I'm loving this watercolor stuff . . .

Just finished this watercolor, done from a photo taken of Deb during her ritual toe dipping when we reached the Outer Banks in Kill Devil Hills, NC a couple of years ago. One who can't keep her shoes on when she hits the beach, the conditions were perfect for a night photo: the moon was rising, the surf pounding, and the camera battery did not die!


Eventide
Watercolor on J. Richeson 300# c/p, 11" x 14"

Working on new and unusual surfaces

A while back I found some cork paper at the artist supply store and thought it would be an interesting ground for pastels. Initially I had considered some primitive equine images, as if they were rendered on leather or stone . . . but during a few tests of the medium on the surface, decided to do a landscape vignette, allowing some of the surface to show under the glow of pastels pigment. And this is the first of four I will be doing:Bodie Island Light
pastel on cork 7" x 2-"

The work behind the works . . .

Occasionally another artists work "beats" me to an expression or feeling or experience I wish to portray. And often I find the best way to overcome the desire to "copy" or create something similar is to study the work by doing just that -- copying it! While working up ideas for the MS art show, "The Art of MS," I found myself wanting to portray what the MS hug feels like. However, Frank Frazetta had already created an image that conveys the sensation of having one's torso/chest compressed as if being hugged by a boa constrictor in his painting "Serpent." So I studied it to see if I could experience some of the genius behind this image.

I decided not to pursue this idea after doing this study because it would not be my own at this point. But I hope to do other concept studies of this idea to bring about an image that is original and unique, and perhaps in some way will serve as homage to this great master of intensity and freshness in the world of extraordinary subject matter.

R.I.P. Frank Frazetta, February 9, 1928 – May 10, 2010

Happy Place #1

This is the first in a new series I plan to be painting in the upcoming months depicting "happy places" I go to when pain threatens to overcome my spirit. The images will come from a bucket list of fantasy places and endeavors, some with historical foundation, that I tap regularly.

Happy Place #1, watercolor, 11" x 16"

Creating art with a specific story

During my visit at the MS clinic to schedule my second MRI series to look for spinal lesions, I was encouraged by my neurologist's assistant to submit some art to their "Living with MS" art exhibit this June. Even though I do not have a diagnosis for my weird constellation of neurological symptoms, she said as a patient in the clinic I ought to give it a whirl.

In developing this image I found myself relating to the iconic image painted by Andrew Wyeth in "Christina's World." While I haven't settled on a title, I have developed a brief description for the painting specifically for the show:

"The artist looks longingly at the mountains through an invisible barrier between herself and the activity she had just begun to enjoy before her untimely side-lining. Inspired by Andrew Wyeth's "Christina's World," an enigmatic painting of longing and determination, the artist might be asking: Is there a way that those hills and peaks can once again become the artist's domain?"

Possible name: "Invisible Barrier"

Add a caption

Finally . . . a new pastel I created for the MS Center art exhibit "The Art of Living with MS" The artist looks longingly at the mountains through an invisible barrier between herself and the activity she had just begun to enjoy before her untimely side-lining. Inspired by Andrew Wyeth's "Christina's World," an enigmatic painting of longing and determination, the artist might be asking: Is there a way that those hills and peaks can once again become the artist's domain?

Grandson's first Christmas . . .

We got to enjoy Keaton's first Christmas. Amazing how much he had changed since Halloween . . .

Plein Air pastel included in Huffington Post reader's photos slide show!

I submitted a j-peg of a pastel I did plein air on Mount Rainier to Huffington Post's National Parks Reader's Photos . . . and there I am -- slide #35! http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2009/08/25/huffpost-readers-favorite_n_263246.html?slidenumber=34#slide_image I just had to share my internet news website debut! :) I know it is not technically a photo of the park . . . but they published it along with 87 photos anyway!

Why I paint

Where Mountain Meets Sky: Muir Snowfield

pastel 12" x 18" on Fabriano Roma

This is one of my very favorite pastels, done from a photo one of the first trips to Mt. Rainier after I bought my first digital camera. I had also just recently discovered Fabriano Roma, a beautiful handmade paper with a slight laid finish and great tooth . . . a paper much like that used by Michelangelo. Muir Snowfield is a trudge of a hike, the first leg of any climb that follows the Camp Muir/Ingraham Glacier route to the summit. The Moon Rocks are to the lower right . . . a place where at the end of June 1995 I almost got blown off the mountain after my summit attempt.

The snowfield is vast, and later in the summer, treacherous. Every hundred feet of elevation gain was chore. But it also a place of stark, barren beauty. Ants, spiders, and even lady bugs crawled along with us up there. The immense summit stares down on long snaking lines of climbers hosted by Rainier Mountaineering, as well as those few of us in smaller groups, as if to dare us to continue. For many it is an oft repeated day hike . . . for me it was a feat never before attempted . . .

It was the sky, and below the serpentine spine of the ridge that falls below Camp Muir, that made this the scene that captured the spirit of climbing Rainier. Below is a colored pencil self-portrait, done from a photo taken by my guide, Steve Teufert, of Olympic Mountaineering, at the point where he and I turned around to decend . . . at Disappointment Cleaver:

My First Descent

21" x 17" colored pencil

He is growing faster than we can visit . . .

The kid is growing, cooing and laughing now . . . we must go to see him soon!

Outdoors again . . .

My latest plein air painting . . . pastel, about 6"x9" on Wallis mounted on museum board.

Away from the easel . . .

Stepping away from colorfully dusted fingertips and the world of creating art, on April 13, 2009 my first grandchild was born into our lives.  Welcome Keaton Lukas McKinley!  

It may be possible that an occasional baby portrait will be seen among the landscapes from here on out . . . 

Back to the easel . . .

This year the state is considering closing some of our state parks as the budget has been terribly impacted by the economy. Flaming Geyser is one of them. This is where we have wonderful access to the Green River . . . and where this image was inspired.

Shady Green

pastel 7" x 11" on Multimedia artboard

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!