Purple Asters II

Purple Asters II, oils on canvas panel, 9" 12."

 
This is a studio reiteration of a painting I did last fall at Brookside Gardens which sold. After Tim Bell's lecture in Easton this past weekend, I wanted to experiment with his ideas about composition in a studio painting that could be just as effective, if not better, than a plein air one, providing it was properly "designed." I also went back to re-read my Edgar Payne book on Composition of Landscape Painting. Voila!

Easton Paint-Out Plus

Bullitt House, oils on canvas panel, 12" x 9."

Last Saturday was MAPAPA's first paint-out of the season, held in Easton, a charming historic town on Maryland's eastern shore that hosts an annual Plein Air Art Festival. Easton has gained a reputation as one of the best art towns in the country; it's home to many nationally-known artists, the Academy Art Museum, and the Easton Studio and School, our sponsor. It was to be a "paint-out plus"--local artist Tim Bell  would present a lecture at the end of the day and offer an individual critique of the participants' work. The Easton Studio School would serve a Mexican dinner for the artists afterwards.

It was one of those typical east coast spring days--if you don't like the weather, just wait a few minutes... An intermittent drizzle had been falling all during the drive and it was overcast when I arrived. I parked and checked in at the Easton Studio School. I was walking toward the historic district to select my painting site and looking at the map when my foot caught on a curb and I lost my balance--I fell forward but managed to break the fall landing on my knees first, stopping just as my nose touched the pavement--whew! Luckily, I didn't break anything, not even skin. A lady driving by saw me fall and paused, until I signaled her I was all right.

I ran into my friend Roberta Staat and we walked around looking for sites where we could set up under cover. She selected Mason's porch, a lovely restaurant on Harrison Street, and I agreed that seemed like a good spot. We were walking back to our cars to get our gear, when I spotted this view of the back of one of Easton's historic homes, Bullitt House. It was a complex subject architecturally, but the garden framed the view so well, it really called out to me. There was a large cedar by the sidewalk where I could get some shelter from the rain if necessary, so I came back here. It drizzled lightly from time to time as I painted, but I stayed dry under the shelter of the cedar.

By noon I had finished my painting but was chilled to the bone; I thought it wise to warm up at the school while I ate my lunch. I walked back to the car to get my brown bag. By the time I got back to the school, the sun was dazzling out of a ragged blue sky. I gobbled my sandwich and then ran off to pick up my painting at the Adkins Arboretum, a short distance away. I hadn't mentioned here that my painting, Maryland Veldt, won the second place Leon Andrus Award  at the Adkins Arboretum competition "Discovering the Native Landscapes of Maryland's Eastern Shore" this year.

The run to the Arboretum took an hour. By the time I got back to Easton and started out to paint I had less than two and a half hours left, and it was pouring! Being a die-hard, I went out in spite of that but got so soaked within a couple of blocks that I had to take shelter under a porch. I actually set up right there and tried to paint another street scene, but it was so complex there was no point in trying--it would take too long to paint.

The rain had slacked; I walked over the Mason's to set up on their porch. There was a lovely cherry tree in bloom by an outdoor patio, but somehow the view didn't compose well--I forced myself to start anyway. I struggled with it for more than an hour, obviously not getting anywhere, before I gave up--it would have been better to not push myself at this point. I'd have to scrape off the paint when I got home to save the panel for something better. It was almost time for the lecture anyway, so I went back to the school.

Tim Bell's take on the artist's need to distill from nature was quite interesting. He read several memorable quotes from Carlson's book on landscape painting and Edgar Payne's Composition of Outdoor Painting. I was particularly fascinated by his visual comparison of Edgar Payne's paintings and field sketches of the Sierra Nevada with actual photographs of the sites--I had not realized just how much Payne had not only composed the paintings, but how much "atmosphere" he had added to lend that sense of distance and grandeur to the mountains. I took away much from all these experiences, and the delicious dinner was a wonderful way to end the day. Thank you MAPAPA and the Easton Studio School for a great Paint-out Plus!

The Trillium Trail - Two Views

The Trillium Trail, digital photo (color) on archival paper, 16" x 12."

