A small commission, with just weeks away...

Given how long it has been since I've posted anything new here at all, I am almost embarrassed to write another "yes I'm still here" post. But here goes! The baby is now less than a month away from her due date and I am finally feeling as if I have gotten our household in some kind of order to prepare for her arrival. Unfortunately, now that I'm getting a little respite from the baby books, the shower, the classes, and prepping the nursery, I am, in this final trimester, also feeling my least energetic and creative. In truth, I don't think I was prepared for just how exhausted I'd feel throughout the pregnancy. But now that I'm getting really big, I can't really seem to do any one thing for very long before I start to feel quite uncomfortable. So needless to say, painting has pretty much taken a back seat during most of my pregnancy, and it's hard to say when that will change to any great extent after the baby comes. However, I do have one new little piece to share. It's a small watercolor/pen and ink painting  (8x10" on 11x14" paper) that a client commissioned to commemorate her daughter's upcoming wedding:

"Flavor of Fagiolari" Watercolor and Pen & Ink on Paper

The scene is of a B&B in the Chianti region, not far from where I myself have traveled a number of times. It's a special place to the betrothed because they met in Italy and stayed at Fagiolari during their travels through Tuscany together.

When I paint from photos, I prefer to work from my own references. I just have a much better feeling for the place if I, myself, have traveled and painted there, and my photos serve as a trigger to call forth those experiences. I also take several different viewpoints of a given scene, plus a number of details, so that I can have as much information as possible when I get to work. So it's always with a bit of reservation when I consider working from a client's photo, which is normally more of a one-off tourist snapshot.

But this commission was actually quite a joy for me. Not only was it great to be doing something in the painting realm again, but the photos provided were excellent. Having also traveled the area fairly extensively myself helped a good deal as well.  Plus I was given much leeway as to how I wanted to interpret them (the photos) and what I wanted to include, rather than being tied to making an exact, literal interpretation  (a.k.a. an illustration) of a scene.

What was most important to the client was that I caputre the "flavor" of the place (hence the painting's title). Luckily, the client was delighted with the finished piece, and I had a good time getting my hands back in some art-making to boot. I tend to feel somewhat more intimidated by watercolors (as opposed to oils) but given its manageable size and the properties of the medium, I was able to stop and start more easily than I can with oils. It's not without reason to think that maybe I can even attempt a few more before "D-day" (or make that B-day) but we'll see. The one thing I can say about my life this past year is that it is anything but predictable!

A Spot of Shade

I can always find something to paint in my own Bellevue neighborhood.  This is a lovely back yard garden down the street from us. I painted this from across the street so as not to be too voyuristic. ;-) :

"A Spot of Shade" Oil on Panel, 10x8" Contact me for purchasing info!

There may be few homes in Bellevue proper that would qualify as sprawling mansions. But what it lacks in that department, it makes up for in beautiful gardens and loads of charm. When my husband and I walk through our 'hood, we always note how lovingly the yards are tended. More often than not, even the smallest bungalow and the most modest yard tends to have some touch of personality to it. It's a special place.

Painting again! Plein air @ Lewis Ginter

Well, I think I am back from my "blog break" now. I even took a brief painting break as well to get some much needed rest and physical therapy for my neck/shoulder/arm troubles. But since I'm, also feeling the need to excercise my "plein air painting muscles" for the upcoming Paint Annapolis event, I'm trying to ease back into outdoor painting again.  Here's a happy little vignette I did this week at Lewis Ginter Botanical Garden:

"Garden Companions" Oil on board, 12x8"

The botanical garden is really gorgeous right now and full of summer blooms. Even so, I had to forgo a lot of really good potential painting opportunities in order to find a spot of shade. The August sun and my fair complexion do not get along for any length of time, so shade is a real must. My painting umbrella does little more than shade my canvas and easel, leaving the rest of me high and dry (or hot and bothered, or whatever!)

