Tujunga sunset
No more than 15 minutes from our home, there’s a canyon that opens out into a wide wash. Part of it has been reclaimed as a beautiful golf course, but other parts of it remain as wild as ever, strewn with boulders and sprouted with sagebrush. We were driving near there yesterday, just at sunset and I was captivated by the colors. Only a trace of water remained after the spring rains – and those tiny puddles caught the light of the sun. Even in the most ordinary urban and suburban areas, there is extraordinary beauty if we look in the right direction at just the right moment.
5.5″ x 7.5″ pastel on paper. This is a study for a larger watercolor, oil painting, or both. (But not at the same time.)
Blues in the Woods
Today we drove up into the Angeles Crest National Forest to hear some music at Newcomb’s Ranch Inn … the only restaurant/road house in the vast national forest. Specifically, we drove the 45 minutes or so from our home to hear bluesman Barry “Big B” Brenner. We met Barry several years ago when he played at a restaurant in our town, and since that time we’ve enjoyed his music at sites all over Los Angeles – from a barbecue joint in Monrovia to a cajun restaurant in Toluca Lake to an outdoor concert at a golf course. His rare appearances at Newcomb’s Ranch Inn are worth the drive. Barry has said on numerous occasions that his mission is to introduce people to traditional blues and the blues legends that are the foundation of so much treasured American music. With his 6 string, 12 string and National Resonator guitars, he serves up a rich mixture of delta slides, Piedmont rags and Texas stomps – including numerous original songs. My favorite songs in Barry’s repertoire include “Deep River Blues,” “San Francisco Bay Blues,” and “Step it up and Go,” – but everything he sings is excellent. If you like blues, visit his site at the link above and give a listen … And if you’re in LA, get on his mailing list to find out where he’s appearing.
Barry was taking a set break when we arrived, but when he returned to play, I pulled out my sketchbook and did a painting of some of the pines and chapparal that grow on a hill behind the inn. This time, I didn’t make any attempt at composition, I just painted it like it was … a brilliant cerulean sky with fair weather cumulus, constantly changing light, pine trees clinging to a bare granite cliff, thickets of manzanita and mesquite and clouds of blooming ceanothus. More paintings of spring in our local wilderness will be posted this week.
Blues, sunshine, fresh air, a new watermedia sketchbook recommended by Roz Stendahl, my waterbrush and paints … and my dear husband to take me there and enjoy it with me. I can’t imagine a better start to a 3-day weekend.
Edited to add: I thought you might be interested in seeing what the scene actually looked like. This was a snapshot I took of that hillside. You can barely see the corner of the roof of the building in the foreground. The trees were about 30 yards or so away.
What I found interesting was my perception (above) that I just painted it like it was. I see now that I must have been improvising quite a bit, but I wasn’t really aware that I was.
A Young Lady
As I continue to work with watercolor in my year-long commitment to paint, I occasionally challenge myself to try a portrait, which is considerably more nerve-wracking than drawing plants or even some animals. A branch or twig can be in the wrong place and no one would notice. Put the nose in the wrong place and you might as well start over. Some day soon I’ll try a watercolor portrait from life, after I’ve practiced a bit with photos. This young lady’s photo was offered up for experimentation on wet canvas, and I enjoyed the time I spent with her.
I didn’t take the time to paint the background this time, as my objective was really to experiment with flesh tones and to try to get somewhat of a likeness.
Approaching Storm
Much of the time I’m unsatisfied with the outcome of what I’m drawing or painting. I’m rarely unsatisfied with the process of practice and learning, just unsatisfied with the result. I think this is natural for a student of any age, and I consider myself a student.
However, every now and then I paint or draw something which I think shows progress in my study, and this digital study is one of those times. It’s subject is a bird, but thematically it’s about much more. As a minstrel poet of our times once wrote: “You don’t have to be a weatherman to know which way the wind blows.”
Art details: The crow and stump were painted freehand in Photoshop, using a photo as a reference. It is not a paint-over or a photo manipulation, nor do I trace. I start with a rough sketch, black on white, just like with a ‘real’ pencil or brush, and build up the layers with semi-transparent brushstrokes, bit by bit. The Photoshop file was opened in Corel Painter, where the background was painted on other layers using customized brushes. The whole thing was brought back into Photoshop for final color correction, watermark and jpegging. I am working on a non-digital version of this also which may be available for sale. For this digital study I used a small Wacom tablet that’s about 5 years old, nothing fancy.