The Trillium Tail, digital photo (black & white) on archival paper, 16" x 12."

I'm offering these two versions of large size digital prints of one of my photos taken on the Trillium Trail at the Thompson Wildlife Management Area in Virginia one spring a few years ago. This site contains the largest known stand of Trillium grandiflora growing in the wild--the flowers range from purest white through shades of link pink to deep cerise, indicating they may have naturally hybridized with other species of Trillium over many years.There are literally millions of them in bloom! Many other wildflowers bloom here in the spring: yellow ladyslipper, Orchis spectabile, several varieties of violets, Lousewort, Squaw root, etc. making the woods seem like one giant flower garden.

Both photos are beautifully printed on heavy archival paper, and are selling for $150 each as is. Please contact me if you are interested in purchasing one.

Three Sisters Spring Pastel

Paddling to Three Sisters Spring, pastel on Wallis paper, 9" x 12." Contact artist for price.

This past weekend I attended MAPAPA's Annual meeting. This year it was held at St. Paul's School in suburban Baltimore. The opportunity to meet with other members was, as always, a treat, and the artists' demonstrations very inspiring. I was particularly fascinated by the work of Maryland pastel artist Lisa Mitchell; her demo made me want to try out some of her techniques as soon as possible.  I worked this small pastel from my photos of the Three Sisters Spring taken during our January vacation.

I blocked in the composition by brushing turpenoid over the pastel for the under-painting, and built up the finished surface with my Sennelier set of soft pastels. Lisa had recommended using a variety of touches to blend colors and sculpt out details. It was fun to try it out. My palette is somewhat limited at this point, as I only have a Rembrandt landscape set (fairly hard pastels) and the soft Sennelier half-sticks to choose from. I would like to acquire a wider range of hues and some suitable trays to carry the pastels out in the field for plein air painting. If any of you know of sales of Unison or Terry Ludwig soft pastels and foam-lined trays, please let me know.

Spring Fever

Yesterday Herb and I got up early to begin spring cleaning in our yard. We had rented a chain saw to cut down some big branches that had broken off during the winter. Mercifully, this year's snowstorms were not as severe and there were fewer branches down than the previous winter, when we spent three weekends cleaning up the yard. We were done in a couple of hours.

In the afternoon the sun came out and the temperature rose--I noticed one crocus flower bud had poked up in my front yard, but all the others seemed to be at least a week away from any bloom. I figured that Brookside Gardens, being closer in town and warmer, is seasonally ahead, so I drove there to scout out painting locations for the coming weeks.

An expanse of mauve crocus flowers greeted me at the entrance by the Visitor's Center. Further up the path, intoxicating scents of Witch Hazel and narcissus wafted from my favorite patch of birches (see last year's posting A Host of Golden Daffodils). It wasn't quite warm enough for painting yet, but there were enough flowers to gladden the heart on this sunny afternoon.

Kayaking Down the Weeki Wachee

Herb with our kayaks at the starting point.

I'd been hoping to be able to post the finished video I had taken of our kayak trip down the Weeki Wachee River this week, but unfortunately I am still editing it, so I thought I'd post some photos of the highlights. It was chilly the morning we drove down to Weeki Wachee, sunny and clear. In fact, the thermometer never made it over 57 degrees that day.

We put out around ten-thirty and agreed to be picked up at two in the afternoon at Rogers Park, the designated pick-up area for the rentals at the state park, seven and a half miles downstream. The starting point is just below the swimming area near Weeki Wachee's headspring, and the water stays crystal-clear for several miles downstream. The flat-bottom tour boat was coming around the bend just as we entered and honked at us to get out of their way.

Drifting downriver.

I got out my camera and started filming while drifting downriver--the six-knot current propels one right along. After a minute or so we reached the first bend, and it was necessary to stop filming so I could maneuver around a small islet in the middle. As I rounded the islet, the flat-bottom boat was heading back, coming straight towards me and blasting its horn like mad for me to get out of the way, which I managed to do in just a nick of time.

Birdsong permeated the thickets along the river, with the occasional sound of a motor from the road beyond or a plane overhead. I kept filming and drifting, and ended up getting tangled in the branches hanging over the river, or running into the banks when I failed to paddle around a turn--the river is all sharp "S" bends in the upper part.

