Greytone study: Old Corner Maple

Old Corner Maple

acrylic on matboard, 6x6 in.

I decided to just do some casual studies for a while when I am working with acrylics. Today I laid out some black and white, mixed up a series of greytones, and did this small, quick study of the old maple at the corner of my property, using a single largish brush. This was done on a piece of matboard, sealed, gessoed, and lightly toned with a glaze of terra rosa to give it a little warmth.

There may be hope yet.

Had a great 4th of July. Friends and family joined me for the parade, and we had a great spot on the island with the Civil War memorial. Brandon has one of Vermont's best (and longest) home-town style parades, very famous-- so many people come from all over every year that the village swells with crowds and every side street is crammed with cars.

The Brandon parade has never been rained on or rained out. It looked for a while that this year might be a first: as people assembled, it started drizzling. But our record held. Just as the parade was announced, the sky began to clear, and by the time the parade reached us, it was bright and sunny.

Afterward, we all headed back to my house for potluck and conversation and at the end of the afternoon, lots of hugs.

Hope your holiday, whichever one you celebrate this time of year, was as rewarding.

Playing around with acrylics

July Sunset
acrylic on matboard, 5x7 in.

This one was from a photo I'd taken of a beautiful volcanic sunset a few evenings ago (one of the few days this summer with an actual sunset instead of a gradual deepening of grey). The first one I tried was a throw-away. Then I did another and this time worked quickly, letting the paint happen. A little progress. At least recognizable.

I don't know why I am struggling so much with acrylics. They just feel so different both from my oils and from what I remember from painting with the acrylics I used as a painting student long long ago (I think I last painted with acrylics when Nixon was President). I was in a state of total frustration, ready to give the things away. I even completely wiped off a canvas (it was a humid day, so most of the paint actually came off).

But, being a Stratton, I am stubborn and hate to give up. I may eventually choose not to work in acrylics, but dang-nab it, I want it to be a choice, not a throwing in of the towel!

I had made a stack of sealed and gessoed matboard pieces to use for plein air (which is what I got the acrylics for, too, so I wouldn't have to carry wet oil panels). Instead I put the matboard pieces on my easel this week, and just began slapping paint on. After a while, I found that I began to get a feel for this paint. No real keepers yet, but I'm feeling more optimistic. After all, I did dozens of these when I began oils. More than that back when I began using pastels. And of course, there's that box of peculiar looking fused glass in my glass shop....

This one that began with me playing with the blobs of paint left on my palette. It was kind of fun, so I put out a little more paint and played until this emerged. I don't know what it is, but it reminds me of desert flowers after a rain, or an estuary bottom full of colorful life. Maybe a pile of my granddaughter's clothes. Just color and shape and fun. After doing this one, I at least felt I'd learned something about how I need to work with this paint.

Playing with Color
acrylic on matboard, 5x7 in.

A try at acrylics...

"Optimism"

acrylic on hardboard panel, 12x9 inches

It has been a very very long time since I've painted with acrylics. I decided to get a few tubes and give it a try, for location work ("au plein air"), to eliminate the hassle of transporting wet paintings along with gear. Whenever I try new materials, I always like to do something fairly representational, because that gives me an idea of how the material behaves, and how I need to modify how I do things to get it to do what I need. It was a startling change from working with oils! Since I was working in studio primarily to get the feel, this is done from a photo I'd taken some years ago on the Oregon coast. (I'll explain the title in a minute.) This is not something I'll frame, but it was fun to do.

Acrylics have changed a lot since I last used them. I am using acrylics from a highly respected maker. Very nice feel, very nice dry appearance. I was working inside on a humid day, so no problem with overly fast drying. I had some false starts and had to work a bit to get the feel of the paint. It simply handles differently from oil, in my memory more so than the acrylics of the 60s and 70s-- at least this brand. Slicker, smoother, less body than oil (though the color is wonderful). Disconcerting at first, I finally decided I like it. I suspect my use of it for strictly painting will be limited to certain situations, though. I still prefer oil. (It's easier to get out of hair and clothes, for one thing...)

One thing about acrylic that does appeal to me: the potential it and its various mediums have for doing multimedia works using various kinds of materials. That will be fun. I'll just need full cover.

Now, why I chose "Optimism" as the title for the painting above: there were actually quite a few people on the beach that day. All of them but one wearing hoodies, jackets, long pants and shoes. That's why I took this particular photo, and why I chose him to include in the painting. Usually when you see surfers along the Pacific NW coast, they are wearing wet suits. For good reason. The water is cold.

