What I See

2012-02-13T23:14:00.000-08:00

This is probably the best known thing that I live close to. I think the Rose Bowl was named for the Rose Parade, because there are no roses around the Rose Bowl. There are palm trees and eucalyptus. The stadium is home to a New Year's Day college football game. It is UCLA's home field. Things besides college football happen there too. I saw a World Cup game in 1994. There are concerts. July 4th fireworks. High school graduations. There is a huge flea market the second Sunday of each month. This was painted the day before the flea market, so it's all decked out with its signs and banners. There's a bit of remodeling going on; you can see a crane.

I'm not too mad for this. It's a busy painting. There's an awful lot going on. I really think I like the gloomy sky best. Although I did intentionally spatter a bit of bright paint on it to kind of add to the festive chaotic feel.

House Painting

2012-02-04T18:46:00.000-08:00

It has been a few weeks since I went out and painted. I went to paint last week, but I ended up just walking around and taking photographs of things I might paint. Momentum is important; it is the key to many things.

This was painted at Heritage Square Museum in Northeast Los Angeles. In the 1960s, when construction was booming in Los Angeles, a city commission and a foundation got some land and saved some houses. I think of Heritage Square as a retirement home for houses. Nobody lives in the houses. They are arrayed in a landscape where nobody drives and everything is old. It's peaceful, except a lot of chickens have established a home there and there is some crowing. There are also children chasing the chickens because their parents brought them for a little culture, and they are bored silly. I wasn't bored. I was happy as could be quietly painting as chickens and children ran around me.

Hills of Home

2012-01-15T00:33:00.000-08:00

My home state of California has many wonderful natural sights. There are hundreds of miles of coastline, the rugged and majestic Sierra Nevada, the Mojave Desert, and the Yosemite Valley. As I drive from the south of California to the north, it is often through these rolling patchwork hills dotted with oak trees. The hills are green during a brief rainy season, then turn to golden through the summer, drying out first on their sunny faces. It's always these hills beyond the urban sprawl (for now) that cause me to think how beautiful California is.

Other People's Flowers

2012-01-09T23:52:00.000-08:00

It isn't that I could ever possibly grow bored with the flowers in my garden. But after a while the photographs start to look terribly familiar. The reasonable solution is simply to plant more new and different flowers (while continuing to water and treasure the old.) Instead, or perhaps as a prelude, I walked around my neighborhood and photographed other people's flowers.

Forget-me-nots - completely charming little blue flowers

A fantastically strange cactus plant.

Oxalis, also known as wood sorrel, not buttercups

Spring snowflake, I just learned, and now you know too

Bearded iris. It's definitely in my plans to plant some of these.
Have a look at Macro Monday, courtesy of Lisa's Chaos at lisaschaos.com/macro-monday-dewey-web

Another Landmark

2012-01-07T15:53:00.000-08:00

First of all, happy New Year. There's no particularly good explanation for my protracted absence from blogging, and I'm not feeling quite clever enough to invent one. I also took a short hiatus from weekly plein air painting and from work, and the fragile structure that defines my life crumbled. Not in a bad way. I slept in and ate sweets and the time got away from me.

I painted at St. Luke's hospital. I could have been born there. Most of my elementary school classmates were. Instead I was born at Hollywood Presbyterian Hospital because my parents lived in the Hollywood Hills until I was three. My children weren't born there either, and now St. Luke's is shuttered and nobody is being born there. I'm not sure what the present plans are for this wonderful property. There was a bit of landscape maintenance going on in the parking lot, and the City was storing some Rose Parade litter.

This morning was extremely foggy when I started painting and less so when I finished. As a result the painting is somewhat schizophrenic - hazy and muted in some parts and bright and contrasty in others. You may not have noticed that. You may have only realized that there was something wrong with the painting. Well, no matter. I spent a nice morning outdoors and I'm back at it.

Sky About To Rain

2011-12-17T17:06:00.001-08:00

Even if you've just driven through Pasadena, you've probably seen this - St. Andrew Church. St. Andrew's is celebrating its 125th anniversary this year, although the current beautiful building with the tower wasn't built until 1927. The interior of St. Andrew's is wonderful. You should visit, maybe take a tour, or at very least visit their website and look at the pictures.

I was painting from a vantage point at Memorial Park. Memorial Park suffered devastating losses of trees in the recent winds. It's possible that a couple of weeks ago I could have stood in the same spot and giant oaks and camphor trees would have been in my sights. The sky was pretty today, but kind of emo. Then it started to rain and I hightailed it to my car, not because I mind the rain, but it plays hell with watercolors. I painted for another ten minutes at home.

Persimmons

2011-12-14T21:04:00.000-08:00

Here's a recent indoor painting. Generous friends shared their haul of delicious fuyu persimmons. I think because I'd painted persimmons in class last year, they called to me, not only to eat them, but to paint them too. I got the color much more saturated than my typical slightly faded looking watercolors. I recalled other lessons of oil painting as well: attention to values, contrasts, sparing but bold brushstrokes. They look a little like they're teetering on an abyss. I think the eating was a greater success than the painting. I ate at least one persimmon almost daily for more than a month I think. I shared a few. But the truth is few people like persimmons as much as I. I'm glad I didn't waste any, but I'm sad that they're all gone. I considered purchasing some at the market, but they're priced at bit beyond my fruit budget. Please think of me if you ever have more persimmons than you can use.

Can This Be Winter?

2011-12-11T22:37:00.000-08:00

When I said it was a beautiful day at Arlington Garden, this is what I'm talking about. It's nowhere near spring, and yet a hundred different things are blooming. Fruit of the prickly pear cactus.

These seed pods are on one of Yoko Ono's wishing trees. I don't have any idea what became of the wishes, but the trees live on at Arlington Garden. I remember a time when I thought Yoko Ono was not a real artist, but was an opportunistic selfish woman who broke up the Beatles and took John for herself. With more mature eyes, I can see how perfect Yoko was for John; how they exemplified the very best of love, nurturing what was truest and most beautiful in one another. That's a good wish.

Arlington Garden

2011-12-10T18:03:00.000-08:00

Beautiful day today. I'm glad I was out painting rather than shopping. At Arlington Garden, the citrus trees were heavy, and any windstorm damage had been lovingly cleared away. Exotic flowers were blooming and lizards were basking. Dogs and people were getting some exercise.

Once there was a enormous house here at Arlington and Orange Grove. The mansion wasn't torn down until 1961, by which time I was four and living in the area. How on earth did I miss it?

I also meant to note that instead of photographing my paintings laying flat in bright shade as I usually do, this was photographed upright in sunlight. The color washed out a bit, but is much more true, and you see the texture of the paper as well.

After Wind

2011-12-08T22:52:00.000-08:00

Possibly you heard that California experienced some unusually strong winds which took down thousands of trees and knocked power out in many locations. The trees at my home all survived, with just minor injuries. Power was only out for about seven hours when I was most interested in sleeping anyway. But my old computer? Fried when the power went out. Surge protector notwithstanding. That is why there have been no blog updates. My advice to you? Replace your surge protector every so often.

I went out last Saturday to paint, but it was still pretty windy, and I became convinced that a tree would fall on me. Or at minimum, that my easel and paper would blow away. This painting is one I had been wanting to paint for a while. One morning I found a dead moth floating in the dog's water. It was really very beautiful. But when I took a photograph, it looked awful. Sort of like a dead moth in the dog's water. It needed artistic interpretation. Which I have attempted.

Thank you for being here.

After Rain

2011-11-28T22:44:00.001-08:00

Nothing sparkles quite like a freshly washed garden.

Looking Back

2011-11-26T18:41:00.000-08:00

I didn't schedule a painting outing today, and I apologize to anybody who was disappointed. It is a very long weekend to go without painting, I know. Yesterday, I eschewed Black Friday in favor of Sleep In Friday, and then I just got swept up in the inertia. Mid-way through Saturday morning, I was itching to paint. I headed out to my front yard, thinking I would make a quick painting there. I live on a pretty nice-looking street with overhanging trees, some fall foliage and a mountain view. It was a beautiful morning. But I simply could not abide the music being played by the guys working on the sewer line at my neighbor's house. I thought about requesting that they shut their music off, but I'm not quite ready to embrace my inner curmudgeon. So I went back inside and waited about four hours. By the time the music was gone, the light in front was also. So I turned to the back. This is the view from the right of my back stoop, with several liberties taken.

I am especially pleased to discover that I am a compulsive painter. I am also pleased not to have a picture of a cold plucked bird at the top of the blog any longer.

Grateful Fed

2011-11-25T00:23:00.000-08:00

24 pound turkey. 28 pound pumpkin. 15 beloved people. Riches and blessings beyond measure. 3 glasses of wine. Many dishes - full, empty, washed and dried. Memories and leftovers.

Ahh Thanksgiving -- Festival of butter.

Life Continues

2011-11-21T19:48:00.001-08:00

Seen on a leaf of the pumpkin vine: a pair of gulf fritillaries, ensuring another generation.

Churches

2011-11-19T15:29:00.000-08:00

I notice that I paint a lot of churches. I believe I like to paint churches because they are architecturally appealing. People put a lot of care into building churches, and church buildings often become the focal point of a community. Many churches have big lawns where I can hang out and paint without bothering anybody as long as it isn't Sunday or a wedding day. Today was a wedding day at Westminster Presbyterian Church, and I painted anyway. My painting and I are even in the wedding video.

Westminster Presbyterian Church was built in 1927 on North Lake Avenue by the architecture firm of Marston, Van Pelt & Maybury. They were among Pasadena's finest architects in a golden age of building. I once attended a wedding at Westminster Presbyterian Church, and Hollywood has filmed several.

Sometimes organized religion makes me uncomfortable. Even with the very best intentions, religious organizations tend to foster divisions between people. As you know, divisions between people and their beliefs often go badly. I like religious organizations best when they leave their enclaves and go out to make the world a better place. There's lot's of room for improvement in the world. There is hunger, sadness, ignorance, illness, waste, dishonesty and greed. Which is not to say it isn't a wonderful world. It is. A world of infinite marvels and beauty. But it could be better.

