This simple scene was sketched looking a bit to the right of the last one I did at the Cheese Factory, along the same ridge of hills, and earlier in the day when the sun was at its height. I may add some cows later.
Just using the leftover paint from the architectural painting of my last post. I hate to waste paint, and this gives me an excuse to play with color and form.
I've been working on this abstracted architectural landscape for the past few days, as an exercise and a warmup to another abstracted urban landscape I've had in mind to do for months but wasn't sure how to approach. I've hardly done any urban landscapes to date, so just playing around with geometric shapes and perspective has been quite helpful.
This was done from a photo I took at Covelo Ranch in the spring, when the slough was full. Now it is completely dried up and you can walk across the bed to the field beyond. I loved the subtle gray-greens set against the pink of the plum blossoms and their reflections in the brown water, with the charming little turquoise foot bridge in the distance.
Another palette knife plein air study. I've painted these plum trees before, but that was in the spring when they were full of blossoms. I love the rich dark color of plum trees in summer, which I painted yesterday under the shade of an apple tree next to the horse corral. I'll get to those horses at some point, hopefully.
I used a very limited palette for this color field study, just cad orange, cobalt blue, and titanium white. I may do more to it, but I kind of like the overall effect as is.
This was a quick sketch of the pond at the Cheese Factory along Point Reyes-Petaluma Road in Marin County. It is a venue worth revisiting for the sheer variety of subject matter.
Yet another umbrella sketch. I do wish they'd change their seating arrangements once in a while, so I could get another angle whilst sitting and watching my dog watch people -- her favorite thing. What am I to do? It's a compromise in favor of Lola's well being. She lives to socialize, and I live to paint; we are at cross purposes, my dog and I. My deceased partner Roy warned me about this very thing. Oh well. I see a lot of umbrellas.
I was in the mood for a nude, so here she is. This was done mostly with a brush, using a palette knife in a couple spots only. I miss oil painting, and I miss painting with brushes. Note to self: do some more.
This digital painting is from a photo I had taken a while ago somewhere in the countryside northwest of Petaluma. I found the bathtub to be a charmingly odd curiosity, and one that added scale to the massive barn behind it. Care for a soak, anyone?
This one nearly didn't make it due to extreme frustration. But having put it in the time out room for a day, upon viewing it with fresh eyes, I knew right away of one thing it needed. That result dictated what to do next, and when I got to a stopping point, it went back to the time out room for another brief stay. It may be finished, I don't know. I've chosen to stop, and when I look at it hanging on the wall, I am not displeased by the effect it has on me. This painting has similarities to an earlier work, entitled Lovebirds. The two will be hanging in close proximity during my open studio on July 4th. I have filled the walls with new work and wish I had two more pairs of hands to handle all the paintings I feel are in me. This may be a common complaint of artists everywhere, but it's only gotten worse over time. My solace is in the digital art I can produce on the spot, no muss, no fuss. It's a great tool, and I am grateful to have it at my fingertips, literally. Organic, "real" painting is another animal, it seems. With the atmosphere so arid lately, my paint turtles dry up within seconds. Very frustrating! It makes me want to run to my oils. Ah, I think I hear the Caribbean calling!
This was a simple palette knife study with an offbeat palette of titanium white, permanent yellow, vermillion, English red, alizarin crimson, and ultramarine blue. Here I'm working with subtle gradations of cool against warm, pushing the boundaries of subtle in color as far as I can without losing the concept of a landscape, which I wanted to retain with this one.
More umbrellas! These two were fully deployed, unlike the last one I painted, Blue Umbrella. You can be sure that when an outdoor umbrella appears on this blog, it's the result of a pause on a walk with my dog.
This scene has been nagging at me for a long time. I had taken the reference photo for it in June of 2006. There was a mist in the morning air, which made the distant hills appear lighter and the foreground brighter, at least as captured in the photo. I wanted to play with neutrals to see if I could recreate that atmosphere.
This digital painting was done from a photo I had taken in May at Ellis Creek here in Petaluma. Such a variety of colors and shapes, it was hard to simplify it all.
This started out as a still life of a stalk of yellow gladiolas in a green vase. I wasn't happy with it, so I took the bottle out of the picture and gave it an abstract background. As I looked at it, I started to see these little figures like the Chinese acrobats I'd see on the Ed Sullivan Show back in the '60s. I'll admit, I was in a peculiar mood when I painted this today.
This was done from a drive-by shooting yesterday near the little town of Bodega, as this barn is situated such that there is no place to paint it on site from this angle. My trusty camera captured it, though, and I set the time at either dusk or dawn -- could be either, from the pink horizon.
I used a reference photo I had taken last summer on Hicks Valley Road, in the countryside west of Petaluma. The paint horse in the foreground had risen up out of the landscape like a blossom in the desert. I spent two hours working on it with a palette knife, then took a lunch break. But now, after stepping away, I feel that if I go back in there, the painting may change radically, and perhaps not for the better. As it stands, the landscape is simplified and abstracted, and in harmony with itself, something I can only achieve working alla prima, which is to say completing a painting in one session. The way I mix colors varies from session to session, and so a reworking of one area can result in a pasted-on look, which causes a chain reaction throughout, and then you're cooked, and the painting is DOA. Still, I may not be able to resist toying with this one later, even though I feel it has a bit of life in its current, unfinished state. In a nutshell, I am not ashamed to walk away from this one as is.
Done from a photo I found online that reminded me of a Tibetan hillside, I loved the color the light made of the distant hills, offset by a shaft of light turning the mustard field a neon green.
This was done as a value study from a photo of Loma Alta, a mountainous region near Santa Barbara (if I'm not mistaken -- I've never been there), prompted by my recent efforts at abstracted landscapes. Done with a palette knife, I didn't spend too much time on it, but I like the overall effect.
