Ellicott City Paint It

Old Ellicott City Fire Station, oils on canvas panel, 9 " 12."

Painting the Firehouse from Main Street. Photo by Vesselinka Warren

Last weekend (Aug 28-29) was the "Paint It" plein air in Ellicott City. There were about thirty artists juried for the event and it was my first juried plein air competition. We had two days to produce our paintings, then bring the framed paintings to the Howard County Center for the Arts (Hocoarts.org) for the exhibition.

On Saturday morning I headed over with the idea of starting with the old railroad station, now operated as a museum. I had not realized that the museum did not open until 11 AM. I had my rolling cart to drag my ever-increasing art supplies, so I decided to use the time painting a street scene in front of near-by St. Paul's Church.

The day was sunny, and getting hotter. By the time I finished my first painting at noon, standing in the sun was unbearable, and my painting was nothing I cared to show. Chalk that one up to a warm-up. An old friend and fellow artist, Mary Jo Tydlacka, walked by and saw me--she was painting another view of this scene from the porch of the house next to the church, and she had been smart enough to set up in the shade.

Ellicott City Station, oils on canvas panel, 11" x14."

After gathering my stuff, I rolled my cart over to the B&O Railroad Museum to ask permission to set up on the platform. The lady behind the counter said that would be fine as long as I paid the entry fee of $5 and didn't block anyone. Done! I asked if I could leave my stuff there to go pick up a sandwich across the street, ate quickly and was back at the station before one o'clock. Another attendant opened a gate to the ramp leading up to the platform so I could get my cart up.

The afternoon passed quickly while I painted. Quite a number of folks, many with children in tow, came over to see what I was doing and asked questions. I explained about the Ellicott City Paint It and urged them to come see the exhibit later on. One little girl in particular was fascinated and stopped to watch me for a long time.

I finished around four, utterly dehydrated and done in by the heat. Where were those volunteers from the tourism office who were supposed to bring us water bottles from time to time? I left the station and got everything back to my car, and drove to the parking lot near the Howard County Tourism Office to get some water. I debated whether to try for one more painting or call it a day--eight hours on my feet in that heat was just about enough.

After drinking a bottle of iced water I felt better and walked about looking for another painting. There were two pastel artists right across the street from the Tourism Office doing some very nice pieces. At the corner was an antique shop that had several chairs set out on the sidewalk, and I sat on one to rest my aching feet and take in the view. The Old Ellicott City Fire Station (again now a museum) perched on a hill above Main Street would make a nice painting.

A man came out of the store and started to bring things in. It was almost five so I asked him if he was closing soon. At five, he said. Perfect! I could bring my own chair from the car and sit here. The crowds thinned out a bit after the stores closed. I was deep into painting when a lady walking by asked me if I would mind having my photo taken. Of course not, I said. Her charming accent betrayed her foreign origin and I asked where she was from--Bulgaria--we chatted a bit and she offered to send me a copy of the photo so I could use it here.

By the time I finished my painting the sun was long down and it was getting dark--it was eight o'clock and I was completely exhausted. I had barely the energy to drive home, eat some dinner and hit the sack. I was asleep in an instant.

Patapsco River Bridge, oils on canvas panel, 11" x 14"

The next morning I left the house earlier, hoping to use the cool of the day to paint by the river. It was a little hazier than the previous day, but the early light was beautiful on the water and the rocks. Deborah and Maria, the two pastel artists I'd talked with before were there, and shortly after I started, another artist came by. Janice had begun her painting the day before but had not finished it, so I moved over a bit to allow her some room. Her painting was gorgeous and it received a well-deserved award. She also made a few helpful comments about mine that I really appreciated. Overall, I think this was the most successful of my four.

Quitting around noon, this time I was ready to head home and frame my wet paintings (always a tricky proposition) to hand them in that evening for the exhibition. On Monday evening there was a reception and awards ceremony--there were a lot of wonderful paintings there and all are for sale. Go see the show at the Howard County Center for the Arts; it will be up until October 15.

Return of the Stinkhorns and Other Backyard Sightings

The stinkhorn fungi have made their reappearance in my front yard after the recent rains. There were quite a few more this time, popping up in the flower bed and lawn under the maple tree. This time I was able to photograph them immediately while they were intact, and thanks to the MushroomExpert.com site, I can now identify these definitely as Mutinus caninus. The spores from that first one must have been spread by the insects it attracts and the fungi have now colonized the area. Herb called my attention to these structures that look like a small egg partially buried in the ground. These are the first indication of the fruiting body of the fungi and form the covering for the tip.

