Painting 'Plein Aire'

Vacations for me have included time to paint plein aire whether I am in San Antonio, northern New Mexico or on the Monterey Peninsula.  Painting plein aire literally means of or relating to painting in outdoor daylight.  

I frequently complete a quick watercolor sketch on location that appeals to me for whatever reason.  These small works take about 30 minutes to paint and are simple starting points.  Some examples of this method are depicted here.

Junipera Serra at Carmel Mission

Waller Creek Falls at UT


Las Parras de Abiquiu

If you examine these paintings, you will notice there is limited glazing.  The brushstrokes are rendered with a sable flat brush, maximizing control and the white of the paper.  They are simple, yet often complex in the forms they depict.

Generally speaking, there is nothing more exciting to me than chasing the fog on the California coast, painting fast to capture the light, or perched on a downed tree in the cold November wind of a blue norther.  I am a very stubborn person.   When it comes to having time for my art, I am going to paint on the day set aside for such, no matter what.  As a consequence, I have experience with frozen watercolor paint, and on a different trip, had the wind pick up my palette and bathe me and my wool poncho in burnt sienna paint!  It is funny to me now, but not at all at the time....such are the hazards of defying freezing temps.   On the other hand, I have had to deal with a major cricket swarm when I was committed to paint in the summer heat of 100 degrees+ outside Burnet, TX.  I must say, I would rather take on the cold wind, any time!

Cottonwoods on the Chalma

I consider this painting my 'battle stripes' for facing the hazards of working outdoors in less than 20 degree weather (this is when I took the burnt sienna bath...!).

Painting on location is a challenge for many reasons. Number one is the continuously changing light.  Thanks to artist Tony van Haslett, whose workshop I attended in 1996, I learned the value of creating a black and white shadow sketch on site before beginning the actual painting.  I have also learned to document the vista by making reference photographs from various angles, as well as close-up views.  This is for the possibility of finishing the work in the wind- and pest-free environment of my studio.

The Lighthouse at Los Pinos, Pacific Grove

The lighthouse was in deep shadow in early afternoon due to the windswept cypresses.  I made a quick shadow sketch before beginning this work to record the effect of the fading light.  I really liked the drama and the energy in the treebranches.  For me, it was all about the trees!

The Queen of Missions, San Antonio

This is one painting that was a struggle in chasing the light and shadow, on an overcast January day.  I didn't make a shadow sketch in this case...and I wrestled with it for hours as a result.  To top it off, I was asked to leave by the park ranger, as they were closing for the day.  Nothing like being unceremoniously thrown out...and being frustrated, to boot...!

Big Red Rock at Abiquiu


Ghost Ranch Butte

Galisteo Inn

These three paintings, I feel, are some of the best work I've produced in the field.  I love the red earth with the changing robin's egg blue sky, and the play of the shadows.  When painting plein aire, decisions have to be made quickly due to the fading light, which is determinedly marching towards sundown.  I really consider working in this manner to be the ultimate mental exercise in creative problem-solving.  It's challenging...but when it works, it's so satisfying...!

Two collages – a study in contrasts

The dictionary defines collage in this way:  A technique of composing a work of art by pasting on a single surface various materials not normally associated with one another, as newspaper clippings, parts of photographs, theatre tickets, fragments of an envelope, etc.

November through May was always my favorite time growing up in Groves, Jefferson County, Texas.  The humidity was lower at this time of year, and the living seemed easy.  This past fall, I spent some time reminiscing on the simpler time of my childhood that seems to have slipped irrevocably into the past.  A a part of this mental exercise, I realized that my feelings were a mixture of emotions.  I had a wonderful childhood that was mostly unfettered and carefree.  Life in that fine old house and hours spent under the pecan trees are sweet memories that I cherish.  I made a list of things I liked – elements that have a significant bearing on who I am today.  To name a few: the egrets fishing in the bayou, a 6-pack of new Crayolas, hummingbird moths, my daddy's four-o'clocks, my blue Schwinn bicycle, and more.

I had begun a 16 X 20 painting on stretched canvas from an old photograph, as part of my Li'l Donna series that I'd never finished.  I saw this as an opportunity to give this work life.  I found photographs and ephemera to depict various elements that I wanted to include, and set out too assemble them in a satisfactory arrangement.  Thus, Jefferson County Girl became a reality...

Jefferson County Girl

There's a strong element of realism in this work that only happens when one uses photographs and objects that have vivid contextual connotations associated with the memories that are the inspiration.  The piece becomes literal – although the interpretation is in the eye of the beholder, it is transformed into something more specific.

In contrast to this, I often work on a smaller scale using color, form and texture in an abstract manner to create an imaginary environment that is spatial and left to the viewer to interpret and / or visually explore.  This spring I was thinking about the cycle of the seasons, and created this piece to celebrate the idea and spirit of solstice.  This collage is 5 X 7, created on an ampersand board using printed papers, handmade papers, and acrylic paint.  Let the image speak to you and let your imagination interpret the depicted space...

Solstice

El corazón…

At the heart of the matter is the fact that I like hearts!  This thought is centered on the realization that I really love the shape, the connotation it evokes and the mysticism that surrounds its use in poetry, music, fiction, the visual arts and more.  I loved all it implies so much that I used it as a part of my studio's name!

When I began this series some years back it was with a montage of watermedia, oil pastel and handmade papers called How do You Know a Real Sweet Heart.  In this work I explored various colored hearts, working through the psychology associated with certain hues and their subliminal communication. 

How do You Know a Real Sweet Heart?

Lately I’ve created several small acrylic works on paper that express different moods while playing with the idea of a heart shape symbolizing love or one's innermost feelings.

Hearts in Sync

Compatability

In my Heart of Hearts...


My Secret Love


Love and Hate

The last piece is a large work called The Heart of the Matter.  Many situations in life have a dark side that seems impossible to illuminate.  The harder we try to find the answer, the more elusive it seems.  Yet, when the issue is finally worked through and we arrive at its core, we often find light, relief and warm feelings with solving the issue.  This painting was executed by use of a brayer, rolling thin sheets of paint, layered to show the situation's complexity and at its core is the heart shape, relating illuminated resolution.  Many people of my generation were never asked what they thought about anything emotional, and as a result they often find it difficult to attune themselves to their true feelings.

The Heart of the Matter

These paintings are a visual representation of the journey we all need to make in order to find a path that will bring us to a personal truth and a sense of peace and well-being.

Irish Country Road

Let's talk about roads...

There are many that we've come across in our lifetimes...the Yellow Brick Road from The Wizard of Oz;  Abbey Road in London, site of the recording studio most widely known for its association with the Beatles;  the road to nowhere, which I'm sure we all feel we're walking from time to time;  the (hopefully) always comforting road home...and many more.  The road I long to travel is one that will lead me to and around the western part of Ireland.  The Irish have long spoken of 'going to the west' as a metaphor for finding their peace and harmony, either as part of this life or as its inevitable end.  This painting is my idea of that road home.

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Irish Country Road

Other paintings in my Irish series may be found elsewhere on this blog by clicking here.