For this little palette knife painting, I used a photo reference. Although Ha Long Bay is in Vietnam, this scene reminds me of my time in China in 2013, floating down the Yulong River on a bamboo raft, surrounded by these monolithic karsts. The haunting echo of birdsong off the karsts lends a dreamy, otherworldly feeling to the scene. This will be my 22nd painting as a result of that trip, and I feel I have at least 4 more Asian paintings in me yet to come.
This is another painting done mostly without a visual reference. I cheated a little bit in looking at cow shapes online, but the landscape itself is imaginary, as far as I know. This painting has gone through a lot of changes since its inception, due to the challenges it presented with the palette I had chosen, the colors of the shadow areas, and the scale and color values of the cows, trees and hills at various distances in shadow or light, all without a visual reference to work from. My goal was not to create a realistic scene. I wanted an overall feeling of warmth and space, a late afternoon on a hot day when it's just starting to cool off and the cows are on the move. Who knows where they're headed?
This is a palette knife painting I did from a photo I had taken along Chileno Valley Road, just west of Petaluma. There were already globs of dried paint on the canvas before I started, having gessoed over a previous painting that hadn't gone well. The added texture did not get in the way here; in fact, I think it rather enhances this scene, giving it a rough textural effect.
This is a riff on Color Study, a variation of another iPad abstracted landscape I did some months ago. I see traces of Ellis Creek here, a favorite haunt of mine.
Another umbrella sketch while on a walk with my dog. I like painting outdoor umbrellas on my iPad because I can generally finish them in 10-15 minutes, which is about all I get before my dog gets bored and starts to wander off.
Here's another abstracted landscape from my imagination. I just wanted to paint some geometric shapes, but of course it evolved into something somewhat recognizable. I only had about an hour's time to do it, and knew that once I stopped, I would not be able to come back to it and pick up where I left off, because I would have changed by then, just as sure as the cloud patterns drifting by, never to look exactly the same again. Once the moment has passed with these things, I find it's best to move on.
This palette knife painting was done on site, next to the koi pond at my friends' ranch, and I was going to work on it a bit more in the studio, but couldn't get to it yesterday and won't be able to today, which means the paint will have dried in the areas I was hoping to work. So, here it is in all its raw glory.
Another plum tree painting, this one from Covelo Ranch. The blossoms have fallen and the leaves take on either a purplish or reddish glow, depending on the light. I just love the color of plum trees.
This still life was a way to use up the leftover paint on my palette from "Flora." You can see all the same colors in this one. For some reason, I saw a halo of light around the bottle, so I painted it.
This was done as a form of relief from a larger painting I've been slaving over for the past three days. Sometimes, there's just not enough paint. I sketched it in and got to a point where I could go on with it forever or leave it in its raw form. I left it at that.
Here's another painting from my imagination, working without a visual reference. I saw myself lying in a hammock with a canopy of white wisteria drooping above me. This one gets a time out, since I'm not sure I'm done with it quite yet. Time will tell.
This is a sketch I did while on a walk with the pups yesterday at Ellis Creek in Petaluma, just after a light rain. This area, a nature reserve, is astoundingly beautiful, with all kinds of birdlife on view. Swans, Canadian geese, stilts, and blue and white herons are all common sightings. I'm hoping to carve out a few hours some day soon to do a plein air painting.
This is another effort to work without a visual reference. My only plan was to stick to a certain limited palette (ivory black, Prussian blue, alizarin crimson, cad yellow light, and white) and the plant world. I've always loved the underside of flowers, especially when they are backlit and get this deep glow emanating from the center. It's a perspective that's kind of hard to capture without a camera, so I relied on memory and imagination. The idea was to do something floral that looked like it would smell divine. These giant buds turned out rather peony-like and, now that we're finally moving into spring, sweet! -- hence the title.
This is an abstract painting from my imagination sparked by a desire to paint a gorgeous purple and white bearded iris that opened as I was leaving the ranch this past week. As you can see, it morphed into something else entirely. At least I kept to the plant world, sort of. I do enjoy working without a concrete plan, just to see what happens.
The property where I have my art studio sits at the top of a knoll, and I've always liked the view south beyond the vineyard to the hill that shows Ely Road climbing up and over another knoll. This was the view I had from my former art studio and as beautiful as it is, I still haven't gotten around to painting it with actual paint. I see beauty everywhere, though, so to narrow the choice down is always a difficult one for me.
This was done in the studio from a photo I had taken at the ranch, and I loved the subtle layers the mist made out of the distant hills. I'm not quite done with this one, but will not be able to get back to it for a few days. Who knows, it may be finished now. I never know these things. I find it helpful to sit with a painting for as long as it takes to receive the answer to that question. I've heard it said you never finish a painting; you just stop working on it.
All those years of indoctrination in the mental practice of labeling things can work against the creative impulse in the artist. I noticed it happening with this piece, as a fish appeared before my eyes, and so when I caught that (pun intended!), I tried to work against the tendency. It was a bit like swimming upstream, hence the title.
I've been wanting to do faces again, so here's another one. I was going to "finish" it, but now I think I'll just let it stand as is. I like the sketchiness of the background and the minimalist treatment of her hair. Once I saw the spirit in this painting, I was loathe to toy with it. Update: Couldn't help myself, had to do one more wee little thing to it.
Another painting started on site and finished in the studio, done with a palette knife. This scene is of the side yard by the main house, with the slough running alongside and a large field beyond.
This started as a plein air painting which was finished later in the studio. I wanted to paint the sheep relaxing in the white flowered grass, against the subtle color variations in the trees beyond, but as soon as I set my gear up, they were gone. How dare they! Luckily, I took a photo where some of the sheep were still lingering and used it as reference for the studio work.