Fog Monster #1

The California coast depends on the fog that rolls in from the Pacific during the late spring and summer – and other times of the year, probably – for its ecology.  Plants collect the damp of the fog as a primary water source, and at times it makes the coastal areas, and inland valleys, rather damp and dreary.

Here, we call it “May Grey” and “June Gloom” and “The Fog Monster” – and believe me, when you live in a coastal city in July, and the sky is cold and damp, you cannot help but agree with Mark Twain when he said, “The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco.”

You see the coastal fog rolling over the foothills toward the inland valleys.  I tried to simplify my palette and fields of color to suggest distance.  The sun is coming from the viewer’s right, so I also worked to make it evident on the distant hills.  I used a lot of dry brush in the foreground, and basically worked from top to bottom so that the distant layers would be overlaid by the middle and foreground.  The only thing that wasn’t quite in that sequence were the fence posts.  Once they were established, dry brush to represent grasses was employed.

Chrysanthemums

Years ago I did Japanese ink painting, along with Chinese painting.  Chrysanthemums are a traditional study.  Here, I tried to work with the gouache in the same fashion – following the same formula – as in Oriental painting.  Because the paper and pigment are different, it doesn’t work out the same, although the brushwork is applied similarly.

Using what I learned from the first painting, while I held to the constructs I had learned in Asian painting, I applied the principles of gouache here.  I built on layers and worked over areas I wasn’t too thrilled with.

Being familiar with how different painting techniques are applied is very handy.  This knowledge can be applied to another area (here, painting) and modified to fit the needs of the medium.  Painting is like opening up a brand new world!  It is quite an adventure.

Enough, and More Than Enough

Many people, myself included, as they age start to get rid of the possession’s they have accumulated throughout their lives.  I am no exception, sort of.

To begin with, I am of the thought that to learn about something, you need to experience it.  This can be done in a lot of ways, such as projecting ideas and thinking about ways in which people could respond, by reading, and so on.  I like to learn things by doing.  As a result, I have a lot of stuff.  I have too many sewing machines, too many cameras, too many brushes, too many tubes of paint.  I used to have too many spinning wheels, too many pairs of shoes, too much yarn.  I’ve paired those last areas down quite a bit, but still wonder about other things.

Let’s begin with sewing machines.  Why do I have so many – or “sew many” as one might pun.  Good question.  The answer is simple:  curiosity.  I have a treadle machine with a vibrating shuttle and long bobbins.  I still need to master it.  There is a YouTube video I have tagged to watch.  I have a Singer 99 handcrank I bought for buttonholes.  I have a Kenmore 1030 that was a present from an old beau.  I have a Featherweight 222K that I got because it was cute, little, and diverged from the 221 in that the feed dogs drop and the free arm is tiny, making it excellent for sleeves.  I have a Janome 6500, a computerized machine that is a workhorse and big.  I have a Presto II, also computerized, and lightweight for taking to classes, and using in a sewing table.  There are others, too, that have cams and other features that simply make them interesting and different from others in the collection.  I also have an non-working one that belonged to my mother – sentiment keeps it around.

Next, photography.  Over 10 years ago a very good friend loaned me his Nikon D70 so I could learn about photography without using film.  It opened the door to enjoying and understanding photography as an art form.  It cost me nothing to use except buying a card for the images.  I had it for a year.  In that year, I learned a lot and finally felt that film could be an adventure.  I have a few digital cameras – Nikons all – a Df, D7000, V1, V3.  I also have a lot of lenses, some autofocusing, some manual.  I also have bought some dirt cheap film cameras, the FM2n, F3, F100, F90s.  I also have some folding cameras from the 30s, in both 35mm and 120mm format, and a Yashica TLR.  I have a rangefinder, which I am not at all crazy about.  I have some Olympus cameras, too; an OM-1, OM-2, OM-4Ti, a Trip 35, and XA4.  All of these cameras provide for different experiences.  Lately I have acquired some 50s Agfas, such as the Silette, and these “newer” vintage cameras have their own charms and experiential value.

Finally, paint supplies.  This really was the central point of this post!  Many people say to work with a limited palette of colors – but color, for me and many others, are a siren’s song.  There are so many luscious colors out there.  The same color by this manufacturer is different than that manufacturer.  How can anyone who loves to paint and loves color resist?  I know I can’t!  But, I do know, that if I don’t experience the color first hand, how can I determine its value in my palette?

On that note, I leave you.  To me, all of the above have provided experiences that I could not have had otherwise.  Yes, I have enough, and more than enough in many instances.  However, the historical value of sewing machines and cameras is something I enjoy.  The range of colors I have helps me to learn what I like and don’t like.  All of them draw me at different times, and to experience them, today or a week later, or even months, is a joy.  So, enough?  Or, too much?