I finally managed to tuck myself into a little corner to paint this potted urn surrounded by purple cone-flower, perennial grasses and towering hibiscus. Is it a landscape or a still life? Your call. Any way, it's rather wild and impressionistic. Guess I was happy to be painting again. :-) I'll upload it to the website this weekend, but meanwhile contact me for purchasing inquiries. (Note: It is done. See the link above!)

Sunset on the Sound

I did bring my watercolors with me on our recent anniversary trip to Cape Hatteras, but I really didn't do much in the way of painting, save for this quick and light-hearted attempt below (done when we were sitting on the beach).  It just wasn't that kind of trip.

 

In fact, I even forgot to bring my camera, which is a real rarity for me! In a way it was a shame, because the B& B where we stayed had a fantastic vantage point on the sound, and provided us with some of the most beautiful sunsets we'd seen in a while. In another way, taking a real vacation to just "be", without feeling the need to work, was quite nice and very relaxing (though, believe me, there were times when the views were so compelling that the pull was strong!)

Our room had a view, so we'd sit on our balcony each evening and watch the sun set. I never tire of doing this. You can watch the setting sun from the same spot each evening and yet each time the experience is unique. It's the best show in town, and the sky seems to delight itself in its endless variations.

In the end, it's just as well that I left the camera at home, because the large majority of my amateur snapshots fail to capture the depth of color and the subtler transitions from sky to water. If not painting on the spot, the next best thing is to just sit and observe and to try and commit what I see to memory as best I can. So that's what I did. Once we got home, I painted this little watercolor from memory:

"Sunset on the Sound" Watercolor, 7x10"

Important/ Not Urgent (a long post on the long view)

"Tuscan Patchwork", Oil, 6x8"

Not much painting this week. After briefly traveling to Texas for a long weekend celebrating my mom's birthday (happy 80th Mom!) I returned to spend the week FINALLY tackling the mountain of paperwork I've had on my "to-do" list for some time.

I used to think I was pretty organized in my art business, but lately I feel like I am forever playing "catch up". There was a time during my studio move when I was literally operating out of boxes. But I'm all set up now and I really can't blame my floundering on the move any more. The only explanation I really have to offer is that during my little break from the routine I'd set up for myself, I developed the bad habit of....well....not having a routine!

"White Road in Val d'Orcia", Oil, 6x8"

I recall a conversation I had some time ago with a gallery owner. I was admiring the work of a fellow artist in the gallery and commenting on how much this artist's work had grown and matured. The gallery owner agreed. They were good paintings, and popular with collectors too. If only they could get the artist to give them more work!

As it turned out, the artist had just recently changed from being a part-time painter with a day job to being an artist full-time. Only, this person was anything but, watching movies, surfing the net--doing most anything rather than painting. According to the gallery owner, ironically, once given the luxury of unlimited time, the artist's productivity plummeted. I could understand this.

So many artists I know can so easily get into the habit of working toward deadlines. But when no deadline looms, (no shows, openings, classes or other projects on the horizon) their commitment (and often their work) can languish. I'm sure all working artists with kids and/or day-jobs everywhere are playing the world's tiniest violin in sympathy! But there is something to be said for having externally imposed time limits.

Of course there are many possible reasons why artists don't create (such as emotional constraints brought on by fear, insecurity, depression, etc.) But when I had a day job, I was forced to carve out a finite amount of time in which to do my creative work, and looking back I am amazed at how productive I was. I remember being up until 2 a.m. painting, even after a full day of work at the bank, going to the gym, showering, and scraping together some dinner (I also remember being single then, and younger too!) Of course, I lamented not having more time to paint, but at the same time, my time limitations lit a fire under me to make the most of each window of opportunity.

But once I started working full time at my painting, I, too, languished for a time due to complete lack of structure and many, many distractions around the home studio. Being the ADD sort that has many other interests doesn't help!  What did finally help me was that I began to structure my business in such a way that it set exteral limitations and schedule requirements. But I may have overdone it a bit. I traveled a lot, I maintained a rigorous work schedule to supply work to the 8 galleries I was working with at the time. And when that wasn't enough busy-ness for me, I taught classes, maintained my website and blog, and eventually opened a studio-gallery with montly shows.

