On my walk to Peets Coffee and the bookstore today I saw so many things along the way that I would have liked to sketch. But I was feeling tired and under-caffeinated so I made a mental note to take the same route on the way back to sketch them.
It struck me as ironic to see a sign saying “STOP” beside a tree (above) with leaves that are changing colors and falling. We can’t stop the seasons, time keeps steadily moving on, the days get shorter, and I’m so aware of each passing day being one less to do all the things I want to do.
As I wrote that, I pictured myself with a quiver of arrows that represent my days, and each day I select an arrow and shoot it from my bow…and that gave me an idea for a sketch….
Arrows of Time, ink and gouache
And that made me wonder which is better:
To carefully select the daily arrow (of time) and aim to make sure the day is spent intentionally, doing the things that matter;
or
To be adventurous, pick an arrow at random and shoot without aiming and (as my old yoga teacher used to say when instructing us to take a seemingly impossible pose) “just see what happens” — let each day be its own adventure.
UPDATE: Diane Patmore just left this most wonderful comment:
“Perhaps that sign is telling us to stop and look at the tree?”
That snapped me right out of my melancholic meanderings. Indeed, the only way to slow time is to live in the moment, and enjoy it as it’s happening! Yes! Stop and look at the tree; appreciate its beauty and the color of changing leaves. Accept its reminder that change is inevitable and resisting change causes suffering.
Breathe in the wonderful October air and be grateful to be breathing at this very moment. Ahhh. I feel much better now!
It’s been such a busy week that I haven’t had a moment for my blog until now. When my work week ended Friday afternoon it was time to prepare the studio for my watercolor class that started today. I’ve converted a second room to studio space for the duration of the class and I think everyone fit comfortably.
I feel so privileged to have such a great group of wonderful women artists in the class. And what troopers they were today, so determined to get the hang of doing flat washes, graded washes and glazing. By the end of the class everyone was doing beautiful, abundant, juicy washes.
I’d put out a couple of bowls of fresh fruit for class but nobody was hungry. So now I get to paint (and eat) all those yummy pears, apples and pomegranates.
After all the work on good paper today, I got frustrated by sketchbook paper that quickly muddies and doesn’t allow reworking. But I was so tired tonight it was either a quick sketch or nothing and since there’s been way too much nothing on my blog this week, here, at least, is something, as funky as it may be.
Tomorrow, rested up, I will try again on good paper.
I have a theory about the paths we take in life, and how important it is to notice what I call “Angels Holding Up Signs” along the way. Sometimes those angels take the form of a person offering helpful information or silently pointing the way by example, an intuitive thought, or an unexpected turn of events that makes you pause. When I see or hear an angel holding up a sign, whether it’s “Yield”, “STOP,” or “Go This Way” with an arrow, I consider it a gift and give it serious consideration.
Disclaimer: I’m not a New-Age angels and crystals sort of girl. But I do believe there are angels all around us; good, kind, generous people, like Adam at Kragen Auto Parts today who helped me dispose of gallons of old motor oil and their containers that had been abandoned in my garage (long story; don’t get me started!). Thanks Adam!
…And like the angels who’ve held up signs in my art life lately, including Kathryn Law and Ed Terpening who’ve both helped me to a breakthrough in my understanding about why simplifying is important in oil painting, especially when painting plein air. I’m always attracted to details, and so I’ve fought against that principle, and then fought my paints trying to put those details into my paintings.
Then I saw these paintings (below) by Ed Terpening on his blog, Life Plein Air, made during a workshop in which the instructor, Peggi Kroll-Roberts, challenged the class to break the scene into as few large shapes as possible and paint those shapes with a large, fully loaded brush in one brush stroke.
Each study evoked in me a mood and my mind created a whole life story for each of these women. A mom at the beach trying to keep her kids in line; a sad, matron, wondering where her life had gone; a glamorous, young society lady at the country club watching a tennis game while sipping a martini….
How did so much come from such simple paintings? Leaving out the details left it to my mind to fill them in. This is something I so needed to learn: that simplifying and omitting detail doesn’t make a painting boring—it lets the viewer’s mind play and be creative, making for an exciting, rewarding experience. Thanks, Ed, for holding up that signpost!
Another sign-toting angel came via email this week: a request to purchase this plein air oil painting I made last summer at Lake Temescal. There I was at the crossroads, wondering whether to give up plein air oil painting, and this angel popped up with a sign saying, “You’re on the right path, don’t turn back.”
