The smell of linseed oil in the morning
My daughter told me yesterday that the studio smells like "old chip shop and sadness." I had to laugh. To me it's the smell of work, of a day beginning properly. But she's not entirely wrong, that linseed, that turpentine, it does hang heavy. I don't even notice it until I leave and come back. Then it hits me.
There's a painter I know who switched entirely to water-mixable oils a few years ago. Says his wife couldn't take the fumes. I understand. But I can't do it. Something about the smell is part of the process for me, like the feel of the oil in the brush. It's a sensory anchor. Without it I think I'd paint differently, more timidly maybe.
Curious if anyone else has that one sensory thing, smell, sound, a particular light, that they can't separate from making work.
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My father used to say the house smelled like "pennies and hard work." Wasn't a compliment either. But I get what you mean.
The smell is a signal. It tells your brain you're about to work. I've had the same stone dust smell follow me for thirty years and I still don't notice it until someone else walks in and makes a face. Then I realize the whole place is coated in a fine grey film and I'm breathing it in.
Can't switch to water-based anything. Not for the smell, but because the material behaves different and I know this one. At a certain point you stop messing with what works. Your painter friend made a practical call. Nothing wrong with that. But you don't owe anyone an explanation for keeping your process.
That's it exactly. The material behaves different and you've already put the years in learning this one. Why start over?
My dust is stone, not paint, but same thing. I come in from the balcony some mornings and the whole place is white with marble dust and I just... live in it. Visitors cough. I don't notice.
Your father's "pennies and hard work", that's going to stick with me.
The marble dust thing, I didn't know that. Do you ever miss the smell when you're away from it for a while? I do, with the oil. After a holiday, first day back, I just stand there a minute before I start.
"Pennies and hard work", that's good, I'm keeping that. You're right about the signal. My brain doesn't shift into paint mode until I've got a brush in my hand and that smell in my nose. Skip it and I'm just standing there like an idiot for ten minutes.
And yes, exactly. The material. Water-miscible isn't the same. Maybe it's fine for some things but I don't want to have to learn a new body of knowledge at this point. I know how oil moves, how it dries, how to fix it when I've made a mess. That's not nothing after twenty-five years.