Tryst

Just completed this painting... large format for me (40" x 30"). I was surprised at how much I enjoyed working larger... it did prompt me to go online and order a few more larger brushes!

I got the idea for the image when I obtained my own bike several weeks ago. Naturally, I have not used it as much as I thought I would, but am glad to know it is there, and ready. Even at the time I was buying my bike, I found myself wishing I could find more models that were designed like the bikes I was familiar with from my childhood: complete with fenders! They have these retro models today, of course, but as I thought about what I wanted from the bike, and considered that I would not be storing it indoors until after the season, I decided to go with the modern, "stripped down" model.

Once I approached this painting, though, I knew I had to outfit it with the fenders... which made for a challenge, since the "model" for the bike was my own... so I searched online for images of bikes with fenders... and of course could find none that were in the position I wanted, etc... this is the usual process I pursue for my paintings. I get the idea, fix on it, THEN look for ways to set up a reference for it! It is truly amazing that I get anything done at all...

I am pleased with how this came out, ultimately. I like the "story" it hints at... possibly not the same story for every viewer? And despite my cringing initially at the prospect of rendering the perspective on the wheels of the bike, I think it came out pretty convincing. I decided to leave out the wheel spokes and gear/brake wires in the interest of keeping things simple and clean... I am also pleased with the way I handled the sand. I did it with a palette knife... I have used a knife in rendering beach sand in other works, but none so completely as on this one. And finally - as I got ready to sign it, I decided my signature just had to look like it had been written in the sand... what do you think?

Abbey Road

Here is a painting I just completed... once again, from a cell phone photo taken on one of my daily walks on the beach. These little birds - "peeps" the locals call them... although I think they are formally a type of Sandpiper - are ubiquitous along the water's edge. Especially on the part of the beach (South Beach, south of Lighthouse Beach here in Chatham) that was created as part of a "break" in a sandbar several years ago. When I walk this area, I experience it as a series of sand islands surrounded by very shallow surf. Whole flocks of these birds cavort on the wet sand, seemingly chasing the shallow surf as it moves in and out... apparently catching something delectable enough of the time to reinforce their game of tag!

So, I got a number of photos of these guys... including one where these four were all lined up, just like the eponymous album cover. So I couldn't resist the title... And in this image, they are walking, as I walk every day on this beach, which is of itself, something of a miracle.

Every day as I walk I look and am awestruck by the ocean, including its many faces - smooth, mirrored, rolling, rough, covered with patches of foam; and its many colors - blues, greens, violets, golds; and its voice - rhythmic, soothing, roaring... as well as what it does for all life forms.

It occurs to me that, although it has not been a long time, that I have been taking these beach walks, spending time every day, side by side with the ocean has already had a nourishing effect on me, in a way every bit as much as on these little peeps. I feel that when I started these walks, I was somewhat shriveled and brittle, like a sponge without water. But Water relaxes me, as it does a dried sponge, filling me up, making me softer and more supple. The ocean satiates my senses and rejuvenates my spirit. It awakens me from my trance, imposed upon me by years of focusing almost exclusively on the insensible man-made world.

Faithful Tender

I completed this painting a couple of days ago. I had come upon this old-style (wooden) dinghy on one of my beach walks. This time, a walk along the beach at the end of our street, which follows the Oyster River as it dumps into Stage Harbor. At one point, this beach is directly across another one of my favorite subjects, Stage Harbor light (a private lighthouse owned by our next door neighbors). The dinghy was resting half way between that point and the boathouse at Port Fortune Lane (the small structure visible at the left). I was struck by a few things: first, the fact that it is in fact a wooden boat... most I come across are fiberglass or some other modern material. The other was the way the sun was striking its bright, lovingly painted interior and casting a strong shadow on the beach. So... I pulled out my trusty cell phone and snapped a couple of pictures. (This was before my vow to carry my watercolor kit and sketchbook... :-))

The photo I took was almost entirely of the dinghy and its immediate vicinity, I did not include any sky. I decided on a composition with a large sky area featured, to balance the dramatic boat, so I waited to start on this painting until I had a chance to go out on that beach again, in the afternoon, as had been the case in the original picture. At that time, I took a photo of the sky and made a quick sketch with notes when I came home. Then I was ready to start. I did a quick thumbnail of the composition, then went right to the canvas.

As I always do, I started by painting a monochrome underpainting to the level of a complete "drawing" with fairly well developed detail, and clearly stated lights, darks and midtones. I use the "wipe-out" method to get the lights, use colored ground of the canvas as the mid tones, and added darks using more of the chosen monochrome color.

Because of the dominance of the blue sky in this image, I wanted an orange toned ground, so I chose chose Transparent Red Oxide as the color for the underpainting. This is a pretty "fat" paint, so not ideal to use for an underpainting (both because it takes longer to dry, and also because it jeopardizes the "fat over lean" principal for creating stable paintings. I used Winsor and Newton's Griffin Alkyd Fast-Drying Oil Paint to get around these problems. As with many work-arounds, of course, this presented its own challenges: Griffin Alkyds dry fast, alright - so fast that they dry substantially just sitting in the paint tubes! irritatingly tough to get out of the tube in the first place, they aren't smooth and buttery to apply, either... I may experiment with Acrylics in the future, as I doubt that I will buy the Alkyds again.

Meanwhile, however, the underpainting came out serviceable enough... and I was pleased with the base created. One I started the actual painting, I worked on the sky first, putting on three thin coats of blue (an ultramarine mix at he top, shifting to cobalt then cerulean mixed with Zinc white and pink at the horizon) before I added the cloud forms.

Once that was done, I painted the background land mass and structures, painting directly. I also laid in the base for the water. I painted the dinghy and the foreground beach and grass, also directly, at which point the water mass was dry enough to accept some final glazes. I painted the foreground sand mostly with a knife, leaving some of the base ground to show.

I think I am happy with it... I say "I think" because usually I need to look at and reflect on a work for quite a while before I decide if it is "right." I probably make changes less than 25% of the time, but the need to go through this stage is nagging. I plan, however, to take this over to my gallery next week, so I have to condense my reflections this time... what do you think, is it finished?