Botanica Exhibition

African Violet II, watercolor, 9" x 12."

I was surprised and pleased to learn that my two entries have been accepted to this year's Botanica, the exhibition of artwork presented by students and teachers at Brookside Gardens' School of Botanical Illustration. This year's exhibition will take place from May 19 through July 6 at Brookside Gardens Visitor's Center.

Now I'll have to get my pieces framed (another expense I hadn't planned on!) but I'm used to it --art is an expensive if rewarding mistress.

Spring Green at Jug Bay

Spring Greens at Jug Bay, oils on linen panel, 9" x 12."

Yesterday I had signed up to go on a hike with the Maryland Native Plant Society. This was to be a hike to see the big trees at Jug Bay Wetlands Sanctuary and check their statistics against previous years' records. I was really curious to learn how these big tree statistics are recorded and kept, and which kinds of big trees are found in this natural area.

It was a beautiful spring day, and I was ready to spend some time enjoying the outdoors. The hike was scheduled for the morning, from 10 AM to noon. Since Jug Bay is a long drive from home, I decided to take a sandwich and my plein air kit, intending to stay after the hike and paint in the afternoon.

That turned out to be providential--I was about ten minutes late, and when I arrived at the agreed upon meeting place, I found a hand-written sign saying the hike had been cancelled because no one had signed up. Actually, two of us had. No problem--more time for me to paint. I went to the visitors' center to check out the trails and views.

There is a viewing platform on a bluff behind the visitors' center overlooking the marsh. From there I could see a pair of ospreys fussing over a nest about 50 yards out. The male swooped down and scooped up a fish to take to his lady love who was cleaning out the nest. Looking down I saw a narrow boardwalk by the water and some Pinxter azaleas blooming. I took the trail to the boardwalk to check the view from there and the marsh looked wonderful framed by the azalea blossoms. I saw lots of huge mountain laurel and high-bush blueberry plants down there too. The boardwalk was wee bit narrow, but wide enough for me to set up provided no one else needed to walk by.

I went back to my car, fetched my kit and trundled, heavy-laden, down the steep steps to the boardwalk. It was breezy, but not so windy that my easel was in danger of blowing into the muck. I set up, trying to leave as much room as possible to walk by, but in order for anyone to pass me, I had to move out of the way and ask them to be very careful to not knock my easel into the water. Sure enough, while I was setting up and getting started several groups of hikers, some families with small children, showed up and needed to be let by. I checked my watch as the last group went by--twelve thirty! And I was only half-way done. Lunch could be eaten later, I wanted to finish my little painting before the light changed completely.

Fortunately, the day was becoming more overcast, and the shadows softened. I reoriented my easel to keep the glare off my painting and kept on working. No more hikers came after that. I checked my watch again as I was finishing-- two o'clock. How is it that time goes by so quickly when one is so absorbed? I started to pack up my kit, taking a few photos of myself on location first so you could all see my set-up (Guerrilla painter 9" x 12" box) on the boardwalk.

After packing up I walked down the boardwalk with my gear over to the other end, where I found a convenient bench overlooking the water, and had a late lunch there. I took in the osprey who had settled down on her nest by then, the one azalea bush that overhung the water--I had no idea they grew so close to water--and other interesting plants nearby. I took photos of some of them to identify later, and decided to call it a day. This is the first time I've gone out to paint plein air since our vacation in February, and the first time with oils since last fall. I'll have to try to do this more often now that nice weather is back.

Viola

Viola tricolor, watercolor, 12" x  9."

My latest class opus are these pansies. I bought a flat of six plants at Riverhill, our local garden center, to take to class. In the drawing I merged two plants to show a little of  the range of different colors and markings these hybrids sport. There is also one with ruffled orange flowers, and another all-blue double I may try to record before their season ends. I planted the pansies in the front flower bed after the painting was finished.

Bluebells

A few years back I dug up a new flowerbed under the maple tree in my front yard and planted Virginia bluebells, a Bleeding Heart a fern and some European ginger there. My idea was to have a progression of blooms from early spring through summer, perhaps extending into early fall. The following year I added some crocuses and blue Grape Hyacinths, and some Lamium to extend the blooming season. The plants have been slow to get established because of the maple roots and the compacted soil, but they are finally starting to pay off with a lovely blue and pink color scheme.

This is the first year my bluebells have actually blossomed and I am so pleased to finally enjoy their lovely flowers here at home! I wish I had time to do a botanical illustration of them from life, but life is going at so fast a pace these days, I know I won't get around to it this year. Their growing season is so short, the blossoms will be gone in another ten days, and the plants will disappear by mid-May to lie dormant until next spring.

 I want to do some botanical studies of this native plant, it may yet become part of my Botanical Illustration Certificate project. That would involve digging up at least one of the tubers to illustrate the root structure, but I am not about to do just yet; not until the plants have managed to propagate a bit more.

African Violet Painting

Pink African Violet, watercolor, 8" x 10."

This was my classwork from the Painting 205 class week before last. I was surprised to see how quickly it took shape following the methods I'm being taught, and how nice the results. It needs a few more touches to be completely finished. I'll be submitting this piece and one more from class to Brookside Gardens' upcoming Botanica exhibition to see if the jury accepts it.

Giant Studio Moving Sale

Big Blue, oils on canvas, 36" high x 42" wide.

Firefall, oils on canvas, 48" high x 36" wide.

The Aliens, oils on canvas, 48" high x 32" wide.

Red Sea Whips, oils on canvas, 56" high x 42" wide.