* * *

This morning I woke to a soft rain. I was downstairs fixing myself a cup of tea, looking out the kitchen window when I spotted a creature of reddish color under one of our cedars in the back yard. At first, without my glasses on, I took it to be our neighborhood ginger cat making his rounds, but a second glance told me it was too large for a cat. Could it be one of our resident foxes?  Herb told me he has seen one out in the open (maybe the same individual?) on a few occasions during the day; one time he was lying in the shade in our neighbor's front yard on a very hot day.

I ran upstairs to get my glasses, and sure enough, it was a fox. He started to scratch  himself furiously, turning around from time to time to bite whatever was tormenting him. After a good while of doing this, he lay down, but rest eluded him and he kept turning from side to side to scratch incessantly. I took some photos and sat down to read the morning paper.

After a while I got up to make my second cup of tea, and looked out again. A doe had come out of the woods to browse under our trees. I got the camera out again. The fox sat up to look at the deer, perhaps calculating whether he had a chance at it, and the deer looked back at the fox at the precise moment I snapped this shot.

After that glance, the deer went back to browsing unconcerned and left after a few minutes. The fox stayed under the tree for a bit longer and then he too left. Altogether he must have been in our back yard for some forty minutes or so. I don't think I've ever had a chance to observe a fox this closely for this long before.

Winnaford Farm

Winnaford Farm, oils on canvas panel, 11" x 14." Contact artist for price.

Last weekend MAPAPA members were invited to paint at historic Winnaford Farm in Baldwin, some miles north of Baltimore. We couldn't have asked for a more beautiful day: clear and sunny with moderate temperatures in the seventies. The old farmhouse was surrounded by cornfields and a yard shaded by enormous trees, with several ancient horse chestnut trees loaded with the huge green fruits (they must be a sight when in bloom!).

There were about seven or eight other painters already set up by the time I got there a bit after nine. I picked a spot under the ancient trees overlooking the cornfields and this lovely cottage with the classic white picket fence. Except for the occasional sound of a motor wafting from far away, it could have been a summer day a century ago--the pastoral scene seemed so timeless.

The time passed quickly while we painted, and most of us were finished by lunchtime. Most of the painters left at that time--no critiques were offered, though I asked a few to show me their paintings or sketches.

I had brought a sandwich so I could last through the afternoon, and our hostess, Ann Dance, supplied iced tea. A handful of us stayed on. After lunch I walked around the other outbuildings and decided to paint a patch of sunflowers taller than I am. There were chickens cooped right under the sunflowers and, as anyone who has ever been around chickens knows, their droppings stink to high heaven, but I figured out in the open the smell wouldn't be too bad.

Sunflowers, oils on canvas panel, 12" x 9."

Wrong! I was downwind, and after a couple of hours in the late afternoon sun the stench was overpowering! It was hard to stay on task and focused on painting, but I stuck it out for as long as I could. I wouldn't say this one turned out well--the light had changed too much from beginning to end of the painting and the colors lack luminosity--but under the circumstances it was the best I could do. Next time I'll know better than to get that close to a chicken coop.

Painting on Mattawoman Creek

Lotus at Mattawoman Creek, oils on canvas panel, 9" x 12." 
SOLD

My friend Linda sent word that the yellow lotus on Mattawoman Creek was blooming, so last weekend I went down for a visit. The hundred-degree days of the previous weekend had moderated somewhat--we figured it was safe to take out the kayak to paint the lotus from up close.

It was a beautiful morning, still cool, when we rigged the double kayak up on my car and drove down to Indian Head to the boat ramp at Mattingly Park. I had brought my Guerilla painter box and canvas supply bag to work on a small oil painting, and my camera. Linda took her watercolors, a sketchpad and camera. With all this gear, extra water and our lunches, it was a wee bit crowded in the kayak. We lathered on sunscreen and bug spray, and started paddling with our stuff wedged between our legs.