Painting on the Porch

Sun and Shade

pastel, 10x8 in

Busy, busy month. Rainy, rainy month. Busy, busy me. Getting paintings framed for show at a new (to me) gallery, putting in applications for other group shows and scoping out more galleries (hoping to place in several), jumping on the rare sunny days to work long hours in my garden to try to catch up (not there yet). Oh, yeah, and painting something every day, even if it is just a watercolor sketch or two in one of my notebooks. Forget housework-- no time.

The show is open and the opening went great. Finally took a breather, and gave up a rare sunny day to go paint and run errands, even though my vegie garden was calling out to be planted.

The Chaffee Art Center (in Rutland, VT) is sponsoring an open "Painting on the Porch" for artists every Wednesday. So I packed up some of my pastels, my small easel, and some paper. There we were, a beautiful day on the portico of an historic old house, surrounded by interesting subjects for doing plein air-- and every one else waas painting from photographs, sitting and chatting, with their backs to the scenery!

I poked around a bit, and set my easel up in a corner of the porch by the side entrance where I had a view of the street trees with a nice strong light and shadow thing going on. An extra benefit was that I was away from the traffic noise (the center is right on the main drag through town).

Though I usually work quickly in pastels, I found it hard to get as much done as I usually would in the time I had. I discovered right away that I had a problem with my materials: the weather has been so damp and humid that I had a problem with the pastel building up too fast, even with the light touch I tend to use. So this is definitely unfinished, and probably not something I'll do anything with.

The other artists were understandably curious about the setup I used and the way I set up the underpainting, and kept creeping back to ask questions. And of course, visitors would stop by to peek over my shoulder. This is normal for this kind of situation, though, and I enjoyed it.

I already have my spot picked out for next time, next to a small garden with a totem sculpture in back. And next time I'll bring my new acrylics to try out. I got them specifically to do off-the-beaten track plein air, because they dry quickly and are easier to carry out. But the Painting on the Porch events will be good practice too, because the short time will force me to work more quickly than I do with oils.

PS: The little ants never came back. Well, they checked the mailbox out, but didn't move in. So apparently the oil of rose geranium worked. But then they discovered my favorite spot in the living room to drink coffee and eat snacks. It was my fault. I let the first one escape. Now I eat my snacks in the kitchen. I don't know why they have never found my kitchen. It would be ant heaven.

Sunset on Mudflats

pastel on archival sanded paper, 9x12 in.

Lately, I've been busy trying to reclaim my neglected garden and ready it for planting, deal with a broken sump pump hose (flooding said garden), and other domestic pursuits. Evenings, I've begun sorting through boxes of old photos in an attempt to organize and label. My love of landscape began long ago, so there are lots of photos of places I spent time at. Some were of a place I used to take my kids to camp, on the Oregon Coast, near Cannon Beach.

Daytime, mudflats at full ebb can look pretty drab. But there are times that bring out the astonishing beauty that mudflats have: days with light mist, sunsets, moonlit evenings. In the summer, the Pacific Northwest coast often has stupefyingly brilliant sunsets. I found several photos I'd taken of one particularly stunning sunset, and began to visualize a pastel painting. Yesterday was too hot to work outside, so I got out my pastels for the first time in nearly a year. I wanted to try to express both the brilliance and the serenity of this place at that particular time. I think I came close.

Esoterica: for the last two weeks, little bitty black ants have been trying to establish a nest in my mailbox (an old-fashioned rural box on a post). Leaving the door open worried them enough that they would scurry to remove all the eggs and larvae, but then the next morning, or the next rainy day, they would be back.

Day before yesterday, after they had finished evacuating, I sprinkled geranium oil inside (it works to deflect skeetos). This morning the box is empty. I don't know if it was the oil, or if it was because yesterday was 90 degrees and the mailbox is a black oven. Hope it is the oil, as it is cooling down, and, frankly, it is guilt inducing to realize I have assumed the role of natural disaster in the ant universe.

This is not something I am likely to paint. Or maybe...

Shoals of Vermont: finished

oil on stretched linen, 20x16 in.

I didn't make any real changes in this one, but I did correct some details, and did another layer of paint along with a bit of glazing and scumbling over the sea to give it some substance. I may go back later along the horizon, but this one is otherwise finished. To see it in its earlier stage, go here (which is actually just two posts down).

I've been working on another painting that is in the middle somewhere. It led me in an unexpected direction (I am getting used to this) and then stranded me. So so it is resting quietly up in the drying room until it gets around to letting me know what it is. Whatever it is, I like it so far.