Saturday, March 13, 2021

Early Spring Flowers

 

Crocus thommasinianus

Crocus tommasinianus in two colors.


The recent warm weather is gradually ushering spring in, and more crocuses are blooming in my front yard. A couple of dry weeks after some good rains, the clayey earth in my garden has now attained the perfect consistency for being worked, so I'm hard at labor on my bed expansions and soil improvements. I can't help noticing new shoots coming up everywhere!

 

Feathered mauve crocuses

Witch hazel 'Diane'

My witch hazel 'Diane,' planted last year, has put out its first blooms and they are lovely--it certainly lived up to my expectations! It should be even better in a few years as it develops into a small tree. When it reaches above deer browsing height I'll remove the protective netting which obscures it now.


'February Gold' daffodils


The 'February Gold' daffodils that I separated and re-planted in the front yard last fall are starting to bloom. The display is a bit skimpy now, but it will become fuller in the coming years as the bulbs grow and fill in the space.


Bearss lime


Indoors, my Bearss lime tree has been very prolific--this is one of six limes harvested since I brought it inside last fall, with one more lime left and lots of new blossoms setting fruit. My hand pollination efforts on the Australian red lime seem to have been successful, and a few limes are starting to develop. They are only about 3/4" long right now, but hopefully, they'll reach edible size by summer, when I take it outdoors.


Australian red lime

A new crop of blossoms should develop then. I'm curious to see whether any bees will pollinate the blossoms--I don't recall any fruit setting last year when it bloomed outside, but then again it was a very hot and dry summer and it was the first set of blooms. It's possible a specialized pollinator simply doesn't exist in the USA, because it's a native of Australia, though small bees should be able to pollinate the flowers.

Wednesday, March 3, 2021

Two Lagoas

Two lagoas, pastel on panel, 9"h x 12"w.

 

 While revisiting the photos from a my Artist in Residence stay on the island of Flores in the Azores back in 2007, I came across one taken at the highest point of the volcanic spine of the island. The view from the miradouro overlooks two of the crater lakes found on the Morro Alto zone: Lagoa or Caldeira Negra on the left, and Lagoa Comprida on the right. In the distance one can see the hollows of two more craters: Lagoa Seca on the right, which is a dry caldera, and Lagoa Branca towards the left.

My stay on the island of Flores was memorable for many reasons, but mostly because of the magical quality of the landscape. The westernmost island of the Azores group, Flores lies on the American tectonic plate, as opposed to the rest of the archipelago on the European plate, and is quite isolated. I joked with the locals that with tectonic drift, in another million years or so, they might be our closest neighbors.

Flores has a total of seven calderas, all filled with water except for one. Each of them is unique, with vertiginous slopes and unusual vegetation. Only a bit of the endemic vegetation remains in the highest part of the island, known as the Morro Alto: sedges, ferns, mosses, and wind-sculpted native junipers. Most of the plants growing throughout Flores are imports from distant parts of the globe, brought by the ships that stopped here on their voyages around the world. With the very wet temperate climate of the north Atlantic, most of those plants have taken hold and propagated well beyond expectations. 

But in this highest part of the island where these two crater lakes are located, the landscape is still wild, as were the winds on the day I stopped here. Much as I wanted to stay to paint on location, the penetrating winds and cold made it very uncomfortable, so I settled for taking the photos.

The weather on Flores is very changeable, and even as I walked by the crates lakes, the clouds covered and uncovered the sun, creating unusual and lovely light effects. I wished I could return once more... doing this painting allowed me to project myself back to Flores again through the magic of imagination.

* * *

The pastel is on a Richeson premium pastel Gator board panel, a surface that is rapidly becoming my favorite, since it holds so much pastel powder. I toned the original cool gray color with a reddish-brown underpainting laid down with pastels and Turpenoid. After that dried, I started the painting, gradually building up the layers of color.



Friday, February 26, 2021

The First Crocus


 

The first crocus of spring is a long-awaited sight, signaling the end of winter and the beginnings of early spring. This year it took place on February 24, when the temperature rose into the 60's on a sunny day. The snow and ice on the ground had begun to melt the day before, and the watering sent these lovely buds up. Others soon followed.



I'd planted some mixed crocuses under my cherry tree some years ago, but hadn't seen any these yellow ones for the last few years, so it was a surprise to find several of this feathered yellow variety sprouting, along with one lone white one. I believe the yellow ones are of the species Crocus chrythansus 'Fuscotinctus.'


Several varieties of crocus in front yard.

Crocus tommasinianus , nicknamed "Tommies," is the one species that has multiplied most prolifically in my front yard. I'd read that rodents and other pests tend to stay away from this species, and with so many voracious wild creatures around here, it has lived up to its reputation, proving to be quite resistant. Every year the display gets better.


Crocus tommasinianus

C. tommasinianus growing with red thyme (Thymus coccinea)

Other early spring bulbs are starting to wake up, and soon my garden will once again be filled with flowers... I can't wait to see what the display will be like this year!



Monday, February 15, 2021

Continental Divide


Continental Divide, pastel on sanded panel, 9"h x 12".


On these cold, gray days of winter I long for warmer climes and sunnier days... but thankfully, in my studio and imagination I can revisit other summer days of yore. I was perusing some photos of my visit to Glacier National Park several years ago and found one I really wanted to use for a painting--it was taken some miles east of the continental divide driving on the Going-to-the-Sun Road. This side of the park is much drier than the western side, and has the typical vegetation of the northern prairies. These open meadows displayed an incredible assortment of wild flowers at the time of my visit in high summer: blue lupines, wild roses, daisies and blanket flowers, bee balm, flea bane and asters, as well as grasses and pines.

I worked on a Richeson sanded panel made for pastels, and was very impressed with the amount of pigment this surface can hold. I started with a very fauvist under painting in two values of pink and peach hues, burnt sienna and brown, and it took quite a few layers of colors applied on top to cool down the colors underneath. Only a bit of the under painting shows through.

 

Earlier version of the pastel
 

Above is an earlier version of the painting--I was in the process of modifying the composition to add a third tree to the foreground when I happened to drag my sleeve across the entire lower half of the panel, taking off most of the pigment I'd laid down! Well, after lamenting this little disaster for a while, it seemed like a serendipitous call to re-think the entire piece, and modify the val-hues from this earlier step.

Redoubling my efforts, I decided to cool down the foreground more, applying more of the Baryte green more boldly throughout the grasses in the foreground, and blueing the distant mountains more. Articulating the nearer flowers and grasses and blending the patches of color on the closer mountain range also helped to make a better distinction between the closer and farther distance. 

I'm  planning to try out several other pastel surfaces I have in my studio in the coming weeks as the spring equinox slowly wends its way toward the northern hemisphere again.

Monday, February 8, 2021

Snowy Morning

From my studio window.

 

A lovely view greeted me this morning when I looked out from my studio window. Such beauty is so fleeting in our area, I had to take some photos right away. A few hours later, the temperature had risen enough to denude the branches of their snowy decoration, but it was wonderful while it lasted!

 



My climbing rose.


From the front door.


Here is a short video of the birds in my front yard.