Herb paddling on the Weeki Wachee.

 The river seemed lower than when we'd been there two years before; we found out later there had been a drought last year. There also seemed to be more fallen trees. At one point my kayak got stuck on the branches of a sunken log and I had to dip my arm in the water to push it loose. The water was a pleasant 72 degrees, but as soon as I pulled my arm out, the cold air made my wet sleeve feel really frigid.

Alligator sunning on the bank.

We saw a good-sized 'gator sunning on the banks, and turtles basking on logs as we made our way down the river. At some point we paddled past the house we had rented two years before and recognized the neighborhood--some of the decks by the river had deteriorated quite a bit since then, and others had been replaced.

Herb way ahead.

A blue heron poses in front of a fake parrot.

Downstream from Dawn Lane the color of the water begins to change subtly as it becomes more brackish--we were now entering the lower tidal zone. A blue heron and a belted kingfisher played tag with us, staying just ahead. There were more houses along the banks on this stretch.

Captain Fred had told us about a place on this part of the river called Hospital Hole--it's a fissure that is 160 feet deep, and divers who attempt it without allowing for decompression time end up in the hospital with the bends. He said once he'd made a bet with a local lad who had no idea just how deep this hole was and thought he could free-dive down to the bottom! Manatees like to congregate around the hole.

Looking for Hospital Hole.

We were looking for Hospital Hole, keeping in mind to bear left to stay on the river (a number of canals go off in this area), when we came across a group of fishermen casting from a large boat. They pulled in their lines to allow us to pass by, and we asked them the whereabouts of the hole. This is it, they said, you're directly over it--one could see the color of the water was different here, a deep sea blue-green. There were schools of large fish swimming around, and then I spotted a manatee cow and her calf coming up for air. I grabbed my camera and noticed there were drops of water on the lens--oh-oh!

Herb and I circled around the hole a few times while I filmed. There seemed to be a pod of about a dozen manatees, with at least three babies. Some of my footage came out blurry from the condensation on the lens, but I managed to get two of the mothers with their calves. One pair came so close to my kayak I could have reached down and touched them, and then the baby turned to look up at me--so cool!

Hospital Hole was very close to the end of the run, and soon we were at Rogers Park pulling up our kayaks on the ramp--we didn't have to wait long to be picked up.

Elena kayaking into Rogers Park.

More Crystal River Sketches

Windy Day in Crystal River, watercolor, 10" x 14." Contact artist for price.

Here are few more sketches I did in Crystal River during our vacation. The one above is a watercolor looking out from the front of our house done on a very windy morning. The one below, a small oil of the sunset looking out on Kings Bay on an overcast evening. Our location in Crystal River offered so many wonderful views it was hard to decide what to paint next!

Cloudy evening on Kings Bay, oils on canvas panel, 8" x 10."
Contact artist for price.

Crystal River Archeological Park

Crystal River Archeological Park, oils on canvas panel, 11" x 14." Contact artist for price.

I was surprised to learn that Crystal River had an archeological site dating from 14,000 years ago. The Crystal River Archeological Park gives the visitor a fascinating glimpse into these prehistoric settlements. Six burial and ceremonial mounds are found on the 14-acre site at the mouth of the Crystal River, which was occupied until the times of the Spanish conquest.

Armadillo at the Crystal River Archeological Park

On our way into the park we saw another car stopped by the side of the road. Curious, we pulled up to see why these folk were there--and saw an armadillo cross the road--the creature lingered long enough to allow me to take this shot.

The small 1960's-style museum housed an interesting collection of artifacts and exhibits giving a history of the  cultures who successively occupied the site, as well as the early 20-century archeologists who studied it. Motion-controlled stations with recordings around the site provided a nice self-guided tour.

Herb and I walked by the burial mounds and climbed up the large Ceremonial mound (the highest on the site) which had at one time an earthen ramp that had been removed and replaced by stairs. We saw a stone stele with a face carved on it, a rarity among these early cultures.

The large Ceremonial Mound

The Stele

There were many birds and wildlife all around. The place was pervaded by a quiet elegiac atmosphere, to which the Spanish moss waving on the huge trees probably contributed. I resolved to come back another day to paint on site.