Color and Texture

2011-11-15T00:09:00.000-08:00

A fall leaf
A spectacular cabbage, and

A remarkable pattern seen on the dead part of an oak tree

Eye on the Sparrow

2011-11-10T23:41:00.001-08:00

Sparrows have to be the riffraff of the bird word. They are pugnacious and prolific. They are alien and loud. They hop instead of walking.

Backyard birders with their bluebird nesting boxes? You couldn't find a nicer bunch of people. And yet when it comes to sparrows, they speak of pest control, of destroying broods, and of pellet guns. Thank God somebody's looking out for the sparrows.

Bug Collection

2011-11-06T19:49:00.000-08:00

I've always liked bugs. I never ever pinned a bug to board. A few times I've kept them alive in jars, but mostly now I just like to watch them go about their business in the garden.

This is the larva of a gulf fritillary feeding on the passion vine on my back fence.

A monarch, a prince of a caterpillar, munching milkweed along with a little milkweed aphid.

A large milkweed bug; they feed on the seeds of the milkweed.

A beautiful praying mantis girl on a double delight rose. Color untouched.

One of the heirloom roses. You can imagine how big the flower is to support two huge green bugs who are able to ignore one another.
It's Macro Monday here and at Lisa's Chaos.

Saturday Morning

2011-11-05T16:05:00.000-07:00

Sometimes it feels like work going out to paint on Saturday mornings. I don't get to sleep late very often. I don't get to hang out in my pajamas and eat indulgent breakfasts. Once I'm out though, especially if I like how the painting is going, there's little I'd rather do.

Today I painted from the Oaklawn Bridge - the landmark Green and Green 1906 concrete bridge - looking down at Mound Avenue. I chose this view because it was an unusual view point, and I liked the atmosphere of hazy bright morning light. Although there are some obvious problems with the painting, some of it is quite good I think, and I'm happy with the overall effect. I recommend the Oaklawn Bridge as a great place to paint, walk and explore.

Here's an old photo of the newly constructed Oaklawn Bridge.

Playing with Food

2011-11-04T00:17:00.000-07:00

In recent years, I've become quite fond of food crafts. They are cute and edible, and sitting around making them is an enjoyable activity especially fun to do with others. No glue, no glitter, and no permanent clutter left behind. There is simply no down side.

When Cost Plus ran out of Halloween candy body parts sushi trays, what else were we to do? We made our own. Experience making Peepshi was helpful. You will need fairly disgusting gummy candies in awful shapes, rice crispies treats and fruit roll-ups (or fruit leather if you wish to infuse them with nutritional value). You will need knives and scissors, and appropriate caution. You may copy the pictures or work from your own slightly twisted imagination.

These little acorns may be even more endearing, and they were certainly eaten up more quickly. The are made of unwrapped Hershey's Kisses, mini Nilla Wafers, and butterscotch chips, stuck together with peanut butter. They fairly ooze seasonal charm. You may want to use them to adorn the tops of your pumpkin spice cupcakes or a plate of leaf-shaped cookies. Or you could just eat them and take a nap.

Higher Mountains

2011-11-02T23:17:00.000-07:00

This painting dates back all the way to last Saturday, but my computer was out of commission and I had no way to bring it to you. This is Loma Alta Park, a Los Angeles County Park in Altadena. Loma Alta means high hill, and it's named, I believe, for it's elevation. There are spectacular views from the park of both the mountains and the Los Angeles basin. There are shaded picnic areas, great trees, horseshoes and an outdoor theater. In my late childhood, I left home for a day and walked to Loma Alta Park. It's always a good place end up.

Here's some of my favorite photographs from the visit. Especially the crow. Crows are great. So are maple leaves. Can you think of a better leaf?

My Pumpkin Patch

2011-10-24T23:13:00.000-07:00

Ask me about my pumpkins. Here's a baby picture.

Where pumpkins come from. My favorite.

And these should give you a sense of the scale.

Me and my pumpkins.

Nature Park

2011-10-22T15:22:00.000-07:00

I painted today at the South Pasadena Woodland and Wildlife Park, which is commonly known as the Nature Park, even by it's primary caregivers. It was pretty hot this morning, and I almost can't imagine what fall feels like. Other than evenings and the crunch of an apple. The painting is nothing to brag about. Anything that is lovely in the painting was probably lovelier in the world. I did turn the fall color up a notch, in a bit of wishful thinking.

Here is fairly satisfactory photograph of a spiderweb. The web was huge and well lit. I didn't see the spider. I did see some wildlife at the nature park, including a heron, mallard ducks, several lizards and some butterflies. But I'm not much good at photographing moving things.

The jimson weed was about my speed.

Occupy McDonald Park

2011-10-16T17:20:00.000-07:00

Weekends are wonderful and all too short. Every weekend, I need to catch up on gardening, laundry, grocery shopping, and myriad other tasks and errands. I want to spend time with my favorite people (not limited to the ones I am lucky enough to live or work with). I can choose but one or two venues from the smorgasbord of community cultural events. This Saturday was the Global Day of Action with Occupy Los Angeles. It was also Artwalk Pasadena, Taste of South Lake, Pasadena Heritage Craftsman Weekend, the Fork in the Road Forking Party, and a hundred other things I missed. I did paint in the morning at McDonald Park in Pasadena, and later I attended the Urban Rancho Sustainable Garden Party at the Lummis Home in Highland Park.

McDonald Park is in the middle of Pasadena's Bungalow Heaven. Bungalow Heaven is Pasadena's first Landmark District, and is on the National Register of Historical Places. It is a decidedly 99 percent neighborhood of small early 20th Century single family homes. The park fits well in the neighborhood. It has a playground, a single basketball court, a handball court, a softball field, really nice bathrooms, trees and picnic tables. In all truth, it's not really heaven, but it is quite nice. There seems to be a powerful neighborhood watch sentiment. I detected suspicious eyes on me -- me, middle-aged super harmless painter lady. Oh well.

I got to wondering who McDonald of McDonald Park was. My first line of investigation was the park sign, and then the city's website. No first name, just McDonald, like Old McDonald, but I didn't think that was it. I learned that the very first McDonalds restaurant was in Pasadena, but I didn't think that was it either. Here's what I finally came up with. And it's only a guess. In the 1880s, John McDonald established a real estate and insurance business in the center of Pasadena. He later was one of the founders of the first trust and loan of Pasadena. He became City Treasurer. In the 1920s he urged the approval of bonds for the civic center and for the water district. John McDonald was the Grand Marshal of the Rose Parade in 1928.

I painted this house on Mar Vista because I liked the light coming through the trees especially in the background. I didn't quite get it, but I think there's a few nice things happening in the painting. I cropped some of the left side because it was a bit eye-catching without being important. But that left the tree in the middle which isn't ideal. I think if weekends were longer, I'd be a better painter too.

I Don't Know

2011-10-01T17:49:00.000-07:00

I painted today at the Waverly School Organic Farm. I understand Waverly students walk from school to the farm, where they plant and tend vegetables, flowers and fruit. I also heard that they play outside in the sun and the shade, and climb trees and build forts and grow imaginations. Children were absent today from the farm because it's Saturday. But things were growing and awaiting their return.

There is a little pond there, which was reflecting an extra blue sky this morning. Huntington Hospital is right across the street. I struggled with the paints, and was annoyed with my painting. I'm still not crazy about it, but maybe it's not so bad.

Now and then

2011-09-26T23:32:00.000-07:00

Found in my garden

A seven-legged male green lynx spider on the Tahitian Sunset rose

A pear blossom from several weeks ago. Poignant, because none of the pears set, and the whole tree is having a bit of a struggle now. It's tough out there, sometimes, for spiders, for trees, for all of us.

They're for Macro Monday, but I can't seem to add hyperlinks these days.

Miniature Golf

2011-09-24T14:11:00.000-07:00

The Arroyo Seco Golf Course includes a par three eighteen hole course, a driving range, and a miniature golf course. It is the most wonderful use of small space tucked in between a freeway, roads and a wash; it is simple, unpretentious, reasonably priced and lovely. I don't actually golf, but I have tried the driving range. I am a seasoned veteran of the miniature golf course. This course was built over half a century ago; the castle is built of masonry; the windmill is built of wood. The course is rather challenging in places. Nine wonderful holes of wholesome, multi-generational, outdoor fun.

It was a little tricky to find a place to stand where I wouldn't be in the way or at risk from flying balls. I may try to paint the castle and the windmill from one of my photos. You might notice I painted a couple a people, which was kind of fun for a change. What I really want to do though is go back and play mini golf.

Macro Miscellany

2011-09-18T23:31:00.000-07:00

A young conifer beetle on a passion fruit

A mushroom on the lawn of Eliot Middle School

Roses, Double Delight

Fly on rose. They pollinate flowers too and have some beautiful colors, yet they lack the cachet of butterflies.

Eliot Middle School

2011-09-17T18:48:00.000-07:00

This morning I painted at Eliot Middle School. Because my children are grown, September doesn't hold the same back-to-school magic. But I had been longing to paint a school. Eliot is a pretty nice looking school on North Lake Avenue, close to some of my best friends and the Coffee Gallery which is also near to my heart. I like the painting pretty well. It looks just like Eliot, although it doesn't show the distinctive tower. It captures the slightly foggy morning atmosphere.

The school was dedicated in 1931, Charles W. Eliot Junior High School. Charles W. Eliot was the recently deceased former president of Harvard College. The stone plaque at the front of the school, reinforced with earthquake bolts, quotes Eliot, "Man glorifies God first by being useful, second by being happy. The supreme powers of the universe are not mechanical or material; they are hope and fear and love."

I had some personal history at Eliot. When I spent a year as a substitute teacher, physical education at Eliot was my most frequent assignment. I wore athletic shoes and handed out basketballs. It was nice to be outside. Classrooms can be pretty stifling, particularly for a young substitute teacher.