And now about my process with today’s painting. First I tried to simplify by painting large color shapes with the plan to create a color study for a work to be done in the studio. I also focused on the composition, picking a focal point, being careful not to divide the canvas in half as I have a tendency to do, making the subject (the water) the largest portion.
Here’s how it looked when I’d covered the whole panel:
Lake Temescal Reflections, Phase 1
I’d worked quickly, using a palette knife, going for big shapes of color. I should have stopped there and gone for a walk. But instead I messed around for another hour and muddied up the design and the colors:
Temescal Reflections (muddied), Phase 2
But the great thing about palette knife painting is that it’s easy to scrape off passages and repaint them. So later that evening I put the photo of Phase 1 on my computer monitor side-by-side with a photo of the scene and worked on the painting until I was satisfied with it (as posted at top).
And I’m very happy with another breakthrough: the way I was able to enjoy the plein air painting process without worrying about making a Painting with a capital P while I was out there.
The transition from work week to painting week is often difficult for me. I supposedly work only half a day Fridays but it usually turns into a whole day. So last night, to prod the transition along, I took a nice hot shower, put on my jammies and made a cup of Peets Downy Pearls Jasmine Tea.
The tea leaves come wound up into cute little balls a bit bigger than capers. As it steeps, the tea transitions too, from little balls to long spiky, stringy tea leaves that expand tremendously.
So I put some dry “pearls” in one plate, the ones that I’d brewed for my tea in another and my tea on the table and sketched and painted it, to reboot and ease into my art life. I just wished I’d drawn with pencil instead of pen since my drawing brain wasn’t really warmed up and ready to go.
For Tuesday night sketchcrawl we met at Ranch 99 Market inside the Pacific East Mall, an Asian shopping center. I spent most of my sketching time in the fish department, where shoppers can poke and prod a huge variety of whole fish, select the ones they want and hand them to the fish mongers to scale, wash, and carve them into steaks or deep fry them whole in their gigantic deep fat fryer.
Fishmongers, Ink and watercolor
I didn’t want to get in the way of shoppers (or have my fishy model sold before I could sketch it) so I moved down to the bins of fish heads to sketch. But even in the low rent department my models were being picked over and sold.
Cod Heads, Ink and watercolor
The catfish (below) had long whiskers that reminded me of Salvador Dali.
Salmon and Catfish Heads, ink and watercolor
We also sat on benches inside the mall and sketched diners at some of the restaurants. That made me hungry and it was getting late so I ordered takeout from Great Szechuan and we called it a night and went home. The dish wasn’t great, made worse by being slopped into in a styrofoam clamshell container instead of a traditional Chinese takeout carton and I didn’t even get a fortune cookie!
When I brought home today’s plein air oil painting, I spent a few minutes messing with it, tried to fix it, and then just wiped it all off. Then I painted the scene in watercolor instead (above). I’m getting really frustrated with plein air oil painting and I’m starting to reconceptualize how I might approach plein air painting in the future.
I love being out in nature looking closely at it, and trying to capture it in paint. I also really like hiking in these beautiful parks. But when I paint with oils I focus on painting and then when I leave, I’m often envious of the people who hiked past me as I stood there in one spot.
My new idea is to bring my watercolors, sketchbook and my camera and spend half of the time walking and taking photos and the other half making watercolor sketches. Then I can use those studies, photos and my memory and experience of the place to either make larger watercolors or oil paintings in the studio.
I so admire people who can make beautiful oil paintings plein air. I know that there’s nothing that can compare to seeing color and light and painting it right in the midst of nature’s glory. But maybe it’s time to accept that it’s just not my forte and focus on the things that I both enjoy and can do with some modicum of success.
Wonderful Pomeranian Lady at PetVet, ink and watercolor
A couple miles south of my house, is a high-priced pet shop that sells cashmere sweaters and designer collars for dogs. I don’t shop there. PetVet is a mile or two north of my house, in Richmond. They offer discounted food, medicine and vet services and draw a much less affluent clientele.
I shop there because they sell the prescription cat food Busby needs, but I usually try to avoid going during their weekend low-cost vet clinic. I don’t like seeing pets with people who seem unlikely to be responsible pet owners such as this group of young men and their pit bull puppies with cropped ears (a style from dogs used in fighting.)
Tough Dudes and their Pit Bulls, Ink and watercolor
When I arrived, the parking lot was full and people were waiting inside and outside for the first-come, first-served vet visits. After I stocked up on cat food I was intrigued by all of the interesting characters and dogs and wanted to stay and sketch. But I couldn’t find a way to do it surreptitiously.
