The Process

I work mainly in dry pastel, although I do puddle a bit in acrylic. Pastel is a dry pigment that is pressed into stick form and is used by the pastelist to make pastel paintings or drawings. It is the same pigment used in water color, oil and acrylic. When pastel meets paper it deposits its” self in the pores of the paper where it resides until it is disturbed by something such as a shirt cuff (unintentional) or eraser (intentional). Thus, it is a good idea to protect a pastel painting soon after completion by framing it under glass. Many people think pastel is a difficult medium to control. In my home there are smears of pastel on my studio phone, light switches computer keys, clothing, coffee cup and anything else I normally touch, perhaps this is what these people are referring to. I must add though, the two Siamese cats have managed to stay pretty much pastel free.

My working surface of choice is Wallis sanded paper. It is a wonderful, strong heavy paper that will withstand an incredible amount of abuse and holds a ton of pastel. Other than folding it up and stomping on it, it is tremendously correctible. As Wallis paper is not cheap, I painstakingly complete a detailed layout on vellum paper before committing to a sheet of cherished Wallis inventory. Once I have the image from the vellum transferred to the Wallis, the fun begins. I usually“Turp” in the first layer of pastel. This is a process where pastel is applied as an under painting and a solvent, such as odorless turpentine or alcohol, is used to dissolve the pastel pigment into a paint to achieve an even undercoat and aids in hiding the white of the raw Wallis paper. The undercowill either contrast or blend with additional layers of pastel. This all works rather nicely. For example, you want to paint a tree against a blue sky. You underpaint the sky, turp, let it dry, which fixes it, then you can paint your tree right over the sky without trying to put in sky holes and other detail later. This is possible with the Wallis paper – not with most other papers though.

Once finished, the pastel is matted to keep it away from the glass of the frame; then framed – sometimes with a spacer to keep the pastel even more distant to the glass of the frame. Often, pastels will flake. This is a crappy little side affect that deposits little specks of pastel upon a nice clean off-white mat. This can be over come by spraying a thick layer of fixative on the finished pastel which basically turns it into an acrylic painting and eliminates all the luminosity you strived to achieve by using pastel. Thus, it is a far, far better thing you do, to clean a mat occasionally then to goop up your pastel with a can of sticky, foul smelling spray. Some collectors find fault with a flaking pastel. They are under the impression that a few flakes means the image is so fragile someone slamming a door might provide enough of a jolt to turn the entire image into a pile of pastel dust at the bottom of the frame. This is simply not the case. Pastels are extremely long lived. They are a pure pigment, they are extremely fade resistant. They do not crack, peel or chip. If kept dry they will last indefinitely; i.e., do not hang an original pastel painting in the bathroom.

The Artist

The Artist
I normally sign my art “ZESZOTARSKI.” I feel that putting my first name “Gregory,” in front of this last name would be too much. I always think that “Zeszotarski” just sitting there at the bottom of a picture (usually lower left) gives a feeling of mastery; i.e., “He owns an original Zeszotarski.” Besides, Degas, probably the greatest pastelist of all time, just signed his work “Degas.” One name is enough.

I have been making art for as long as I can remember. My mother taught me the fundamentals of drawing. At an early age she taught me a light touch with the pencil as opposed to the death grip my peers would employ as they engraved the subject upon the Manila paper. In school, I loved art, but my parents, being practical people, were hard pressed to encourage their offspring to enter the arts. It was a fine pastime, but you were destined to a life of poverty, probably alcoholism and most likely an early demise in the pursuit of a life devoted to the arts. For the most part I felt they were right, living in a coldwater flat over a pool hall was not something I wanted to aspire to. So, I became an engineer spent the better part of my life designing things that were of limited use, with an incredibly short life span; however, it did pay the bills. But I kept drawing and painting, and took some classes and learned, and made art whenever I could. I accumulated a nice library of art books and from these, I have also learned. So here I am today, in my tiny studio that is crammed with all manner of art materials. The sounds are of public radio, or classical music, the smells are of paper, canvas, paint, and of course coffee. Here I exist in my little part of heaven.

Why Cowguy?

Why you might ask do you use the name "Cow Guy?" As an artist I have been creating cow art for a number of years. My wife and I participate in outdoor art shows and often as fair goers approach our booth you hear such remarks as "Here's the Cow Guy's booth," or "The Cow Guy is over here." We sell small 5x7 inch prints of my cow creations and they have become a collectable item for many people. The lovely fellow in the picture is an example of my work. We also have a cow couple in the basket of a hot air balloon, "Just the Two of Us," then there is "Born to be Wild" a cow with motorcycle sunglasses, and "The Four Seasons," Jimmy and Margarita (on the beach with drinks with little umbrellas), "Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy," (our Christmas cow), "Sweetie Pie and Cool Dude" (the loving couple), "The Beach Boys," (standing in shallow water, yellow COWABUNGA surf board stuck in the sand between them all wearing outrageous sunglasses) these and many more. Then of course there was the full size fiberglass cow for the 2006 Wisconsin CowParade (presently residing in the National Dairy Shrine in Fort Atkinson, Wi and most recently a bench with a cow theme for a local 150 years of being a town celebration. Yes, cows are definitely us.