The tide was high and allowed us to paddle into a shallow inlet to pull up close to the flowers. Wild rice was blooming in the marsh. We tied to a clump of Pickerel weed and proceeded to set up for painting. Once again the knob of my Guerilla box had come off--it must have fallen in the trunk of my car but I hadn't noticed it until it was time to set up. It took some maneuvering to balance the paint box on my thighs and wedge the lid at the bow, thus holding it open. More maneuvers to prop the solvent jar upright by one leg and the brush holder on the other side. At one point a couple of brushes fell overboard, but the handles being wood, they floated and I was able to retrieve them. Ah, the things one endures to paint in nature!

Linda wasn't having such a difficult time: watercolors and paper are much lighter and easier to deal with in the field, though I don't find the finished product as satisfying. It took about two hours to complete my small oil, at which point we were both burnt out and stiff from our cramped quarters. My thighs were dripping with sweat and had the imprint of the rubber feet from the paint box on them. The tide was starting to turn when we pulled out onto the main channel.

It was now time to cool off with an afternoon dip and lunch--we paddled a bit farther to another channel where there is a high gravel mound and pulled the kayak up on the shore. The water felt great, even if the hydrilla growing thickly underneath tickled. There were wild hibiscus plants with white and pink flowers around the shore and a huge roost of swallows on one tree. A pair of ospreys circled overhead. It's hard to believe a pristine marsh like this can be found only thirty miles from the hustle and bustle of downtown Washington, D.C.

All too soon it was time to start back, grungy and tired. Back at the house Patrise was  cooking the baby-back ribs I'd brought for our dinner. We showered and rested a bit and then went to an evening performance of a colonial wedding enactment at National Colonial Farm. We enjoyed a delicious picnic before this fascinating look at what a wedding in the 1750's would have been like, with wonderful period costumes.

Lavender Fields Again

Lavender Fields in Provence, oils on archival linen panel, 12" x 16." Contact artist for price.
SOLD

I sold one of my remaining paintings of the lavender fields of Provence last week, and that made me wish I could go back to France right away, to paint some new ones on location. Since that was not possible--at least not this year--I went back to look at all the old photos from my two trips to the Luberon. Both of those trips (2002 and 2004) took place before I owned a digital camera, so the photos I have are limited in number, and not all are suitable for paintings.

This spot was one of the highlights of our trip, taken one afternoon when we went out painting with our artist friend from Rousillon, Francoise Valenti. The lavender in this field was not quite in full bloom yet, but a little imagination helped. I recall painting a watercolor there which sold very soon after our return.

The challenge here was to capture the spirit of plein air and apply all of the lessons about color to a work created from photos. I think my colors appear realistic, giving a good sense of depth and distance. Provence is such a lovely place... I wish I could paint there every year!

Red-Hot Bouquet

Red-Hot Bouquet, oils on canvas panel, 16" x 12."

Last weekend I went to the Olney Farmer's Market at its new location--Montgomery General Hospital's Thrift Shop--and the market was better than last year. The new location has some trees and grassy areas and there seemed to be more vendors, including a few new artist's booths. It's an improvement over the treeless parking lot of the Town Center where they used to convene.

I stocked up on farm-fresh veggies and fruits including corn. The sunflowers in particular were irresistible--splurging on these three and a stalk of peach-colored lilies, I set up this still-life in the dining room. The red background happens to be a wonderful scarf one of my nieces gave me a few years back, set against my company blue tablecloth.

The painting may be too bold a juxtaposition of colors, too fauvist (I need to start collecting cloths of interesting colors for backdrops, at the moment my stock is very limited), and I may knock back part of the background to a darker, more subdued shade later on. For now I'm enjoying experimenting with wild color, just to see what happens. Is the effect too disturbing, or just exciting enough?

Basignani's Vineyards

Basignani Vineyards, oils on canvas panel, 11" x 14." Contact artist for price.

I signed up for the Falls Road Plein Air sponsored by MAPAPA and St. Paul's Schools in suburban Baltimore. The designated painting locations lie along the Falls Road Scenic Byway, an area I am not too familiar with, so I thought to explore it this weekend. Friday was too muggy to make being outdoors bearable, but Saturday, although just as hot, seemed a little less humid--I loaded up my gear and set out in search of a good spot to paint.

There weren't many places to pull off along the road, but just as I was reaching the end of the designated limits, I saw a sign for Basignani Vineyards. I turned into the driveway and followed it up a hill where there was a house surrounded by several out-buildings. One of them was the winery and tasting room. Beyond one could see neatly laid out rows of vines rising over a hill where there were some trees for welcome shade. I walked up to check out the view and yes, it had the makings of a nice composition. There were only three other cars in the lot but no one immediately visible, so I went into the tasting room to ask permission to paint in the vineyards, which the owner granted.

