Plein Air is Purely Plain Fun!

Sometimes, if you are really, really lucky, everything goes your way. On this day, our last in Colorado, the weather, the river, all was in perfect alignment. I don’t believe this day counts against my allotted number. Like a day fishing, this one just doesn’t count against me. It is just too perfect! Right beside a beautiful park and behind an amazing library, is this little cold mountain creek running into the Yampa River.

Definitely, this is the place for my final painting on this trip.

With a bit of raw umber, I sketch in the trees and the edge of the water.

Ultramarine blue, burnt umber and burnt sienna defines the hills and the river. I’m not trying to get technical, I just want some color and shapes in here. I don’t need the commercial buildings in the background, so will just paint undergrowth where the buildings are intruding.

Hikers walk by and want to visit. Fine with me! While I’m talking, I begin to add some rocks in the foreground. It’s still fairly loose, but I just need to get the main shapes in before I try the detail work.

This is way more fun than it ought to be! No bugs, no wind to dry my paints, just a beautiful day for doing what I’ve always longed to do.

Mixing some Cadmium Yellow Medium with the Ultramarine Blue and a bit of Hooker’s Green, I scrub some leaves and underbrush in, and try to add the shadows and some highlights on the water. I stop frequently to look at the water to see where the darks should be darker and the light values lighter.

It’s time to bring up the light on the rocks and add more foliage to the trees.

Adding Burnt Sienna and Raw Sienna to the water really adds life to the painting. I like the rock in the right foreground – it invites me to sit upon it (could I climb down the steep banks!).

By adding more yellow green to the foliage, deepening the shadows and adding more light to the rocks, I think I’m ready to call this one finished. Just another beautiful day in Paradise!

‘TAIN’T AS EASY AS IT LOOKS: Plein Air Painting 101

I think most artists dream of traveling, painting beside the ocean or a river, or anywhere outdoors in the beautiful natural surroundings. I am no exception. Leaving behind the worst summer of my memory in South Texas, we journey to the mountains of Northwest Colorado. After a day or two of rain (which I will never, ever complain about again), the day dawns bright and sunny in Steamboat Springs. The Yampa River beckons, and with my trusty security guard by my side, we venture out. No matter that my guard probably would take fifteen minutes to leave the car, should a bad guy try to carry me away, I feel very secure setting up my easel and sketching the beautiful scene I want to paint. All I really try to do is show placement: where is the river, the trees, the darkest shading? I might also be stalling, which is a favorite technique I use to avoid actually putting down paint. I’m not alone. Other artists have this little ritual, I’ve discovered.

Next, I’m looking for “local” color – are those rocks warm, or cold? Do I want ultramarine blue for the water, or should I try cerulean blue? I’m also trying to decide where are the darkest darks. For me, this is the scariest part of painting.

I really need those mountains in the background before I can situate myself in this painting. And the green river bank will help me place the water and shadows where I want them.

Now I can begin to block in the shadows and the rocks as I study them more closely. I literally hear a “plop” every now and then as a fish jumps up. I wish my son in law were standing out there fishing. I know he would love this!

With my palette knife, I drag burnt sienna, raw umber and white down to define the cliffs on the left. I make the water move by adding white, and mix some green with cad yellow medium and ultramarine blue and begin to add some foliage. I’m running out of time, but it seems important to bring in more foreground details, letting the water become more alive, and starting to put in some tree trunks. While too white, I need to get all the information in this painting I can. Besides, my body is telling me we need to wrap this up, and soon! Why did I drink three cups of coffee before heading out this morning?

Quickly I add the highway, and the center stripe, load up the paints and head for our condo. Later, when it starts to rain, I can finish the work in our dining room.

Rested and refreshed, I have time to clean up the tree trunks, darken the shadows, add more yellow to the trees. How long did this paint take me? Twenty years, two hours and a few minutes. Traveling to nature’s most beautiful places, taking the time to hear the water flow and thinking about nothing more important than the right shade of green, that’s why I do it. And I invite you to come along with me. It’s a good journey, no matter where the destination!