Herb at the archeological park

I came back toward the end of our stay and painted the oil above on a very windy and chilly day--sheltered from the wind behind the trunk of a large live oak, it was much warmer here in January than in Maryland.

Slogging on the Chazz

The Chassahowitzka River

I wanted to explore the wilderness around Crystal River. Talking to the volunteers at the Wilderness Refuge one day, a lady suggested we canoe or kayak down the nearby Chassahowitzka River (the "Chazz" for short) to a side creek where there is a place the locals call "The Crack" at the headwaters of the creek.

It was early afternoon when we rented a canoe at the Chassahowitzka Campground at end of the Miss Maggie Road (they included a small hand-drawn map of the area for our benefit). They told us they had no kayaks available on slow weekdays. That proved to be lucky for us, as it allowed us to explore the creeks at low water.

First, we paddled 100 yards upstream to the springs that feed the river. It was hard to tell exactly where Chassahowitzka Spring was--a first magnitude spring. Presumably it was the first deep pool with a strong current we traversed. Further upstream to the left there was a set of "unnamed springs" that the canoe rental guy referred to as Seven Sisters--a series of vents of varying sizes. The water here was crystalline, one to two feet deep, and the pools startlingly blue-green.

One of the Seven Sisters vents.

We turned around at the uppermost vent and started back downstream. Groups of pelicans flew by, some landing on the water near us, others on trees. Further down the river a flock of vultures perched on a dead tree; blue herons and cormorants fished the banks. A fisherman was working his net in the middle of the river. This was the real old Florida!

 As we made our way toward Baird Creek, we encountered a couple on kayaks who entered the creek ahead of us. They had trouble getting by the shallow mouth marked by a small island, but soon they outdistanced us as we labored through the shallows. We met them again not long after--they'd had to turn around when the course became too narrow for their paddles. The canoe allowed more room for maneuvering, so we were able to paddle upstream almost all the way to The Crack.

We paddled through places with currents strong enough to make us work really hard, through a wide, deep blue-green pool (later I learned this was called Blue Springs), and channels so narrow our canoe got wedged between the banks. We kept paddling through beautiful, thick Florida jungle, seeing wading birds. Where was this mysterious Crack? We met a small group of canoers heading downstream and asked them. Their leader said we were very close, but would likely have to walk for the last few hundred yards.

 

Eventually we ran aground--it was time to ditch the canoe. Herb sank knee-deep into black mud as he was trying to pull up the canoe, but managed to not lose his shoes. We persisted and sloshed ankle-deep in the warm, clear water the rest of the way, until we finally came across The Crack.

The Crack was a few feet across by some thirty feet long, and who knows how deep? The bottom couldn't be seen--it cut across a very shallow swimming hole decorated by a fallen palm trunk that had been carved with initials for apparently a number of years. We couldn't linger very long as it was past four then and we had to return the canoe by five. About this time a few insects began to appear--I can just imagine what they must be like in the summer months.

We high-tailed it out of there and back to our canoe. Later Herb said he hadn't had this much fun in a long time--there might be something in swamps after all. I think Swamp Girl (his nickname for me) has made a new convert!

Herb at the Blue Crack

You can see more photos of our Chazz Adventure on Flickr.

Morning Sketches

Crystal River Morning, watercolor study, 6" x 10."

While vacationing at Crystal River I got into a routine of getting up in the morning just as the sun was rising. After opening the curtains of the row of windows giving out onto the lagoon and fixing a cup of my favorite chai tea, I would get out my watercolors to work on a sketch. The windows had a convenient small ledge on which to set my kit, and sitting on a kitchen stool, I worked until Herb was up and ready for breakfast.

Crystal River Morning, watercolor, 10" x 14."

I never tired of seeing the play of the light on the mossy branches of the trees across the lagoon--such incredible colors! From orangey at first light to golden yellow as the sun climbed higher, lilacs in the shade, they were all so harmonious, and so difficult to render! It could take a lifetime to get this Florida landscape just right. I hope I get enough time after I retire there to learn to paint Florida with a small fraction of its natural beauty.