I set up under the shade of a cherry tree--there was a bit of breeze but at four o'clock it was still quite hot. The sky became overcast--I thought I heard the distant rumble of thunder--would I get rained out again? I wasn't going to stop painting unless it became really threatening. After about an hour the clouds passed and the sun came out again. The effects of the light became more interesting as the shadows lengthened, and all that was necessary was to shift their lines in the composition to cover more of the foreground and the rows of vines.

The afternoon brought back pleasant memories of the vineyards on the shores of Lake Balaton in Hungary, where four years before I had spent a month as artist-in-residence. These grapevines were not as manicured as those in the vineyards of Provence, where vineyards are small family plots, but a real working vineyard in a surprising spot: Baltimore!

Blue Hydrangeas

Blue Hydrangeas: Homage to Margaret, oils on canvas panel, 12" x 9." Contact artist for price.

Last Sunday was the Fourth of July, and much too hot to be outside for any length of time. I wanted to paint a still life with a red-white-and-blue theme, but all I had on hand were the last of these blue hydrangeas from my garden: a lace-cap variety with deep blue flowers surrounding the foamy centers and an ever-blooming type with the classic light blue clusters.

Blue hydrangeas always bring to mind my mother-in-law Margaret--she used to have many bushes of this variety growing all around the shady yard of her house in DC. These hydrangea flowers vary in color from pink, deep purple to light-blue depending on the PH of the soil--the more acid the soil the bluer. Hers, growing under a blanket of leaves from the huge oak trees, were a lovely shade of sky-blue. She liked to cut the flowers to display in this graceful robin's-egg blue vase, where they made one feel cool in the wilting summer heat.

The yellow tablecloth, brought back from one of my trips in Provence, made a great backdrop for the flowers and vase--the colors just sizzle!

Summer Heat

Summer Heat, oils on canvas panel, 11" x 14." Contact artist for price.

We got a short break from the heat last week--all of a sudden the air cleared, and the temperatures and humidity dropped to more pleasant levels. On Saturday morning when I went out, the temperature was beginning to rise again. I decided on Brookside Gardens once more--there in the shady path behind the pond I could paint the same gazebo on the island from a different angle.

At this time of the year, the crape-myrtle with its rose-pink blossoms contrasts nicely with a purple beech and the vegetation in a wide range of greens. I started painting at eleven in the morning and finished around two-- you can almost feel the heat of high noon in this piece.

Fay's Bloomers

Fay's Bloomers, oils on canvas panel, 14" x 11." Contact artist for price.

MAPAPA had announced an invitation to paint during an open house at a private garden in Davidsonville. As a garden lover, this seemed like a wonderful opportunity to me, but the day promised to be another scorcher--better get an early start. There were a few people set up in the driveway when I got there and buckets of tagged plants lined up. I gathered they were volunteers to help with plant sales, and  introduced myself as a MAPAPA member coming to paint.

Fay's Bloomers is designated as a display garden for the American Hemerocallis Society. The garden covers about 1.4 acres and is beautifully landscaped with hundreds of day-lilies of every imaginable variety and color, as well as many other unusual ornamental perennials. Well-placed statues of maidens made nice focal points for the flower beds, with whimsical ornaments like elves, iridescent birdbaths, and garden balls tucked in here and there for fun.

With so much beauty all around it was hard to choose what to paint. Eventually I found a shady spot on one side of the lot where the woods behind made a good backdrop for the riot of color in the flower beds. I wanted to give a sense of the expanse of the garden, so I exaggerated the rise of the slope a bit to make it more dramatic. The painting was finished around noon; I took it back to the car and got my lunch and another bottle of water out. It must have been over a hundred degrees inside the car parked in the sun--both were very warm.

I ate my lunch under an unusual Japanese maple shading the patio--was it "Palmatum Beni Kawa"?-- I forget. Fay and two other volunteers were sitting there and we chatted in between their attentions to the customers.

The heat and humidity were increasing but I wanted to make the most of this lovely garden, so I opted to stay for a second painting in the afternoon. I wanted to focus on just a few flowers, to treat them as a still life. I walked around looking for a variety that appealed to me the most and settled on 'Tom Wise'--one of the gentlemen there told me this was a relatively old variety hybridized in the 1980's.

