gouache

Snow-ebration

~ lmachayes ~ 6 Comments

Having grown up in Southern New England, I always wanted more snow. And so, I headed north for college, and even farther north for my first teaching job, and after a brief easterly jag for one year of grad school and teaching, I made my way to my current hometown, which is the farthest north I’ve lived yet. That was 39 years ago.

That first year, the snow was fantastic. Jump-off-the-rooftop-of-the-ranch-house-I’d-rented fantastic. That’s what My Guy did because we were dating and he’d stopped by to shovel off the roof for me, since we’d had so much snow. I remember it even snowed on Mother’s Day–though it was the plopity-plop-plop all night long type since it was May.

The next year it rained all of January, but I soon learned that February and March could be the snowiest months. And every year since then it has varied. Last year it was too warm, but we did get some snow. What we didn’t get was great ice thickness, so it rather limited some of our excursions if they involved crossing water.

This year is . . . different. The first snow fall was on Thanksgiving Day, and we missed it because we were away. But, we came home to discover that our next-door neighbor had made a few passes with his snowblower so we could easily pull in and we were extremely grateful for that kindness. After that it seemed like we were in a snow pattern, until it started to warm up again, and slowly we watched the snow melt. And then the snowstorms ceased. It did, however, get quite cold.

Things began to change this past week, and finally after a storm last night, we seem to be back on the right path.

Surprisingly, a Raccoon ventured into our woods during the storm, though I wouldn’t have known if it hadn’t been for the game camera.

By 8:00am, the snow was winding down and I snapped a photo before heading out to scoop the driveway and pathways to the bird feeders.

Before doing so, however, I spotted another visitor–a Carolina Wren.

By this afternoon, I’d completed my chores, and decided to head out the door, donning my snowshoes for the first time all season. Mind you, despite the chores being done, I was procrastinating and still am, as I have a few classes to teach at the end of the week and still need to finish prepping. I’m sure it’ll rain one of these days. And besides, I don’t know about you, but I always work better under pressure. At least, that’s what I tell myself.

Any tracks the Raccoon had made were obliterated because it appeared the snow had blown sideways for a bit.

I crossed over the snowmobile path that bisects our land and realized no one else had been out; and then passed into what I know as the gateway to my happy place.

There may not have been any tracks to decipher because it appeared the critters were hunkered down, but I’m always in awe of how snow transforms the world. It’s a place of peace and quiet and beauty. And just maybe if everyone had the opportunity that I have to head out into the woods alone following a storm, and felt comfortable doing so, things in our world might just be handled differently.

It didn’t take me long to start noticing the interactions that take place in the woods when it snows, like the stars that form at the top of spruce saplings.

And ice lines crossing between shrub branches that looked like delicate lacy cloth drying on a line and I couldn’t help but wonder how such formations occurred.

And then I discovered the most delightful Eastern Hemlock, its boughs hosting a snowball rolling contest, with rewards for smallest, largest, most creative shape, most creative path, and overall good sportsmanship, because, of course, everyone gets a trophy.

I also loved the interplay between the snow and the shadows of the afternoon, which made me think of my current art lessons with Jessie Lozanski. Before taking an art class with Jessie last April, I’d always sketched, but never painted. Since then, it’s been a most fantastic journey and now, if I’m not wandering in the woods, or prepping to share the natural world with others, or actually sharing it, or hiking with My Guy, I’m probably painting. I’m addicted. I have much to learn, but I’ve always loved learning and I don’t mind sharing the good, the bad, and the downright awful, in hopes that it might inspire others to lift paintbrush to paper.

Our latest class is focused on features of the landscape. I actually struggle with landscapes and much prefer to paint the critters who live there, but . . . I’m trying. We’ve worked on clouds and rocks and snow, so far, this past week being the snow-class. Rather apropos.

At the risk of boring you, these are the snow pix I’ve painted over the course of the last ten months.

My first was of a barn in Lovell, that sadly was torn down a few weeks after I painted this. Mind you, most of my paintings are from photos I’ve taken. I had no idea how to do snow, but have always noticed that it has shadows and color variation.

One of my favorite places to be during a snowstorm is on this local pedestrian bridge, especially if no one else has ventured there first. But getting the shadows right was a struggle.

This was of Sucker Brook, also in Lovell, just before sunset. There are actually many more trees, but from Jessie I’ve learned that I don’t always have to include everything. As it is, I include too much. “Simplify,” she always reminds us.

And then there was the Deer I snapped a photo of from the back door as she stopped by and enjoyed some corn and sunflower seeds in one of the bird feeders during a snowstorm.

A favorite tree of mine along our cowpath is this White Pine snag–and when it is outlined with snow, it looks like a stairway to heaven.

