Painting, Waiting

Watercolor is wet. It needs to dry. In a studio setting or classroom, a lot of people use hair dryers. You see it on videos all the time – brrrrrrr! But, outdoors, unless you have an outlet and a long extension cord, and want to annoy yourself, you just sit and wait for air and evaporation to get to work.

In Saguaro Land

I opened up my big sketchbook – each page is about 9×12 inches – and it was a spread across the two sheets. Above, a more traditionally done sketchy watercolor. I did a basic pencil drawing and then applied color.

Last month we drove from north of Los Angeles out to Tucson for our Global Entry interviews. En route we drove through portions of the southwest I have not yet seen, driving east from San Diego along Hwy 8, at times just north of the Mexican border. The land was sparse and beautiful in a fierce way, and before we reached Tucson we drove through the Sonoran Desert, home of the mighty saguaro cactus.

What can I say? They are tall and strange, reaching upwards to 40 feet, with arms and branches against mountains and skies filled with drama. It was beautiful. As we were on a long drive – 8.5 hours – we didn’t stop. I took a bunch of lousy pictures out of the window, and these are the basis for the above painting. An impression, not a reality, although you know these are saguaro if you have ever seen one.

This painting had to be painted in stages, so my thoughts were what to do while waiting? I decided to do some direct watercolor and use a photo I had taken of the local landscape.

Below Mount Clef in Wildwood Park

Direct watercolor has no lines, and I have found it a wonderfully fresh way to see the world and to paint. It is also a challenge not to make mud, not to get carried away, and to think strategically. For me, the real challenges are negative painting and values. Because I am making sketches in a sketchbook and not something “serious” on a sheet of expensive paper, the direct watercolor and the more traditional studies are gaining traction.

I am learning a thing or two in my old age, and there is something to be said for that. Today’s painting was very satisfying. I spent it outside at the picnic table, a few supplies, a dog at my feet, and a kicked-back-who-gives-a-damn approach. And, I don’t think either of these paintings is half bad.

About to Fall

Last week I took five rolls of film for processing.  This was taken with Kodak UltraMax 400 with an Olympus Trip 35.  It was a dark and stormy day when I wandered out, but even with 400 iso film, the images came back extremely noisy.  I had to do a bit of work to get the roll even somewhat acceptable, in my eyes, but some of the pictures were really nice.

My cheap “go to” films for 135 are Kodak UltraMax 400 and Agfa Vista 200, but I think I am going to use up the UltraMax to see how it works in different cameras.  It could be that the Olympus was at fault as it died a bit later.  I don’t want to just be done with it, but want to see if there are other issues involved.

This sycamore curves and twists over a steep fall into a barranca.  How it hangs on is rather amazing!  And when the leaves change, it is a stunningly beautiful tree.

In case you don’t know, I absolutely love trees.

 

A Slice of Heaven

A Slice of Heaven

I’m trying to reclaim my life in some ways – the hours I’ve worked have been awful, and since changed for a bit more humane schedule.  So, to reclaim my life, it means I cannot let the whiney, lazy me take over and say, wah, not enough time!  This morning, up at 6, coffee, pulled on my stinky clothes from yesterday, and went out, film cameras and phone in hand.  What a delightful thing to do!  No one around . . . the birds were singing their mating songs (especially lovely were the mockingbirds) and flitting about.  Everywhere, the pungent scent of the chaparral’s resinous plants.  The sun was still low in the sky.  As I walked, I looked, and saw . . . a wild rose in bloom . . . quails running for cover . . . mourning doves within a few feet of me.  A slice of heaven!