Lost my best bud a little while back.
Knew I wanted to do a painting of him, and had a few pics selectedย that I’d shot one morning of him laying out in the sun to work from.
I’ve always done paintings of loved ones who’ve passed. It’s sorta been my way of saying goodbye. I think about them as I work, and try to paint how I remember them into the painting a little bit. It’s a nice way to work through those feelings, and in the end to I made a nice little memorial piece that lives on in some way.
But I couldn’t do it with Bob. I managed to get a drawing done and transferred it to a panel, but I could not bring myself to paint it. I’d look at the photos and I’d just fucking lose it.
I’ve lost plenty of people I’ve cared about deeply over the years, but none affected me as deeply as losing my Bob.
I think it was the combination of having been around each other 24-7 for the past 7 years, the cancer, amputation, chemotherapy and the personal investment involved…and we just vibed in a way I never had with another animal. His passing was like a nuclear bomb of grief and loss. I can’t believe how bad it hurt.
So this panel sat on my easel for 3 months waiting to be painted.
Last week I finally sat down and started working on it. I started with his face and worked down into his body, getting it massed in wet in wet.
I worked straight into a white gessoed panel and used a lot of hogs hair bristle brushes to get more brokenย edges and allow the white to show through in areas. I’ve incorporated this more and more into my stuff over the years. There’s an abstracted quality to this method that tends to play well with my habits.
Once I got the body laid in, I began working the background. started to frame some stuff around the head, but then I jumped into the ground, scrubbing it in with a large flat brush. I scrubbed a lot to get those softer value transitions that occur in dappled sunlight.
Once I had the ground scrubbed in, I dove full on into the background, working directly with hogs hair brushes, sticky Half dried paint and no thinner or medium to get that broken edge look I was talking about earlier.
Then I glazed the ground plane with a thin layer of pthalo green and Indian yellow and started bringing everything together.
Past couple days I’ve been trying to figure out the best way to do the grass, but I think I have an idea of how to approach it now.
Reworked the head a bit today, repainted the eye, his nose, and changed the ear. Looks a lot more like him now I think. Spent some more time on that front leg and the paws too.
We’re at that point in the painting where everything is in, and it’s just about figuring out how to close out areas now. How far to take things vs what to leave alone or sand out.
still needs some more love, but It’ll get there.
Wish he was here to fling drool all over it though lol
We’ve fostered dozens of seniors over the years. The ones nobody wants, the crippled and the infirm – so no stranger to the loss, but some…some are special, the ones you’re never, never ready to bid farewell.
Love the painting so far, and thanks for the bit of insight into your method!
We lost one of our pups earlier this year as well. I am not being hyperbolic when I say it was the hardest thing I’ve ever gone through. This is a beautiful tribute to Bob.
So true , when you bond with a dog like this it is so difficult. Took me a year just to be able to look at photos of him, and I always do struggle. But you are so right to say that its a good grief passage to do a portrait . Helps to remember the good (their love) and delete the bad ( illness).
thank you to share this difficult moment, it help other to remember the true-true LOVE ๐
Beautiful painting by the way !!!
I think creating a painting of a lost family member is a beautiful way to channel your feelings and memories. The painting is looking great, a perfect testament to your olโ pal Bob.
I did a similar painting for my old hound. I kept having to stop partway through it because it was just…hard. Two years later I finished it and it hangs in my hallway with his old collar and I pass it several times a day.
You do your boy proud with this piece.
I’m sorry for your loss man. I can tell by the way you’ve portrayed him before, and how your personality is, that Bob was like a child to you. I can also relate to that feeling of thinking you’ll handle the grief of losing your fur baby better than you would and just crumbling. It’s good to hear that you’ve processed enough to work on this. I think it’s a testament to what art can really tell us about ourselves.
Thanks for sharing this, and the struggles that came along with it.
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