I decided to be brave and ask if I could take photos of pe0ple with their dogs; surprisingly everyone was happy to pose. The dudes above dropped their tough guy stance and smiled nicely for me. I’d much rather be drawing from life, but it was still fun sketching from my photos.
Treats while waiting, ink and watercolor
I’d like to work on my dog drawing skills so that I’d have enough confidence to go back there and sketch the waiting dogs and owners directly.
Not a Pit Bull? Ink & watercolor
This young lady was quite a character. As she walked past me, she turned to a guy with a really wide pitbull and said to him “Your dog is FAT!” Then she told me her puppy wasn’t a pit bull, it was a brindle and would be bigger than a pitbull. [Except brindle is a mixture of color in a dog’s coat, not a breed.]
There were so many people there with puppies, and many of those puppies were pit bulls or pit mixes. It breaks my heart to think about how that will turn out. I know how much work it is to responsibly raise a good, healthy dog and that the shelters are full of pit bulls surrendered when the cute little puppy grew up and got to be too much trouble.
I will just try to hope that all of those people and their pets have what they need for happy, healthy lives. Meanwhile, I still have another half dozen pictures to make from the day.
When I’m sketching on BART on my way to work in the morning I’m always so delighted by how different each person’s features are. Yes they all have the same features but so many different nose tips, foreheads, lips. Some days everyone I can see is in profile like above.
BART People 2
Other days I can only see lots of backs of heads and a foot or two.
BART People 3
And then it’s all about the hair style (or lack thereof…hair…or style).
View from Stege Marsh, Richmond Bay Trail, oil 6x8"
This isn’t the painting I made at Sunday’s plein air location in a funky old marina in Crockett, beside the Carquinez Bridge. I was mad at that painting so I did this one to get even. I worked from a photo I took on the Bay Trail near my house to give myself a chance to paint in easier circumstances (no wasps buzzing around my hands, no trains going by every half an hour only 10 feet away, no cars rumbling overhead, no sweaty heat, and light that doesn’t move).
Feeling a little more confident after that, I tried to fix up the painting I’d done under the bridge (where the only shade could be found on that hot day). What made me mad about the painting was primarily that I didn’t come close to meeting the goal I’d set for myself that day: to SIMPLIFY and also that it is just a stupid composition. The view was tricky as everything was in direct afternoon sun except the foreground which was in shade.
Under Carquinez Bridge, Crocket, REVISED, oil 6x8"
I will keep working on the goal of simplifying in my oil paintings, as I’ve had a major breakthrough in my understanding about why it’s important, which I’ll write about in my next post.
For last Tuesday night’s sketchcrawl, we went to Bridges Rock Gym to sketch people climbing on the rock structures and practicing “slack lining” (like tight-rope walking). When I arrived I sketched these sunflowers growing on a little garden plot besides Tin Roof Yoga, attached to the gym. The Assistant Manager, Jeffie, told me that the sunflowers were “volunteers” that sprouted up in the dirt they obtained for the plot by Annie’s Annuals.
Climbers at Bridges Rock Gym, ink and watercolor
Since I was hungry and we were sketching from the cafe on the loft’s balcony I enjoyed a plate of homemade hummos, veges and pita bread, and sketched the salt shaker while I waited for my food. The cafe was offering free samples of their homemade ginger cookies — best I’ve had! Then I tried to draw the moving targets of people climbing rocks (above).
Cathy worked quickly and did a great job capturing so much of the movement and action of the climbers and the balance of the slackline (like a tightrope only springy) walkers. Here are two of Cathy’s sketches:
Rock Gym Climbers by Cathy McAuliffeClimbers and Slackliners by Cathy McAuliffe
If you have a chance to visit the gym, be sure to look at their amazing photobook of the gym’s owner slacklining high atop peaks in Yosemite, from tree to tree in the Berkeley hills, and several floors above a Polish shopping mall. Visiting the gym made me wish I wasn’t scared of heights — it’s such a beautiful place, with great amenities and very friendly staff. Everyone is welcomed and the night we there we saw absolute beginners, a small group of children, and some very advanced climbers with amazing muscles.
When it was time to go, I was just starting to get the hang (no pun intended) of how to approach sketching the climbers, noticing that as they climbed or balanced on the rope, the movements were in patterns that kept repeating so it was just a matter of waiting a couple seconds and they’d be back in that frog-like position, for example. I’ll come back to sketch again and to try out their yoga studio.
Jana Bouc, Artist 