But here's the thing. Even though for a while, the money was good and the trips were fun, ultimately this "system" didn't work for me either. Everything was urgent and important, and constantly being in emergency mode was like going from zero to 100 with no brake in between. And you know what can happen when you speed along at 100 miles/hour? Crash. (Of course you can also crash going 20 miles/hour, but it doesn't hurt nearly as much.)

A part of me began to realize what I was doing, so I began eliminating again. Fewer galleries, fewer trips, and eventually letting go of the downtown space and again setting up a home studio. But what I hadn't realized (or had forgotten) was that eliminating  much of the externally imposed deadlines and obligations without creating an internal structure to replace it would leave me feeling more lost and disorganized than "free."

Many of you readers out there are probably familiar with Stephen Covey's book The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. It's become a real classic in the business/success genre, and I'd heard his audio version many years ago but had rather forgotten about it until recently. My favorite part of the book is "Habit 3: Putting First Things First," which includes his famous "Time Management Matrix":

	Urgent	Not Urgent
Important	Quadrant I (crises, deadlines)	Quadrant II (planning, relationships, R&R)
Not Important	Quadrant III(interruptions, some calls, etc.)	Quadrant IV(trivia, busy work, time wasters)

According to Covey, Quadrant II is the place where "successful people" spend the bulk of their time. This Quadrant is filled with proactive things like planning and prevention, as well as growth activities like relationships and recreation (and many creative pursuits!) Instead, Quadrant I tends to be where most people spend their time (crises, deadlines, etc. --AKA emergency mode.) I don't think I'd be too far afield if I said that there are many artists who hang out in this quadrant. I've seen it in myself, and I have known many artists, both professionals and beginners who do not even work at all unless they have an external deadline to work toward (art exhibit, workshop, etc.)

Having externally motivated goals isn't always a bad thing. But, at least for me, it's dangerous if it becomes too much of a habit. In fact, some of us can get so addicted to emergencies (ahem!) that we tend to put off Quadrant II activities until they become Quadrant I activities. And then we get so freaked out and exhausted that we escape to Quadrant IV!

If you're still with me, I'll tell you what all of this Quadrant stuff has to do with art (or at least my art.) Pretty much every goal I have as an artist and as an individual has associated tasks that can ideally be categorized as a Quadrant II activities-- from health goals like proper diet, exercise and adequate sleep, to artistic goals like x number of plein air paintings/ week, and things like experimenting with different mediums, subject matter, or techniques. And if the tasks are managed properly from the get-go, they need never become "urgent" Quadrant I's.

Quadrant I stuff happens. Sometimes even in spite of their best efforts, people lose their jobs, get sick, or just plain forget to deal with things. But while not every emergency is predictable or preventable, I am fortunate to be able to say that, at least at this time, many of them are.  I can prevent stress by getting adequate sleep and exercise. I can prevent freaking out before a show or a workshop by planning and/or preparing for it with a calm and steady production flow in advance. I can position myself for success and future opportunities, even if right now business has slowed. For me, the most obvious path to keeping myself focused on important things before they become urgent, is to create a daily schedule that whittles away Quadrant I and includes as many Quadrant II actvities as possible. I've mentioned this before, but here's the key; you gotta stick to it! In short, it's called discipline. And the last time I checked, discipline requires commitment, not just saying "I'll try."

Ultimately the whole art/artist thing wreaks to high heaven of Quadrant II. I'd venture to say that even for those of us who depend on their art sales as their sole source of income, the vast majority of artists are doing their work first and foremost out of love for it. After all, if it were just about the cash, there are many more efficient ways of making more money in less time.

