What a Dream World!

I sometimes wish so very much that you could see my artwork in person. I’m not much of a photographer. My digital images, though I work to balance color, chiaroscuro, and highlights in the photographic representation of a painting, there’s a certain dullness that creeps in when it appears on my website.

I suppose the solution is that I try to paint twice as well if I’m going to show it digitally. It has become a natural process that has been enhanced by the ability to capture huge images in my camera. Then I take them into Photoshop to try to reproduce the exact things I want while reducing it to 96 dpi for the web.

I find myself interacting between the two media: paint and photography, trying to balance everything perfectly so that it is a true representation of my art. That clear and beautiful red that I’ve finally developed doesn’t seem to come through in digital mode as well as the real thing. I need to work with the lighting for photography for different techniques and color masses as well.

How lucky we are with today’s technology; I have no right to complain! A short two years ago, I didn’t have the programs and equipment I have to work – and play – with today. My complaints are mostly about the technology lag in my brain. We live in a tremendously improved world for artists. To enter a show, I don’t have to lug my paintings across town for the professional slide photographers that specialize in art. Digital is king! Some shows want CDs and some want transmitted images, but either way beats getting slides made when everybody in town is going to the only place in town that can make slides. You always ended up sweating the deadline in that scenario.

Eight years ago, when I worked in the art department of The Oklahoman, I needed to visit the photography department to see if I could borrow some film. They grinned their superior grins, said they were almost totally digital now, but would see if there was any film in the refrigerator. Wow. There was one small roll. When I offered to replace it, they laughed. Not necessary, I was told. They no longer had need of film.

In six short years, I finally caught up with the times. I don’t even know where my old Minolta is. But there's still some black and white film in the refrigerator. It’s for the astronomer in the family!

-- Nancy

www.NancyParkFineArt.com

www.Paintslinger.Blogspot.com