Three Sisters Spring

Three Sisters Spring, oils on canvas panel, 12" x 9." Contact artist for price.

A few days after our swim with the manatees, the 24th Annual Florida Manatee Festival was taking place. On Saturday, the Crystal River National Wildlife Refuge whose headquarters were located a few houses down the street from ours, held an open house at Three Sisters Spring. The land surrounding the spring is part of the wildlife refuge and not accessible to the public, but they were open for a morning as part of the Manatee Festival's activities.

After seeing the springs from underwater, I was really anxious to paint them from above, and this would be my only opportunity. Herb and I got up early that morning so we could be among the first groups to be shuttled by van from a local shopping center to the spring. I brought my Guerilla Painter Box, gear bag and one 9" x 12" panel along with my camera. The refuge volunteers were very kind to allow me to leave my gear at their booth so we could walk around for a bit before I settled in to paint.

Early Morning at Three Sisters Spring.

It was quite chilly--there had been an overnight frost--and mist wafted over the water at the springs, giving a wonderfully mysterious atmosphere. Even at this early hour, snorkelers were already there, and lots of sleeping manatees could be seen in the crystal-clear water.

The Three Sisters Spring area consists of some fifty acres of land around the springs that were saved from development. The purchase took place just last year, and the state of Florida has plans to develop the area as a park with boardwalks and viewing platforms for visitors. The volunteers led us on a guided walk around the spring even though the banks were a bit muddy. We were allowed to explore the rest of the grounds on our own. Herb and I walked over to look at Magnolia Spring, farther downstream on the waterway. Magnolia Spring is in a neighborhood that was developed many years ago and has lovely homes around it--the actual spring was impossible to discern from where we were. Many birds could be seen and heard all about: robins, finches, sparrows, blackbirds, and other birds I couldn't identify.

It was time for me to get started painting. I chose a spot on the side farthest away from the booths and crowds and Herb left me there. Unfortunately, this was the windward side. The Spanish moss swung sideways with each gust of wind. The color of the moss in the dappled shade and the water were very difficult, and as you can see, I didn't manage to get either one right, but I had a great time trying anyway.

By eleven-thirty I was so chilled I packed up and went back to the other side of the springs and took more photos while waiting to get on the shuttle that would take me back.

The springs were now like Grand Central Station--lots of kayakers and snorkelers on the water, crowds on land--poor manatees! They didn't seem to mind much, though. They don't appear to have any fear of humans and in fact, some were quite curious and playful with the snorkelers.

Late morning at Three Sisters Spring

Kayaks entering Three Sisters Spring

If you are ever in the Crystal River area, Three Sisters Spring is not to be missed! More photos here on Flickr.

Swimming with Manatees

Herb and I were taking an exploratory walk around Kings Bay Drive one afternoon when we were greeted by a charming lady with a foreign accent. Pavla turned out to be an artist from Czechoslovakia--her American husband, Captain Fred Reed, is a local dive master, and their business, Art N Diving, offers personalized tours to see the manatees in Crystal River.

We agreed to go out with them late enough in the afternoon so the hordes of swimmers and paddlers at Three Sisters Spring, where the manatees hang out, would have thinned out. A high tide would improve our chances. The day was bright and sunny, but somewhat chilly.

Before starting out, we were made to watch a short video about manatee etiquette: one is not allowed to harass the manatees in any way. Harassment is defined as attempting to feed them or give them water (how one would give water to a manatee I can't imagine--aren't they already in water?), touching or approaching them, unless they approach you, and particularly separating any mother from her calf. No humans are allowed in the areas designated as refuges for the manatees. There are heavy fines and even jail time for anyone caught breaking these rules.

We were outfitted with full wet suits, masks and fins before boarding their boat and at their suggestion, I had brought a disposable underwater camera. The Captain cruised out of the canal behind their house onto to the main canal and then to Kings Bay. Out in the open water, the breeze was even colder--I was glad we'd brought our jackets.