Will we die without being able to create our art? Will others die without being able to experience it? Well, in reality art doesn't have that kind of urgency. But if life is to be truly enjoyed, we have to move beyond merely surviving to thriving, which for me includes being uplifted, challenged, or inspired. That's the benefit of art, and in that way, it is so very important.

p.s. By the way...I did manage to eek out a couple of small Tuscany studies, playing with the idea of pattern. You can now see purchasing details for these and the other two small paintings mentioned in my previous post by clicking here.

French doorways and windows

If anyone were to look at the hundreds of travel photos I've taken, they'd soon see I have a thing for French and Italian doors and windows. Especially in the rural villages, the French and Italians seem to have a thing for them too. They are always so lovingly adorned with fresh flowers and tiny gardens-- along the steps and window sills, and even climbing up the wall. Since I won't be going to Europe this year (  :-( ), I thought I'd celebrate my delight for this charming tradition by armchair traveling (easel traveling?) with a little series on the subject. Here are the first two, both of southern France, both measuring 8x6" (and both soon to be uploaded to my website. Meanwhile, contact me for additional details.)

"Shadow Play," Oil on canvas

"Garland Welcome", Oil on canvas

I may use some of these small works as studies to develop larger pieces. Others may not translate and will remain as little vignettes. Working small is often a nice way to figure out compositional considerations and problem-solve in other areas before tackling something larger, without such great investment of paint and canvas. You'd think with such small paintings, the time investment would be less as well, though unfortunately that ain't necessarily so!

Small figure studies

I haven't written in a while about my return back to the exploration of the figure, but it has been going relatively well. The weekly class I've taken with Robert Liberace has been wonderful, but I must say that the 1.5 + hour commute (each way) has been a little bit of a challenge, and unfortunately I had to miss a class or two in the semester because my car broke down. (That's one of the drawbacks of taking an out of town class--you can't exactly catch a ride if your transportation source goes south!) So while I've felt a little bit disjointed with my schedule glitch, what I've also discovered is that my time in class flies by very quickly, and that my execution with drawing the figure from life is still relatively slow.

Rob did some amazing demonstrations during the course of each class, and I often felt torn about whether I should watch the demos for the duration or work on my own drawings. I tried to acheive a balance of the two as best I could, but since my time with Rob was rather limited (and I can hang out with myself most any time), watching Rob's demos often won out. As a result I've ended up with rather a lot of "beginnings," and nothing from this class really has the feeling of a finished work.

But that is the nature of  learning, I think. And whenever  I teach my own workshops I always try to emphasize to students that in a learning environment, the goal of finishing or making a "framable product" should be subordinate to learning and experiementation.

I took a decent amount of figure drawing in college, so I don't consider myself to be a novice. But I'll say without equivocation that this class was definitely experimental for me. In fact, since it's been such a long time since I've done much if any life drawing, in hindsight I might have been slightly cavalier by signing up for this class. Rob has a lot of devoted followers and it became clear to me early on that many of his students (talented in their own right and some also teachers themselves) were quite familiar both with Rob's teachings and with life drawing in general.

I probably would have done well to have first gained a level of comfort by taking an entire semester of a more basic class in just one or two drawing mediums-- charcoal and chalk, for instance-- to really develop my drawing.  The class was called something like "exploring the figure," which is a hint that it was the next stage beyond just fundamentals. And while all along the way we learned about correct proportion and developing mass and form, there was a little more emphasis in this class on exploring different mediums from drawing to painting, which added a whole new level of learning to an already complicated subject.

But neither my car breakdowns nor my cavalier course selection was enough to detract from the class as a whole, thanks wholly to the instructor. I found Rob to be an incredibly energetic, enthusiastic, and helpful instructor. Most of all I found him to be so very inspirational. Beyond his masterful technical acuity, he displays an incredibly beautiful sensitivity and true artistry in his work. So in many ways,  I am glad to have taken this particular class; because not only did it enable me to see the range he is able to acheive in his own work, but I also could see hints and clues about what is possible for myself.