It’s not perfect, it’s not even worthy of mounting and framing, but it’s a memory captured, a moment in time, and I’m very happy with it.

 

GOD’S GARDEN

IN THE GARDEN

Garden of the Gods, Manitou Springs, Colorado, September 2011. After the rain and the fog of yesterday, I find the perfect day and the perfect place to do what I came to do. Parking the car nearby, this spot with its glorious colors seems to be just what I’ve been looking for. Plein air painting presents some challenges: finding the perfect view, trying to park your vehicle within walking distance of that view, transporting your supplies down or up the hill before the shadows move, dealing with thirst, hunger and other needs that come at inconvenient times, to say nothing of heat or cold, wind and bugs. Ah, there’s nothing like it!

It’s a little windy, and maybe a bit intimidating to be out in front of God and everybody, but I came to paint, and so I will!

Starting with the shadows, I rough in the rocks, trying to decide what to define as the most important information I want to show.

Yep, with the ultramarine blue sky, cad red medium and a little burnt umber, the shadows are beginning to appear. Maybe I can do this.

I can see a resemblance. I’m tempted to stop right now, but womanfully, I plod on. I love stopping to talk with the other tourists – a family of New York City firefighters here for a memorial service, some folks from Napa Valley, California, and a University of Southern California professor wanting to take my picture. Sure hope he isn’t an art teacher! That is really intimidating!

The wind has come up and is really drying my paint. I sort of wish I had brought my oils, but acrylics are so portable!

The sun is really beating down! I wish I’d brought a hat – I’m starting to bring in the greens – they look good against the rocks.

Barb and Tony from California take a number of photos. Nice folks, and very interested in the way the painting is shaping up. This is one of the best things about plein air painting, the people you meet!

Just a few more finishing touches. Besides, that sun is REALLY burning my little gray matter!

Perhaps a little bright, but not bad, for a field study. I can’t wait to paint a BIG oil painting of this one. I can definitely see it over my fireplace!

 

Keep on Keepin’ On

When you begin a painting, you generally will have a vague idea of where you are going. You may, if you are lucky, have a purpose. In this case, I needed an image for a class I’m teaching, and I wanted something bright and lively, easy for a beginning student, and definitely eye-catching. Beyond that, I hadn’t a clue.

So, I looked for photos of sunflowers. I remembered several things: (1) The center lays deep within the flower, tiny seeds not ripe enough to plant, but definitely growing and waiting. (2) The outer ring is full of seed pods. Pulling them out will yield some seeds you can throw to the winds and wait for Mother Nature to take them where She will. (3) The petals themselves are layered, over and over, in rings, so that you can seldom ascertain where one row ends and another begins. Sort of life the cycles of our lives.

So, I began. First, the underpainting in blue. Of course, it will look great with the yellow-gold flower to follow.

Next, begin putting yellow petals, around and around, overlapping and trying not to make the shapes all the same. Remember, no two snowflakes (or sunflowers) are alike!

Adding first petals

Next, using a mixture of cad yellow medium and cad right light, add more petals.

Adding brighter oranges to the petals

Take your time and work around and around, adding more shades of yellow and more petals. Be careful that each shape is individual and that you don’t get the same strokes on every petal. That’s an easy trap to fall into!

Adding seeds

Now the fun begins! Using burnt sienna full strength, load your brush and holding it upright, begin dotting paint around and around, over and over, heavily laying bits of paint, but reserving the space in the center for a different texture and color.

Heading for the center

Add yellow and cad red light to your brown mixture, and paint centers of the flowers with a smoother motion. You want to feel a difference in the textures of the seed pods.

Finishing up

Go back over your burnt sienna outer circle with dots of orange mix, adding dabs of undiluted burnt sienna where petals join outer circle. Using Cad Yellow Light, add a few more petals to increase three dimensional effect.