'Tom Wise' Close Up, oils on canvas panel, 9" x 12." Contact artist for price.

Its deep scarlet red overlaid with orange-yellow offered a wonderful opportunity to use my cadmium colors almost straight from the tube--but the plant was in a spot in the merciless sun. I worked as fast as I could, taking frequent breaks in the shade to cool off--the heat was unbearable--and managed to last long enough to come up with this. I left the garden around five, completely exhausted but happy with my day's work.

Old Crownsville Farm

Old Crownsville Farm, oils on canvas panel, 9" x 12." Contact artist for price.

For our last class of the session we met at the same farm in Crownsville as the week before. It was a gorgeous June day: not too hot nor humid. We walked around for a bit, once again discussing the finer points of site selection for composition.

Sometimes as artists we can re-arrange the landscape a bit to improve a composition, such as moving a tree from one side to another, raising or lowering the horizon line, or re-arranging the line of a road or hill. But there are views and angles, no matter how interesting, that present problems too difficult for the painter to solve. These are best left alone--the artist can only invent so much, but when we get too far away from what our eyes can verify, our inventions fail to convince.

We picked this particular view because it has all of the elements for a great composition: a nice curving road to lead the eye into the painting, old ramshackle outbuildings in the foreground for a focal point, trees in the middle ground and a bit of distance in the background. We emphasized the distance by exaggerating the color differences between the rear plane and the middle ground, pushing the colors to the violet-blue spectrum.

Fun with Cuban Zombies

Cuban Zombies (Clockwise from upper left): Zombie Raul, Zombie Che SOLD, Zombie Fidel, Zombie Dalia, Zombie Mariela. Five 3" x 2" oil paintings for sale at The Soundry, $75 each, or $250 for all five.

I signed up to create five tiny 3" x 2" oil paintings for the "Baby Canvases II" show at The Soundry because the idea seemed like a lot of fun (I'd done a similar project for Art House last year, the Canvas Project. and everyone loved my Zombie--it was selected for an exhibit at the Atlanta Airport).

That is how I came across The Soundry. It's a really cool new concept in independent artist spaces--a combination coffee shop/internet cafe/performance/artist studios/co-op gallery space that promises to start a new trend and put Vienna, VA on the DC art map.

Cuba has been in the news recently because of the death of one of the political prisoners on a hunger strike and the subsequent escalation of repression against their relatives, the Ladies in White, so it seemed timely to make a little fun of the old dictator and his entourage. If there's one thing evil can't stand it's being laughed at.

I turned each of these characters into movie-style zombies: a senile Fidel Castro maniacally poking his finger in the air--his brother Raul mimicking him; a woozy Che Guevara pointing his gun at you. The female contingent was represented by Fidel's current wife Dalia, an elderly fashion maven trying to look still beautiful, and Raul's daughter Mariela, who has been assigned the role of advocate for tolerance towards homosexuals (in a traditionally homophobic machista Revolution!) holding something that might be a bloody microphone, or is it a penis?

If you live in the DC area, go out to the Soundry, enjoy the show, and scoop these great original miniature paintings at a bargain price. The opening is next Saturday night June 26 from 7 to 10 PM. If the five little pieces don't sell there, they will auctioned off here on this blog at the end of the show in July. If they do sell but you'd like to have some Cuban zombies of your very own, I will be happy to produce a similar version of any or all of the zombies for you--just Email your request and contact information.

Chapmans Paint Out

The Potomac from Chapman's Forest, oils on canvas panel, 11" x 14." Contact artist for price.

Last Sunday there was a MAPAPA-organized paint out at Chapman's Forest. Naturally, I wanted to be part of it, so I arranged to spend the weekend with my friend Patrise in Acokeek. I wanted to paint in Piscataway Park on Saturday afternoon, but it was so hot, I put it off until late afternoon, when the shadows started lengthening. I knew just the view I wanted: the small inlet at the mouth of the creek with a strip of trees framing the distant banks on the other side of the Potomac. The short walk to the bridge across the creek, dragging my equipment in that heat exhausted me, but the light was inspiring.