*Note, scattered throughout this post are a few of my studies from the class. All are pretty small--ranging from 4x6" to 8x10". The small gestural studies (short poses from 3 to 7 minutes) were done in sepia ink. The two subsequent pieces were watercolor, and the final piece was a grisaille on linen, done on the last day of class.

Plein air painting in the snow

There's a first time for everything. I actually got outside this morning in the freezing temperatures and painted in the snow. I know, I know. It's done all the time. But I'm from the South, so doing anything....willingly...in frigid temperatures is a real milestone for me. And any way, I can't remember the last time we had a snow storm with any kind of accumulation, so I was determined:

 

"Snowed Under" 10x8" Oil on Multimedia ArtBoard You can purchase this painting directly from me. Contact me for more info.

This is our little crepe myrtle in our back yard. A small, up-close study was about all I could handle this morning. Even staying close to home, this was a challenging experience for me. First off, I didn't consider just how reflective all that snow would be. Initially I set up near my red studio door, but that red bounced all over the place so I had to move. Second, I wasn't prepared for how stiff the paint would get, or how quickly. My quinacridone red froze up so fast--I had to really coax it with some Gamsol just to get it to budge. And third (and I WAS expecting this one) it was damn cold. I did take a few studio breaks because my right hand (the painting hand) became one big painful throb and revolted periodically by losing its grip and dropping brushes.

Any way, I got it done in a little less than 2 hours. I can't say that I'm a convert to painting in freezing weather, but at least I like the little painting. I did find myself wondering why the heck I didn't just paint something from the warmth of my studio, looking out the window. But no.  I HAD to paint that tree from that angle. Well, maybe it's a good thing. As I'm typing this during my lunchtime break, huge chunks of the white stuff are falling off of our little crepe in mini avalanches.

A painting between contractors- St. Cirq La Popie, France

Well, I've stopped fooling myself that I'm going to get away any time soon to work on larger oil paintings. Setting these kinds of impossible goals when we've scheduled back to back contractors for the new studio (painters, hvac, electrician/lighting) just sets me up for frustration. So the last time I stopped by my temporary painting space, I grabbed my watercolors and a few drawing supplies for a little painting at the "kitchen table studio". It's been some time since I've done any watercolor work, so it took me a while to get a feel for it.  But it sure is nice to focus on something other than lighting fixtures, and the great thing about these kinds of pieces is that I can always later develop these compositions into larger oil paintings down the road:

"Private Garden, St. Cirq Lapopie" 9x12", Watercolor and Conte Crayon

I had the thrill of driving to the beautiful village of St. Cirq Lapopie (St. Cirq is pronounced something like "San Seer") at the tail end of my trip earlier this year to the Lot and Dordogne in southwestern France. It was a thrill because it was a breathtakingly beautiful location; but as well because my rental car felt not that much bigger (or safer) than a tin can, and  the winding road that leads to the village hugs the cliffside that drops a few hundred feet to the Lot River below. This is a view of the village from the overlook near the parking lot:

 

Even though the hike down the near-shoulderless road was also treacherous, I'd have to say it was all well worth the risk. It's a touristed village,  but with good reason. Wonderfully preserved 13th to 16th century Quercy buildings with pitched rooves line narrow streets overflowing with flowers.  Perched high above the ambling Lot river, its "picture-book prettiness" has earned it the well deserved designation of one of France's most beautiful villages. To be sure, I'll be posting more paintings of this village (watercolors and eventually oils) in the days ahead.