Captain Fred Reed and Pavla

Herb on King's Bay

 The Captain took us around to our lagoon where we could see our rental house from the water, and then behind some islets past the King Spring, which is about 90 feet deep. A number of folks in the area told us the entire bay used to be crystal-clear years ago, but storm surges from hurricanes have made the water murky. There were buoys all around the bay indicating the refuge areas for manatees--no boats of any kind or swimmers are allowed there.

Our house

Crystal River has the largest population of manatees of the warm, spring-fed rivers on Florida's west coast. The manatee population is estimated at some four to five thousand individuals. The manatees swim up Crystal River in early November when the gulf waters start to get cold and stay until late March when the gulf begins to warm up again. The constant 72-degree water of the springs helps them to stay alive during the winter and prosper. We were told last year's record cold weather caused some one thousand manatees to die from cold stress.

After touring Kings Bay we went back towards the main channel and the entry passage to the Three Sisters Spring, which is marked with two posts. There were several manatees visible from the surface swimming lazily in the refuge areas by the banks of the stream as Herb and I entered the water. I got so excited I forgot the camera and the Captain called me back to hand it to me.

The water was pleasantly warm, and with the exception of a couple of kayakers, we had the springs pretty much to ourselves. The entry passage was narrow and we passed several manatees going in. I noted a large manatee tagged with a tracking device attached to his tail--the straps were padded so they would not hurt it and the tracker floated on the surface on a short line. I wondered what the manatee made of that.

Manatee with fish

Herb swims over sleeping manatees

Elena swimming with manatees

There were some thirty to forty manatees gathered at the spring, sound asleep. We were told they come up for air every twenty minutes or so when they sleep, though they must breathe more frequently when they are active. It was so funny to watch them come to the surface to take a breath, and then see them nosedive straight down again. Several baby manatees next to their mothers looked so sweet.  Herb and I swam around taking photos until our film was all used up. By that time our bodies were beginning to feel chilled, and it was time to swim back to the boat. Swimming with manatees is a celestial experience!

You can see more photos of our swim with the manatees in Flickr.

Fishing the Lagoon on Kings Bay

Fishing the Lagoon, oils on canvas panel, 9" x 12." Contact artist for price.

The next morning was cloudy; mist wafted over the warmer water of the lagoon. I opened the curtains and saw a couple fishing on the lagoon. They were on a boat which was unusual to me--the boat seemed to glide with the prow pointing high out of the water and the man stood there working a rudder from the front with one hand while casting with the other. It looked most unstable yet the boat did not tip or shake. The motor idled with no wake.

Both the man and the woman were bundled up this chilly morning. They appeared to be expert casters, their bait skipping on the surface of the water as they reeled in. I wondered what kind of fish they were after. I brought out my pencils and a sketchpad and did some quick sketches as they plied our lagoon. They circled around a couple of times with no luck, and then moved on.

In the afternoon they came by again--by now they had shed their heavy jackets--and repeated the morning's ritual. After they had left, I went out on our dock with my painting gear and set it up to paint this scene, putting in the figures and boat from my sketches and memory.

Vacation in Crystal River

Crystal River Lagoon, watercolor, 10" x 5."

I never had a chance to post a single thing during our vacation--there was no internet connection at our rental house, and a few days later our laptop screen failed, so I am just catching up now with these postings from our vacation in Crystal River in Florida.

Herb and I drove off on the morning of Friday January the 14th and made good time on the road, but we didn't make it to Amelia Island where we had hoped to spend the night with friends. We had dinner in Savannah at a nice restaurant--the Sapphire Grill, and then found a hotel on the outskirts of the city off I-95. The next morning was pleasant--the frost that formed on the car overnight began to melt at about the time we got back on the road. The temperature rose to the 50's as we continued south.

We skipped lunch but stopped just outside Gainesville at a colorful fruit stand and bought some yummy-looking pomelos and Honeybell oranges to take to our rental house. We arrived in Crystal River in the late afternoon and managed to open the lock box as instructed, unloaded the car and went back out to find some groceries before settling in.

The house was not quite what I had expected--the view of the lagoon was wonderful but there were many houses around it, that illusion of wilderness I had hoped for was lacking. There was no back yard to speak of, only a somewhat deteriorated dock about 8' wide which faced north and got no sun at this time of the year. I had hoped to have a sunny spot where I could sit outside to paint, but since it was quite chilly at the time, that didn't seem very likely--maybe in a few days if it warmed up.

