To practice for my first plein air festival this Saturday in Chestnut Hill, I went out with all of my gear to see if I could paint a 16 x 12 inch painting in one day. What happens at a plein air festival, you ask? Essentially, a few dozen artists will all paint outside at the same time and a judge will award prizes to the best work produced. We will have about 4-5 hours before judging. This sounds like plenty of time, but this painting took me three refills of my parking meter (in all 6 hours) to complete...and I still got a ticket*!!! Lessons learned: paint smaller (or faster) and park in a lot! *Note: Chestnut Hill parking enforcement personnel have a superhuman ability to write tickets the very second your meter expires.
0 Comments
My next door neighbor in back in Mt. Airy had some peonies by her front step. I relished watching the incremental progress these plants made each day while I walked past them on my way to teaching high school English. I knew that by the time these flowers bloomed, the school year would be cruising toward the finish line. Ant Peony I is the first in a series, inspired by my own peonies in my front yard. I hope I'm not alone in this, but I find it so entertaining to watch insects and plants symbiotically interacting. I also finally pulled out my large sheets of 300 lb watercolor paper. This painting is pretty large, 24 x 18 inches and I submitted it to a regional juried exhibition...I hope it gets in! Like most, I am charmed by the Blue Jay's color and size. It's the second largest and second most colorful bird at our feeder. This Blue Jay has been visiting at about 6:40 am. He or she (male and female look the same) was even polite for a moment when waiting for another bird to finish at the suet feeder.
My kids both learned a lot about birds in their preschool class. They have often repeated one message to me whenever they see a Blue Jay. "Mom, you know they eat baby birds. They're mean." While they usually make their presence known with a signature call that isn't exactly pretty, when I became acquainted with this courteous Blue Jay I began to wonder if they deserve the bad rap. With a little research I found out. The answer is yes. Blue Jays are related to Crows and both eat meat, like other bird meat. Yikes! Who knows, maybe the suet in this Blue Jay's belly saved some other little bird's life! Goldfinches are normally a very rare sight in our yard. Once or twice over the last two years, the kids and I have seen one fly through. So, the fact that one came to our bird feeder on Monday (and it returned briefly yesterday!) is very exciting news. Could it be related to the fact that we "adopted" a goldfinch through the Audubon Society as a Mother's Day gift the day before? I don't know, but sometimes the universe does work in mysterious ways.
This sketchbook page is a part of a new art habit that I hope to continue. I have about 25 pages left in the book to use for a daily practice of capturing animals and plants in my yard. I was brainstorming with my son about starting a project to document all of the flowers in our yard, and he replied, "Well, you and dad better stop planting new ones then." Very sharp he is. Each sketch teaches me a tremendous amount. It channels my attention to detail, whether its the markings on a bird that tell its gender, subtle differences in a flower species or a plant's leaf shape. Details help refine google searches, thereby opening a wealth of information. Field guides help too! In the meantime, this practice helped me to celebrate the "nest warming" of my new neighbor. I hope I can spot her again real soon. Here I go. As I embark on this kid lit adventure, I find it to be so satisfyingly challenging. Not only does it involve writing and art making, but it also requires a deeper synthesis of details than either of those two activities compels by itself.
In 1879, John Muir visited Glacier Bay, Alaska for the first time. He was accompanied by Native Tlingit men and a missionary. To envision this historical narrative I've needed to dive into another world, informed by historical resources (both primary and secondary) and images. In August, I will return to Alaska myself with eyes wide open to fill my story idea with the spirit and the feeling of the place. I can't wait! Yesterday, my new en plein air pro traveler easel arrived. It is amazing! My range has extended considerably since it fits into a backpack. Before, I needed to lug around a heavy easel so I never went beyond a 50 yard radius from my car or house. Now, the sky's the limit!
