A Host of Golden Daffodils

A Host of Golden Daffodils, oils on canvas panel, 12" x 9." Contact artist for price.

Last week for the first time it was light enough on the way home to see that the steep banks bordering lower Rock Creek Parkway were full of yellow daffodils in bloom. It brought to mind that poem by Wordsworth all of my generation read in high school, "I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud,"

(first stanza):

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.


--William Wordsworth, 1804

(I feel sorry for subsequent generations of students who missed learning the wonderful literary works of the English Romantic poets... so-called "Modern Education" has thus impoverished their lives.)

Today was our finest spring day to date. I remembered there is a small hillside at Brookside Gardens that has daffodils planted among birches and thought it would be delightful to paint there.

The gardens were full of young mothers with their offspring, retirees and neighbors out to enjoy the lovely afternoon. I walked around and took some photos before setting up to paint, in case there was something more appealing, but my first instinct was right, this was the prettiest sight to paint.

The scent of daffodils and the witch-hazels perfumed the warm air as I worked. It felt so good to be outside it was hard to concentrate on the basics of painting. I almost lapsed into common beginner mistakes such as starting to focus on individual flowers too early rather than laying down masses of color first. I managed to pull out of it and balance the colors before getting into the details for a nice finish just as the sun was going down behind the hill.

Primroses for Spring

Red Primrose, oils on canvas panel, 11" x 14."

It was raining this morning as I drove off to class, one of those light drizzles that heralds spring, so long awaited after such a harsh, snowy winter. This was our last class of the winter session; in fact it was a make-up for the class we missed due to the snow. What a pleasant surprise to find flowers in our still-life set-ups along with the usual props!

It was also Lee's daughter Margie's birthday, and her mother had given her a beautiful vase full of yellow daffodils as a present. The bouquet was one of our set-ups and Margie had joined our class so she could paint it. By the time I arrived, all the easels around the daffodils were taken up, so I worked with the other arrangement along with Lee and one other student.

The colors seemed impossible to harmonize--how does one deal with such shocking color juxtapositions or shades of green so close in value? It was a real challenge, and I don't feel I rose to it very successfully. I like the zing of the purple background against the red flowers, but the primrose leaves appear too artificial in color--they're almost the same shade as the ceramic bowl when they should have been closer to the color of the plastic pot. Still, I hope the painting captures a bit of the spirit of spring now happily approaching.

The Blue Bowl

The Blue Bowl, oils on canvas panel, 11" x 14."

I finally had a chance to paint "the blue bowl" as everyone in class refers to this bowl. It has a particularly challenging blue ceramic glaze with patches where the terracotta underneath shows through. Today it was complicated by a towel with pink stripes draped around the bowl in addition to the bottle. Using oranges rather than apples was a master stroke; it sets up some wonderful color harmonies with the towel and backdrop.

I benefitted by having watched Lee and other students paint this bowl in other sessions; I was able to be freer with my color, bolder. The drapery of the towel upped the challenge one more notch. I don't feel my towel was entirely successful--the folds don't read in certain places, but perhaps that is not so important. Overall, the impression of light and the color seems right.

Artists of the past who painted drapery so beautifully, such as Zurbaran, have risen even more in my estimation after this experience with painting folds in cloth.

Lighting and Color

Green Bowl with Bottle in Natural Light, oils on canvas panel, 11" x 14."

During last week's class we painted with natural light only (on an overcast day). Compare it to the painting posted on Feb. 6--this is the same green bowl, red apples and tablecloth (with a different backdrop, which also influences color). The difference in colors from one to the other is quite marked. The natural light is much cooler; the local color is more obvious under natural light, and the shadows are warmer with softer edges.

This useful excercise showing how different objects look under different light is helpful for painting on a "cloudy day" as opposed to a "sunny day." We had done this in last year's class and it proved so enlightening (if you'll pardon the pun), we repeated it. You can see last year's exercises here and here.

Blue Bowl with Bottle, oils on canvas panel, 11" x 14."

Yesterday we were back to painting with studio lighting. This blue bowl is one of my constant challenges--it's robbin's-egg blue seems to defy color rendition, as does the olive-green backdrop. I didn't have time to work any of the reflections from the apples into it, or other subtleties. I think the color modeling of the white pitcher is the most successful part of the painting.

Afternoon of a Fox

Herb told me he'd taken some photos while I was out painting yesterday. I figured he'd seen something unusual in our back yard, but I wasn't ready for this--a red fox taking an afternoon nap! He (or she) must have been really enjoying the warmth of the sun on the tiny patch of bare ground under our cedars.


