This baby has a name.

Oh, good Lord in Heaven. You have no idea how much I want to create a painting that I can title "Ennui of Branding" or "Baby Stemmy". There is a crazy amount of cleverness here. It was very, very difficult to choose a name because I knew that I could potentially be publicly flogged on Facebook or Twitter.

In the end I had to leave it to the flower to decide. She chose "Carolina". This is in keeping with a new plan I have for the titling of my small flower paintings. You'll have to stay tuned to see what I name them next.

Amantha Tsaros, Carolina, Acrylic on Panel, 7x5",  ©2011

Teachable Moments

Amantha Tsaros, The Moon's Place, Acrylic on Canvas, 16x12" ©2010

The amazing Marshall Arisman used to tell us, "Inspiration never visits an empty studio." 

It is true, she only ever comes knocking when I am already at work. 

I have to start painting first, then Inspiration will pop in. 

I love her even though she is always fashionably late and fickle. 

Painting with Kids: Quit Yer Bellyachin'

The time spent whining can be better used painting. Or weaving or whatever you do when you are not fetching sippy cups.

I was foolish enough to whine that I did not have enough time to do all the work I needed to do in order to apply for an exhibit.

(But nobody is watching and keeping score of my accomplishments. If I don’t apply it's okay, someone else will and she'll get the show and I'll get a full-color card. I can stay home, watch Bravo TV and eat cereal.)

My friend said, “Just do it.” I thought, “Right. YOU don’t have kids.” And then I realized.

A lot of people have kids.
And a career of their choice.
They just do it. They get up and go to work.
They just do it. Hey, as my  mom would say, “It is a lot of work and I am not dancing in the street over it.”

But they do it.

It was time to do it.

Amantha Tsaros, Moonrise Rose, Acrylic on Canvas, 2011

Title This Bad Boy

I spend too much time sweating out what to title some paintings. In a dark Facebook-inspired frenzy I  toyed with the idea of using profanity for each piece. That was just the frustration talking - I was fresh out of fun. I want the fun back.

What is more fun that a fight-to-the-death contest?

Let's have a contest.

I will post a painting here. And the winner of the title contest will win a set of 5 floral notecards of my paintings. You will get a combination of Red & White, Lightness, and Evening Flower.

Please post in the comments section below the untitled painting. Titling will end at midnight on June 29th. Feel free to share with your clever friends.

Amantha Tsaros, UNTITLED, Acrylic on Panel, 7x5", ©2011

Teachable Moments

My favorite exchanges and quotes from Art School. In the real world very few people will offer real criticism. Or even crazy criticism. It is a shame. I miss constructive crits like this - 

This beauty was taken from a class crit of large monotypes.


Teacher/Artist: "This is a beautiful passage right here.....but this....this is a bad drawing of a bus."

Student: "X, that is a newsstand."

Teacher/Artist: "My point exactly."

Painting with Kids

These are not preschool craft-related posts. This is for those who have children yet dare to make art.

Amantha Tsaros,  Pink Under The Sky, Acrylic on Canvas 6x6" 2011

I got back into the art biz out of pure envy. 

It ate me up how my toddler could just paint with abandon and joy.

I wanted to do that.

So, I did. 

I took up painting which I had thought would be useless – hadn’t it all been done and what would I have to contribute anyway? Now my answer to that is “What? I dunno - who cares? Where is that tube of crazy green paint?”

Now, I paint with abandon and don’t worry.
It is just paint.

I paint to cover 20 years of blank canvases behind me and to cover the miles of uncovered surface ahead. I paint and show my children that Mommy has a life, kiddo. And you can have one, too.

What brought you back?

Killing Cacti

Amantha Tsaros, Twin,  ©2011

The only time I have a green thumb is when there is paint on it. Maybe my interest in painting flowers is some kind of inspiration through ineptitude.

When I went away to college, I bought a little cactus thinking that I certainly could not kill that little thing. I put it on my sad windowsill and watered it and enjoyed it's round red face. One afternoon I took a close look at my spiky friend. When I picked up the pot it's tiny body flopped right over the side. It fainted! It had seemed so healthy a second ago. It's skin and needles seemed fine but inside it had died. I killed its spirit.

This is the pattern of my gardening.

A few years ago my mom gave me a plant and swore I would not be able to destroy it. It was one of those rubbery succulent plants. Very pretty with interesting shapes and a sweet green fuzz. How sweet! As usual, I heard, "You don't have to water it!" I took my plant home and placed it on a table. I happily regarded my mom's gift from across the room and hoped it would survive. Soon it occurred to me that truly this really was the hardiest plant ever. I called Mom.

"Mom? That plant you gave me? It's plastic isn't it?"

Do you need plastic plants?