The weather today brought me back to Morris Arboretum, this time to the part called "English Park" for its more open spaces and this fountain built in 1915. The water flows down the central set of steps, creating a unique water flow and giving this fountain the name Step Fountain. A bird happened to fly by as I was setting up my composition, just asking to be included. Can you see him? Have you ever done yoga? Then you should know about B. K. S. Iyengar, the Indian who is largely responsible for bringing yoga to America. He wrote a book titled Light on Yoga, which inspired me to make a daily practice of yoga over 10 years ago and I'm still going strong most days. Well, it turns out that this sculpture by Robert Engman is an abstract portrait of this very yogi, who gave a presentation at Morris Arboretum the day this sculpture was dedicated in 1978. Three circles and a square interlock in a way that suggests movement and balance. A second casting of this sculpture is at the Hirshorn Museum in Washington, DC. I'll leave you with memory of today's sunshine... to help you through tomorrow's extreme weather. Even more interesting than the trunk of this tree, called a Dawn Redwood or Metasequoia, is its history.
I suppose it could even be considered native to Pennsylvania since fossils prove it once thrived here on the continent of North America back in the Miocene Era. (Yep, that's over 5 million years ago when global temperatures were a lot warmer than they are today.) However, this tree's seed comes from China. In 1947, a Harvard scholar brought to the U. S. and Europe about 4 pounds of seeds from a single tree, called "Shui-sa" or Water Fir, that was discovered in south western China. When discovered, this tree was already revered by the local rural population with a shrine and botanists dubbed it a "living fossil" since the tree was believed to be long extinct. This tree that I painted today at Morris Arboretum was planted in 1948. It's about to turn 70 and I am pretty sure that its seed was among that first batch that came to the United States and was distributed to arboretums and other institutions. It made lovely shade to sit in as I worked. This chance encounter exhibits many personal layers. The first one is the choice I made to climb very high in this tree at four years old. I recently found a photo dated AUG 1979 and it shocked me how young I was way up there (though the bowl cut should have given that away!) Today, as a parent this makes me very nervous, but back then I had no fear and apparently some strong climbing skills. My choice to have that cute (huge) little bee in the image has more to do with a fascination I honestly developed as an adult. As a child I was as freaked out as the next kid about yellow jackets, but I wonder if I would have warmed up to a nice chunky, slow-flying bumble bee. The two together fit a prompt that I decided to follow for a monthly online gallery hosted by SCBWI, the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators, called Draw This. (The link currently shows last month's gallery which I am in.) This month's prompt is "surprise." Hey! It's spring break here in my township so school is out... all week. Needless to say, my studio time has taken a hit but it's been replaced by some time with my kids where I have really had a chance to see how they've grown! Part of the secret to our success has admittedly been the amazing weather we have been having. This first painting is of our new favorite spot at Morris Arboretum...next to the stream and under the weeping cherry trees. We spent an hour there on Monday. The weather has also brought many customers to my son's lemonade and sweet tea stand that he has been managing everyday all week from about 4-5pm. Notably, I also got a new pen, a Pentel color brush, which I bought at the new art store in Chestnut Hill that I finally found last Saturday. It's pretty awesome, both the pen and the store. (And if you are looking for the store, it's called Artist & Craftsman Supply and it is on Germantown Ave, a bit south of Willow Grove Ave, down an alley and in a courtyard.) I've never posted two images in one week, but due to the split vote from my children I am including both paintings I finished today. This second painting features my daughter's terrarium, named Hobette, and three mini figures from my imagination. It is agreed among the kids that Caitlyn is the figure on the left, Dylan is hanging from the rope, and the third figure is Dylan's friend Barry who spent the day at our house today. I can't say that I consciously intended this connection to our day, but I do know that the idea of small people inhabiting these terrariums that I love has been floating in my mind for quite a while. Maybe it is the beginning of something... Back in the 1900s, my husband and I lived in Washington, DC. Not together. In fact we hadn't met yet. A little over a week ago, we took our kids to see the Cherry Blossoms there. (This lovely sparrow came so close to us!) It may have been the first time either my husband or I made it to the Tidal Basin in time to see them at the height of their bloom. Inevitable whining aside, isn't it crazy how thrilling it is to (re)discover the world with our children? |
Little Bee:
|