Feb 26th-Sunset On Thorn Mountain

This painting began from a photo I had of a beautiful sunset and a harsh, mountain sillohuette. The sunset itself was enchanging to work, but after painting in the black mountain sillohuette, I felt like the piece still needed something. I decided to give the mountain some dimension and color by adding trees, shrubs and thorns to bring it to life. This took some serious patience on my part, as I had no photo to go by. Figuring out where the light goes when I have no reference is sometimes quite a challenge. I'mglad I stuck with it though; I think it turned out well. It's a funny thing, the urge to paint over something halfway through. I guess it's my way of protesting the results so far; and thinking that what I see before me is going to be the final result. I never regret walking it all the way out. Sometimes it's just some minor tweeks that take a painting to a new level.

Feb 19th-Warm Winter Evening

I've lived in Tennessee for almost ten years now. One thing I really love about it is the change of seasons, and the beautiful snow.
My husband and I have talked on many occasions about having our own cabin. We'd like to build it oursleves, and fill it with handmade things.
Maybe one day this will be our view.

Specifics:
Title: "Warm Winter Evening"
Size: 8 x 10 inch
Medium: Acrylic on panel
2012 Marisa Ray Art

Thursdays With Grandpa Tay

My grandpa Harry Rainey was a tremendous artist. I can't remember what prompted me to ask, but about 16 years ago I had inquired from my grandpa Tay to give me art lessons. We had arranged that after I got off work on Thursdays, I head over to his house for an art lesson after dinner. It was a 45 minute drive, mostly because of exasperating OC traffic, so I spent the night too. I'd get there and grandma Winnie would have a cookie sheet in the oven of cheese sandwiches (her version of grilled cheese I suppose), and a cup of tomato soup or something. After dinner the table would be cleared and grandpa would venture back into his office to get some supplies. We drew mostly, working on perspective and such. It went on for months, and I can't recall why it stopped. I remember grandpa telling me candidly how he'd dreamed when he was young of going all the way with art, including a New York penthouse suite. He had a respectable business in his younger years, drawing ads for clients. It took care of the family comfortably. Now, all these years later, I know he knows what is going on. He died at 89 years old in his modest So Cal home, and I wasn't there. I never dreamed I'd be doing art, and that after all these years later I'd recall those relaxing lessons. For me, at the time, it was just something to do, and I know he got a huge kick out of it.

I am a self taught artist, no one educated me about painting other than what I'd learned in books and by trial and error. But that said, my grandfather taught me something immeasurable. If you believe in yourself, and have people around you who believe in you as well, there's no limit to where you can go. Penthouse and all.

Feb 12th-Texas Sunrise

This is my first attempt to paint a sunrise. In this piece I imagine the day's sunlight is almost fully present. As I've been studying light and its effects (a lifetime pursuit I'm sure), I'm enchanted and frustrated at how hard it is to pinpoint. Nonetheless I think it's pretty the way the freshly debuting light casts a red glow on the plants and landscape here. What a view, huh?

Specifics:
Title: "Texas Sunrise"
Size: 5 x 7 inch
Medium: Acrylic 
 

Feb 5th-Sunset Shack

I grew up 25 minutes from the beach, but to be honest I never really paid much attention to sunsets. I remember driving along PCH and hearing my parents (through my walkman headphones of course) say, “Wow, look at that”; my dad would be pointing toward the sky at which I’m sure was a remarkable scene, but what can I say-I was a teenager and could of cared less. It wasn’t until I started painting again that I began to take notice, and I haven’t stopped studying since. I am unsure that I’ll ever master the subject of sunsets, but I’m at least getting an inch or two closer with this months study. 

Specifics:

Title: “Sunset Shack”

Size: 5 x 7 inch

Medium: Acrylic

2012 Marisa Ray Art

Who I Am, And The Power To Choose

Part of my commitment to this project is to reveal myself. I am working at that through my artwork each week, by giving you little tidbits behind each painting. Today I have no painting to uncover, just some random thoughts you might be able to relate to.

Now, I am a black and white, all or nothing type of person. I am extremely driven, sometimes to the point where I have to take a small does of Nyquil at night to slow my mind down. As some of you know, I gave up music about a year ago. I “laid it on the altar” as we Christians like to say. And so, in a stoic, “prowd to be this strong” way, I put down the guitar and picked up the paint brushes, and haven’t looked back. Everything was going great. In fact better than great. I had sold 25 paintings in 9 months. I was flabergasted, and beyond happy.

Then all of a sudden about a month ago, I was driving up to Nashville to use my Christmas gift certificate at Salon FX. As I exited the interstate at Demonbreum, my chest tightened. I made my way around the circle of “hillbilly porn” as some like to call it, and passed the ASCAP building headed towards the salon. Suddenly a rush of tears built in my eyelids. By now I was sitting in a parking space, tilting my head upwards so the water wouldn’t escape and leave stains on my face (not a good appearance for a massage appointment). I didn’t know that hurt was still there, that pain of immense failure. I had come to Nashville to “be somebody” and had horribly missed the mark. After the massage I was fine.

A day or so later this intense urge to play the guitar overcame me (I sold mine about 7 months ago), and that hurt wanted out again. I sat up in the living room in the dark that and cried. I let it out. I used to be afraid that if I felt the pain, then it made it real. Sometimes admitting to pain is the hardest part.

A week or so after these incidents, Joe and I went to an Encounter retreat. We were asked to write on a paper something we were committed to doing this year and why. I decided I’d get a guitar again, because deep down it still mattered to me. Just because I’m not headed to be super songwriter/singer doesn’t mean I can’t have a guitar. It doesn’t always have to be black or white. Grey is okay sometimes too.

A couple weeks have passed since our weekend retreat. I am not burdened or sad. I simply feel the freedom to choose. That, if I want to play guitar I can. If I don’t want to, then I don’t have to. But I do have the power to choose. A good friend of mind once told me, “You know Marisa, we are never less for creating something new.” She was talking about the fact that I had chosen to start painting. I didn’t understand that then, but I do now.