Dear friends and collectors:


My husband and I are getting ready to move and our basement is full of large paintings that I would prefer not to have to move or store, so I'm holding a once-in-a-lifetime studio sale. These four paintings are among many others for sale. All offers will be considered, no matter how ridiculously low. I'm willing to negotiate, but please start at $100--the materials in these cost at least that much. If there is more than one offer per painting, these will be bid competitively, and the bids announced here (bidder's identity will be kept confidential).

If you live in the DC area or within drivable distance, I will be happy to deliver any painting to you whenever convenient. If you are out of the area, I don't know about shipping, that may be more difficult--these are large paintings--but perhaps something can be worked out.

Any of these paintings could be a wonderful focal point in your home. Please make an offer.

Watch this blog for more paintings coming up for sale soon. My Afro-Cuban paintings will be coming up next.

The Cummer Museum of Art Garden

Garden at the Cummer Museum of Art in Jacksonville, watercolor, 10" x 14."

On our last day of vacation, Herb and I went back to the Cummer Museum of Art in Jacksonville so I could paint in the historic garden. We arrived mid-morning and found a group of painters already there. While walking around to take in the gardens and decide which was the best view to paint, I chatted with some of the artists, who told me they were students from the nearby University of North Florida. Their class met at a different location every Friday to paint plein air and the museum's gardens were--quite understandably--a favorite.

Looking at the beautiful gardens on the banks of the St. John River, it was hard to choose what to paint, but to me the most outstanding feature was a gigantic live oak which appeared to be at least a few centuries old. Its venerable trunk had been sculpted by riverfront storms into a striking, contorted mass, and its spreading branches twisted and leaned down so far that some had supports built under them to keep them off the ground. A glass-topped table and some chairs had been placed on the lawn under the tree--there seemed no need to go any farther. I spread out my painting stuff and sat down to study this amazing tree.

It took me a long time to get the drawing right. Simplifying the masses of branches by eliminating some of the extraneous ones while keeping enough of them to give a sense of their size and intricate twining was the most challenging part, and it was well past noon before I was ready to start laying in any color. By this time the breeze had started to pick up and a gust of wind took my tiny metal water tin and brush holder and dumped them on the ground. After that I kept the brush holder on the ground and my spare hand on the water tin.

I felt confident that no one would steal my painting gear at the museum, so I left it on the table while we had lunch at the cafe (dynamite black bean soup and chicken salad) and then came back to finish my painting.

The botanical illustrations classes have helped tremendously with my watercolor technique, and I was able to put down the shapes of the branches and trunk with washes from the start. It's a time-consuming process that requires patience: wetting the paper, waiting for it to have just the right amount of moisture, putting the wash down quickly, manipulating it to get the darks to fade gradually into lighter shades, and so on. Herb was very patient and kept me company reading his book; when he got tired of that, he went into the museum and visited all the other exhibits we'd missed before.

I still wasn't finished when the four o'clock closing time was announced, but I had enough down on paper to be able to finish my painting later. We decided to make our way back to Amelia Island using the route we'd taken on our way in the previous time, but got a bit disoriented on the freeways downtown. Eventually, we found our way back to the scenic route just in time for a sunset along the coast--lovely ending to a wonderful day!

Revisiting The Okefenokee Swamp

Canal Diggers Trail, watercolor, 10" x 14."

On our recent Florida vacation I just had to visit the Okefenokee Swamp again. Our friends told us there had been extensive fires last summer and thousands of acres in the refuge had burned. I wanted to see the extent of the damage.

Fire in the wilderness is a natural phenomena, and as our guide sagely remarked, if it weren't for periodic  fires, the area would become so overgrown it would be known as the Okefenokee Forest, rather than Swamp. In fact, the peat floor was still smoldering in parts of the northwestern section of the refuge.

However, the lovely boardwalk trail that took visitors through the swamp out to an observation tower was gone, so the best way to see the swamp was to get out on the water, on one of the small boats, or stick to a few trails still open near the Visitor's Center such as the Long-leaf Pine and Canal Diggers Trail. We explored this short trail while waiting our turn for the boat ride, and found a narrow bridge crossing a small creek. There was no time to paint it then, but I hoped we could return later for a sketch.

Entering the Okefenokee Swamp

Our tour guide with Okefenokee Adventures, Joey was a seventh-generation Okefenokeer (married to an eighth generation Okefenokeer) and a colorful character. He worked us tourists on the boat with a well-worn routine full of jokes and set pieces while regaling us with interesting facts and bits of swamp lore. I saw an unusual water plant with odd-looking flowers and asked about it. Joey said it was called Golden Club. Later on he picked one flower and chomped the yellow part, saying this was one way to survive in the swamp. The yellow part of the blossom was edible, and he picked more flowers so we could each taste one. It was mildly pungent, like a radish--one would sure have to eat an awful lot of it to get enough nourishment!

Golden Club

The ride was about an hour and a half and took us through so many channels that looked much the same; I wondered how long it would take to learn their intricacies. We were back at the dock before I realized we'd circled back to our starting point. The swamp is beautiful, even the burned-out parts with its charred trunks, though I much prefer to see the cypress alive and dripping with Spanish moss.

Once back, we rushed back to the bridge at Canal Diggers Trail so I could work on a watercolor--we had less than two hours before the park closed, so my sketch is very loose and unfinished. By this time the sun had come out from behind the low clouds and was illuminating the fields of saw palmetto underneath the pines. The best view was from the middle of the bridge, naturally, so I had to stand. As you can see, I propped my sketchbook on the railing of the bridge and hooked the brush holder, expecting the breeze to try to snatch it away.

See more photos of the Okefenokee Swamp on my Flickr Album.