In the midst of taking classes with Jessie, and attending workshops she offered between lessons, I picked up a watercolor instruction book, which I really enjoyed. I just wish I could always remember what I learned from it. but this one was working with the shadows and color of snow.

And then there was the Red Fox that visited our yard and again, I tried to include those shadows and colors.

This one I do like (and you’ll see a repeat performance in a minute) and gifted to a friend because it was from a day when we were together and this was the scene before us.

And then there was the January morning not so long ago when it had rained all night, and there was still snow on the ground, and the sun was shining through the trees behind the barn, and there was some fog as a result. As well as long shadows.

In class this past week, Jessie had us all work on this painting of snow and water. It’s okay, but . . . oh yeah, the other thing she always reminds us to do is put our inner critic in a box and lock it away. Somehow, mine insists upon popping out, kinda like a Jack-in-the-Box.

Having tried acrylics, watercolors, and gouach paints, for the most part I like to work with the latter, but occasionally jump back to watercolors. And so yesterday and today I revisited this scene, trying to recreate it. I wasn’t using the correct brush for the trees, so they became too big, and then I didn’t make the brook as wide as it should have been as it moved off the page, and yada, yada, yada.

Yup, that’s my inner critic doing its best work. But . . . it’s all about snow. And I LOVE snow. And someday I hope I’ll love how I paint snow.

As for today . . . I’m just grateful that it was a Snow-ebration! Finally.

And I did notice as I completed a circular path that my next door neighbor and her two pups had also been out–that makes four of us who enjoyed the latest bounty.

My Artistic Path

~ lmachayes ~ 9 Comments

In a way, this is A Lost Art Found continued. It’s the rest of the story, at least to this date.

Once I got hooked on painting, I couldn’t stop. What I’ve discovered is that it’s a lot like writing. You choose a topic, which for me so far has been from a photograph I’ve taken as I’m afraid to purchase an easel and try plein air; complete an outline or at least jot down notes to get an idea of where you are going with the topic in the form of a values sketch; choose how to frame the story whether upon watercolor paper or canvas, and the media being watercolors, acrylics, or gouache; begin a first draft of sketching a wee bit on the mat of choice and apply a light colored wash; paint the basic shapes to get the story on paper which may be more representational than factual; and then tweak, tweak, tweak, which sometimes takes me eighteen drafts to get to a publishable product, and even then, I know more changes can be made.

But here’s the thing. I’m brand new to this art form. And thanks to Jessie, my teacher/mentor, I’ve learned a lot and still have more to learn. Then what’s the thing? The thing is that in every painting I’ve completed so far, there’s plenty I can critique, but at least one thing that I like and so that’s what I want to focus on. The rest I can learn . . . down the road.

After our spring session of classes ended, I decided to keep going on my own.

The view from the summit of Blueberry Mountain, Evans Notch, New Hampshire, looking toward Shell Pond below and the mountains beyond. My fav: the shape of the pond.

Frenchmen’s Hole in Newry, Maine. My fav: the color of the water, darker in the depths and lighter as if flowed over rocks to the next fall.

Sunrise, Lubec, Maine. My fav: the rope in the foreground. And the sky.

Carsley Brook, Lake Environmental Association’s Highland Research Forest, Bridgton, Maine. My fav: the trees leaning across the brook.

Lady’s Slippers from any of our counts as a gift for My Guy, who I’ve learned only likes to count them when they are in bloom. Since that season, he can’t be bothered to note the leaves or occasional seed pods and is praying it snows soon so I won’t continue to point them out. My fav: the shape of the flowers.

The fire tower at the summit of Pleasant Mountain. My fav: a sense of perspective with the mountains.

All of these were watercolor paintings. And then . . .

I purchased some gouache and painted Hemlock Covered Bridge. My fav: the bridge and the reflection, but also the lesson that this was a bit like completing a paint by number as I broke it up into different sections.

Fall reflection cropped from a river scene. My fav: All of it. It was like painting a jigsaw puzzle. And i loved creating the wavy lines.

Winter along Heald Pond Road, Lovell, Maine. The interesting thing is that this barn was taken down a few weeks after I painted this scene. My fav: the barn boards and the snow. And my learning–painting the lower background before adding the foreground trees.

Our barn at Christmas. My fav: The reflection in the window.

Interior of Hemlock Covered Bridge in Fryeburg, Maine. My fav: sense of perspective.

Sunlit part of spider web inside Hemlock Covered Bridge on mat canvas. My fav: texture of the boards and light between boards.

Bob Dunning Memorial Bridge, Pondicherry Park, Bridgton, Maine. My fav: the different beams that provide support as each represents a different species of native wood.