Whether you call it junior high school or middle school, those are some wickedly formative years. You have growth spurts and hormones. You start to learn about the world and keep secrets from your parents. Your wonderful friends and your anxiety form the center of your wildly spinning universe of hope and fear and love.

The Mission Gardens

2011-09-11T23:48:00.000-07:00

An odd little statue of a missionary priest and a small convert. Even odder fragment of a statue behind with only feet. A bundle of purifying sage in front.

A hybiscus bloom

A poinsettia

Little angel statue, in need of some birdseed

A happy yellow flowering tree.
Have a good week. Enjoy additional macro images at http://lisaschaos.com/.

Into the Weeds

2011-09-10T17:58:00.000-07:00

I painted today just off a tiny Alhambra street that has some pretty venerable art history. Champion Place was once home to the studios of artists Norman Rockwell, Clyde Forsythe, Frank Tenney Johnson, Eli Harvey, Tex Wheeler, Sam Hyde Harris, and Marjorie Reed. The eucalyptus tree lined arroyo has since been cemented in, and a batch of mid-century homes obscure the view. Nevertheless, it remains a place of abiding charms as well as a number of cats.

My painting got a bit cluttered and mired in details. But I think you can still see that it's a nice place. I was enticed away from painting by an invitation to tea, so I didn't quite finish on site. I completed the painting later at home, and since I had the paints out, I decided to try a second take on a postcard. And here you have it, almost completely without detail. Something in between would probably be best, something closer to the less fussy right side on the first painting.

I'm not sure how to bring this up. I worry sometimes that I'm a discourteous blogger. I think I behave myself pretty well on the blogs of others, but here I often neglect my guests. I don't thank you for your insightful or kind remarks. I don't even respond to your questions sometimes. I'm sorry. It doesn't mean I don't value you and treasure your comments. I don't really have an excuse. I will say my mother taught me to offer food and drinks, to take coats and write notes. But really I'm afraid she knew nothing of how to blog.

Mission Anniversary

2011-09-09T07:49:00.000-07:00

The San Gabriel Mission celebrated its 240th anniversary with a fiesta that included mass, a nine mile walk from Pueblo de Los Angeles, blessing of animals, a beauty pageant, a children's costume contest, Tongva storytellers, historical reenactments, traditional crafts, carnival rides, mariachi singers, folklorico dancers, and food. Sadly, I did not avail myself of all of it.

I set up to paint in the shade of a grapevine that is older than all the vineyards in the Napa Valley, and painted a sunny bit of mission wall. The wall holds the Stations of the Cross, and shades memorials to priests and brothers who have served at the mission church.

The history of California is so different from what I consider United States History. Californians spoke Spanish long before they spoke English. California was not part of Thirteen Colonies; it did not participate in the American Revolution or the Civil War. California's first European settlers were not Puritans seeking religious freedom; they were Catholic Missionaries. We had no part in the Boston Tea Party; we came in droves for a Gold Rush. History has to be a huge influence, that and the sunshine.

Figeater Beetles

2011-09-05T13:49:00.000-07:00

This summer, figeater beetles have descended on my yard. I don't even have a fig tree, but there's one next door. One morning I saw two of the beetles making sweet beetle love in my bougainvillea. Then a third beetle arrived.

The beetles are large, and they make a loud buzzing sound as they fly. They are a little alarming, but only harmful if you mind sharing your figs. The iridescence on their undersides is beautiful.

Pasadena City Hall

2011-09-04T14:23:00.000-07:00

I neither live nor work in Pasadena any longer, but I've done both, and I've never strayed too far afield. I painted the Pasadena City Hall last weekend, and here it is. My painting looks a little unfinished, but the paint dried fast in the extreme heat of the day. This city hall is a magnificent and monumental building, constructed over four years in the 1920s as the centerpiece of a 3 1/2 million dollar civic center. It is presently in the later stages of a massive renovation. The city hall has 235 rooms, which I find to be a staggering number. Most things with that many rooms are hotels or hospitals.

About Pigeons

2011-08-30T22:44:00.000-07:00

More pigeons, by popular demand.

Our urban pigeons are descended from rock doves, old world birds that dwell in steep rock cliffs. Their species preceded ours on earth by a long shot. Starting in ancient times, pigeons were domesticated. They were prized as a source of food before chickens were readily available. They produced fertilizer. They were bred for their beautiful plumage. They were raced for sport, and used as messengers because of their endurance and uncanny homing instincts. Our urban pigeons are feral pigeons, descendants of rock doves that were domesticated and brought to North America. They adapt brilliantly to city life, because they'll eat just about anything, and they're quite comfortable flying among the highrises that kill many less adaptable birds. They are loyal mates and prolific breeders. They are protective parents whose babies stay in the nest for thirty days with both parents feeding them, until they are full grown.

Pigeons are unique among feral animals because they maintain the extremely varied colors that were the result of human selection. Pigeons often have damaged feet as a result of infection, due to physical hazards and unclean conditions where they live. Birth abnormalities are rare among pigeons. Typical urban pigeons live about five years. Many studies have demonstrated pigeons to be among the most intelligent of birds, and comparable in intellect to small children, dolphins and elephants. Pigeons have been decorated war heroes.

Past Posts

2011-08-27T14:31:00.000-07:00

Jean Nelson (fellow painter blogger) tagged me for the Seven Links Project. The idea is to build blogging community and highlight past blog posts in each of seven categories. It was thought-provoking and fun to select these. It was somewhat more difficult technically, and I can't explain the hugeness of some of these images. I should link back to the original posts, but I've already spent more time on this than I did on this morning's painting.

Most Beautiful. This, of course, is just my opinion. It does have lovely color I think. I might find a nice wall for it in my own home.

Most Popular. I get literally hundreds of hits on this post. I'm pretty sure it's just fourth graders and their parents doing research for their California Mission projects. But I'll take it.

Most controversial. I'm not exactly a controversial blogger. This one got some love, it got some meh, and my writing hinted at scandal.

Most helpful. My post, "what I learned," where I shared my notes from my oil painting class.

The post that didn't get the attention it deserved. I'm not sure what it deserves, but it only got one comment. Of course that was back in the old lean days. I still like the simplicity of this.

A post whose success surprised me. This was my second challenge piece. It's tied for the most comments, and I think it won me some followers. I knew it was a pretty good painting, but I underestimated the power of pizza and beer with dramatic lighting.

Post of which I'm proudest. A good painting of a great dog. I captured the light and the likeness and invented good color. The painting won a prize and became a gift. Dogs inspire.

Cobb's Grounds

2011-08-22T23:49:00.000-07:00

I think this painting might be my best plein air watercolor painting. I think it captures the depth and light changes that attached me to this scene. And it looks kind of competent, rather than pale and tentative or overworked. This was my second painting visit this summer to the Cobb Estate in Altadena.

I photographed some jimson weed, to channel Georgia O'Keefe, and/or give you a give you a sense of the benign eeriness of the place. I also pocketed a heart-shaped rock and took it home. For luck and love and my large collection.

The Vista

2011-08-17T00:01:00.000-07:00

Here is the view I painted last Saturday from Vista Hermosa Park. It wasn't really this smoggy; I played up the haze to try to tone down the buildings in the distance and it didn't entirely work.

Among the buildings shown here are 333 S. Beaudry, formerly the Security Pacific Beaudry Center, where I worked for a few years, but not for Security Pacific. It's the one on the far right. The white building in the middle housed the now defunct Pacific Stock exchange trading floor. Right behind it is the Hotel Bonaventure. The tallest building in the picture and in Los Angeles is the U.S. Bank Tower, formerly the Library Tower. The middle ground buildings are Department of Water and Power. The green structure is part of the Edward Roybal Learning Center.

Anyway, it's a very cool view, especially when it's clear. I found evidence that another painter had been here before, which I knew. A stripe of thalo green paint on a plant.

Urban Oasis

2011-08-15T00:12:00.000-07:00

Saturday I painted at Vista Hermosa Park near downtown Los Angeles. These are photographs I took there. The painting I made will follow in a day or so.

Vista Hermosa Park is a little like a Phoenix rising from the ashes. In the 1990s, construction got underway on a huge and badly needed new high School and mixed use development in a somewhat tired and blighted part of the city. It was called the Belmont Learning Center. Part way into the building, environmental reports caught up. It turned out that there was serious contamination of the ground owing to oil drilling that went on there in the past. There was also a big old earthquake fault. Not optimal for a school. For years the project stood incomplete. Trees grew up through buildings two stories high. Eventually a smaller high school was built, named for long-time Congressman Edward Roybal. Another new school was built close by at the location of the school district offices. The rest of the land was covered with community soccer fields and a nature park. The park is maintained by Santa Monica Mountains Conservancy. Although it's on a steep slope, you couldn't really call it mountains, and it isn't really Santa Monica either. But they do a nice job. It's a marvel to see how much nature recovers and thrives.

Macros submitted for Lisa's Chaos Macro Monday. Wild rose hips, a fruit beetle, a wild rose, and a spider on a spent sage blossom.

Light and shade

2011-08-09T22:30:00.000-07:00

Last Saturday I painted at Maranatha High School, formerly Ambassador College. I found a shady spot on the Del Mar side and looked across the street to this nice front yard. My predictions for the trajectory of the sun were incorrect, and I ran out of shade pretty quickly. But I liked what I was painting, and I painted on.

Ambassador College had a pretty interesting history, of which I'm only peripherally aware. I must confess my favorite years were the years, and there were several, when it stood vacant and unused, yet nevertheless beautifully gardened. Like the most marvelous secret park for the initiated few. I don't know too much about Maranatha High School. It is a private Christian school that used to be somewhere else.

I think this is kind of a cool painting. I think I'm making some progress on getting my colors and values more intense, and appropriately simplifying stone walls. Lines are a bit of a problem area; somebody suggested that lines should be avoided in paintings - not edges, but lines. I can see that, although it couldn't be a hard and fast rule.