Today at about the same time, another red fox came by and lay for a while in the same patch of ground. If you look closely you'll see that this fox has a small notch on the left ear (yesterday's fox didn't) so it's clearly a different individual. I figure they must be mates, since they seem to share the same turf, but which is the male and which the female?

A few years ago on a summer morning we were privileged to see a lovely family group: one red fox was followed by an adult female with her two kits.

Winter Plein Air

Covered Bridge at Loy's Station, oils on canvas panel, 11" x 14."

Yesterday I went out with my teacher, Lee Boynton, and another student, for a winter plein air workshop. It's so rare to have this much snow on the ground for this long in Maryland, it was a great opportunity to paint winter scenes on location. Temperatures were in the low forties (milder than they've been for weeks), but even so, one must dress for the exposure. Padded with thermal undies and layers of Polartec, this time I wore special insulating inner soles and took my gardening gloves to slide under the old paint-stained gloves, and these kept my hands and feet warmer.

In the morning we painted the covered bridge at Loy's station park. This is one of three surviving historic covered bridges in Frederick county--the largest and most traveled. I got there a bit late under an overcast sky. Lee and Maggie were already set up on top of some packed snow and they tamped down a space for me.

The light was very subdued and I had a hard time toning down the red of the bridge to match the light. Lee helped me considerably to achieve the resulting painting. In retrospect, I would have done better to make the bridge smaller and allow more space around it, particularly the road leading up to it. As it is, the bridge dominates the painting too much.

It was one-thirty by the time we stopped for lunch in nearby Thurmont. The Cozy Restaurant was packed--in order to avoid a long wait, we opted for the steam-table buffet to allow time for another painting before dark.

I had told Lee about another of the covered bridges on Roddy Road. We headed there after lunch, but the parking lot at the tiny park had not been cleared. We walked all around the bridge and in deep banks of snow looking for a nice view with some water, but the compositions were awkward and much too similar to the morning's painting, so Lee led us to another site a bit farther south, Utica Park, where there were some old buildings with the Catoctin Mountains in the background.

House on Utica Park, oils on panel, 12" x 16."

By this time the sun was bright and casting beautiful shadows on the snow. The park was deserted so we were able to set our easels on the paved road instead of the snow. Maggie slipped on a muddy patch while setting up, and attempting to help her recover her gear, Lee also slid. They were both truly hearty to stick around to paint with wet & muddy trousers. They both did wonderful paintings while I struggled with this one. The composition here is better overall, but a bit pedestrian. I hate to make excuses for myself, but my tiring weekly commute and long work hours seem to be taking a toll on inspiration.

The park ranger drove by to tell us the gate would be closed at sundown, so we packed up and left just as the sun was setting. I was so tired I could barely drive myself home, and sniffles were setting in. When I got home, Herb had a very nice suprise for me--take a look at the photos in the next posting.

A Second Anniversary Gift

With the stress of two record-setting snowfalls in one week, I had forgotten that yesterday, Saint Valentine's Day, marked the second anniversary of the Maza Studio blog.

Mother Nature sent a special gift--a beautiful group of five to six bluebirds, a pair of which I managed to photograph here, perched in my back yard. If it's true that bluebirds are a symbol of happiness, then my cup runs over.

Our ice palace is decorated with giant icicles--here is a huge one by the door to the deck, and some by the garage sparkling in the sun.

As I begin my third year of blogging about painting and nature, I hope to bring all of you, my readers, as much inspiration and happiness as possible.

After the Blizzard

After the Blizzard, oils on canvas panel, 11" x 14," $200 unframed.

When the first rays of the sun appeared Thursday morning after the blizzard, they revealed this enchanting sight in my back yard. The sun sparkled on the ice crystals while the trees cast long fingers of blue across the snowy expanse. I took some photos for reference, since I knew the shadows would not last long enough for me to get my palette loaded and ready for painting.

Painting would have to wait until after I had helped Herb dig out the driveway (again!) and put in a bit of time telecommuting. By that time the lovely mounds of snow weighing down the trees would likely be gone. In fact, sometime during the morning, two big branches of one the cedar trees in the back snapped and crashed down, as did most of the juniper's by the front porch. I wish I'd thought to shake the limbs free of snow before they broke, but I had been reluctant to go out in the thigh-deep snow. Now we'll have a lot of trimming to do come spring, and our porch looks so naked!

Our Friday morning painting class was cancelled because the parking lot had not been plowed yet (the schools were closed too), so today I had the opportunity to paint this scene with the help of my photos. I painted from the dining room window where I'd left my easel. It's the same view painted the previous Saturday while it was snowing. The difference in the colors due to the lighting makes for an interesting comparison between the two paintings.