Approaching Bob Dunning Memorial Bridge on a snowy day when no one else had yet entered Pondicherry Park in Bridgton, Maine. My fav: the bend in the bridge.

Beaver at Albany Mountain trail, Bethel, Maine. My fav: the beaver’s face.

Denning Black Bear. Location a well-kept secret. My fav: the eyes.

Painted Turtle, Moose Pond, Maine. On mat canvas. My fav: colors of the water.

In August, Jessie offered a second class and we had to stuff our art critics in a box in the upper corner of the paper and leave them locked inside and then jot down what we wanted to work on for this session. She also had us take a look at Van Gogh’s style of outlining and bringing focus together.

And then, from a photo of our own, we tried to emulate the famous artist. This was a rough draft that I never finished. My fav: I love the colors and simplicity of it.

A second attempt at emulating Van Gogh. My fav: the trees in the background.

Third try. The sky was different. My fav: getting better at perspective.

In between classes I continued to paint. One of my absolute favs: Bandit! The porcupine I met in the yard last year. My fav: His face.

A Moose My Guy and I met in the beaver pond on Albany Mountain Trail, Bethel, Maine. My fav: His face.

What’s left of the Hayes Homestead, My Guy’s great-grandparents’ farm in Nova Scotia. My fav: shingles.

An amazing moment when I visited the vernal pool out back as the sun lowered and discovered that in the stillness of the water, a rainbow was created by the pollen, and while the tree shadows draped across the pond, they also were visible in their usual vertical presentation on the water. My fav: colors of the sunlight on the pollen.

Back to class and learning more about values. I have to admit that I don’t always heed this advice and do a values sketch before painting.

Photo of Ovens Cave, Nova Scotia.

Cropping the photo in sketches.

One final sketch before painting.

First attempt in gouache. My fav: colors of the rocks.

Jessie taught us a neat trick to check values by using a filter on our phones.

Trying to be more abstract with the same scene. My fav: the color of the water.

Values photo of the same.

The third time we met we talked about basic shapes and had to quickly paint trees. It was supposed to be six trees, but our class only got through four. I guess we weren’t so quick after all. My fav: the willow. But also thinking about different shapes. And how to fill them in quickly.

Hairy Coo My Guy and I met in Scotland. My fav: the ear tag!

Values sketch of photo she offered in class, and getting the basic shapes on paper.

And then we could only use certain colors to paint the scene, filling in the shapes first before adding detail. This was mind opening for me. My fav: making blobs look like trees.

The same scene using different complementary colors on the wheel. I struggled with the values in this one. My fav: the trees still look like trees.

This one has been the most difficult for my family to understand. An intersection of granite ledges and tree roots on Bald Pate Mountain, Bridgton, Maine, on a canvas mat. My fav: the tree roots.

Ledges on descent of Rumford Whitecap Mountain, Rumford, Maine. My fav: the trees with the mountain backdrop.

Bickford Slides, Blueberry Mountain, Evans Notch, Maine. And the discovery that I had accidentally purchased a small tube of shimmery white watercolor paint. My fav: water flowing over the mossy rocks.

Shadows across Hemlock Bridge Road, Fryeburg, Maine. My fav: those very shadows. And the rocks that line the road.

Back to gouache to capture the reflection of a falling down cabin on a small pond in New Hampshire. My fav: the trees and hints of the blue sky.

The final assignment took us two classes. This is the scene I chose to paint. Sucker Brook at Greater Lovell Land Trust’s Wilson Wing Moose Pond Bog Reserve, Lovell, Maine.

Planning with sketches, markers, and paint and figuring out what might work best. And simplifying the scene.

Jessie gave me a piece of Hot Press Finish paper upon which to work, and I have to admit that it was a joy to paint on this. I started with the sky color as the wash and then worked on the snow next, then the water, and finally the trees. My fav: sunlight reflected on the snow in the background.

After I shared that painting with a friend, she commented, “Can’t you do something other than snow until there is snow?” So, I painted a fall scene at the summit of Bald Pate. The mountain tops are not quite this color yet, but will be in a couple of weeks. My fav: contrast of colors.

My last painting to date on a larger canvas sheet was a Pileated Woodpecker that frequents our woods. I discovered, like the Hot Press paper, I really like the canvas except that it takes a while for the paint to dry. My fav: the bird’s head and the pine tree bark on the right.

That’s all I have to offer at the moment. And if you stuck with me this far, I’m impressed. Thank you!

I keep thinking about this creative journey and can’t wait to see where it takes me next. If you are interested, you can follow my artistic path by clicking on wmw art gallery every once in a while.