The woman from the house said she was flattered I was painting her house, and she asked me to let her know if it turned out well. I wasn't sure what she would think was well, or how she would have me let her know. I do have the address.

Two roses and a weed

2011-08-08T00:01:00.001-07:00

More intimate peeks at my backyard. For Macro Monday.

Of the Angels

2011-08-02T22:49:00.001-07:00

The Church of the Angels was built in 1889, which makes it older than just about anything around here. God himself and the dirt are older. I drive past the Church of the Angels on my favorite shortcut from downtown L.A. to Pasadena. The church is imposing and beautiful. I have yet to see the inside, but I've painted it twice now and feel well acquainted with the outside.

The church is faced in sandstone and the roof I think is slate. The morning sun shone on the roof and just touched the high points on the sandstone. I tried to paint that. Something that stands as strong and beautiful as this church, and has been so perfectly preserved and maintained through so many years of use is inspiring. Sometimes it's hard just to keep my house up and keep the computer running. In all our efforts, perhaps God is pleased and glorified.

In my favorite and perhaps most blasphemous religious meditation, I ask myself what I would want if I were God and I had created the universe and humanity. I would want people to notice how lovely and intricate it is. I would want people to take good good care of the world - to use it and enjoy it, but never muck it up. I'd want people to appreciate humanity and be joyful and kind, and to love and never harm each other. Really, that's all.

Flora and fauna of home

2011-08-01T08:23:00.000-07:00

Pigeons in the Park

2011-07-27T22:50:00.000-07:00

I'm pretty happy with my life-sized rendering of a pair of pigeons showing a little affection. I like pigeons a lot. You've probably heard this before. I like their plumpness, their iridescence, and their soft cooing sounds. I like that they hang around downtown and on windowsills. And how they are in my front yard but won't visit the back.

Remember Bert on Sesame Street? He was also a big fan of pigeons. As between Bert and Ernie, I'd prefer to think I was more like Ernie. Ernie is the creative one, the inventive and adventurous one. Ernie is a dreamer and he is warm and expressive. Most important, Ernie has the voice of Jim Henson, who is one of my all-time heroes. But I have to admit I'm more like Bert. Bert is quirky and uptight and maybe even a little whiny. But you know he's okay, because he likes pigeons and he's Ernie's best friend and he always joins in before the song is done.

El Centro

2011-07-16T14:31:00.000-07:00

I thought a little this morning about why we make pictures. At best, they are objects of beauty, which is enough. If we make photographs or representational art, we make pictures OF things. To be objects of beauty, but also to capture a moment, a place, a face, to make an object out of a vision.

I thought about this because when I go out to paint, I try to choose my subject based on how it looks rather than what it is. I may not be a super good painter, but I am a serious painter. I value all the good art advice I've received, and try to follow it. I don't see myself as a sentimental painter, even if I sometimes do make pictures of beloved companion animals.

My painting location this morning included a view of my old veterinarian's office. El Centro Small Animal Clinic, the office of Dr. Pio Rimando. Dr. Rimando was there when I moved to town. The household I joined already had a cat who was a patient of Dr. Rimando's, so I brought my cat to him as well. Dr. Rimando and his wife ran a small, happy, busy office. The prices were reasonable; dogs and cats got shots and stitches. There wasn't even a x-ray machine. There was something so extraordinarily beautiful in the quiet gentle matter-of-fact way Dr. Rimando handled the animals. Mrs. Rimando planted beautiful flowers outside the office. You'd always see them out walking dogs who were boarding and watering the flowers. Dr. Rimando got older, and sometimes the office was closed for weeks because he was ill. He started keeping much shorter hours. Eventually, reluctantly, he put the property up for sale. Now there's a notice of zoning change up in the window. Somebody wants to tear down the building and put up a two-story office or live-work building. Another one. It will be nice to remember when it looked like this.

I did put in some time before I painted it to see it as a picture - the diagonal and convergent lines and the blasts of red.

Across the street was a reminder to stop and smell the roses.

Hermon Park

2011-07-09T17:59:00.001-07:00

Hermon is very small neighborhood in Northeast Los Angeles. One of its features is a park located on Via Marisol - once known as Hermon Avenue - but renamed after the daughter of a city councilman. Hermon Park has many tennis courts and an off-leash dog park. I chose to paint at Hermon Park because it contains two bridges and a view of one more. Yet, as you can see, I didn't paint a bridge at all. There was one bridge view I fancied, but it required that I stand in the sun and look upward, which wasn't nearly comfortable enough.

I found a shady spot close to my car, and painted sycamore trees. This view could be virtually any park in the greater Los Angeles area. All the parks have grass and sycamore trees. Sycamores are native to, and thrive in this area, although their leaves are green for a much shorter time than in cooler wetter parts of the country. Their trunks are their greatest charm though - the light colors with hints of pink and lavender, and jigsaw puzzle patterns in the bark; the graceful lyrical way the trunks turn and bend, as if the trees are dancing. I'm somewhat pleased with the painting.

A father with a tiny girl stopped to look. The dad in his British accent pointed out various things in and about the painting including the "bin". I'd call it a trash can. Got me thinking about how the English don't seem to call anything a can. Not a tin, not a bin, not a loo, and not that either. Seems to be nothing but an auxiliary verb across the pond.

Downtown Los Angeles

2011-06-26T13:59:00.000-07:00

Last week, I painted at Angel's Nook, a tiny little pocket park in downtown L.A. right next to Angel's Flight, a tiny little funicular railway. My painting turned out to be a complete waste of paper. In fact, I think I'll use the back to test colors. I saved the day by shopping at Grand Central Market. Grand Central Market opened in 1917 to serve the population's need for fresh produce and other foods. It has remained, I imagine, pretty much unchanged since that time. I purchased as much fresh produce as I could carry - two arm-straining bags of peppers, avocados, bananas, cherries, cucumbers, green onions and more - for $5.42.

After the fact, I painted a view from the lot where I parked to paint and shop. It's pretty simplified, which is a good thing, yet I think you can still recognized the Los Angeles City Hall and the Los Angeles Times buildings.

I've been a little light on blogging lately. It seems better, at least for now, to concern myself with quality rather than quantity. In almost all things.

It's still Monday here

2011-06-13T23:24:00.001-07:00

I'm sharing my roses with many katydid nymphs. There are plenty to go around. These look very similar to the grown katydids. The smaller ones look very different and it took me literally years to figure out that they were the same insects.
These katydids haven't yet grown their wings, so they aren't making noise. I can't quite remember how they sound. I listened to sound clips, and they were a little different from the katydids around here. The call is supposed to sound like "katy did," which is where they got the name. I don't really hear that. It is a more complex song than the chirp of the crickets though. A three beat measure.

I've included this because the colors go so well with the picture above. I've also been pretty excited ever since I learned what a scarlet pimpernel is. This lovely little weed. What an odd name for a hero. Damned elusive pimpernel (I quote.) There are more wonderful macros here.

Haunted Forest

2011-06-07T22:55:00.000-07:00

I painted this at the Cobb Estate in Altadena. Although there is a lot of internet noise about it being haunted, it's not a scary place, at least not during daylight. I saw a huge and marvelous gopher snake there on Saturday. I understand the property did belong to Groucho Marx for a time, but that was after the mansion was razed, and he never lived there. The Cobb Estate is also the entrance to the Echo Mountain trail, which is one of my favorite local hikes. It works your leg muscles and heart just about the right amount, and there's some nice stuff to see when you get there.

Although this is not painted very well, it does have nice colors and value patterns. It looks pretty nice to me from a distance. It might look good on an i-phone.

If, like me, you love old things and music, you'll want to check out the National Jukebox at the Library of Congress. What a kick. These are the recordings people listened to before they even had radios.

. . .

2011-06-06T08:25:00.000-07:00

My Turn

2011-06-02T22:31:00.000-07:00

Some months ago, I mentioned to my blog's biggest fan that I'd considered making a separate blog for rants. Everybody wants to rant sometimes, right? I'm a picture person though, so the blog would have to have pictures, and I didn't know what. How about pictures of bottles of your favorite beers? he said. In some odd way, it made sense. But I thought little more of it. Then one afternoon, I was at the Altadena Ale House on the patio. The sun shone on the remains of a happy hour. I took pictures. Weeks later, with nothing to paint, I committed the images to watercolor. Now here are my rants.

I don't really care what you believe, unless you insist on believing in a selfish, egotistical, narrow-minded God. That is wrong.

Don't be wasteful. Don't acquire or consume things you don't need or want. Don't dispose of things that are still good and useful.

Take personal responsibility. Change your own ways. Don't assume that the world's problems will be solved for you.

Keep your sense of perspective. There may be concerns that are more important and more pressing than yours.

Be aware of your surroundings. Take in the beauty. Notice what is missing. Be mindful of the dangers. Move with care. Be thoughtful of the others.

Be quiet. There's much too much noise and talk. Wait until you have something to say that adds something. Meanwhile, just think and breathe and listen.

Crap. That's not very rant-like. Oh well. Perhaps another time.

Walk in the Arroyo

2011-05-29T00:20:00.000-07:00

Arroyo means river bed. So just as a river might run through town, and people might stroll along it, so does a river bed. In Pasadena, South Pasadena, and Northeast Los Angeles, it's called The Arroyo. And we walk In it. It's a popular spot for dogs, horses and runners. It's a nice walk close to nature.

Matilija poppies grow there. I think they were planted as part of a restoration effort. They bloom right around May 28, for I'm not sure how long. The flowers are huge and wonderful. They make you stop and look and say wow.

I wanted to paint the flowers, but I also wanted to paint a landscape. I did both. My current painting mantras (do other people have painting mantras?) are "don't waste the paper" and "you can't oversimplify."

Duck

2011-05-22T23:23:00.000-07:00

Duck

Duck feather

Visit Lisa's Chaos for Macro Monday. And have a good week.