Now for some leaves:

OH HAPPY DAY

Using Hooker’s Green, add suggestions of leaves, shading with a bit of yellow mixed with the green. Sign and sell this painting. You are done!

Or maybe you want to play with a red hot background. Be my guest, and get creative!

Going a little crazy

I call this OH HOT HAPPY DAY!

Where Do Those Ideas Come From?

One of the challenges an artist faces is: “What to paint?” If you are in a beautiful place and like to do landscapes, that is not normally a problem. If you are working on a series, you generally have a plan. More often than not, thought, the artist finds himself looking at a canvas and thinking: “What in the world am I doing here? I showed up to paint and have no idea where I’m going today!” Then, sometimes, things just begin to fall in to place.

I like to start my day by reading a chapter in the Bible and meditating a while. As I came to a story in the Old Testament, I began to chuckle. God really does have a sense of humor. The story of Jacob and Esau, beginning around Genesis 25:21, is full of family squabbles, parental favoritism, treachery, devious characters, love and finally passion. I don’t ordinarily do paintings influenced by the Scriptures, but this one reached out and grabbed me.

I went out to my studio and sketched a rough outline of Jacob, his two wives, their handmaidens, whom he reluctantly agreed to lay with, and a field of sheep to show his status in life. I thought originally I would call this painting “Poor Jacob,” because he was pressured by his wives to have children by their maidservants. Jealousy lay at the root of this part of the story, as each wife wanted to claim the most children.

This was to be a very lighthearteded painting, representing a story I had enjoyed and had begun to understand as a history lesson.

As I added colors and fleshed out the characters, the painting became very busy – too much so.

Jacob suddenly became overwhelmed by sheep, children, wives and maidservants, all wanting something from him. Not that he didn’t deserve it!

Be eliminating all the unnecessary elements, and changing body positions, I think I arrived at what was important – the pregnant women, carrying what would become the twelve tribes of Israel, and the very great love Jacob had for his Rachel. How many men would work fourteen years to finally win the woman he truly loved? I think the painting finally begins to reflect the story. His feet resemble tree roots – you figure out why. I think this will remain one of my favorite paintings. “RACHEL MY LOVE” is the title I’ve selected.

Amazing Grace and The Healing Power of Art

There are times when no words can express how we feel. This painting came about on one such occasion. Depressed, frustrated, angry, disappointed, I went out to my studio in a deep blue mood. I had primed a 36″ square canvas, planning to paint a bouquet of beautiful flowers to hang over my mantel. Instead, I painted the entire canvas flat black. “There! That should properly express my mood,” I thought. As I stood there, I began to doodle, literally, with my paint brush and the following figures appeared.

Uncertain who they were or why I had painted them onto my canvas, I continued, almost waiting to see what my hands were going to do next. I honestly had no plan, no idea, except just to keep on working and see what developed. What was that little lizard like creature kneeling at the bottom of the painting?

As I continued, I began to feel a presence. I can’t tell you how, or why, but I began to be aware that I was not alone in my despair. I began to feel the weight of that anger, the grief and the loneliness disappear. I realized that when I began, I must have been reaching and seeking for an answer. As time went on, I became penitent for the anger I had felt. In fact, the first few hours had given me the title “The Penitent.”

As I continued painting, I realized the figure on the left was a worm, a wretch, an outcast. The dancers were really friends and loved ones, praying for me and supporting me. Then I felt the hand of the Forgiver on my head, and I knew that I was no longer drowning in my emotions. I knew that this painting should be entitled “Amazing Grace!”

P.S. It sold before it ever left my easel. Art is indeed, a very great healer!

SPIRIT OF THE EAGLE finally emerges!

Another title for this painting could be THIRTY THREE COATS OF PAINT. Remember “My Name is Mud”? This painting is proof that an abstract painting is, for me at least, much harder than a landscape to paint. Out of respect for your patience, I won’t print the other thirty two photos. Let’s just say that experimental painting, collages with layers and layers of paper, plastic, and modeling paste, finally yielded something I could live with. The colors melded and merged into an image that I like to think resembles an eagle. This painting has taken almost a month, and I have to share with you that at times I thought it would never be finished. Which is another reason for showing up, for keeping on keeping on, even when you don’t know where you’re going!