A small group of fishermen appeared up just as I was setting up. The clouds in front of me were a light peach color in the late afternoon as I was laying down the sky in my painting, while behind me, deep gray clouds were moving in. I had the hazy banks blocked in and started on the water. One fisherman leaving passed me, but the rest stayed put. I was beginning to hear the low rumble of distant thunder in the clouds... perhaps the storm would pass us by? I held off packing, but soon, the other fishermen started to pack up and I had to admit the deluge was about to overtake us. I knocked down my gear as fast as I could, barely cleaning my brushes in my rush to leave. I picked up my stuff and took off running; it started to pour as I ran down the path. The trees there are so thick they protected me from the downpour until I reached my car, where I got drenched getting my gear back in the trunk.

I changed into some dry clothes back at the house. In the evening we made a lovely dinner with some baby back ribs I'd brought; several of Patrise's neighborhood friends joined us for a potluck dinner.

Next morning we got a late start--it was already too hot for Patrise to join the paint-out (as a Michigan native she's not well-adapted to our muggy summers) so she led me there, to take her dogs for a walk. I dressed in my coolest linen & cotton painting duds, but by the time we arrived at eleven AM, the heat was already oppressive. It took me two trips to bring all my things to the house (I included a chair so I could sit comfortably while painting). There was only one logical place to set up in that heat: the back porch of Mont Aventine, where the view is fabulous.

The organizer, Barbara, and three other ladies were there. Their paintings were already quite far along, so they must have been there for a couple of hours. I started mine, trying the composition devices I'd found useful for this particular view, but had not covered all of my panel yet when Barbara asked us to break for lunch and a critique. She and the others had finished their paintings, (in fact one lady working in pastels had done two) and she and one lady left after that. I struggled with my colors all afternoon, trying to convey the atmosphere of the hazy, humid day, and chatted with some of the volunteers. I finished around four and packed up. On the second trip walking back to my car I saw my teacher, Lee Boynton, coming down the drive with his kit. He had told me he was interested in painting here, but wouldn't be able to get there until late in the day. As it was, he seemed to be arriving just in time for another afternoon downpour--the skies were darkening. He was painting furiously when I left.

On the way back to Accokeek, I drove through a bit of light rain--the tail end of a shower that seemed to be centered over Fort Washington--it cleared up quickly. I showed Patrise my day's work, packed up and said my goodbyes to start back home for our usual Sunday dinner with David. I drove home in the most beautiful light, wishing I could have stayed to paint at Chapman's until then. I can't wait for our Friday morning class to see how Lee's painting turned out.

Funky Barns

Funky Barns, oils on canvas panel, 11" x 14."

Last Friday our plein air class met at a farm belonging to one of the students. There we found these wonderful old barns with sagging roofs and tumble-down pillars, old barrels and feed carts. The complex form of this group of buildings was the perfect challenge for the class at this point. It forced us to draw accurately in perspective and think of how to articulate the forms with color.

The weather couldn't have been better--a lovely June morning, not too hot nor humid. The space for us was a bit tight as the view was contained between other out buildings, but I managed to snag a corner where I was fairly certain the shade would last until around noon. We expect to return next week for the last class of the session.

Strange Flowers and Nocturnal Sightings

Photo by Herb Borkland

Yesterday afternoon, walking back to the house from the mailbox, I happened to see this strange organism in one of my flowerbeds. What on earth? It appeared to be the fruiting body of some fungus growing on the bark mulch, so I googled "orange-red fungus" and came up with the stinkhorn family. I'd never seen nor heard of these before, but evidently they are common in many parts of the globe and they are weird-looking, some might even say disgusting.

The most likely species I would say are either Clathrus columnatus or Mutinus caninus. According to the website, the brown slime that covers the tip of the fungus (and smells like rotting meat) attracts flies and insects which eat the slime and thus spread the plant's spores. This specimen was already disintegrating, so it's hard to tell what the original configuration might have been. The pine bark mulch must have carried the spores that grew with the recent rains. I'll have to keep an eye out for more, in hopes of a positive identification.

* * *

A few nights ago, Herb and I were outside sniffing the night air (we like to do this before retiring for the night during the warm weather) and happened to see a red fox high-tailing it up the street on the opposite side. The fox was carrying something in his mouth--a small rodent, a rat perhaps? He heard us talking softly and hesitated a bit as he was crossing under the street light. Herb remarked that the poor creature looked nearly starved, yet here he was taking his prey somewhere... I figured he was taking it back to his brood; fox kits born earlier in the spring would be weaned by now but not old enough to hunt on their own. The fox continued at a pace close to a run and disappeared up the street--our encounter lasted perhaps all of ten seconds.