A good day in Annapolis

My first full day in Annapolis had a slow start, but in the end I got two and a half, maybe three little pieces done. I say *maybe* three, because the last one was just as the sun was setting over the town and night fell before I could really asess the work. But I'm jumping ahead. Annapolis is a charming little town, and the weather has been ideal. As lovely as the day began, I spent a good deal of time this morning wandering around with my gear in tow. For some reason I couldn't decide what to paint. Maybe I was overloaded by too much stimuli. Or maybe I was a little road weary...who knows? In any event, eventually I did settle down, and started with a street scene of  a sweet little church on the south side of Annapolis, in the sectoin of town called Eastport:

 

"First Baptist Church of Eastport" Oil on Board 8"x6"

Because of my late start, it was approaching lunchtime when I finished. So I thought it would be a good time to take a break and check out the rest of the Paint Annapolis event before I set up for another painting.  I was a little disappointed that I didn't see more painters out and about. I know they were there, but they must have been pretty well spread around Annapolis because I only came across a few the whole day. I imagine many of the juried artists were off on some quiet street somewhere away from the tourists so they could get some serious painting done. As for the others in the MAPAPA, most were nowhere to be seen; even though by the looks of the sign-in sheet, I know they had "checked in" at the information center.

I am hopeful that I'll run into more painters tomorrow. But for today, rather than drag my gear around endlessly for blocks on end, I abandoned my search and decided to set up for another painting. The light was getting really lovely and I found a nice, shady, quiet spot at the end of Shipright Street:

"Harbor View, Annapolis (Shipright Street)" Oil on board 9x12"

This photo really washes out my sky, but it was turning that lovely warm tone of late afternoon, and the clouds were taking on a beautiful soft pink glow. Until I can get this painting home to adjust the colors and edit out the little knobs of the canvas holders from my easel, you'll just have to use your imagination! This little scene shows the view looking out towards a little harbor on Spa Creek, and the red drawbridge that connects the historic center with the small maritime republic of Eastport. The historic center is lovely, but I rather prefer crossing the bridge to quieter section of Eastport. There is much to attract-- the quiet, charming streets and all of the smaller harbors that allow many lovely views of the water.

With painting #2 complete, I thought I was done for the day. So I packed up to head back to the hotel. But on my way back to the parking lot, I was struck by the last pink light of the setting sun over the historic town. I whipped out another canvas and started what I thought was to be a small sunset painting. However, the sky changed soooo quickly that soon I was painting a nocturne. Even though my canvas was small, (8x8") it soon became impossible to see anything in the dark as I had no street light nearby to help me in my task. It will be like looking into a Christmas stocking tomorrow morning when I go to the car to take a look at the painting in the daylight. Even so, I may yet pull out a lump of coal. We will have to see!

Summer Reading

My husband saw this little painting I did of our friends and said "Very Mary Cassat".  Sweet of him to say, and yes, I'd certainly aspire to paint like her! But I think the Cassat reference had more to do with my painting on the beach than anything else. I've often wanted to paint on the shore the way the Impressionists once did, but always felt somewhat restricted due to the total lack of shade and the sensitivity of my fair skin. This year, however, it has been possible because we've borrowed a large 12x12' canopy from our sister and brother-in-law. Otherwise I've had fried in my first 30 minutes on the beach!

The canopy allowed me to set up my easel and caputre this little vignette of our friends Esther and Carrie, engrossed in their summer reading:

"Summer Reading" Oil on Multimedia Artboard, 6x6" (NFS)

This painting was done on Multimedia Artboard. I painted straight on an unprimed surface, and I must say I prefer this surface primed with a layer of gesso for oils. While I was able to build the surface texture up after a bit, I found the board too absorbant without any gesso. Any way, after a bit, it was fun. I felt particularly good about the piece since Esther (the one with the dark hair) got up in the middle of the painting to go surfing.  She was a good sport, but still her vacation wouldn't suffer for my art.