Almansor Park

2011-05-21T15:09:00.000-07:00

I painted in Almansor Park today. It was warmer than predicted, but still nice. The people were plentiful and pleasant, and the birds were quite wonderful. I recognized some of the ducks and geese from my last visit. The painting went quickly. I'm sort of pleased. It's a little bland but I did take on water. I should have included geese and golfers. Just beyond the little gazebo (or what have you) a wedding happened while I painted.

Parking at the Castle Green

2011-05-16T22:37:00.000-07:00

Last time I painted the Castle Green Apartments, I got a parking ticket. This time I ensured that parking enforcement would not go unnoticed. That's my car. A slightly wonky version (my painting, that is) of a 1992 Honda Accord Wagon.

I could tell you about the jazz benefit that was going on in the park, or about the young paramedic who interviewed me on the meaning of life for his college project. I could tell you about the meaning of life. But I sense you want some history.

In the late 19th Century, Pasadena was hugely popular with tourists from other parts of the country, who came for the mild winter weather. Railroads and hotels were built to accommodate them. One or more of the huge fine old hotels fell victim to fires in those days of gaslights. The Webster House was the first fireproof building in Pasadena. It was purchased from Mr. Webster by civil war Colonel George Gill Green, whose family fortune came from patent medicines. Green expanded the hotel, and built the luxurious annex that that became known as the Castle Green. Colonel Green marketed two elixirs, "Green's August Flower" and "Dr. Boschee's German Syrup." The German Syrup definitely contained an opiate, and August Flower probably did also. August Flower was touted for its benefits in curing dyspepsia. Possibly it was responsible for the untimely death of the woman in white who haunts the Castle Green. Or perhaps I just made that up.

Bother

2011-05-15T23:37:00.000-07:00

It's Monday again already.

This bug showed up on my spent sunflower. It looks like it's wearing pants. I like the leaf shapes and the shadows in the photograph. I submitted it for Macro Monday. I also submitted it to What's That Bug, because I'm not sure what it is.

Fragrance

2011-05-09T00:49:00.000-07:00

There are a few things in my garden that I planted, but almost all the plants were here when I arrived. Yet I couldn't love it any better if it had sprouted from my dreams or by my hard work. As much as the sights, I cherish the scents of my garden. Honeysuckles, simple and sweet, that smell like my childhood just as the school year was ending. Night-blooming jasmine - secret, beautiful, intoxicating. Like falling in love.

A River

2011-05-06T19:35:00.001-07:00

Here's an abstract painting I painted. In part. Burdened with a mind that best grasps the concrete, I've never known how to approach creating an abstract painting. I like abstract paintings pretty well, although they aren't my very favorites. I've seen some I absolutely loved, but it would be difficult for me to figure out exactly why I love them. I attempted to convince Sam Kitamura to demonstrate his process, but he was bent on making me paint. So we switched off. He laid in some bold lines. I played with water and tentatively dabbed in some color. He painted some more. Then I painted some, adding some final touches with Sam's advice. He told me to sign it. This isn't exactly my signature; it's closer to how I sign checks than paintings. I learned a couple of things. An abstract has structure; well of course it does. It's a thing; it's concrete; it's part of the world. Possibly a wholly new creation. Color changes everything, especially the color it sits next to. I still wouldn't know where to begin.

Before the abstract, I painted the Los Angeles River. The painting is inadvertently abstract, and not very good. The L.A. River is one of a strange city's quirkiest features. It's mostly cement lined, extremely trash filled, and almost always a laughable trickle. But periodically it swells up to thirty feet and rushes to the ocean, taking a life or two on the way. There's an ambitious plan underway to restore the river to a more natural state. Boulders have been added, trees grow, and the water birds are abundant and varied. Last weekend as I painted, a volunteer workforce of hundreds pulled junk out of the river. With the care and persistence of people like those, it will be a real river again some day. Fish and all. My father used to catch crawdads in the Los Angeles River.

New Born Limes

2011-05-02T07:37:00.000-07:00

Fraught with possibility. A spritz on fish. A twist in seltzer. Guacamole, key lime pie. Margaritas. For Macro Monday.

Follow Your Bliss

2011-04-29T19:30:00.000-07:00

This was painted for the Calypso Moon Artist Movement challenge, Art in Music. It took me quite a lot of consideration to pick the music and an image. I wanted to pick some slightly obscure music that you probably haven't heard, in the hope of giving you something new to like. The inspiration is Po' Girl's song, Follow Your Bliss. It's roots music with lyrics that say something. The painting is in a slightly primitive style in gouache on watercolor. There's a line in the song referring to that wonderful fact about stars - they are so far away from us that by the time we see them they might be gone. I think moths are sad and beautiful in the same way as distant stars. They are fragile and short-lived. Some even have no mouths. They don't eat; all they do is seek a mate. Nobody knows for certain why moths fly toward light. Theories are that it guides them in their navigation and brings them toward a place of safety or other moths. Perhaps it is because the light is beautiful and brings joy to the moths. Follow your bliss sums up a philosophy of doing the thing that you love, and harmony, success or whatever you need will derive from that. Painters mostly get that. Musicians get it too. Go on. Shine.

I was stumped trying to figure out how to embed the YouTube video, so I'm accepting tutoring. Here's the link.

A Dog Named Sam

2011-04-12T21:52:00.000-07:00

If you share your home with a dog, you will know just how much your life is enriched - with affection, humor, empathy, playfulness, joy. It's uncanny, magic even, how the dog settles into the comfortable spot in your heart. I went many years of my adult life without a dog. I didn't know it then, but I was a poorer and sadder person. This isn't my dog; Frankie is my dog.

There were three people who convinced me to get a dog. They know who they are. But there was also a dog that convinced me - this dog, our neighbors' ever-present friendly happy lively dog, Sam.

I'm happy with the portrait. I worked from a black and white photo, and I spent more hours drawing than painting, to get the likeness. I always thought it would be difficult working from black and white, but I actually think my colors are better than they would be if I had a colored picture as a guide. I had to think about the colors more and try them out. It amuses me how the unfinished bottom of the picture makes me think of the Gilbert Stuart portrait of George Washington

Monday Morning Macro

2011-04-11T06:51:00.000-07:00

My interest and confidence in photography has been growing. Particularly close-up shots of small things. So I thought I'd participate in the Macro Mondays of Lisa's Chaos. Here is a ladybug without spots. A little out focus.

Old Mill, Now and Then

2011-04-09T19:02:00.000-07:00

I painted this afternoon at El Molino Viejo. It was a beautiful day, with the sun ducking in and out of clouds and spring well underway. The painting looks very similar to the one I painted last summer. I chose to paint the same view since I knew it worked. I think I might like the new one even better. It has more color variations and the appearance of depth. I'm very fond of the simple trees in the background. However, my thoughts were on an entirely different picture of El Molino Viejo. This one:

I remembered seeing this photograph on the internet, and I got a huge kick out of it, because there is this woman well over 100 years ago, doing just exactly what I do. I'm betting she didn't go home and blog about it though. In my quest to find the picture again, I also happened to learn who is pictured. The seated woman is Elizabeth Putnam, a Los Angeles painter and art teacher. Looking over her shoulder is Gutzon Borglum, whom Elizabeth married. He was 20 years younger, and she left him in Europe. His best known work, by a long shot, is Mount Rushmore.

Ernest Debs

2011-04-03T17:05:00.000-07:00

This is my painting from yesterday at the Audubon Center at Ernest Debs Park. Ernest Debs was a former Los Angeles County Supervisor from 1958 through 1974. Coincidentally, these are the same years I was a child. L. A. County supervisors have enormous power. There are only five of them in a county that encompasses over 4,000 square miles (or 10,000 square kilometers) and close to 10 million people. A few of the functions county supervisors oversee are flood control, beaches, criminal prosecutions, jails, hospitals, museums, the board of health, emergency communication and disaster relief. The Board of Supervisors passes ordinances with the force of laws. Although we elect them, we tend not to pay much attention to our county supervisors. Only once ever was an incumbent defeated. The names of the supervisors are somewhat familiar to us, but if they didn't have things named for them, they would pass into obscurity in a short time.

We remember Ernie Debs because he had a park named for him, although the land for the park was set aside before Ernie's time. Debs was famous briefly in the 1960s when he launched a law enforcement campaign against the counter-culture that was thriving at music clubs on the Sunset Strip - an unincorporated (hence county) section of Sunset Boulevard adjacent to Hollywood and Beverly Hills. Ernest Debs also signed and presented a proclamation naming Louise Huebner the official witch of Los Angeles County. This is true. Louise's husband was Mentor Huebner, a film industry illustrator and fine artist. Here's a view of Los Angeles painted by Mentor Huebner.

Spring

2011-04-01T23:31:00.000-07:00

Lessons from flowers: be open, be colorful, be fruitful, sow your seeds, follow the sun, seize the day.

Coloring Page

2011-03-31T08:47:00.000-07:00

Well, I have paintings in progress, but nothing to post. Here is something I did a while ago with a purpose. And here is the background story. A few years ago, I moved from my badly-decorated 70s condo to my 1916 house - a house which is practically perfect, if you can abide only one bathroom and spartan closet space. As I can. In one small corner of oozing charm, the kitchen has a breakfast nook. When I took over the house, the nook was fitted with a 50s diner booth kind of table. It was a nice and serviceable table and I lived with it. It obviously wasn't the original table though, and its lines and material clashed with the built-in benches and cabinets. I'd keep my eyes open at salvage shops, and one day I missed a table by minutes. I stepped up my search a bit, and even considered having a table custom built.

Then there was providence. I was driving to work one Monday morning, trash day in Los Angeles. Right there on Soto Street, at the curb with the cans, was a table. I screeched to a halt. The table was a bit heavy, and too large for my station wagon. A woman with a yard sale in progress agreed to keep it for me, and her son helped me carry it. I drove on to work, and enlisted the assistance of a friend with a truck. One of the best kinds of friends. We picked up my table at lunch, and it was delivered to my house later. Then the work began. While the table had good bones, it was wearing many years of chipped paint, contact paper, and dried-on bits of ickyness. It was stripped and sanded. The top couldn't be saved, which made me a little sad, thinking of the meals, the homework, the crafts, and everything that must have transpired on that tabletop. I got the table a new beautiful and sturdy butcher block top from Arroyo Hardwoods.

