What's on the Horizon?

It's been awhile since I've posted anything. My bad, but summer is a tough time. Life just seems to gravitate to the outdoors, and I'm reluctant to come inside and sit in front of my computer and scanner and post images, thoughts, etc. 

But as the light begins to shift and autumn starts to roll in, to come inside -- especially on a day when it's drizzly and damp -- is not such a chore, is it? So as I started to sort and re-organize my space for the 'indoor season' I found some works from last winter, still resting on the easels, waiting patiently for me to notice them. 

Your works do become a kind of family, images filled with memories of contentment or frustration, eagerness, curiosity and yes, sometimes anger. However, I have good memories of these two -- both started out as something else; both were re-worked over other 'failures' with oil, cold wax (Dorlands) and bits of pastel (Sennelier).

Horizon1 (detail) (oil, wax, pastel; 10"x24")

There's something about the horizon line and bodies of water that intrigue me, whether I'm on the Cape or traveling through the farmlands of New England. These past weeks I pass field upon field of corn mowed down and bundled into rolled stacks, not unlike Monet's "Haystacks." 

As the late afternoon sunlight moves across the land, it is breathtaking. You want to slam on the brakes and capture the shadows and light, the dimming colors of hay and pine against cloud-laden skies.
 

Horizon2 (detail) (oil, wax, pastel; 10"x24")

These are partial scans of the larger work, too big to scan as a whole.  Each measures 10" x 24" and is painted on a birch panel, which I love more and more as I work on them.  They take a good deal of abuse, as I tend to use brayers rather than brushes, continually applying bits of paper toweling to remove paint, then add another layer, remove, add. During this process I also use the edge of the brayers to create marks that then reveal the layers below, a kind of construction/deconstruction process, and the panels hold up well.

I hope to continue this "Horizon" series on panels of varying sizes. I've always wanted to do a triptych or diptych, and I think the birch panels would work as you could clamp or screw the panels together.  One more note on this process:  depending on what brand toweling you use (or napkins), the brayer will often pick up the pattern ever so slightly, which makes for another layer of texture -- pretty cool!

We are enveloped and drenched in the marvelous, but we do not see. 

Baudelaire

Reflected Light

Evening Reflections

24 x 36

oil & wax on birch panel
Available at Left Bank Gallery

I haven't posted many pics of my recent work, which are now at the Gallery. Sometimes in the heat of the moment -- trying to get them packed and delivered -- I forget to take any photographs. On this last go-around, I did try but the camera was not cooperating, probably needed new batteries, and my patience was wearing thin, so I apologize for the fuzziness. And because I'm working on a larger scale now, obviously it's not possible to scan. But what I'm excited about with these paintings are the new techniques and surfaces I worked with.

Detail of Evening Reflections

These two paintings are oil and wax on birch panels. I was having trouble with the panels even though I had primed them several times. The primer seemed to sink into the wood, and I could not get a good surface on which to work. Then I added several layers of acrylic glazing, and that seemed better. I had begun these paintings with acrylics but after several days again I had that sense of flatness, of things sinking and losing their freshness. 

Reverie du Soleil

oil and wax on birch panel

24 x 36
Available at Left Bank Gallery

So I put them aside and a week later came back to them armed with oil paints and cold wax. Aha, now I was getting somewhere! And the more I worked the surface, the more the vestiges of the underlayers came through, giving a rich, textured surface.

Sometimes it takes awhile to become familiar with new materials and how they react. And by now my approach was kill it or cure it, probably not the best attitude to have when painting.  But it had become a battle and my learning curve was improving.

The other interesting thing in this whole process is that these paintings began as abstracts, similar to the one below.  But when I moved over to the oil/wax combination and began finding those hidden layers of sparks, glints of light -- they shifted to landscapes, more impressionistic in their celebration of light and reflected light.

Summer Haiku

16" x 16"

acrylic on canvas
Available at Left Bank Gallery

This was a smaller piece on canvas working very loosely with acrylics -- I think we were in the midst of our last big snow storm when I did this one. Can you tell? But I enjoyed the looseness, the quickness of this painting.  Everything seemed to flow and dance without much help from me!  Again, the medium and the materials seemed to steer me one way or the other.

And now it's April and the weather is warming up and the garden needs some TLC big-time. So, I think the brushes will be put aside for rakes and trowels -- at least for the next few weeks. Happy spring everyone, and be back soon!