Echeveria

Echeveria
6x6, oil on panel

This is the second of the two mini paintings I recently completed. I keep returning to this subject, and have to admit to having a love/hate relationship with it. I begin with enthusiasm having been drawn by the wild light and shadow, warm and cool thing that these delightful succulents present. I get part way down the path of trying to nail down the curves and turns that I love so much in the frilly edges of the leaves and I begin to grumble. "Wait, which bend in the road am I on? Grrrr, I missed a critical turn!"

In the end I love the twisting road I've traveled, and enjoy looking back on the trip.

Happily back at work

The Crown of Autumn
6x6

As I confided in my last post, I have taken a holiday from the easel, so have not been posting as regularly as I have in the past. My early Fall break was utterly delightful, first spending time on the beach after the crowds had left, swimming in the extraordinarily warm Pacific, reading great books, and enjoying the kind of time with friends and family that my very busy last year did not allowed.  Recently I enjoyed a mind blowing, heart expanding trip to San Miguel de Allende and Guanajuato during the celebration of  Dia de Los Muertos. I wish Americans could assimilate some of the sweet, family oriented traditions of our neighbors to the south. We would be a kinder, happier people.

Now I'm happy to be back at work. I painted 2 6x6 inch pieces for a December show at the Randy Higbee Gallery. I have never painted this small, and I would like to say that it's HARD! It took as long as a larger painting, and after a session of painting my eyes refused to focus on anything beyond my arm's reach. However, I like the intimate scale of the tiny pieces, and may return to 6x6 panels periodically.

I hope you are enjoying Fall as much as I am. I love the low sun and long shadows, the pumpkins, gourds and pomegranates, and the urge to stir slow cooking soups and stews to warm the people you love from the inside.

A big thank you to my friend Suzanne Redfearn, author extraordinaire, for the bag of pomegranates from her backyard. I had a very messy, fun time breaking them apart and arranging and rearranging their pieces until I found a composition that called out to me. I hope it pleases others as well!

Back to work!

I haven't posted in some time, and I'm pleased to be back!  I spent the summer happily exhibiting the paintings you watched develop on this blog at the Laguna Beach Festival of the Arts. They were well received and the entire experience was wide and wonderful. In September I took some R and R, reading thick novels, swimming in the extraordinarily warm Pacific and reacquainting myself with  my sweet family and friends. 

During that time I had an on going conversation online with the Volcan Mountain Foundation and ultimately wrote a proposal and was selected to be their first Artist in Residence. Volcan Mountain rises to the East of the historic town of Julian in beautiful Northern San Diego County and is the top of the watershed that delivers water to northern San Diego and points north. The Foundation bought or helped facilitate the purchase of some 17,000 acres of the mountain, just ahead of the developers. This forward thinking group is hosting scientists and artists to come, do their work there and look at the mountain through their own lens. 

I plan to visit Volcan Mountain several weekends throughout the year to hike and take photographs of the plant life documenting seasonal change. I will then generate a series of paintings that will be exhibited to help develop awareness of the wilderness preserve and the importance of the rich flora and fauna thriving there. I will also post the paintings here as I generate them.

You know that something is meant to be when everything in you sings "yes!" My love of  Southern California, hiking, plant life, painting and the preservation of wild spaces are all satisfied in this new opportunity. The stars aligned, and I couldn't be any happier!

The dramatic gate to the wilderness preserve designed by local artist,  James Hubbell.

 After the hike to the 5350 foot summit we took refuge under gracious old oaks as a rainstorm (!) passed. It was silent, drippy and soul satisfying.

After the storm passed I ventured out with my camera to capture some of the Autumn display of nuts, berries and falling leaves. The trail moved through Riparian and Chaparral ecosystems then into grasslands, high meadows and forests of pine and 5 varieties of oak.

As we descended the sun began to break through and drew my camera lens left and right as it dramatically touched the landscape here and there.

Oil Cans

Oil Cans
8x10 oil on panel

I hope you're fortunate enough to still be close with some of your best friends from childhood. I'm blessed in this way, a number of the kids I grew up with are still a part of my life. Sharing decades of experience is simply delightful, and the depth of understanding is beyond belief.