I don't have Photoshop or a cheaper alternative. I made a line drawing of the breakfast nook with the table, and I got out my crayons to determine what color the table should be. The kitchen is painted two very pale shades of yellow green with white trim. The floor is patterned vinyl of a similar color and shade. The tile counters and back-splashes are yellow with a green stripe accent. The table, below the top, ultimately received a few coats of a color called Green Balloon - similar to, but a little lighter, than the green stripe. Cheerful, but not too light, and old-timey. Eventually the rest of the breakfast nook and the whole kitchen will get new paint, probably in new colors.

You should feel free to color the breakfast nook picture, and submit your images and/or color scheme suggestions. You should probably also draw plates and food on the table.

Filling Shoes

2011-03-23T08:58:00.000-07:00

These were painted by Claire Crowley. Not her best work, I'm sure, but the one I have. When I was in high school and college, Claire was one of my best friends. She was really quite marvelous - artsy, edgy, smart, quirky, beautiful and kind. Then, accidentally and suddenly, she died, ripping an enormous hole in my world.

Slowly such holes are filled, as they are meant to be. We fill them by living more intensely and richly - tasting and breathing the wonders of the earth that our absent friends no longer have. We fill them with other friends, who also are rare and precious, and only on loan to us. Finally time fills the holes. I am middle-aged; Claire was barely a grown woman. When more time passes, I too will be gone.

I painted my shoes first. I knew a girl who had painted a pair of work boots with dreamscapes and icons from album cover art. My canvas shoes got decorated in acrylic paints, probably with clouds, rainbows and pine trees, because that's who I was then. I worked at Y day camp, and the kids there liked my shoes so well that I got a couple of commissions. It seemed like a successful venture, so Claire and I were going to launch a business. We spent a whole day working on it. Girls of that age have the attention spans of butterflies. I painted a pair of men's 10 1/2 dark blue deck shoes. I painted the planets of the solar system not to scale, with both sides of the earth. Claire painted these, much smaller than her own feet, with lady acrobats juggling orbs.

I grew up and had two sons, and my sons grew up, and the second son wore the shoes I painted, and wore them out. These shoes have never been worn.

These Things

2011-03-19T16:27:00.000-07:00

This is my misty morning view from Farnsworth Park. I cheated a bit, and worked on it at home, because my feet got wet. I like it all right, but it really Really makes me think of Mystery Science Theater 3000.

There's the moon, not quite full, last night before the sky clouded up to hide the great big moon. I'm sorry; I can't call it a super moon; it just makes it sound too bouncy.

If I can trust Wikipedia, and God knows I've trusted it for more important things, these be shamrocks.

Green

2011-03-17T22:33:00.000-07:00

Are any of these shamrocks? If you know.

I'm part-Irish. I wouldn't mind if it were more. I mean, I wouldn't want to give up any of the ancestors I have, but I think I'd like it if the unknown ones turned out to be Irish.

Arlington Garden

2011-03-14T22:54:00.000-07:00

I started painting from the top down, and I think I like the top best, with it's strong contrasts and abstracted shapes. The painted irises and their leaves seem a little weak and mushy. The result notwithstanding, painting last Saturday was an unqualified success. Flowers were blooming, birds were singing, the weather was perfect. A handful of people were enjoying the garden.

I'm often surprised when I paint out on Saturdays that I don't encounter bigger crowds. Where do people go on Saturday, if not these beautiful accessible public outdoor spaces? For my money, they can keep the malls.

Daily Bug

2011-03-11T07:39:00.000-08:00

I'm not really sure it's a Carolina Mantis. Some kind of praying mantis, of course, but having seen honey bees snatched out of life by those jaw-like forelegs, I hesitate to call it praying. That's the yin and yang of the food chain; one creature's demise is another creature's sustenance.

I like the way the background turned out. I needed to make something that the green mantis would show up against, something amorphous but interesting enough to draw the mantis's attention in the direction away from the viewer.

I may take a break from bugs for a little while; there's some two- and four-legged creatures I'm wanting to paint.

Stroke of Luck

2011-03-05T20:12:00.000-08:00

A fellow painter admired this, and I said I found painting a little like poker. Know when to hold 'em, know when to fold them, she said. True enough. But I was thinking of the element of luck. Because I work every bit as hard on the bad paintings as the good ones. Like poker, there's a lot of luck involved, but the more you do it, the more often your luck is good. Be warned: I am totally unqualified to offer poker advice.

Coincidentally, this lovely Queen Anne structure used to belong to a fellow whose nickname was Lucky. It was built for his sixteen year-old bride. Lucky Baldwin nearly lost his life and fortune on several occasions, but by luck he kept missing death and financial ruin. He did finally die.

That expression -- stroke of luck; it may well refer to a brushstroke.

Organization

2011-03-04T23:39:00.000-08:00

Like many people of my age, I came to digital photography late. In the absence of clear plastic sleeves for negatives and yellow-orange envelopes containing Kodak prints that just fit shoe boxes, I'm at a loss to organize my photographic images. I know in theory it ought to be easier. In practice, I use a huge memory card and accumulate thousands of images in my camera. As the need or whim strikes me, I pick off a few at time and store them in uselessly named files on my computer. Names like Camera, Paint, and Today. I still maintain the majority of the images on the memory cards, and often repeatedly transfer the same image to the computer. Additional chaotically arranged images are on a separate hard-drive. I add to this problem daily, and worry about it only occasionally.

I usually know what I'm looking for, and so far have been able to find it. Always in the last place I look. Tonight I was looking through my images for pictures of sparrows. Since I see sparrows everyday, there are lots of sparrow pictures spread around in lots of picture files. You may notice these aren't sparrows at all. I just came across these forgotten images tonight, and they pleased me. The passion flowers are still buds now, but before long these crazy blooms will be back, enchanting the bees of a new season. Maybe I'll get a new memory card.

Painting Indoors

2011-02-27T13:24:00.000-08:00

It's tough for me to follow that last painting, which I like much better than I usually like my paintings. But I need to move along, hopefully with a higher bar for myself. This was a quick still life painted at the San Gabriel Fine Arts Association open studio paint-in. The composition is awful - three things of similar size plunked down across the page in tic tac toe order. I had hoped that dramatic shadows would tie them together, but it didn't happen. I believe a vertical orientation would have been better. I should have honed in on my subject. I do like the light and shadow on that one pear - the contrast of the hard edge and soft edge. Sweet, huh?

Afternoon Light

2011-02-21T09:22:00.000-08:00

When I drive a couple of miles north to get to the freeway, there's a view I love. It's a fairly unobstructed view of the mountains with the lithe limbs of a eucalyptus silhouetted in front. When the sun is low in the afternoon, the sky turns rosy and casts a glow on the scene.

There's also a supermarket there, a bank, a parking lot, and very tall street lights, not to mention the distant jumble of unrelated foliage and structures I can't make out. There isn't really a place to stand and paint either. It's a busy intersection, with only narrow strips of sidewalk. I drove up there one afternoon and parked in the corner of the lot and took several pictures from each corner of the the intersection. Eventually I came back to the photographs. I made a drawing of only the parts I liked. I worried it was too simple, and I almost added more. I edited the tree a bit. I tested the colors.

I like this painting very much. It captures the few simple elements that make me love that view as I drive quickly past. I'm going to submit it for the Calypso Moon Artist Movement landscape challenge. It's a 12 x 16 inch watercolor.

Gulf Fritillary

2011-02-16T07:55:00.000-08:00

Here is a gulf fritillary in the pear tree. I took the reference photograph early in the morning and caught the butterfly sleeping. They don't stay still long when they're awake. It was a few a months ago as you can see because the tree had leaves. These gulf fritillaries are ubiquitous in my garden. In the afternoon in season, there is always a crowd of them. I take them a little for granted in fact, and have nearly forgotten that they are exotic and beautiful, as is the passion vine that lured them to my home. They are medium-sized butterflies with proportionately long wings with silvery spots on the underside.

I'm fairly happy with this painting, especially the shadows in the folds of the wings which were tricky, and the branches which effortlessly sprung from my paint brush like magic.

Thanks to George Liang, who painted me painting, I have a new profile picture.

Valentines

2011-02-14T07:48:00.000-08:00

These pictures seemed to fit the day. That is, they are less inappropriate. Happy Valentine's Day. All kinds of love.

Sierra Madre

2011-02-13T18:04:00.000-08:00

I hope this is just a stage that my painting is going through, and I'm on the brink of a breakthrough. For now, just another failed painting. I painted this at Bailey Canyon Park. I was pretty enthusiastic about my subject. I'm been wanting to paint our mountains - that particular regional variety of rugged mountains with scrubby growth and the most beautiful contours and colors and textures. I also liked the flowering and almost flowering foreground. I may have lacked commitment to the middle ground.

What do we do with our failed paintings? Do we try to save the paper by soaking it or painting on the back. Do we burn them so they'll never show up to embarrass us? Do we cut them into small pieces to use as bookmarks and gift cards? Do we give them away to people kind enough to tell us they aren't all that bad? Do we save them to measure our progress?

Reconstruction

2011-02-06T14:10:00.000-08:00

Here's a bit of a painting that is simple and spontaneous.

Here is a seriously over worked fragment of painting. Ugh, that mottled wad of tree stuff, and those dirty shadow smudges.

Together now. It's still an overworked messy thing. I do like the colors. Still, I wish I had something better to post. Only one way to fix that. This is a painting of Pasadena's Church of the Angels - a seriously beautiful place.