Spanish Moss, watercolor, 10" x 6."

The next morning I settled for painting from inside looking out the windows (it was really cold and windy). The first one is a small watercolor sketch of the view across the lagoon focusing on tiny section that looks wild. In the afternoon I tried another one, this time of the Spanish moss on the live oaks in front of the house. As the sun was going down I started to be tormented by no-see-ums or some other biting insect and realized I had forgotten to bring insect repellent, so I had to rush through this one to finish it. Anyway, here they are, for what they're worth.

Recycling Your Art

Recycling old paintings

When inspiration flags during the post-holiday blahs, a good chore to undertake is recycling old paintings. I gathered up all those old paintings that weren't too successful to begin with, and sanded them with rough sandpaper to smooth down any built-up paint. I then gave 'em two coats of acrylic gesso and presto! New panels for new paintings.

I'm really looking forward to our vacation in Florida. We'll start the drive down next Friday morning, spend one night on the road, to arrive in Crystal River the next afternoon. I am hoping the weather will be nice and allow for plenty of outdoor painting for those two weeks. One feels so cooped up in the winter in northern latitudes, even in mild areas like our Mid-Atlantic, tempered by the Chesapeake Bay and its rivers. A short mid-winter respite in warm weather can help one revive.

New Look for a New Year

On a New Year's Eve walk with my friends.

I've never liked those end-of-the-year/new-year's lists; in fact, I find them unutterably depressing! To most of us over a certain age, the turning of the year ends up being just another day we struggle to make memorable just because it IS a New Year, and after all, we need some milestones to mark the passage of time.

We start off each January full of hope and resolutions which gradually lose momentum until they are tossed aside with a twinge of guilt--the flesh is weak, we rationalize, or the time wasn't right--somehow nature conspired against the change. If we're lucky, on rare years, we manage to keep one or two of those resolutions that end up changing our lives irrevocably, and look back at those with wonder and gratitude.

The past year has been an eventful one, though not always in the ways one had envisioned--rightly so--what would life be without some surprises? Sometimes one small change starts a chain reaction that sets a number of things in motion, like a loose stone setting off an avalanche. A car accident in September forced me to replace my twelve-year old car with a newer one, which in turn encouraged me to replace my ancient cell phone; the breaking down of an old TV prodded us into upgrading to a new flat-screen and Blu-Ray. A new job offer much closer to home was a daunting but welcome change in the last three weeks of the year. I'll miss having my Fridays off, as well as the week between Christmas and New Year's, but it's still a good trade-off for the 75-mile-a-day commute.

To ring out the old year, yesterday I went down to southern Maryland to visit my friends in Accokeek. I'd hoped that perhaps it might be possible to paint outdoors, since the temperature has been rising to the mid-forties in the past few days. I really wanted a new painting to post. But the wan winter sun was not warm enough for comfort, so instead we settled for taking a walk along the Potomac River by Colonial Farm.

The ice was still fairly solid over the beaver pond along the road, and there were big chunks at the river's edge. The grasses in the swamp below the boardwalk were studded with lovely pools of snow and ice. Watching the ice floes in the middle of the river floating upstream lent the scene a surreal air--it took a few seconds to realize the effect was caused by the incoming tide. Mount Vernon was clearly visible on the opposite bank. Walking back toward the farm, it was feeding time for the animals. Colonial Farm raises what they call heirloom breeds, and I managed to take a couple of shots of their enormous Red Devon bull and one of the Ossabaw pigs before my camera battery ran down.

I learn a lot from my friends (and try to share what I know). Back at the house we talked about our art projects, blogs, photos and plans while enjoying some wine by the fire, and I realized I had never made use of Flickr to share photos with friends or readers of my blog. So today, to follow my resolution to try to become more tech-savvy and better integrate all the tech toys at our disposal, I have uploaded my photos from our walk onto Flickr in this set: New Year's Eve Walk. While I was at it, I gave the Maza Studio blog a new look for the new year. Hope you like them both. Your comments would be appreciated--please feel free.

Happy New Year!