Hatteras Pier

It's been absolutely beautiful here in Hatteras. I've done more relaxing and eating than anything. But after watching a most gorgeous sunrise with my husband, I finally decided to get the paints out yesterday and do a little something down by the Hatteras Pier:

"Hatteras Pier, Morning" Oil on Multimedia ArtBoard 6x12"

This pier looks like it needs some serious repair, but the rickety state of it made for fun painting. Now back to doing nothing! :-)

Another plein air visit to Ginter Botanical Gardens

We are having such unbelieveably beautiful weather here in Richmond that you'd think it was September instead of mid-August. So yesterday I took a short break from  studio planning to do a little painting. Only really had time for a very quick little 8x10" study, --and an unfinished one at that. But at least I got "out there" for a bit and took a break from all of this building/moving stuff:

Lewis Ginter Botanical Gardens has a wonderful feature called the children's garden. Lots of fun activities for the little tykes, and beautiful summer color for the rest of us. The sunflowers are fading but they were still holding on along this garden path. A few more touches are needed to resolve this piece, and I may yet add a figure or two to the path. So I guess this is yet another "work in progress". One day soon I may surprise everyone and finish something ;-)

Summer Garden painting, Bellevue style

This scene is one I've been "stalking" for a few days in the Bellevue neighborhood where I live. I've written before about  my North Richmond 'hood, and how many avid gardners live around here. On another one of our evening walks, we passed this adorable yard with a sunny garden of sunflowers and zinnias, and I knew I wanted to come back by and paint it. I especially liked this scene when the sunflowers were set against the neighboring house, at around 9 - 10 a.m., when the bungalow was mostly in shadow:

"Summer Garden" (painted en plein air) Oil on Board, 8x10"

Plein air in a French country garden

Now that we're really getting into the summer weather here, I'm starting to see my gardens taking shape. For the beds alongside my house, I'm slowly building an herb and butterfly garden. Budget restraints required that I experiment with starting from seed for a few things, but mostly I just started from very tiny plants and mixed in a few summer bulbs. Gardening is a pretty new pastime for me, so  believe me, every new growth or flower is a triumph.

In Virginia, if you dig deep enough, you will soon hit clay, which makes building any kind of new bed a bit of a chore, as you really have to work in a lot of good loose topsoil, soil conditioner, and fertilizer to make the plants take to it kindly. It kind of makes me shake my head a little when I visit places like the south of France. Roses practically grow out of the cracks of the sidewalks there! Okay, the gardeners there do have do deal with the rocks (and a lot of them) so I guess we all have our gardening challenges.

The old French country convent where I stayed had a labyrinth of beautiful gardens. I believe the current owners have had the place for a little over 10 years, and while they started with a property that had "good bones", all of the gardens were as a result of their own sweat and muscle. The gardens were set out like little outdoor sanctuaries, and there was something to discover in every nook and cranny of the property.

To the painter's eye, there were a thousand possibilities just within the confines of Le Vieux Couvent itself. But I was drawn particularly to the little goldfish pond out back.So apparently was one of the resident cats, "Portia". With so much touring, I didn't really have much time to paint on the grounds of the property, but I did do this little watercolor sketch of Portia by the pond one morning before we set off on another excursion:

My layout was such that I couldn't quite get in the pond itself. But I came back one morning after the group from the "artist retreat" left,  and painted  a more close-up view again in oils:

"Bassin à Poisson Rouge" (The Goldfish Pond) Oil on Linen, 11x14" Click here for more info.

Le Nocturne Francais

I have always loved nocturnes, so it was a real thrill to paint one under a full moon in a beautiful French country village. This little painting was done right in the neighborhood of our home base at Le Vieux Couvent:

"Le Nocturne Francais" Oil on Multimedia Artboard, 6x8" Click here or on the image for more info.

This painting came about one evening after a full day of touring and painting in the Dordogne countryside, AND after a huge and delicious five course dinner. We were all winding down for the night and Mary, our fearless leader, came in from an after dinner walk she had taken with her husband. They had gone out to find a lovely evening scene just up the street, lit by a street lamp and a full moon. She was going to go painting, she said, and anyone who wanted to join her was also welcome. Well, as tired as I was, I couldn't resist, and neither could most of the other painters. "We're in France! We can sleep later," became the mantra of our time together.

Knowing how quickly things change in the night sky, I took a small surface with me and set up under a nearby streetlamp. While the fog painting posted earlier was a high-key close value painting, this was a close value low-key one. We really couldn't see our colors at all, so it is indeed a good practice to place paint colors habitually in the same positions on the palette!