People in Transit

2011-02-01T21:52:00.000-08:00

I'm not proud of it, but I usually drive myself to work. Last week my car had some alarming symptoms, so I took it in for a look. The following two days, I took public transportation - a nice long uphill walk to Mission Station, a smooth ride on the Gold Line to Union Station, and a bumpy ride on the DASH. The train ride provided great opportunities for sketching people. I'm more than a little self-conscious about sketching people. Here I was able to do it in nearly perfect stealth, as they read their books, talked on their phones, listened to their music, slept, maybe sketched others. I should do this more often.

Alhambra

2011-01-30T15:07:00.000-08:00

Saturday I painted at Alhambra Park. Alhambra Park is easy walking distance from my house, but my painting stuff is pretty bulky, so I drove there. Although I mostly paint in watercolors and probably don't need an easel, I use one anyway. It's a french easel and it's an object of beauty, and the many nuts and bolts by which it is unfolded and folded up again are part of my painting zen.

Alhambra Park has some beautiful trees, including a massive wonderful eucalyptus I had forgotten. Painting that tree as I wanted would have meant painting with the sun in my face. That alone wouldn't have dissuaded me, but I also took an interest in this house (or apartment building) on the other side of the park. It was moving day there. I was going to paint the moving van too, but it left pretty quickly, so I painted the nice shadows in the driveway instead.

I like painting these urban/suburban scenes. They often appeal to me nearly as much as wilderness scenes. A picture like this is much more stuck in time and place than a picture of a forest or ocean. But I don't think that's strictly a bad thing. It's a little tiny slice of human history. A viewer noted that I didn't put much detail in the car. I said I considered the car mostly just in the way, but I did like the way it reflected the sunlight. Simplification.

L A Art Show

2011-01-27T07:39:00.000-08:00

Here is a link to images of the art.

This art show is HUGE. It takes over four hours to walk through on a single pass. There is every kind of visual art. You could literally touch paintings by Renior, Bouguereau, Corot, Gainsborough, Lichtenstein, Wendt, Henri. Why heck, if you had the requisite funds, you could take them home. You can photograph them, you can pluck them off the wall for a better look. No stuffy museum, this. On the other hand, it doesn't provide the optimal viewing experience you might have at a gallery. But seriously, how many galleries can you visit? Because there are all these artworks under the same roof, you can see what really moves you. Do you respond to abstraction, black & white, photo realism, symbolism, thick paint? While a painter's inspiration can come from many corners of the universe or mind, it's great to see what others have done with paint.

Here are two photographs I took right outside the art show - one on the way in and one on the way out. There are not a lot of things that can lure me indoors on a weekend.

Judson Studios

2011-01-22T20:00:00.000-08:00

I called ahead to make sure it was okay for us to paint at the grounds of Judson Studios. I was referred to a gentleman and I left two phone numbers and never heard back. I figured it was okay anyway; I'd poked around there before when they weren't open. It turned out Mr. Judson was home. The most recent Mr. Judson. He didn't run us off, and he didn't make conversation. He just went about his business and left us to ours.

The family has been making stained glass in California for five generations. A hundred years ago, the Judson Studios building was the School of Fine Arts of the University of Southern California. You'd think it would seem like a bigger deal, but it's tucked quietly away in a little corner of Los Angeles.

I painted a quiet little corner of the outside of Judson Studios. I think I did a fairly nice job with the values and colors. I even made a credible stone wall. Oh, if you knew how much I'd struggled with stone walls. I'm sharing some photographs too, to give you the bigger picture and some lovely details of the Judson Studios exterior.

In the afternoon I went to the Los Angeles Art Show. I'm nuts about this event, and might do a whole post about it another day. There, amidst beauties and wonders far too numerous to mention, was a painting by William Lees Judson, the great great grandfather of the man whose wall and plants I painted.

Natives

2011-01-21T07:58:00.000-08:00

One of my holiday gifts in 2009 was a pair of California Bush Sunflower plants, Encelia californica. They were captured somewhere around Long Beach under the supervision of the Los Cerritos Wetlands Stewards, and transported in gallon containers. They tried to make a go of it on my front porch, but clearly they yearned for the freedom of open land. So eventually I planted them in my gardens, one in the back and one in the front. They climbed and spread a bit, and now finally they are starting to bloom. These are not huge sunflowers, but they are of a respectable size and beautiful, and they belong here. I don't believe I'll ever go entirely native in my planting, but I think it's important to foster our native plants, especially as we lose more and more of the natural habitats of our native birds and bugs.

You can see from the photo that something has already snacked on the edges of the flower petals. I'm okay with that. I think it makes a pleasing fringe. My personal theory of gardening is that a garden becomes healthier and better with each living thing that occupies it. My principles were only a little strained when a baby grasshopper polished off my basil.

Wild Sycamores

2011-01-15T23:17:00.000-08:00

I was saddened by the news that a 13 acre native oak woodland in Arcadia was razed last week to become a basin for debris from the Santa Anita Dam. In homage I decided to paint close to the site today in Wilderness Park. The oak trees were unwilling to pose for me, but I found a likely stand of sycamore trees. It was an incredible warm bright day. The sunshine brought the lizards and flying insects out of their winter torpor.

I don't think I'm a good tree painter. Trees are good vertical elements; their leaves make shapes and splashes of light and color; their bare twigs are calligraphy. I fail to convey the bulk, the solidity and the permanence of the trees. I've rested and feasted in the shade of trees. I've sat and leaned my back against trees, and I have felt how sturdy they are. They are vitally alive and yet silent and still, except when the wind blows through them. Trees are the quiet audience to the hum of nature. Trees are the still and silent witnesses to the frantic passage of human events. That's what I should paint.

Honey Bee

2011-01-11T20:07:00.001-08:00

Could I possibly sing praises that would do justice to bees? I've attempted to paint their praises. Bees provide critical pollination which enables our food to grow. And if that isn't enough, they make sweet honey and beeswax too. There is quite possibly nothing better than a bee. I am fortunate to have a garden that is full of them. They love the blooms on the lime tree, the pear tree, the roses, the passion vine, and the milkweed (shown here.) I love their stripes and their warm summer day buzz. I love my fruit and my flowers. I might want to think that my flowers smell sweet for my pleasure, but really it's all for the bees.

Mission San Gabriel Arcángel

2011-01-08T16:29:00.000-08:00

I chose to paint at this location today, not, as you may imagine, because I was remembering my pastel drawing of years ago (and the prior post.) This is very close to the San Gabriel Fine Arts Association Gallery, where I dropped off paintings today for a plein air show. It's my first painting of the year. I can tell I'm rusty.

There were many fourth graders exploring the Mission today with their parents and their cameras. Little Californians study California history in the fourth grade. The missions are a huge part of California history. The little Californians build models of missions and visit actual missions and take pictures to prove they were there.

After Europeans located California and explored a bit, they set about colonizing it. The Spanish monarchy used Catholic clergy to settle what is now the State of California. The clergy used the native Californians as their workforce and their proselytes. They built and populated several missions. The missions and their land holdings took up a substantial fraction of California, and the rest was claimed for Spain. Approximately fifty years after the American Revolution, Mexico, which included California, won its independence from Spain. Not long after, the United States was looking to expand its territory. In the Mexican-American War, the United States Army conquered what is now California; a treaty at the end of the war secured California for the United States.

The Spanish Colonial influence remains in California, explaining the names of our cities - San Francisco, San Jose, San Diego, and El Pueblo de la Reyna de los Angeles - and our red tile roofs.

Before Me

2011-01-07T07:35:00.000-08:00

My mother painted. My great aunt, my father's Aunt Gertrude, painted. My mother was an advertising copy writer who took up painting as her children started school and became independent. I believe she painted as a youngster as well, because some years ago she gave me a child's book about watercolor painting which her father had inscribed to her. As for Aunt Gertrude, I didn't even know she painted until I was cleaning out my parents house. She was very old when I was very young. She was a retired teacher who brought us books; we stayed at her San Diego home once. She seemed kind of wonderful, but also frightening. There's the story about the maple sugar candy.

This is my mother's painting of our old backyard. The door is to my father's workshop adjacent to the garage. The tree is transplanted, only for the painting, from the left side of the front yard. I don't really recall my mother painting it, but I would guess it was in the 1970s. I like the green shadows on the tile roof, but really I love this painting because it has memories of both my parents and the old house all rolled into one.

This, also by my mother, I think is an earlier painting. We had a magnolia tree on the parkway strip in front of our house. I think I'd like to paint magnolias myself sometime; they are fascinating flowers with great shadows. I'm also particularly fond of blue pottery.

This is signed by my Great Aunt Gertrude. On the back of this painting is written "1930 Windy Day" and on the back of the frame, "No. 58 Torrey Pines" It looks like the frame was originally wired to hang vertically, so perhaps this isn't Torrey Pines. I think the trees are eucalyptus. The frame is obviously hand carved; I wouldn't be surprised if Aunt Gertrude made the frame too.

On the back of the dish, painted in a fine careful hand is "GE to AEF 1916." Alice Evans Field was my paternal grandmother. 1916 would have been right around the time she married my grandfather.

I didn't take dancing lessons as a child. My lack of physical grace should be readily apparent. I didn't take piano. I had art classes early on. There was one class I was almost too young to remember at the Pasadena Museum, which is now the Pacific Asia Museum. It was a modern art museum then, and I think the class was an uninstructed workshop with buckets of paint and boards to paint on. I painted two by fours. There was another class given by Mavis (last name forgotten) who owned Mission Art Supplies at its former location; we made pastel drawings of the San Gabriel Mission. My parents encouraged my creative flair. The things I remember impressed them most were these: I could make circles on my Etch-a-Sketch; I could draw Alvin (the chipmunk) from memory, and I did a drawing of a little girl with her Christmas presents that showed her face turned down and her head foreshortened in an apparent attempt at accuracy. I think my parents just loved art and people who tried to make it.

Between Raindrops

2011-01-02T21:41:00.000-08:00

It's a new year. It seems to be off to a good start. I've made some resolutions. One is to draw everyday. Nothing really lovely has come of it yet, but you'll be the first to see anything worth showing off. There are lots of really nice bugs in my yard now, so many I couldn't possibly ever paint them all, so I might as well share some pictures. I'm especially happy to report that I have several of the monarch butterfly children I wished for here.

