Return to Oil Painting . . . Moments of Summer

Soft Summer Light

8" x 6"

oil on archival board

Chester Marshes

8" x 10"
oil on archival board

Over the summer I had done several small oils on Italian archival board, a lovely surface to work on with a linen-like canvas over MDF board. These were really meant as small oil studies from which to work larger (which I may), but that I like at this size also. They have several layers of oil glazes, each layer adding more detail. On the final layer, I like to scratch back to the layers below to bring out highlights, such as small branches and bracken.

"Twilight Reflections on the River"

8" x 6"

oil on archival board

This one was such a serendipitous moment -- I had been working on a landscape (can't even recall which) when I just became disgusted with the rigidity and dullness of it all. In frustration I grabbed a rag and wiped the board and was ready to toss it on my pile of UFOs (unfinished objects). Luckily I looked down before doing so and sat in wonderment -- all the colors were blending in a soft manner, the rigid marks were gone . . . ummm!

I began to work with the blendings, suggesting reflections in the marshes that often edge a body of water. I didn't want to lose the delicacy, the fragility of the colors. And at the last moment I smudged the sky and "found" the moon! So often when driving home after work, the CT River is amazing in its myriad manifestations of shadows and light, especially when the moon is rising up over the rim of the hills but the colors are not quite faded away into the night.

Oil glazing is an old technique and sometimes it's forgotten in the contemporary environment. Yet when used it can capture such a softness of tone and yet allow the beauty of the surface to emerge.

Must remember to use it more often!

Rusty Art . . . ?

Well, a few weeks ago, Donna at layers asked what images reappeared in one's art or what mark(s) continually called to your artistic eye? I had commented that rust (rust pattern, rivulets of rust, etc.) always seemed to attract me, especially those found on bridge supports and underpasses, which I see many during my daily commute.

Here's a few thumbnails of shots I had taken over these last few months/years and culled into a contact sheet. At this small size, if one didn't know these were photos of rust, it would seem as if they were thumbnails of artworks!

Well, thank you for the prompting, Donna! And I hope to use these as photos from which to work up some pieces, perhaps on 2" gallery boards or maybe on nujabi papers?

What inspires you? What gives you the spark or the challenge to veer off on a detour from the "same old, same old?"

Summer Thoughts

Still playing . . . summer seems to require these do-nothing type of hours . . . read a book, listen to music, putter in the garden, take photos of your feet . . . ain't life grand?

Because somehow I know that after Labor Day weekend, we all swing into the "normal" rush of life, with schools open and holidays approaching too quickly (thanks to retail).

Those hazy, lazy mornings of coffee on the deck, listening to the birds, gazing up at clouds -- all will begin to fade with the oncoming chill of autumn.

I love autumn and early winter, but will miss these quiet moments of summer. So while they are still available to us, let's enjoy and relish them!

Altering Digital Photography

Eden's Roses

digitally altered photograph
by the artist

Back to playing with my photography. Perhaps one could call this "avoidance" of the canvas but I've always been a sucker for a beautiful card along with a quote -- my literary training, I suppose.

It takes quite awhile to work through the many techniques of Paint Shop Pro and oftentimes I'm just too tired to go through the convoluted steps to convert a photograph. But in the morning, when I'm "fresh" and invigorated, it's do-able.

Here's another of my efforts today:

Beauty is Fleeting
digitally altered photograph
by the artist

Not totally satisfied with the end results, but I'll keep at it. As you can see from the links, I've loaded these up to my online gallery at Fine Art America, where my giclee prints and cards are available.

Art and the Contrast of Topographies

Rocky Shores
acrylic & gouache
6" x 8"

Summer Crossroads
gouache
6" x 8"

Here in New England we have the wonderful ability to drive within minutes between landscapes which are so diverse -- the rocky shorelines of Connecticut up through Maine, then to wander back roads past old tobacco fields, cow pastures, mills and working farms. As a child I grew up on Long Island, which is really a glorified sand bar that stretches about 120 miles out to sea starting at the shores of New York City. Flat, flat, flat . . . I love the beaches and the (then) wide open skies but that's about it. My folks were always taking weekend roadtrips up to New England and as soon as we crossed the Throgs Neck bridge, my dad would shout, "Off that g-d sandbar!"