George
I got a late start but decided I would take part in Wet Canvas’ All Media Event. It’s a pretty interesting activity. Reference photos are posted over the weekend and you have a half an hour to select one and two hours to finish your piece (unless you don’t, and then you can post it as a work in progress.) This took me more than an hour, but less than an hour and a half, somewhere in there. I was working quickly – it’s little more than a sketch, really, but it was fun to do. You can execute your piece of work in any medium you want. I need practice in painting people so I picked this one and changed the background and attitude of the head to suit myself.
Illo Friday – Robot
Robots don’t work all the time, you know. Sometimes they go for walks in the woods with their kids. And pick berries and stuff. So, if you’re camping and you see glowing red eyes in the bushes … just remember, it might not be bobcats …
Yellow flag
A recent entry in my ‘purely botanical’ sketchbook. This yellow flag iris is quite commonly planted around bogs or ponds. This one grows at Descanso gardens near a pond with a weeping willow. This iris, native to Asia and Europe, became known as the French fleur-de-lis, and the word “flag” may refer to a non-English word meaning rush or reed.
In some US states, pseudarcorus is considered a noxious weed because it grows by both underground tubers and reeds and can be invasive. We have a small patch of them in our yard and they have been very well contained in dry years. In very wet seasons they do spread a little bit.
Watercolor in a coptic bound Paperblanks journal with creamy paper
Three Sisters at the pool
Descanso Gardens changes by the season, the day, sometimes by the minute. Especially when the morning sun is weaving and dodging through the dense canopy of oak trees. Yesterday I was so captivated by the morning light that I spent the first hour there shooting photos for reference. In the Japanese garden, one of my favorite areas, the light was changing so rapidly that even ten minutes might highlight a plant that had been in deep shade before. Not even enough time for a wash to dry before it utterly changed. When the light is steady – either full sun or full shade – this is not so much of a problem unless there are moving clouds. Take a look at a time lapse movie and the challenge of changing light will become readily apparent.
I tried cropping this differently, and I think I like it better.
Watercolor in a Canson Montval 7 x 10 watercolor field book
Spotted Nubian – Illo Friday
Click to enlarge
I got busy this week and missed the chance to do something for Illustration Friday. So here’s something done earlier this year that wasn’t used for any previous project …
If you’re a regular reader, you know that I very seldom do any graphite drawing. I don’t have any negative feelings about it. In fact, I love the beautiful halftones that some of my artist friends like Detlef and Felicity so skillfully achieve. For some reason, perhaps negative experiences drawing with a pencil when I was a child, I just don’t gravitate to it. So today, as part of my ongoing animal series I decided to do something radical and to draw this spotted Nubian goat in graphite instead of ink or paint. The paper was not particuarly smooth or fine, much to my regret. I used 2B, 6B and 8B pencils, a kneaded eraser and a tortillon here and there.
(Edited to add: The paper size was 8 1/2 x 11 – for some idea of scale. K.)
In reality the goat is colored burnt sienna, deep burnt umber, black and white. Maybe I’ll try her in watercolor next. After I finish cleaning my refrigerator, that is.
Arroyo Twilight
I think I tend to be a little too conservative with color. It’s a rut I’m trying to get out of by occasionally getting experimental and pushing the colors far beyond realism. So, today my husband and I went out for a little “golden hour” painting time – the last 25 minutes of the day before the sun went behind the nearby Verdugo Hills. There wasn’t time to fiddle and fuss about being neat or getting the shapes and values right – the light was changing rapidly by the minute. I had a very good time splashing around while he read to me about Calder from today’s LA Times.
This watercolor sketch is another view of the same arroyo I painted last week – an area that is either dustbowl dry or full of water depending upon the season. Right now there are cattails in a marshy area – redwinged blackbirds everywhere and ponds full of poliwogs. It’s my idea of a great painting location.
If you draw or paint, in what areas are you ‘pushing yourself’ to be more experimental, regardless of the outcome? Are you taking chances? How does it feel when you do?
