Rufina: A Work in Progress
2021 was probably the worst and the happiest year in my books. Later that year, I fulfilled a life-long dream of visiting Mexico then got married just a few months after getting engaged. However, when the year wasn’t even halfway-- just when I thought that life can only get better after having been through so much prior to that year…
My maternal grandmother passed away.
Grief is like an unwanted visitor that shows up at your doorstep unannounced. A familiar stranger that comes and goes in brand new form at every encounter. You can keep it at bay but in a way or another, you have to let it in otherwise, it’ll forcefully bang the door until it breaks it wide open. Of course, you alone can decide whether or not it has overstayed its welcome. Grief will eventually leave through the back door but as the host, how long can you let it stay? Would you welcome it with open arms and afterwards, perhaps, thank it for stopping by?
Well, I have always painted that motherfucker.
The motive of this painting is to create a piece in honor of my grandmother whom I now wish to immortalize. Being born into a broken family to be raised by grandparents or relatives (while your mom/dad works to make both ends meet) is a typical household scenario in the Philippines. Most of my childhood memories were alongside my grandma who taught me everything there is to know about life and most especially, kindness. She is basically a part of my being and her death was a downfall I thought I will never recover from. Thankfully, there is a savior called “art”.
I envisioned a narrative of how she “built” me as a person.
Starting with this sketch, I formed the idea of drawing her vintage sewing machine which she unfortunately sold to a scrap shop when I was 10 just so we could make it through the week.
The initial sketch was lacking so it didn’t quite fit my vision. To remedy this, I portrayed my grandma in different stages of her life as I have known her—while doing the hard work that resembles her dedication in raising me the best way she could. In other words, I was the piece and she’s the artist.
Using Neon Pink as under paint, the photo on the right is a color study with acrylic on paper.
Another sketch but in a different perspective. I also placed crack-like effect on the right hand side of the painting splitting myself and my late grandmother as shown—signifying our irrevocable separation caused by death. This is inspired by the principle of Kintsugi, the art of putting back together the pieces of something broken using liquid gold to make it useful and definitely beautiful again. This art is a fascination to me as I connect with its relation to life: the pain we go through is a transformative process necessary for growth.
“Kintsugi [is] not just a method of repair but also a philosophy. It’s the belief that the breaks, cracks, and repairs become a valuable and esteemed part of the history of an object, rather than something to be hidden. That, in fact, the piece is more beautiful for having been broken.”
Here are some of the photo references I came up with in my old bedroom in Qatar in attempts to mimic Kintsugi in a human body. Notice that the light source is pink, like in the case of my “Untitled” painting. Producing your own references plays an important role in your process because not everything is readily available on the internet. It also develops independence and discipline that matches your creative vision. Here, I have total control of the lighting so I could merrily make use of the opportunity to experiment on perspective.
Materials used: remote camera, ring light, pink transparent clip board.
Referencing the final sketch, I began outlining the elements using pencil and my T-square. Note that grids were also used to ensure proportion. Subsequently, using Neon Pink, I laid the foundation a.k.a. under paint.
Color used to outline the initial sketch: Burnt Umber
Tip: the larger the canvas, the larger the brushes needed.
If you’re following my posts for a time now, you might have noticed my fondness of using Primary Blue and the reason behind it.
Even though the under paint is separately applied, the effect of applying blue shades on top of a pink surface can result into purple. This is not entirely a failure. It still fits the story I wanted to tell.
Trying out unconventional approaches because we need a breath of fresh air from time to time, don’t you agree?
The elements are now slowly coming together. I had to constantly remind myself of the light source as objectively as possible. This is usually the fun yet challenging part as it kind of reveals the artist’s analytical and imaginative skills.
Some of the MANY questions I usually ask myself:
What effect does this light source have on the contours of the body?
How would the light reach this area of the painting if an element is blocking the light source?
How can I paint the shadow of a hand on an uneven surface such as the face?
You get the idea.
Second photo: I also have a habit of digitally studying the painting when the progress reaches about 40-50 percent. This way, I can temporarily cure the “itch” of working on a current painting while stuck in a hotel room abroad. This handy method helps me analyze and explore the areas of the painting that need more or less work.
I also assimilated some of the techniques I picked up from the paintings I made prior to this one, namely, the shameless display of texture. I have always painted seamlessly in the past but since expressionism is the current goal, there is no need for perfection.
This is by far the biggest canvas I have ever laid my hands on. While it is still a work in progress, I daresay that the flow of creation on a huge surface is a little easier compared to smaller canvases that require meticulous work on details. However, because I was juggling between painting and a full time job during the process, time constraints were a constant challenge and the completion of this project was once again interrupted by my migration to Denmark.
As of the moment, this painting is rolled and safely kept in my tiny studio here in Copenhagen. If I have to be honest, I do not dislike the idea because, when the time comes, it will give me the opportunity to conveniently sew my late grandmother’s clothes (yes, you read that right) as opposed to dealing with a stretched canvas.
I will be updating this post in the future to share any progress that might hopefully take place soon.
For now, let me find a good pair of scissors and a needle.
