A Magnificent Plein-Air Day of Watercoloring

Plein Air Watercolor Sketch #1

Plein Air Watercolor Sketch #2

This morning, my painting buddy Chris and I piled our equipment into my Jeep around 8:30 and motored south to Ennis, Texas, to Love Park.  We found a large gathering of plein air painters from the north Texas area that we are fortunate to join from time to time in these excursions.  The day was sun-washed, about 60 degrees, with pleasant winds.  Bluebonnets infested the area, and most of the oil painters were standing completely enveloped in them as they painted their surroundings.

I chose a spot across the road from them, that had more cedars than bluebonnets, and I made two attempts at watercolor sketching these subjects.  Pines and cedars have always flummoxed me in watercolor (and still do).  I spent the entire morning, and early afternoon, staring at one single cedar, half in shadow, with a scattering of bluebonnets beneath.  I admired the view blissfully, and worked very hard, trying to match up the reddish-green tints that clothe the cedar.  I tried Quinachridone, Permanent Rose, Winsor Red and Cadmium Red.  I mixed in some Transparent Yellow, and occasionally Cadmium Yellow.  Nothing seemed to work in the final analysis.  I also studied hard the separation of shadows and mid-tones in the mass of the cedar, and enjoyed all the nuances I saw in those middle tones, the primarily warm colors, and the cools in the shadows.  I worked on those as well.

The bluebonnets–well, this was my second attempt in about four years with those.  I never can seem to make them “pop” out of their environment of green on my paper the way they do on earth.  I don’t have a clue yet what that secret is.  They looked pretty good against the white paper, but disappeared as I floated light, subtle greens around them to give them a “home.”  I guess I’ll have to work on that problem another day.

It was a very pleasant experience, the plein air sketching today.  I met some fabulous new friends that I look forward to seeing again.  We plan to gather at PrairieFest in Fort Worth on April 27 for another day of plein air bliss.

Thanks for reading.

I paint to remember.

I journal because I am alone.

I blog to remind myself I am not alone. 

Painting en Plein Air in my Back Yard

Plein Air Watercolor in the Back Yard

Having returned from a two-day camping trip late last night, I tried to sleep in today (Saturday), but the Texas sun was so bright coming through the bedroom window that I could not.  I took an early phone call, and while stepping out into my back yard and talking on the phone, I looked up through the branches of one of my larger trees, and was astonished at the sight of the stark shadows across the bark, thrown by one tree bough onto another.  I loved the sight of the turning leaves as well, and the crystal clarity of the warm morning sun on the rugged tree bark.  I had to set up the easel and give it a try.

This is a small study (about 8 x 10″) and I was shocked to realize that after 21 minutes, I had done about all I could with it.  So, here it is!  I honestly don’t feel that I am working quickly.  There certainly was no rush today.  But after laying down a wash, drybrushing over it, and then penciling over all of that, I feel that I have done all I can without overworking the watercolor.  I still like the transparency of the medium, and don’t with to turn out “heavy” compositions.

Thanks for reading.

Friday’s Plein Air Attempt at Lake Whitney

Lake Whitney Tree

Happy Holidays!  I have some catching up to do.  I tried to upload my plein air experiments while camping over the holidays, using my BlackBerry.  I followed all prompts and hit “Publish.”  Nothing happened.  I’ve come to expect that from BlackBerry.  So, let’s try this from the lap top.

I was invited to spend Thanksgiving time with beautiful friends and family at some campgrounds in Lake Whitney.  I was picked up Thanksgiving morning, and returned home late Friday night.  The food, companionship and conversations were all truly delicious, and there was so much space for reading, journaling and plein air watercoloring.

I slept in the bed of a pickup truck Thanksgiving night as the temperatures dropped into the low fifties.  It wasn’t a bad experience at all, the blow-up mattress supported me and the down comforter kept me cozy and warm.   The night sounds were soulful, the deer were out everywhere and the moon shining off the lake was affirming and serene.

Cold north winds blew in by morning, and never went away.  I was awakened at 6:57 to a steaming cup of coffee, and used it to the best of my ability to drive away the chill.  Finally, I took up residence inside the tack room of a horse trailer, with the door open so I could see out across the park.  I was reading (trying still to finish) Rollo May’s My Quest for Beauty, but I kept getting distracted at the sight of the morning sun shining off the bark of this tree in front of my open door.  Finally, I thought “Why not?”  I took out my watercolor tablet, Winsor & Newton watercolor field  box and worked on this tree, laying down washes of Winsor Red, Transparent Yellow and Winsor Blue (Green Shade).  I then dyrbrushed over the drying wash with mixtures of Winsor Green and Alizarin Crimson, along with the primary colors previously mentioned.  I kept trying to work in shadows and grooves in the bark.  Finally, I took out an HB pencil and began drawing the bark, occasionally enhancing the texture with Albrecht Durer watercolor pencils (Warm Grey VI and Dark Sepia).  This is the result of the sketch.  I absolutely loved working on it, and would have gone further, but the sun retreated behind the clouds and did not come out the rest of the day.  So, it was back to Rollo May and writing in my journal.  I brought along my copy of Thoreau’s Walden and re-read the final chapter of it.  The day was splendid beyond description.