The Rain Garden at Londontown

Rain Garden at Londontown, oils on canvas panel, 12" x 9." Contact artist for price.

Yesterday promised to be another scorcher, so I was happy our class met at Londontown again. The shady Rain Garden was a lovely cool spot to paint in.

This time we spent a bit more time developing our drawings, actually shading in the values in charcoal on the canvas before going on to the actual painting. This new start was immensely helpful to all of us. When we began to paint, Lee's specific hint to me was to try to use my brushwork more to describe the shapes, rather than relying on just flat strokes. He demonstrated for me, skimming the surface of the paint to suggest leaves and foliage. I like the effect this gives the painting.

I believe I managed to balance the val-hues to good effect: the patches of sunlight on the grass create a nice path to invite the eye into the distance, with a bit of mystery in the shadowy foreground.

Memorial Day Painting

Brookside Pond on Memorial Day, oils on canvas panel, 9" x 12." Contact artist for price.

I'd planned to paint at Brookside Gardens with my friend Susan on Memorial Day. The gardens were beautiful in their late spring finery: the pink roses by the gazebo, a few late azaleas including a bright orange native azalea, probably bakerii species. The gazebo up the hill from where this was painted seemed the perfect location to try the same scene as last weekend, now under very different light.

Susan wasn't there when I drove in, so I just set up my palette and gear, and dashed off a 5" x 7" black and white study, with a horizontal format this time. After about hour, I walked back to the car to get my cell phone and find out what had happened to Susan. She was on the phone the moment I picked it up, wandering about the garden but not finding me, so I directed her toward my gazebo until she spotted me.

I explained to Susan what I had been working on while helping her set up her brand-new French easel, and that I thought a similar value study would be good practice for a budding artist (it's good practice even for experienced painters). I presented her with an identical blank panel and got her started with oil paints. Then I went on to work on my full color painting, telling her about Kevin McPherson's term "val-hue" and the orderly steps one should take from a sketch to a finished painting.

It was around 12:30 by the time I had my color painting blocked in and Susan was done with her B and W study--a good time to break for lunch. We chatted away pleasantly while munching. Of course, by this time the sun was coming around to the side of the gazebo where we were, making the temperature rise dramatically--typical for summer in our area. The humidity was palpable, giving a bluish haze to the distant trees.

It became so hot standing in the sun that I had to move my easel into the gazebo so I could stay in the shade. The light had also changed just enough that I decided to modify some of my colors and shadows to reflect the afternoon light. Meanwhile, Susan opted to practice on another black and white value painting, doing a larger version of her study.

We finished our paintings as the shadows were getting longer--it was almost five--tired, but pleased to have shared a wonderful day of painting on our holiday.

In Londontowne

Londontowne Garden, oils on canvas panel, 11" x 14."

I had been wanting to return to Londontowne to paint in their fabulous gardens overlooking the South River. Today I got my wish--our painting class met there to avoid the commencement weekend traffic in Annapolis.

The day was overcast and after last night's downpour, cooler than recent days-- a welcome change. Our teacher Lee had brought a copy of Kevin MacPherson's book, "Fill Your Paintings with Light & Color" to show us MacPherson's approach to blocking in a painting, which is very similar to Lee's. BTW, I met Kevin MacPherson and his wife in Santa Fe when I was there a number of years ago (he lives near Taos) and he's not only a very nice person, but an excellent teacher and writer. I treasure two of his books--this one and "Landscape Painting Inside and Out: Capture the Vitality of Outdoor Painting in Your Studio With Oils" (both these books are available from Amazon.com).

Lee prefers to start with the lights rather than darks in his painting, to keep the colors more pure, but also recommends we work on areas that are adjacent until the white of the panel is completely covered. Today we also talked about how to select a site conducive to a good composition and what elements are desirable. We walked around the garden until we'd found a propitious site, so we got started a bit late.

While we worked, the clouds thinned out and a patch of diffuse sunlight illuminated the grassy edge of a flowerbed, providing a nice focal point for our paintings. Most of us stayed late to develop the paintings as much as possible. I'm not sure my colors are convincing or very harmonious here; I don't believe further refinement would improve this one. As it was, I didn't get home until three in the afternoon.

We'll have another chance to paint here again next week. I'll have to remember to bring my camera and a lunch so I can stay later if I want to.