Afterburn from the Outer Banks

Since the plein air workshop only lasted five days, and since we brought home over 800 digital photos from our trip, I have been working from photos . . .

Time flies at the easel . . .

In October I participated in my first plein air workshop, pastels with Jack Pardue. These are the works I completed during the five day workshop on the Outer Banks of North Carolina . . . and the final painting of a snowy woods was done on the only day it rained, and we worked indoors from photos.  

Final days of summer . . .

 . . . Spent along the Green River in Flaming Geyser State Park, 10 miles southeast of Auburn, WA.    This took me about 2-2.5 hours, is about 7" x 9", on mounted Fabriano Roma.

The Mini-Paint-Out at the Puyallup Fair . . .

Today was the day . . . I prepared my art, my pastels and my ideas and headed for the fairgrounds at 8:30 am.  After a long day of painting, interspersed with quick trips here and yonder for fair food favorites (elephant ears with lots of cinnamon sugar and hawaiian shave ice and onion burgers and fries . . . . taffy. . . . and a new piece of exquisite pottery . . . .

My still life "Ate Nine" sold and I created three more

 miniatures:

Big gains in small packages . . .

I finished my last three miniatures this week.  amazing what can be learned by limiting yourself  . . . in size of work, in selection of colors for palette, in meeting a deadline.

I kind of enjoy this almost-a-painting-a-day thing . . . .

Here they are, yet unnamed. . . . 

"How do you like your eggs?"

That's the title of mini-pastel still-life #2.   Next I will try out a few landscapes from photos . . . since it is raining.  It's Seattle, after all!

"How do you like your eggs?"  3 1/2" x 5", pastel on Fabriano Roma

Ate Nine

#1 of five miniatures for examples for my demo at the fair this year . . . in pastel!  I get to do another five during my demos . . . please pass the magnifying glass!  

Ate Nine, pastel on MeTientes, 4" x 6"

Another successful scrub jay family . . .

We have watched a pair of scrub jays raise young in our laurel hedge two years in a row.  These noisy,  curious birds have brought us to the door with our binoculars or camera more than one, and we are never disappointed watching them bathe, eat, and just play in our yard. 

 
Here are some photos of the pair, and one in particular, who was playing with a milo seed in the cracks of our deck  . . . and the two of them cleaning one another!

Welcome to my studio . . .

Well . . that is when I am working indoors!  

I believe I do my best work outdoors.  Painting en plein air is the ultimate experience in which to meet the challenges of composition, palette selection, and ever changing light.  However, if you were watching me through binoculars you would swear I am ready to give up within the first 15-20 minutes of painting!  Rarely do I like my starts . . . and I must push myself through that first phase to see the fruits of perseverance.  

In the piece above, Plein Air Sunday Afternoon, (pastel on ArtSpectrum Colourfix, 8" x 13") I overcame one of a pastelists greatest challenges.  Before I deposited one single speck of pigment that day a gust of wind caught my easel, tipping it just enough to, no, not take my easel down, but to flip my box of pastels onto the asphalt.   So there I stood, surrounded by my favorite pigments, some broken, some scattered out of sight, and some mere dust particles . . . 

And wouldn't you know, a boy scout and his parents just happened by, and they graciously helped me collect all of the pieces we could retrieve from the 8-10' elipse of rainbow fragments . . . in exchange for a brief interview the young scout sought out for a project he would be able to complete once he had spoken to an artist!   How fortunate for both of us!

I went on to complete my very first plein air painting of Mt. Rainier, taking about 2 1/2 to 3 hours to close in on the final details . . . which was no mean feat considering I worked without the benefit of a palette of pastels arranged according to value and hue . . . that disappeared in the wind that day!