Thanks for reading.

Pouring, Masking and Drybrushing Trees in Watercolor

Stockyard Background Foliage

Today has been given mostly to studying the tree cover behind the Fort Worth Stockyards and trying to find ways of matching my pouring, masking and drybrushing efforts to the colors and textures there.  This has meant hours of masking, pouring, removing the masking and re-masking new areas, drybrushing, salting and occasionally sandpapering.  I seem to spend more time staring at the photographs and painting than actually painting.

During break periods, I have been reading and reflecting with great satisfaction over the Collected Writings of Robert Motherwell.  I love this man’s intellect, his aesthetic and his way of analyzing trends in art history.  I have also enjoyed reading from this huge coffee table volume: Andy Warhol “Giant” Size.  I just finished reading the first two chapters, and am fascinated with his overall life, his taking the New York advertising scene over by force, and especially his idea of opening the Factory.

Thanks for reading.

Quick Plein Air Sketch of a Conifer Tree

Damaged Conifer Tree

I took a quick moment while temperatures were mild, to step outside and scout for a single tree to paint.  I chose this conifer tree, because I still haven’t solved the problems of needles vs. leaves when I’m “faking it” en plein air.  I loved the damaged bark in the upper ranges of this tree, recording storms from the past, and etching character across the face of this portrait.  I’m starting to get the hang of tree bark, both in texture and color, and have found a satisfying way of blending graphite with watercolor as I render the textures of the bark.  As to the pine needles, I’ll still have to find a way.  It hasn’t happened yet.

I would have loved to talk to the landowner of this single tree on his property, but have serious questions over whether or not he has even noticed it among the hundreds that cover the acreage.  I recently came across this non-judgmental sentiment recorded by Henry David Thoreau in the nineteenth century when he penned his book A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers:

(he was speaking of the men of Concord who worked their lands):   . . . greater men than Homer, or Chaucer, or Shakespeare, only they never got time to say so; they never took to the way of writing.  Look at their fields, and imagine what they might write, if ever they should put pen to paper.  Or what have they not written on the face of the earth already, clearing, and burning, and scratching, and harrowing, and ploughing, and subsoiling, in and in, and out and out, and over and over, again and again, erasing what they had already written for want of parchment.

Farmers and property owners scratch the surfaces of their land, I only scratch the surfaces of paper (and as a teacher, occasionally the surface of someone’s mind, perhaps).  Throughout my life, I have made little contribution to real estate, but have tried from time to time to reproduce its wonders on paper, as I try again this day.  And in that endeavor, I do find great satisfaction.

Thanks for reading.

 

A Second Attempt, Painting the Azaleas en Plein Air

Azaleas at Dallas Arboretum, 2nd attempt

After taking my time to focus on my subject en plein air for 90 minutes, I then shifted gears and kicked out this one in 30 minutes.  I just wanted to see if I could capture a nice watercolor sketch in a short span of time, having already worked through it once slowly and methodically.  I cannot say I enjoyed the second attempt more than the first, but I am pleased with how this one came out.  For years I have wrestled with green colors in nature, never satisfied with my own mixture of them when trying to render foliage.  I’m more satisfied with this pair of paintings I did today.  Maybe I’ll change my mind tomorrow, but currently I’m quite happy with these, and looking forward to the next plein air experiment.

Thanks for reading.

The Pulse of a New Year

Fiddler's Dream

Lift up your faces, you have a piercing need
For this bright morning dawning for you.

History, despite its wrenching pain,
Cannot be unlived, and if faced
With courage, need not be lived again.

Lift up your eyes upon
The day breaking for you.

Give birth again
To the dream.

(Maya Angelou, “On the Pulse of the Morning” January 20, 1993, read at the inauguration of William Jefferson Clinton.)

With the dawning of 2012, I have so much on my heart to share with my faithful blog readers.  I open with these soulful words from Maya Angelou, because I always feel the dual heaviness and lightness of Being when an old year dies and a new one emerges.  I cannot seem to shake the anxieties that have a way of creeping out of the shadows during the holiday season, and this one has been no different.  And I cannot help but turn pensive when January arrives.  “January” comes from the Roman god Janus, the two-faced image looking simultaneously backward and forward.  The dual head served as a fitting visual symbol of that human habit of looking over the shoulder at the past while trying to navigate the unfamiliar future.

New Year resolutions are always an obsession with me.  I have faithfully kept a journal since the late 1980′s, and sometimes I go back and re-read resolutions I have recorded in previous Januarys.  I am not going to bore my blog readers with my personal list of resolutions–I only wish to state that currently my prioritized list includes watercoloring better and blogging better.

I still intend to watercolor daily, though it will not mean completing a painting a day.  And so today I post this watercolor sketch, actually created yesterday morning, New Years Eve.  It is not yet noon today and I haven’t “awakened” sufficiently to get out the watercolors for today’s fresh start.

