30″ x40″ work on cradled wood panel has since been sold and is hanging in a lovely home in New Orleans, LA. So happy to have been selected to be part of this vibrant show.

Thinking beyond the canvas or flat panel can lead to some revelatory and rewarding endeavors. I’ve been playing guitar since I was a wee lass so szhooshing up a six string feels like the natural evolution of the instrument. In the past year I got my hands on a Snapdragon folding travel guitar and I absolutely love it. The tone and workmanship of this little workhorse is incomparable. The front was fitted in bamboo and it was nice but I thought I could put my own mark on it. I’m very happy with the result and it’s a real pleasure to play. If you’ve laid some paint on your own axe, follow my Facebook link and lay it on me! I’d love to see what other folks have done.

I am so proud to have been accepted to the Four Freedoms project from Still Point Arts. The project is a reinterpretation of Norman Rockwell’s Four Freedoms paintings.

I am stunned to learn that my painting For Sale made the cover, as the publication contains the work of over 50 talented artists and writers from all over the US, as well as from Canada, Israel, Australia, and Hong Kong. The issue features photography, paintings, collages, fiction, poetry, and creative non-fiction that present a stark picture of where the United States stands on issues of freedom at this time in our history—the year 2018, almost 250 years after our country’s founding. Thank you to Still Point Arts for this profound work.

I’m lucky to live in a city with abundant natural resources. Threaded with water reflecting green places and jutting mountains, Seattle has no shortage of wildlife living within reach of traffic jams and towers of steel and glass.

I was driving over one of the floating bridges and found inspiration from a blue heron wading for lunch. Nature is astonishingly resilient and adaptive.

This new series serves to remind us of the fragile beauty in the most unlikely of places and our responsibility to respect and preserve.

Acrylic with rainwater wash and gold leaf on 1.5″ wood panel 36 x 12

We in the northwest corner of the United States live with a lot of rain and this winter has seemed exceptionally wet. I’ve been very influenced by the Pacific Northwest climate and I’ve been painting rainy scenes since I moved here years ago. I grew up in the desert climate of New Mexico so the showers here are pretty astonishing to me, even still.

In my search to find new ways to be inspired in those long expanses of gray and wet, I was working in the studio on acrylic under painting options. The surface was dry to the touch but not cured and a droplet from the washed brush happened to fall. When I wiped it away the water took the surface with it. This produced a string of expletives at first. But as I stared at the blemish in the expanse of color it occurred to me that I could use all those droplets to my advantage. Instead of just painting a picture of the rain I could paint with the rain, using it as a tool to elevate a piece with subject matter ABOUT rain and all that implies, but also creating an actual impression OF the rain.

I prepared another background and waited for it to dry. As it rested in the studio I stepped outside to find the rain had subsided. If the surface dried too much the rain wouldn’t wash away the paint. This is what I believe people call a “teachable moment”. A realization that sometimes one must surrender to circumstances and hope for the best. Letting go of the control and just being in that moment with the smell of the wet and the pat-pat sound of the dripping trees was truly peaceful and oddly thrilling.

I went to check on the painted board. Dry. I set up a camera under the awning, hauled out the easel and checked the sky. Suddenly, the clouds opened up and it began to pour. I ran for the painting, set it on the easel and let the rain do its thing. I held my breath as I pulled the squeegee. Sculptural shapes of elegance and grace appeared. I nearly cried.

Today the sun is out and there is blue sky. But I have several boards stacked and ready. So I listen to the weather. And for now, I just wait for that glorious rain.

I’ve been watching hummingbirds lately. I put a feeder outside my studio window in our unseasonably warm Seattle January. They seem to be of another dimension. The acrobatics are, of course, astonishing but the more I watch the more it seems they barely touch the world we perceive. I went to refill the feeder and one of them hovered near me, seemingly trying to work out what I was. This seemed a great metaphor for all the unknowns we face as the world spins us round. With every day that passes I become more aware and interested in time so that has become a theme in my current work. Birds are a great vehicle on which to hang these impressions. They’re fleeting and delicate and as beautiful as they are ubiquitous. Also, they’re dinosaurs. And they can fly. So as subject matter, you cannot do better.