Pigeons in the Park

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

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

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

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

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

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.

. . .

My Turn

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

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

Duck

Duck feather

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