I have just returned from the Fiddler’s Dream Music & Dance Camp hosted by the North Texas Traditional Dance Society.  The camp was held in Oklahoma, and I had the experience of meeting a number of fascinating, talented people in the fine arts.  A highlight of the camp for me was the opportunity to lead a watercolor plein air workshop.  We pulled a work table out under the trees, and I enjoyed showing some eager painters a few things I knew about rendering winter trees in dry brush.  The image posted above is the sketch I did about an hour before the painters arrived.  It was around 10:00 in the morning, and I spent approximately 40 minutes on this sketch.  As I worked at it, I felt my breathing change and my pulse change, as always happens when I settle into a plein air activity.  The air became fresher, the slanting sunlight clearer, stirring winter breezes caressed the pores of my skin, and for a moment, the world became perfect again.  I felt as though the trees were letting out a deep sigh, exhaling the past and inhaling the present.  That is the pulse of a New Year.

While I looked into the Oklahoma forest, selecting a pair of trees to render in drybrush, my conscience was flooded with ideas from Xie He’s six canons of painting, formulated around the 6th century, and images of Andrew Wyeth’s renderings of winter trees in Chadds Ford, Pennsylvania.  I felt a gladness settling in as I worked in the comfort of this environment, and immediately decided that I would not let this winter pass without turning some significant corners in rendering the naked trees of winter in all their nuanced contours, neutral colors and arrangements.  I have always felt this was something lacking from my previous body of work, and now resolve to look more closely at these natural phenomena and work daily at recording them on paper.

As for the rest of this day.  I have plenty of quiet around me, and space to pursue some quality reading, reflection, journaling, and of course, watercolor study.  Maybe I’ll get back to you before I retire for the night, but if I don’t, I promise to return tomorrow.

To all my readers, again thanks from the bottom of my heart that you care enough to look at what I paint and write.  I appreciate you more than you know, and I harbor your supportive comments in the depths of a grateful heart.  I was thrilled last night when WordPress sent me the word, shortly before midnight, that my blog was viewed about 31,000 times in 2011–enough to sell out the Sidney Opera House for 11 performances.  That news came at a good time.  Thanks all of you for reading.  I wish all of you a splendid New Year in 2012, and hope you find what you are seeking.

Recapping my Watercolor Adventures in Galveston, Texas

Tree Rendering in Prismacolor Watercolor Pencils

I decided to take a break from grading papers so I could re-live some of the past four days spent in Galveston, Texas.  It was my privilege to demonstrate Prismacolor watercolor pencils in the vendor booth for Prismacolor, thanks to Shelley Minnis, a representative from that company.  I have posted the first sketch I did while visiting with art teachers from around the state.

This is the first time I pushed heavily on the Prismacolor products.  My own watercolor style is a considerably lighter touch, but I wanted to see how the D’Arches paper handled a heavy application of these pencils and a good amount of wash.  I’m not delighted with the outcome, but still want to continue experimenting with this media.  This is one of the few sketches I have done exclusively with the watercolor pencils, with no help from tubes or cakes at all.  I have not found a way to dissolve the pigments completely in water to create sky washes.  I’m not sure what I’m doing wrong, but I will figure it out.  At any rate, I enjoyed the experiment and would not have traded this experience for anything.

Thanks, Shelley!  It was a real honor working beside you.

And thanks, all of you, for reading.  More to come .  .  .

Autumn Trees in the Western Sun

Autumn Trees in the Western Sun

Texas weather was again delicious for plein air experimentation.  After school let out, I immediately went out in search of autumn colors, and it didn’t take long to find them.  This time I layered Winsor & Newton watercolors with Prismacolor Watercolor Pencils, going back and forth between the media.  I found a happier balance this time, and believe I have come up with one of my better watercolor sketches of fall foliage.  It’s rather small (about 9 x 12″), but I think it will have  a smart appearance once matted and framed.

In looking at this pair of trees, I was surprised to find the one with the dead leaves still sporting its full headdress, while the tree of living leaves had already lost about half of them.  I found that strange, and wanted to try and sketch the pair accurately.  Fall is coming on.  Because of the dreadfully hot and dry summer, I’m afraid that Texas will see little-to-no color this season.  Nevertheless, I still like the looks of the trees as they begin casting their leaves, even if the colors range only from green-to-brown. All the same, I’ll try to capture some of them in watercolor sketches en plein air this time around.

Thanks for reading.

Rendering Trees in Prismacolor Watercolor Pencils

This afternoon, I attempted to render a pair of trees exclusively in Prismacolor Watercolor Pencils.  So far, I have only had success in balancing them with watercolors and brush.  I’m still finding it a challenge, trying to neutralize the intense colors.  My style tries to match landscape colors with what I find in nature, and these are still coming out entirely too bright.  Perhaps my palette is too limited.  I’m working with a set of 24 pencils, and haven’t taken the opportunity to refine my palette by ordering individual colors.

Thanks for reading.