Out of the Rain

You will recall a couple of Saturdays ago it was raining. I had to paint indoors. I wasn't sure I liked what I painted, but now I've lived with them for a couple of weeks and decided they're all right. These are fast little sketches done from some photographs which may or may not one day be larger and more time-consuming paintings. The rooster is one I watched at Heritage Square. L A City Hall with the palm trees is a daily weekday morning sight as I proceed south on Los Angeles Street toward my workplace.

I'm very fond of the City Hall. It reminds me of being a child and watching television that included Superman and Dragnet. It reminds me of riding in my father's car on the way to my grandfather's house or the beach. That's just for starters. I recently noticed how very similar it looks to the Nebraska State Capitol building, built a few years before it, obviously also in the 1920s. Except Nebraska has a dome on the top and we have a pyramid. I cropped the painting extensively, because I made a mess of the sky.

Technology and Nature

I went to paint at Cal Tech today, but I forgot something to paint on. Arguably, one could paint on just about anything, but I didn't. I took some photos and notes and painted later at home. Not before I walked around and took dozens of pictures.
I took quite a few pictures of this beautiful egret that was fishing for food in some pools. It was not bothered by me.

And I was quite enamored with its white feathers and yellow feet.

Then I noticed this big silent bullfrog


Finally, I noticed this: a bit beaten up by a lawnmower,but still a four leaf clover. I didn't pick it. No reason to press my luck.

Dragon

This is part in honor of the year of the dragon, and part an attempt at to paint something taken more from imagination than, say, a real dragon. The form of this dragon is loosely inspired by an old Japanese woodcut. The color is inspired by sun conures (really beautiful little parrots.) I'd like to say more about dragons, but I'm fairly ignorant of the subject. It could use a story.

Changes

Well, the rain kept me from going out and painting today. I did a couple of indoor paintings, but I'm not sure I like them enough to share. Here's something good though. It's my second year (or maybe my third) of monarchs in my yard. I don't think there are more necessarily, but I keep getting better at spotting them - the little eggs on the leaves, the tiniest striped caterpillars, and the places they undergo their very remarkable transformation.

Gamble

Pasadena loves its craftsman homes, probably this one best of all. It was designed outside and inside by Charles and Henry Greene. Charles Greene, I read, wanted to be a watercolor painter, and was disappointed when his father pushed him into architecture. Parents often know best. You can take a tour of the Gamble House and look at some of the most beautiful woodwork ever and hear endlessly about lifting cloud motifs. You can wander freely about the grounds.

Knowing R. J.

This is less postcardish than the last few paintings. This is a view from Bailey Canyon Park in Sierra Madre, looking across Carter and south to the lowlands. I kind of expected to paint trees when I headed up to Bailey Canyon Park, but the ravages of November's winds are still very apparent there. I saw plenty of downed trees and plenty of stumps. There was a lot less shade to be had as well. Challenging painting conditions because of the speed at which the paint dried. I liked the image of the morning sun bathing a roof top with the blue expanse of distance beyond. Since I believe painting is an intimate act, I think I should know something about what I paint. I was able to learn that Bailey Canyon was named for R.J. Bailey, a homesteader who didn't stick around long. Nothing more than that. I don't know who the roof belongs to either.

Here's a treat, and I only wish I could have gotten closer and focused better. This is an acorn woodpecker. There are several that I think live in palm trees to the south of me. They come and get peanuts that I put out in the morning. They've gotten used to me over the past few years and don't seem so shy any more. I think they might be an extended family group; they work cooperatively to chase jays and crows away from the nuts. Hang in there, woodpecker.

Churchgoing

As I may or may not have mentioned, I'm not too much of a church-goer at this time in my life. This church, Holy Family, is as close to being my church as any church I guess. They send me collection envelopes. You'll probably find me here on Christmas and Easter. I remember taking one of my reluctant sons to church here week after week, and he would complain about how long an hour is. And I'd say, look around at all the wonderful things God has done for you, and an hour a week just doesn't seem like much to give. But I feel slightly less certain now, about God, and what we can give God. And how long an hour is. Many of us go through these changes. I think there is ultimate and absolute truth, and we cannot know what it is. I think faith is a marvelous and powerful thing that doesn't necessarily reflect truth. This is obvious; people believe different things.

I think churches are beautiful. I love buildings, and there's nothing more lovely than a building built to honor the creator of us all.

I'm reasonably happy with the painting. It's a little smaller, and small paintings go much more quickly. I thought it looked a little washed out, like somebody had already hung it in the sun for several years.

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

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

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.