- Published on
Summer Collapsed Into Fall
September.
How did THAT happen? Already our neighbor's tree has begun to turn. Already the shadows have lengthened. Already the crows are practicing aerial acrobatics in the evening sky, contemplating forming murders. It seemed like summer had only just begun.
But no wallowing! Here in the studio, we're packing our traveling art supplies and getting ready for a big, long adventure along the coast of Northern California, plunging into the redwoods, the wild ocean and acres of dunes. We'll gather up all the sun and surf we can, even as the temperatures drop and we pull out the wool for chilly morning dog walks on the beach.
How did THAT happen? Already our neighbor's tree has begun to turn. Already the shadows have lengthened. Already the crows are practicing aerial acrobatics in the evening sky, contemplating forming murders. It seemed like summer had only just begun.
But no wallowing! Here in the studio, we're packing our traveling art supplies and getting ready for a big, long adventure along the coast of Northern California, plunging into the redwoods, the wild ocean and acres of dunes. We'll gather up all the sun and surf we can, even as the temperatures drop and we pull out the wool for chilly morning dog walks on the beach.
And, of course, we will be witnessing and photographing all the beauty we can grab - fodder for future paintings and creative endeavors that haven't yet been imagined.
On the easel, just completed, this selfie-inspired portrait (what to do when you've run out of inspirational models!) in oils. Underneath the portrait is a full failure of a painting, which became a lovely base of texture to keep things from becoming too precious. Beginning with a notanized photograph, I roughed in a sketch in blue oil pastel. Then a liquin-thinned wash of white mixed with ivory, grabbing the blue pastel edges and thinning it all into the beginnings of flesh-tones. The requisite 80 million layers of paint, this time with a very small brush (usually I opt for something large to keep things loose). The small brush allows some natural mottling and texture. The hair was roughed in with a rubber brayer, some chopsticks and the occasional shirt-sleeve (unintended)
The last painting of summer. And now....fall!
On the easel, just completed, this selfie-inspired portrait (what to do when you've run out of inspirational models!) in oils. Underneath the portrait is a full failure of a painting, which became a lovely base of texture to keep things from becoming too precious. Beginning with a notanized photograph, I roughed in a sketch in blue oil pastel. Then a liquin-thinned wash of white mixed with ivory, grabbing the blue pastel edges and thinning it all into the beginnings of flesh-tones. The requisite 80 million layers of paint, this time with a very small brush (usually I opt for something large to keep things loose). The small brush allows some natural mottling and texture. The hair was roughed in with a rubber brayer, some chopsticks and the occasional shirt-sleeve (unintended)
The last painting of summer. And now....fall!
I too am noticing the incremental signs of meteorological change, reminders/pointers for the less noticeable but ever-present nature of life … which is nothing if not CHANGE. Here and now are our perpetual and perpetually changing starting points.
Sweet quietly penetrating selfie-inspired portrait.