One of my favorite drives is up Route 7 through the Berkshires of Massachusetts right into Vermont -- wonderful! Summer Crossroads reminds me of that drive. And Rocky Shores is not unlike Meigs Point at Hammanassett Beach in Madison, CT.

Well, I'm off to the World Quilt Festival in New Hampshire tomorrow -- another road trip! Hopefully, new vistas await -- I'm packing my pastels in the hopes that I can do some sketching while I'm up there. I keep working at those pastels . . . someday it will click.

Happy weekend --

Summer winding down . . .

Just in one of those "interim" periods when you feel the summer winding down -- maybe a shift in the wind, which is a few degrees cooler than normal. You notice more geese flying their "V" formations above. The roses are beginning their second flush, and maybe you pick up a sweater before sitting on the deck at night.

I've noticed over the past few years that right about now I am ready for autumn. The bright colors of summer have made me yearn a bit for the cooler greys of a typical New England fall day -- although the reds and golds are lovely, too. I like a grey day when the eye is soothed, almost like a sigh after a heavy dinner.

I've been noticing the skies and clouds more -- rather than those clear blue skies that almost sear the eye, we're seeing more scudding cloud formations and deeper coral sunsets. Perhaps a few cloud and sky studies are called for -- ?

Well, enjoy these photos of my garden -- white clematis the size of dinner plates and passion purple hibiscus.

New Art Exhibit Opens!

One of my oil paintings, A Bend in the River, will be in the new art exhibit, Painting the River: An Artistic Journey along the Connecticut River, which open on Friday, August 7th, at the Connecticut River Museum in Essex, CT.

This show is put on by The CT Plein Air Painters Society (of which I am a card-carrying member!) and runs through October 10. If you are in the area, please visit the Museum and the exhibit -- the village of Essex is a lovely spot nestled at the foot of the River before it empties into the Long Island Sound and is full of history, restaurants, shipyards, shops and more!

Helen Frankenthaler
Japanese Maple (woodblock)

Ira Barkoff
Ocean Bright (oil)

Wolf Kahn
Seaweed Fingers (pastel)

What do these 3 artists have in common besides the fact that I admire them? It is the luminous fields of color that they create -- great fluid fields that wash across wood and canvas and paper, intense saturation, so deep one can sink into the surface, perhaps never to emerge again.

The French mathematician and philosopher, Gaston Bachelard, once wrote,

the great function of poetry is to give back to us
the situations of our dreams.

The same can be said of art -- these intimate immensities, these visual states that seem to lead to a sense of the infinite . . .

I think that is the quality of great art. One can but hope to achieve even a degree of that --

Experimenting with Pastels

"Last Shadows on the Dunes"
(pastel on Canson paper, 9x12)

There are times when one must navigate away from the familiar, like an old viking (!?), and explore new territories. For me, pastel is that territory.

It's scary because the marks are immediate. You truly cannot erase pastel -- it just gets smudgy.

It's messy and dusty. Here's a hint: never wear white shorts when working with pastels. I learned that yesterday -- duh.

So pastels are one of those areas I've stayed away from. But I love pastels. Every time I walk through the art store, I linger over those thick chunky sticks of pure color. I subscribe to the magazine Pastel Journal. I visit pastel artists' blogs -- two of my favorites are Casey Klahn and Marla Bagetta.

Then what's the problem? Dunno . . .

Yesterday, after spending hours making necklaces for a festival coming up in October, I took a break and pulled some paper over, opened up my box of pastels (yes, I do buy them) and spent about two hours working on this small painting.

This time I moved at a slower pace; I used fixative between layers, trying to build up those big juicy masses of color I so love.

It's a start. Another thing I like about pastels is that it is a very portable type of art-making.

This painting is worked from an inversion of an oil painting of mine -- Twilight on the Marshes. I had digitally altered it to another range of hues/saturations after converting it to a negative format. This helped me "see" it in a different way and gave me a new path for colors, etc.

Will I keep working with pastels? I'm not sure the viking in me is brave enough. I just have to remember not to wear white . . .