A Peak at The Peaks

A fellow artist

once told me that paintings of the Peaks of Otter will always sell.  I can't think how many times I've tried to paint this landmark, so iconic of Central Virginia, and failed. 

The painting above, on a half-sheet of 140lb cold-press paper,

is my first attempt.  Now, I am not totally to blame for the wonkiness shown here.  I was in a class and the exercise was "Painting a Vibrant Sunset."  When the instructor told us to sketch a mountain range, I decided to sketch, from memory, an outline of our beautiful Peaks of Otter.  What I forgot to include is the rest of the mountain range to the right of Flat Top, The range to the left of Sharp Top is obscured by the trees, but the right side just wanders off to nowhere.  I painted the mountains in with a deep blue, a mixture of Maimeri blu Green-Blue and Violet  to get the dark line of the ridge. As per instructions, I allowed this to dry and then proceeded to paint the sky. 

Beginning with the same dark mixture of blue at the top, blending with magenta mid-way to the horizon, and finishing with yellow at the bottom, the vibrant sunset came into view.  I was elated!  But, remembering the sunset on the Peaks I had often viewed from home, I knew the sun  stretched itself  between those glorious piles of stone, like a cat draping over the arm of a chair, spilling across the valley, caressing the pasture at the foot of the mountains, before slowly retracting into the distance and disappearing behind the next hill.

I had my vision.

I didn't think I had the skills. 

I was so pleased with my rendition of "my mountains" however, that I became intimidated and was afraid I would mess up what I had done by trying to turn it into my vision of the "cat-sun" retreating into the distance..  I went to the instructor for help.  I told him I had the yellow where I wanted it, but was in fear of losing my mountain ridge, whereupon, he picked up a brush and redrew the top line of the horizon!  My Peaks! They were gone!  In their place were two matching cones.  I had worked so hard to get the shapes right, the sharp tip of Sharp Top, the soft undulations of Flat Top! Gone with the stroke of a master's brush! This artist, whose work I had admired for so long, had obviously never seen the Peaks of Otter.  Being so new to watercolor, I had no idea how to fix it.  With several years of painting under my belt, I'm still not sure I can fix it. 

Perhaps I'll just rename it "Sunset on the Boobs of Otter" and stash it in my Failed File.

It seems that that experience created a "painter's block." Whenever I try to paint the Peaks, I choke.  Oh, I've painted them lots of times, but always as a Squiggle, or a way to use up paint left on my palette from something else.  I've added them here. 
This one is oil on board 8x10. I couldn't get the tops right so I just obscured them with clouds.  Clouds come in very handy when doing landscapes.  And the little building started out as a barn, but it seems someone moved in and renovated it and it became a little cabin.  This little painting makes me happy. 

And here is another oil on board, 5x7, using paint left over from a snow scene.  I like the mountains, and the snowy feel of the sky.  The fence gives it a sense of depth.  It's from a photo taken from a friend's yard.  And finally,

this little one, again 5x7 oil on board, was painted using what was left over from painting the one above.  All I had was a little ultramarine blue, a pinch of cad red, a small blob of cad yellow and a smear of white. It's fun to see how many colors I can make with whatever smudges of pigment are left after a painting session.

I don't know that I will ever make a "real" painting of the Peaks of Otter that will please me. I have seen so many of them, by such wonderful artists, I feel I can't compere or maybe it's just  been overdone.  I may frame these small ones and use them as gifts for friends who have lived away for so long that they have forgotten what these majesties really look like, or will be happy with something that is just reminiscent of the Blue Ridge.  I don't know yet.  I will put them away, upstairs, in my old painting repository, and resurrect them from time to time to see if I've improved. 

It's a way of looking back, to see how far I've come, not just painting, but living.  We all need to do that.  Look back to see how we've progressed.  It has a way of making us appreciate where we are now. 

Carole

An Apple for the Teacher

"Three Apples"

Oil on paper

Matted to 11x14

$50

 I have had a lot of teachers in my life. 

I like to think I learned something from all of them, but there are a few who stood out because of things they said.  I had a ninth grade English teacher who, at the beginning of every school year,  wrote on the board "Procrastination is the thief of time."  I think he hoped that would encourage us to work, but how many ninth graders knew what 'procrastination' meant?  It wasn't until I was a senior and had that same teacher again for English, that I was wise and learned enough to understand what he was saying.  By that time, it was too late for me. Procrastination had become a way of life. 

I started reading "Daily Painting" by Carol Marine some time ago.

Actually, when I started this blog, my intention was to paint every day and post weekly about my adventures in the studio.  That didn't happen. 

Procrastination. 

It really is the thief of time. 