Last night I saw a one-armed guitarist on television. Yup, this fellow was on the Big Red Show on RFDTV, and he played wonderful music, on a guitar, with only one hand! Kenny Johnson, from West Virginia, lost an arm to polio when he was five. He heard music at church that made him want to learn to play. Nobody would help him, because who can play a guitar with only one hand? Finally, a gentleman in his church took pity on him and taught him some chords. He decided that he was going to make music. He said he’d play with his one hand, and God could play with the other. Check him out – he’s a real inspiration, and the reason I keep preaching: “Show up!” You’ll never know what you can do until you make that leap of faith and try! Kenny’s web site can be found through http://www.shotgunred.com/Kenny%20Johnson%20Web%20page.html

The Foggiest Notion

When I thought about today’s painting, it struck me that painting is very much like driving in a fog. I left home the other day to drive to work. It was a clear day, early in the morning. I knew exactly where I wanted to go and what route I would take. I had allowed plenty of time, so I set out, singing happily along with the radio. I drove about four miles and the fog rolled in, thickly and quickly.

So it goes with a painting. An artist will have very well laid plans, know how to make a finished piece of art, and suddenly be overcome by a thick cloud of brain fog. Just as I experienced last week, even in broad daylight, the cars disappearing in front of me, my vision of a painting can be suddenly lost. I knew I was on the right road, that I would eventually reach my destination, but I had not the foggiest notion how long it would take me to get there!

Sometimes, that’s how it is with our art work. I know that I have the tools I need. I know I am on the right track, I have carefully planned out my steps, given myself time to accomplish the task, but my brain suddenly clogs up with insecurity and doubt – can I possibly portray the images I have in my head? Is there a bright light I can shine on my thoughts so that I can see more clearly what I need to do? If I slow down and stay on course, can I avoid making tremendous mistakes and having to trash my work?

With these thoughts in mind, I sit down to a blank canvas and slowly begin. I don’t know if the fog will lift, giving me clear vision. I only know that, just as I have learned to keep going if I want to reach my destination in my car, I’ll have to show up at my easel, put some paint on that canvas and rework it until I get it right. Or at least until I have something I can live with.

There is a memory of a day I want to capture. I have a photograph of the Northern California coast just as we hit Highway 101. I want to make the fog look real, to give the piece that suggestion of damp, wet, misty low-hanging clouds rolling in. Step by step, here’s how I did it.

1. After sketching in cliffs, rocks, house and tree, I painted sky and sea a very pale pink. I used Titanium White mixed with a bit of Alizaron Crimson. Even a drop was too much, so I overcoated it with white, leaving a few suggested waves in the foreground.

 

2.  Roughed in cliffs and rocks, paying particular attention to lighter value on top the rock in foreground. Let dry

 

3.  Mixed Cad Yellow into Ultramarine Blue, Pthalo Blue and Alizaron Crimson to make dark shadows and painted in houses. Lightened with white to make rooftops. Painted in trees with dark value.

4.  Removed one tree and repainted sky with White mixed with Crimson. Washed thin white over rocks in background to bring fog in.

5.  Added Raw Sienna to warm up foreground – roughed in water, adding smaller rocks.

6.  Added gray shadows in water, painted sea grass in foreground.

7.   Decided sky is too pink, so glazed over all with a light gray, using Titanium White and a bit of all the other colors to gray it down.

I think FOGGY AFTERNOON is finished. Now, I’m going to go looking for a sunny day!