A Bear

2010-12-27T22:31:00.001-08:00

This is the bear for Wilderness Art Challenge. I've wanted to try painting a bear for a long time. Before that, I wanted to purchase a painting of a bear. I was especially fond of bears by Scott Switzer. My particular interest in bear images dates back to our family trip to Alaska, where my two sons and I had a pretty close encounter with a bear. Not a grizzly but a black bear. We were taking a nature walk watching the salmon swim up to spawn and everything else wonderful. When this bear lumbered onto the path right in front of my older son. Behind him was my other son, then me, followed by a little boy who belonged to someone else. The bear stopped and seemed to be watching us. In perhaps my least maternal move ever, I started to slowly back away. I don't think abandonment was my plan, but the facts are as I tell. Well, the bear didn't eat my sons, or the other little boy either. It moved along and splashed into the water. After his pulse recovered, my son regretted not getting a picture. He bought a little toy bear at the gift store, and it became his totem. And we reenacted our adventure for my husband and others. I was not the hero.

Card and a Thought

2010-12-23T11:14:00.000-08:00

I wanted to create something with an idea, rather than render life or some other source material. So really I'm rather proud of this, although I don't know if it works to convey the idea. It's a thought bubble, with a light bulb to represent an idea, only instead of an ordinary light bulb, it's a Christmas light bulb. Because the idea is about Christmas. The idea is let's celebrate; let's decorate; let us adorn our trees, our houses and our food. Let us be demonstrative in our affection. Let us be generous in our giving and effusive in our thanks. Let us sing loud and be merry. Let us be reflections of our Creator who gave us this magnificent world and our brilliant lives and the sweet gift of a baby born on Christmas morning.

As a painting, it is a little disappointing. I wasn't really sure if I wanted the background as an even wash. One thought was even to make it a forest. But I think what I have is a little messy and indecisive, and it has the ghost of an eraser mark. I think If I'd experimented more with placement, I might have found a better composition. I do like the light bulb though, and it's running watercolor glow.

I'm submitting this for the Calypso Moon Artist Movement challenge. But of course, it's for you too. Merry Christmas, from the bottom of my John Pike palette and my heart.

Blogoversary!

2010-12-19T18:50:00.000-08:00

Cookies are served. I had plenty of help baking and decorating, so I can take little credit for the artistry. My creative passion was poured into the mulled wine.

Interesting editing blunder. Too difficult to sort out. Perhaps too much mulled wine. href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NjCAG8LMwYg/TQ7E_mW6JjI/AAAAAAAAA9w/R4kbehS-ZG4/s1600/Garden.jpg">
Because I haven't received any blogoversary cards (broadly hinting) I borrowed a birthday card I made for my spouse. I haven't told him I borrowed it, which makes it somewhat like stealing. You can wish him a happy birthday, although it would be 17 months late.

He asked me if I knew how many hits the blog had received in a year. I said yes in fact I do. 3,802. Impressive, he said. Not so, said I. It's mostly me.

But to the rest of you, who have become my friends, and those who always were: thank you for making this such an excellent adventure.

Christmas Past

2010-12-15T22:52:00.000-08:00

From the time I was in my teens up until my thirties, I made Christmas cards every year. I'd do a design and then get several printed and mail them to friends near and far. I didn't stop when I had children, but it became more sporadic, in fact rather rare. Also, I had an interfaith family, which called for interfaith holiday cards. That wasn't too big a challenge. There are consistent themes of peace, light, miracles, and the enormous abundant generosity of God. Or I could do a collage with pictures of my beautiful children and the pets. It wasn't so much that children took up all my time; I think it was just that my holiday celebration priorities changed. Being Santa Claus was a very challenging job. These are a couple of old card designs, on slightly yellowed paper. I may try to find some more of these. I have a suspicion about where they are. These two are among my favorites. Sometimes when I look older artwork of mine, I'm struck by the difference between then and now. I think I may be a more proficient draftsman; I'm certain my materials are better. But the old stuff seems more imaginative, more creative. I think the reason may be that I've needed to become much more practical and all the extra capacity that requires of my brain has pushed my imagination out of the way. I'm going to try to exercise my imagination more. I'm not sure how to exercise an imagination, so let me know if you have any ideas.

In My Own Backyard

2010-12-12T01:39:00.001-08:00

Today the paint-out location was my backyard. It was a beautiful day. I'm pleased with my painting. This is the view looking beyond the yard to the north. It's uncanny how much it really looks like this. It was very interesting and fun to see other painters' takes on my yard. I'm kicking myself for not taking photographs.

Life on the moon? I thought that's what it looks like. Really, I just very desperately need to clear out the porch light.

Finally here's green lynx spider with its egg sack. Life is wonderful. I have fallen a bit behind on the Christmas preparations.

What I Learned

2010-12-09T23:57:00.000-08:00

I completed my oil painting class with Timothy Tien. Here are my remaining paintings from the class, and notes from my recollection of what I learned. In the order they popped into my head. I need to practice with oils, but I think the class was very helpful. I am more aware now when I look at things and when I paint them. I will continue to make the same mistakes, but I will recognize them and learn from them, until good design and painting principles are like breathing.

Design and composition are most important. It doesn't matter what the painting is. It may be an abstract, and the same principles will apply.
A triangle is a good design - if lines and shapes in the painting make a triangle, it will help it be a good design.
There should not be big solid unvaried shapes, unless you want them to be the most important thing in the painting.
Shapes can be broken by variations in value and temperature as well as lines.

The painter should relocate elements to improve the design.
Know why you place elements where you place them and what affect it has on the composition.
Patterns of dark and light are important because they are most visible. Squint your eyes and lay them in first.
Artists draw shapes with straight lines because it helps to give them direction and locate the planes for light and shadow areas and highlights.

Contrasts are important - light & dark, warm & cool, large & small, horizontal & vertical.
Things in the painting should not be equal.
It doesn't matter what your subject is. What you paint won't always interest you; it is your job to make it interesting.
You should know what the most important thing in your painting is. It might be an object or a group of objects or a shadow or the foreground. It is what you want the viewer to look at. It is the story that your painting is about.
Colors have the most intensity when you look directly into them. If they are in the periphery of your view, they will seem less intense. The important thing in the painting should have the most intense color.

You are limited by the paint on your palette. You can't paint anything lighter than white or more intense than your pure color.
Start finding your colors with the most intense color; everything else will key off of that.
It is the relationship between the colors rather than the individual colors that you are painting. Look at the interplay between your colors, even as you mix them on the palette; try them next to each other.
Test the background color in different parts of the painting. It should make objects appear to come forward. The background and background objects define the edges of the objects in front.
It is oil paint. You can cover anything.

In a Canyon

2010-12-05T08:19:00.001-08:00

The painting conditions were good yesterday. Mostly it was cool and still, with moments where the wind picked up and bit my bare hands and made idle threats of rain. It was a California Art Club paint-out and I also directed my small group of Saturday painters to Eaton Canyon. I met new painters - new to me that is; I'm sure some of them have been painting for a long time. It was a fine time. By the way, if any of my art blogger friends want to paint out with me, because you are close by or stopping through the Los Angeles/Pasadena, CA area on a Saturday, let me know. How great would that be?

I painted a scene with a sycamore tree and rocks. I go back and forth on this painting. I think it has some good technique, but also some obvious blunders. It's challenging to paint layers of trees and shrubs and grasses. Shapes are amorphous and colors undifferentiated. I'm going to spend some time looking at successful watercolor landscapes for new ideas on how to attack it. I'm also going to go back to using the oils sometimes, having completed my oil painting class. More on that later.

Reflections

2010-12-04T00:22:00.000-08:00

I found this picture this week along with other stuff from my student days. I have a few paintings old and new to photograph and post. This I thought would be good for a post called reflections. But in fact I'm not sure I'm reflecting now. Really I'm thinking of what to do next. What to do with my painting, my free time, my life, what is left of my evening.

This is me, from the knees down, in the bathtub of my youth. I spent a lot of hours there, observing the still water with its pale aqua color (not shown here), and the remarkable reflection that appeared to double the number of my toes.

Paparazza

2010-11-25T08:55:00.000-08:00

My car was stopped at the rail crossing at California just west of Arroyo Parkway where there is a car wash. I think these people are waiting for their cars to be washed. The man sits. The woman has picked up a few things she needed at Trader Joe's. I like the way the light hit the woman. I like her efficiency and her cool boots. I like how you can barely see the child, and yet you know she is an adorable little girl, sprite-like in her own boots. Although you can see the man's face (not too well painted), he is less interesting because he is just sitting and the light isn't shining on him.

I painted this for the Calypso Moon Artist Movement challenge,Painting History,and I'm glad I did. Happy Thanksgiving, painters and pilgrims.

What it isn't

2010-11-21T15:36:00.000-08:00

I went out yesterday for my weekly dose of painting. It was raining. I was going to paint from the shelter of the band shell at Memorial Park, but there were people there already who needed the shelter a lot more than I did.

I wound up not painting. I did walk around and take photographs, which is almost always my first step. That was a far as I got. I don't regard myself as an art photographer. But I liked some of shots I got yesterday, not as prospective paintings, but as interesting images as they are.

Milkweed Bug

2010-11-16T21:04:00.001-08:00

This is an interesting study in bug identification. I used to think these were harlequin bugs. Because I knew there was such a thing, and I thought these looked somehow very harlequin-like. But then I learned that harlequin bugs were something else. So I went to some lengths to identify these based on their appearance. I tentatively determined they were box elder bugs. But they aren't. They're closely related, but I don't have box elder, and these guys live in and on the milkweed. I could have just googled "red black bug milkweed." Or not even googled "milkweed bug." My son just called them f*** bugs, because of their very pronounced reproductive drive. This happens to be the same sort of bug that's on the cover of the Kaufman Field Guide to Insects of North America.