My husband is one of those wonderful men who clean house. 
I am NOT a housekeeper.  I'm not saying I'm not a GOOD housekeeper. I'm just not a housekeeper AT ALL.  I don't see dust. Or cat hair. Or clutter until it starts interfering with me.  However, laundry and dishes and bill paying and all that stuff sit around calling my name and keeping me from being able to relax and paint.  I will clear the clutter, but I still don't see the dirt.  It's a trait I inherited from my mother.  I can, although, clean the kitchen, change linens, do laundry, keep accounts balanced and cook. So this weekend, between the two of us, the house was cleaned, bills were paid, dishes washed   and 2 pots of soup made.  Therefore, other than a couple of loads of laundry to run, I had nothing getting in the way of picking up a brush.  Except not knowing what to paint.  I had a basket of apples, so I decided to paint a few  and you see the result above. 

I set myself a challenge. 

I decided what to paint, laid out my choice of colors: Cad Yellow Light, Cad Yellow Medium, Cad Red, Alizarin Crimson, Cobalt Blue, Ultra Marine Blue, Raw Umber, Burnt Seinna and Titanium White, selected my brushes, taped down my paper and threw in a load of laundry.

I had 54 minutes. I painted furiously.

Voila! Three Apples.

"Apples and Bananas"

Watercolor

Framed
$160

"Apples and Bananas" is another piece quickly executed in watercolor.  I painted this one a couple of years ago, again as a timed challenge.  I enjoy doing this and really think some of my best work has been the result of working under pressure. 

"Apple and Pear with Blue Cup"

Oil on board 4x6

NFS

 

My daughter made me a cigar box pochade that I used when I painted this little piece.  You can see the finished board sitting in the lid of the pochade.  The box holds a tiny palette, a few short-handled brushes, and some small tubes of paint.  I love the way direct-from-the-tube painting results in such jewel-like colors. The little pochade is fun for plein air small works. I painted this sitting on my porch. Then I ate my subject.


And this last is just a page from my sketchbook.  I was attempting, trying, venturing into painting without drawing.  It's great fun to just let the paint go where it wants to go. You never know what you'll get. 

Sketchbook apples

I like working under time constraints.  There's no time for over-thinking.  There's just time to paint, making every stroke count. If you've never tried it, you should.  Decide on a subject. Lay out your colors. Set a timer and paint.  I have another load of laundry to do in the morning.  I can't wait to see what I can produce in 54 minutes.  However, that old devil, Procrastination, seems to rear his ugly head from time to time.  I will try to keep him at bay, at least for 54 minutes!

Carole

The Doldrums!

 Along about mid-January

and on through most of February, I usually find myself in the doldrums.  Doldrums. That's a great word.  It's an old maritime expression that I remember finding in a pirate story when I was quite young.

         *  Doldrums: an equatorial region of the Atlantic Ocean with calms, sudden storms, and light unpredictable winds *

The stock market hijacked the word to mean "a period of inactivity" but I prefer the old version used by sailors.  At any rate, I think I'm in the Doldrums, the calm between the storms of inspiration.  And so, I let my thoughts run to the sea, where I'm always renewed.

We go to the beach a couple times a year,

and one of my favorite things to do is

"Beach Squiggles." 

Squiggle! Now there's another good word.  I commandeered the word and the activity from a Kindergarten teacher who used to give her charges a sheet of paper with a line, horizontal, vertical, diagonal, straight or curved, and tell them to make a picture incorporating that line.  You could almost hear those 5-year-old wheels turning as imaginations fired.  What wonderful creations! 

Part of my travel accoutrements,

paraphernalia, 

trappings

odds and ends,

 is a small travel palette with pan colors, a few brushes and a 4x6 watercolor block.  First, I make a squiggle and then I paint, quickly, almost automatically, just having fun,

  I think, often, the hardest part of a painting is making that first mark on the paper or canvas.  It's almost like how when you get a new car, it always seems to run better after it gets that first ding. After I make that first mark it's easier to paint. 

"Beach Chairs" above is one such Squiggle.  Just after I drew a pencil line (look closely, you can see it) across the upper third of the paper, people came and put two chairs down in the sand in front of me.  I painted them in with a small brush, and when I got inside, I drew around them with a fine point pen. I like this simple little picture.  It makes me happy.

And there was a little boy wrestling with a float that kept trying to get away from him. It dashed and danced on the surf like it was a living thing and he held on like a character from Hemmingway.

A small girl shaking sand off a towel that threatens to wrap itself around her as if to protect her from the elements, far, far away from the midwinter doldrums.

Beach Squiggles!

Hope you enjoy them!

Carole