In the mid 60's the tomboy who ruled the neighborhood on the other side of the school yard and I decided to join forces, and we sealed the deal by climbing down a storm drain, pricking our fingers and pressing them together. My blood sister and I have made each other laugh while riding bikes, boards and horses, while confessing hopes and fears, and while exploring new places, lifestyles and fashion choices. We've celebrated countless birthdays, holidays, highs and lows and have stood by one another's side through thick and thin for over 50 years now.

We spent a weekend together on the central coast of California a couple of years ago and talked endlessly while walking the rocky shoreline and poking through antique (junk?) stores. It shouldn't be a surprise that we both fell in love with the same thing in one store, but you have to admit that it's a little unusual that it was a grouping of beat up old oil cans. Yup, our co-mingled blood called out for the very same odd ball stuff!  The cans went home to her place in Santa Ynez, but I borrowed them so I could have a painting of them!

I began by doing a tone drawing in Burnt Sienna oil paint 

After the paint dried I applied the base color for all the objects and the environment. While working to capture the color I try to remain true to the values that I established in the underpainting.  I let this stage dry and then I analyze my decisions and make note of where I want to make changes or corrections. After seeing to them I go in and fine tune all areas and add the finishing details.

The completed painting is at the top of the post.

Cactus Royalty

Cactus Royalty
18x24 oil on panel

This is a large version of a painting I completed in December. I love the scarlet bulbs arrayed like jewels in a crown atop the cactus. Their satisfying round shapes invite you to reach out for them, and the brilliant colors contrast with the smokey cool greens of the leaves in a way that satisfies me.

This is the second painting that I have repainted on a larger scale. In general I have never felt drawn to cover the same ground, and am eager to describe another subject. However, I was interested in seeing how scale would affect the feel of the image, and I am a fan! It changed from a beautiful little glimpse to a majestic vision. Fun! And I found that having painted the subject before the painting took shape quickly and with great confidence. We knew each other through and through and had worked out the bugs in our relationship months ago!

Below are some of the steps along the way to the completed painting.

Wanderlust

Wanderlust
12x16 oil on panel

When I was growing up the National Geographic came like a bolt out of the blue each month. The photos made clear to me that the world was a very big place that I didn't know the first thing about. The wonder grew when my brother was given a globe for his birthday one year. Although our family was all about maps, seeing the globe gave me, for the first time, a sense of our planet, which implies spinning through space... infinitely more I didn't know about!

My brother and I spent time turning the globe and trying to pronounce the names of all the countries we had never heard of. We were taken by the vast swaths of luminous ocean that had been, for the most part, missing on the maps we had seen.  There was a slight relief to the continents that indicated where vast mountain ranges ran and depressions where camels struggled across punishing deserts. We spent a good amount of time running our hands and eyes over that globe.

Eventually the globe was placed on the top of the book shelf that my brother and I shared. At night I routinely looked up at it as I was going to sleep. Some nights it was a way of avoiding the shadow cast by the bed posts our twin beds that looked  EXACTLY like the boogie man. Other nights I simply looked at the globe and mused on how large the world must be and how tiny mine mine was. I wondered how I would ever get to the Amazon, to see those amazing Indians hunting barefoot in the jungle with blow darts.

Brilliant Disks

Brilliant Disks
18x24 oil on panel

A couple of years ago I painted a small version of this image that I really liked. As my brother took it home, he told me that he really looked forward to seeing me do it in a larger scale. When I was looking for a few images to paint in a large format recently, his words came floating back to me.

 I'm really glad for his advice, this painting leapt off my brush like it had been just itching to be big all along! 

The burnt sienna value drawing/underpainting

The very start of laying in color over the value drawing.  

The first layer of all color completed. Now I let it dry fully before beginning to make all the refinements and adjustments it calls for. 

Several days into the process of defining the way sunlight and shadow weave the gorgeous leaves of this plant together into a dramatic composition.

The final, completed image is at the top of the post.