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