Johann Wessels
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Blog > how to paint

Posted: May 18, 2012

paint hits stucco... mk II

Hoarknockle had to administer some wine to me after some rebarbative pillock hacked into a quiet corner of the web inhabited by my site and a good many others. The site was down for some time and as you may notice..its back. Sadly my last blog died in the crossfire. And now allow me to return to the classics...erm story about the mural. In order to ansure a quick transfer of image to the wall, I spent a period of darkness drawing the image onto the wall using sidewalk chalk tracing the image projected onto it from transparencies I printed from my artwork...

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Posted: Jan 30, 2012

fleeing the trees

a moment of silence for my dear departed old computer..... here I am pecking away on a venerable old machine which has lasted longer than many. Thank goodness I am able to access my site and blog. Due to lack of digital creative options, I am only using paint right now. This is part of a series of pieces I am making that will go on show in June in Kindrie Grove's studio, along with the works of Liz Marshall and Susan McCarrell. The new landscape I live in is compelling and I am trying to find ways of depicting and interpreting it in my own way...

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Posted: Jan 06, 2012

prime and sand, prime and sand...

The boxes are things of beauty...probably because they already have been imagined in my mind. It is part exciting and part anticipation... rather like Dr Frankenfurter and his creation.."I see you shiver in AN-TI-CI......PATION!!" Which I do..... shiver, that is. Especially after sanding the painted surfaces down time after time, between each new coat. My poor muscles get all trembly and it causes me to pour abnormally large dosages of Mister Beam's finest varnish. And that does calm the trembles a bit...

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Posted: Dec 12, 2011

rusting gently

I tell a story when I make my stuff. It has become my history told in metaphors to the people in this country I was not born in. It's the lot or inheritance as a deracinated body. I feel like an archeologist digging up my layers of memories and explaining them. At times I tell a story and wonder how much is still true and how much has accumulated with each retelling to keep it fresh and entertaining. The opening doors and panels are my schtick. It refers to the opening of a box from which the shreds of history are lifted and how they are often hidden from view...

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Posted: Oct 21, 2011

abstractus

still going on the abstract with the textures and the rust. The landscape is also being worked on but nothing to show today. The abstract is starting to get it together... there are all kinds of little things happening with small areas of colour which I am very happy with. Its developing a really rich texture that allows me to dry brush over it and bring out some of the actual 3D bits.  

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Posted: Oct 20, 2011

smearingly

dipping into something a little more commercial.... this is my take on the landscape I can see from my studio window. I still want to reference my open/close schtick from my more serious work and am hoping to create a small piece for a commercial gallery in town. The painting opens to reveal a wider view of the landscape panorama. Nothing too tricky or strange (maybe I should incorporate something odd?...but it may scare more conservative viewers) Using Golden slow drying acrylic that tends to work a little more like oils, I have done the first layer of colour and had to take a break for time to ponder it and get over the stress of doing something like this...

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Posted: Jun 07, 2011

making something new

I was walking along a pebble beach the other day and struck by how many small sticks had washed up. They were all beautifully bleached almost white and looked rather like bones. There is an expression about "pulling up sticks", which refers to moving away from a place. Since we moved recently and the notion of having to reestablish myself in a new city among unknown people, the idea of the sticks resonated in me. It reminded me rather of Joseph Beuys and his bundles of blankets and fire wood...

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