Gradually my eyes adjusted somewhat, so I just concentrated on shape and subtle differences. After I got the large dark shapes down, the night sky and the window light were the first things I addressed. It was a good thing, as not very long after, the clouds had drifted completely away, and the homeowner had called it a night and turned off the light.

Sketches from France- plus a brag

Just before I left for France my dear friends Jack and Mikki sent me some wonderful books on travel sketching. My favorite from the group is Artist En Routeby Betty Lynch. (A quick look at the price that this book is now going for makes me glad that I got this as a gift!) Betty is a very talented watercolorist, but I am partial to her simple pen and ink sketches, and they inspired me to keep my own little art journal for my trip.

I brought a 5x8" moleskine journal with me, which fit nicely into my carryall bag. Never one to be without as many options as possible, I chose the notebook that would accept watercolors (though most of my sketches were pen and ink.) Here's one with my notes of the Abbey I blogged about yesterday:

Most of these were just quick little jots, but the journal really helped me to lock in the memories in place, and keep track of the places we visited in sequential order. So many times on action packed trips like these, all of the memories start to blend together after a while, so I really recommend this combination of traveling, sketching and journaling. 

On the same day that we visited Abbaye Nouvelle, we also visited the village of Beynac (in the Dordogne), with its fascinating 12th century chateau perched atop dramatic limestone cliffs. Only time for a quick sketch for this part of the itinerary, which I did after our picnic lunch by the river bank. We are steeped deep into Medieval history here; this castle is where Richard the Lionheart met his death!

***And now, we interrupt this art travel log for a quick brag ;-). There is a fine new oil painter in the Young family, and she's got a blog! Check out my very talented niece, Molly Young and her Daily Painting blog.

Molly came all the way up from Texas to take my April workshop this past spring, and I got the chance to see her talent in person. I wish I could say I had something to do with it, but she's been cutting her own path for a while now and I look forward to seeing where she takes it. Her blog is brand new, but she's been painting for a couple of years, and she's a quick study to boot.

The fruit trees of early spring were all abloom while Molly was here visiting, and we took advantage of it by heading up to Monticello for a quick visit.  Here's a shot of the two of us at Monticello:

 

Molly's got some wonderful new paintings from that visit on her blog. Here's one of my faves.

Plein air at Lewis Ginter Botanical Garden

Three days of rain has given way to sun, so I finally had an opportunity to photograph a little plein air painting I did last week at Lewis Ginter Botanical Garden in Richmond.

"Golden Veil" 10"x8", Oil on Canvas

As the painting was in progress, a member of the garden staff told me that this little rose arbor is the setting for many a bridal portrait at the garden, so I thought I'd given it an appropriate title.

This was one of those hazy mornings when the sun was playing peek-a-boo behind cloud cover, giving off a cool, soft light. The result was a rather soft-focused, romantic effect. Then again, maybe I just had "bride" on the brain! 

Upping the Ante

It's been a while since I've listed a new "Art for Food" auction for the Central Virginia FoodBank, so I'm upping the ante by listing a new acrylic painting. This is a 7 day auction with an opening bid of $24.99. This one does have a low reserve ($50) but it's still a bargain and 95% of the proceeds go to the FoodBank.

"Lavender Valley" Acrylic on heavy acid free card Click to bid

It's been a while since I've worked in acrylic and I had a lot of fun with this one. I'm listing this one in the evening because I'm heading out for most of the day on Friday to do some plein air painting. Have a great weekend!

Art for Food Auction- "Golden Days" Tuscany painting

Today I have a new offering up for auction to benefit the Central Virginia Foodbank. This is another watercolor/pen and ink painting of the golden sunflowers of Tuscany:

"Golden Days" Watercolor/Pen & Ink on Arches Paper 7x10" (Image size 5x7") This painting has sold, but you can see the current auction by clicking here.