BLOG about PAINTING

Well, we left Victoria last Tuesday. The crossing on the Coho was just great. The water was glassy calm, the sun was shining, and we even saw harbour porpoises frolicking around the boat. What a lovely, relaxing way to start the big holiday.

The drive down to Vashon took quite a bit longer than we expected. The highway was twistier than we anticipated, the distances greater, and the ferry more time-consuming - mainly because at 'rush hour' it goes to Vashon via Fauntleroy and therefore takes at least 40 minutes. None of that mattered since we were pretty chilled out just getting on the road. When we arrived, we found a delightful little house and three sweet animals. A friend of the owner came and showed us the ropes, then left us to enjoy our first night on Vashon,

Since then, we've got to know the animals: Stewart, the old, somewhat creaky, rescue mutt who is a real dear; Nicholas, the 18-year old, rather skittish but once relaxed, loving, ginger kitty; and Herald, the 11-year old scruffy purring furball. We've been out on several great walks with Stewart, though we have to be careful not to exhaust him. This morning we went back to our favourite spot - Jensen Point and Burton Forest. It was very windy, though warm. I tried doing a quick sketch of the harbour, even as the gusts kept blowing my paper around. Boy, am I out of painting practice!!

Well, we've done it. We've sold our house and most of our possessions, and we're going to take a year to travel. The hardest part of doing this was clearing out most of my art studio. As well, since we'll be carting our life with us, I've had to whittle down the supplies I'll be taking with me. After the fun of working with oil pastels again this past winter, I would have loved to bring them along, but they're just too bulky and heavy. So, watercolours it is - in the form of a very small travel kit and a couple of travel brushes.

Our international travelling has yet started, but for the past few weeks we've been staying in the suite at our good friends' place in Metchosin. It's not too shabby as you can see. Here's the view from the window:

I've been managing to do some painting - either by working outside or by limiting my time in the studio. As well, any time I am in there, I keep the fan going and the window open. So far, so good (fingers crossed).

I did a 12 X 12 of one of my favourite subjects, fawn lilies.

Oil on plaster on board

12 in. X 12 in

I'm not totally unhappy with the result. It does convey that glow that the lilies seem to have against the green and brown of their spotted leaves. However, it's less 'painterly' than, say, the Bergenia or the pitcher plants. Those paintings were as much about the paint as they were about the image.

Onward and upward: I felt the need to do something a bit bigger. (It's tough watching artist friends post images of BIG pieces, anywhere up to 72 X 108, and then look at my tiny little efforts...) Also, I have these 12 X 48 panels that my husband made me when we were back in Nova Scotia. (It's a very horizontal world back there.)

I started by doing a layout on paper. It's always a good idea to work out some thumbnails ahead of time; the best paint handling in the world won't save a bad composition. Then I drew it onto my panel and blocked in the large areas. It's ready to go. And I'm terrified. I want this one to be loose like the Bergenia, but that means just going for it, and damn the amount of paint it takes.

So, damn the amount of paint it takes. We'll see what happens. After all, it's just a painting, right?

Well, it happened again. I painted for a few days and then got a migraine. This after we put in the time, effort (my darling husband) and money installing an exhaust fan in the studio in the hopes that it would eliminate the problem. The good news is that the headache wasn't as bad, nor did it last as long as the previous painting-induced migraines. The bad news is that it still kept me out of the studio for over a week - recovering and then screwing up my courage to risk it again. I had to finish this last piece:

I did that today. It's not as loose and layered as the previous ones, especially the Bergenia, because the painting had dried in between coats. (I much prefer to do it all at one go or to put successive layers onto still-tacky under layers. You get much more interesting paint-on-paint effects that way. For me, the 'paint' and its tactile qualities are just as important as the image.)

It may be my last oil. I can't pretend any longer that there isn't a link between the oils and the migraines. Yes, I should be able to paint en plein air and get away with it, but then how do I dry the paintings and do any touching up without dragging the problem back into the studio. Should I just bite the bullet, admit that I can't paint in oils any more, and get on with learning how to do things in acrylic? Yes, I don't like acrylics. Yes, they may also turn out to be a problem. But what is the alternative? Being able to paint for only very short stretches of time and risking a migraine at that? If I want to PAINT, then I'm simply going to have to change something. Tough, tough decision. Sigh.

I'm working on small representational paintings again, especially since the colours in the spring flowers and native plants are so gorgeous. I'm pretty happy with these two latest pieces. (But then, my favourite painting is always the most recent...)

Bergenia - Oil on board, 8 in. X 8 in.

Evergreen Huckleberry - Oil on board, 8 in. X 8 in.

We've just installed a new exhaust fan in the studio, and I'm very slowly trying out painting again. I'm hoping and praying that this time, it will be OK. (If I get a migraine with this set-up, I'll have to finally accept that I can no longer paint with paints.)

It's still too cold to do field paintings, so I've gone back to doing colour studies. Using the star pieces from last fall as underpaintings, I'm just throwing around colour to see what happens.

This one is waaaayyyyy too busy, but maybe it will lead somewhere.

This one is a bit more promising.

And, finally, who knows what's happening with this one. I'm having fun with spring colours - colours that I never get to paint in nature.

Still trying to convey the weeping willow - now with fewer branches thanks to the snow.

Still mucking about with the weeping willow. This time, it's in the snow. I started with a watercolour rough-in over a white pastel ground.

Oh boy, this is proving to be a real challenge. Maybe the scale is all wrong. It's just too finicky.

The weeping willow again...

This one is getting closer to what I'm trying to say. It's still very traditional and boring.

Tackling the weeping willow again. Yesterday, I found it hard to make the beautiful yellow-orange shoots stand out and yet be slender as they should be. I tried a new tack today. First, I underpainted the whole piece in yellow-orange. Next I laid in the tree and the background. Then I scratched back through the higher layers to the bright background...

As Robbie Burns had it,

“The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men,

Gang aft agley.

An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,

For promis'd joy!"

Well, my plans went awry all right. That didn't work. So I had to add in the yellow-orange shoots on top of what was already there and ended up with the same problem as yesterday! I went back in and added more background and generally fiddle-farted around and ended up with this:

I can't say it's an improvement. I actually prefer the older one. It was done on red paper, and at least the little bits of paper showing through add some sparkle to yesterday's. This one just looks dull.

Oh, well. I'll just have to keep pushing this image until I get something that I like.