Knocking Fear on its Rear

I believe every artist or wannabe has faced the Demon Fear at some point. If you let it, Fear can keep you from doing any work, showing any work, selling any work. The fear of failure, of looking foolish, of being “not good enough” has stopped most of us in our tracks, sometimes even before picking up a paintbrush. Let me tell you some ways to knock fear out of your path so you can do what you really know you want to do. I will tell you this sermon is aimed right back at me as often as it is to you. I fight this demon every time I go to my studio. But remembering some very good advice has helped me overcome, to some extent, this Bad Boy.

The first advice I received was back when I was a weaver, and my friend wanted me to enter a juried show. I said: “No way am I going to do that!” Her response was, “What have you got to lose? What’s the worst thing that could happen?” I replied that I was afraid I’d be rejected. Her rejoinder? “So, what? If you don’t enter, the rejection rate is 100%!” I always think about that when I step out. When I decide to apply for a residency, enter a juried show, stick my neck out a little more than usual, I repeat that mantra: “What’s the worse thing that can happen?” Then I follow it with this: “What’s the BEST thing that can happen?”

Since I’ve been practicing this, I have gone places I’d only dreamed of seeing. I have done things I would never had thought I could do, and you can do that, too.

Let me give you one more example. A number of years ago, when I was just getting into painting and was REALLY reaching, I applied for a residency in Santa Fe. Imagine my amazement and delight when I was accepted! Two months in a beautiful gallery and studio on Canyon Road, rent free! Talk about fear! I had fever blisters for six weeks because my nerves were so on edge. Could I perform? Could I do work that would make me instantly successful? Would I be rich and famous when I came home? Would you like the truth? I did perform. I worked hard. But I certainly was not wildly successful. In fact, I’m pretty sure the owner of the gallery was disappointed in me. She certainly never showed any of my art in her gallery. In fact, because 9-11 occurred in the middle of my residency, I hardly saw her except when she came to her office to shout at her New York stock broker.

What did happen, though, was I found myself through my work. I painted “Come Home Soon,” my first mood painting and found that I could rid myself of doubt and fear, pain and sorrow, just by showing up at the easel. The painting sold, my first large sale, shortly after I returned to Houston. In fact, it got me a nice commission and made me feel like a “real” artist.

Many times since then, I’ve stuck my neck out, and you know what? You get a clearer view of what’s around the corner from that position.

So I say to you, put a face on that fear – give it a name – whether it’s Dicky Doubt or Harry Hurt, Freddy Fear or whatever you want to call it, face it and slap it down. What’s the worst that can happen? What’s the BEST? Just show up and do it. You may surprise yourself, and the world around you!

More About Showing Up, not Giving up!

Most of us would agree that artists are moody. Even though some of us are better at hiding it than others, the truth is, sometimes we just don’t feel like working. We’re pretty sure that anything we drew, molded, painted, whatever, would just not be worthwhile, in any one’s book. That is the time when I would encourage you to just show up. The one thing that will defeat any artist is giving up. There are days when I am so ashamed of my work that I can’t see a good reason to wet the brush. That’s the time I most need to do something – anything, even if the doubts are overwhelming. I have had paintings that fought me every step of the way, so I understand every one of those feelings. I know, too, that giving up something I love to do is not an option. That’s what happened with the following painting. When I went to Oregon, I had one goal: to find that perfect sunset and paint it. The Creator cooperated – ten days into the trip there was a day of rain and mist, and at sunset, when it cleared, the sunset was unbelievable.

I took a number of photographs, quite sure I could make a gorgeous painting of it. Several weeks and several tries later, I wasn’t so sure. 

I painted over and painted over and finally put the painting away in attic. Fast forward fifteen months later, I brought the painting out and studied it. The blocky, chunky, dull foreground just overwhelmed the beauty of the clouds and the fog rolling in across the sea. Gritting my teeth and loading my brush, I revisited the scene in my mind and spent several days, talking to myself, mixing paint, studying the photos I had taken, and finally after a few colorful words addressed to my painting, I captured the mood I was looking for. The moral here is, move on to something else but don’t give up the original. The passion you felt for that subject is still there and one day if you give it a chance, it’ll show up.