Start, stop, start again, finally finish.

This painting took a little longer than originally anticipated. The actual painting time was not that long, but the image shown is not the original. In the first attempt, the blue "lakes" area was masked out with fluid so that I could wash in the greens in a flowing, smooth motion. Good idea, but the execution, or specifically, the masks, failed. They leaked and no amount of "washing out" could save the painting. So I started over, and this version is actually stronger than the first one.

This is an image that I came upon while driving through Coeur d'Alene, Idaho on the way back from Missoula, MT. Lake Coeur d'Alene is beautiful, and I imagined the lake at sunset, with the water itself in shadow. I started with a basic exercise in warm vs. cool, but to counter the color theory that warm colors advance and cool colors recede, I placed the warm in the background so that would come forward, and cool in the foreground for the opposite, to create some visual tension. All in all, I am always interested in creating an overall unified surface that is flat ( no overall perception of depth of field) yet energized.

The motion and flow of the colors are quite satisfying, and I can't wait to get started on something new, influenced by my recent trip to Maui. The natural beauty of Hawaii, while stimulating, is quite a challenge.

The Gate

One weekday afternoon several weeks ago, during a particularly slow bus ride home, I gazed out the window at the swirling wind and fog: a typical summer afternoon in San Francisco. Just beneath the Golden Gate Bridge, a lone sailboat was fighting wind and waves toward The Gate. The boat was inundated by the wind and waves and I made a mental note to sketch out the scene when I got home.

I originally jotted this down in my sketchbook in pen and ink, but soon realized that in order to capture the swirling motion of the sky and sea, I would need to work larger to achieve a fuller, freer drawing stroke. I also wanted to take a very grey, monochrome day and pump in some color. The palette is a basic split complementary of blue-violet, blue-green, and orange, with tints and shades of each color providing the swirling texture. Plus some additional colors to liven things up.

I purposely chose to paint on 140# Fabriano Rough, rather than my favorite Arches Rough, as the Fabriano is slightly thicker and holds up to more rubbing out of highlights. In the end, I didn't do as much rubbing as originally anticipated. In several areas you can see the pocked surface of this highly textured paper. I used a rubber cement mask for the sail and boat hull, and even though I put the cement down full strength, it broke down in a couple of areas under repeated washes, naturally on the sail portion that I intended to leave unpainted. Ah, the unexpected wonders or watercolor.

Sources

The actual painting time of the most recent image took less than a week, as all the elements fell together fairly easily. But various components were pulled together from a variety of sources, over several months.

This was originally sketched back in early June after I returned from a trip to Montana. The gentle "S" curve in the foreground was a pattern that I glimpsed out of the corner of my eye while driving from Missoula to Spokane, somewhere near the Idaho border. A fire road or trail cut its way through the side of the mountain, gently dipping out of sight with each rolling hill. The red roof shapes are taken from a hospital near where I live. After seeing them several times on my bus ride to work, I decided to incorporate them somehow. The "church" facade was taken from an image I saw of a Greek church nestled into the hill side. The foreground hills and colors are heavily rooted in the hills of Northern Marin. Otherwise the colors are a combination of complementary and split complementary, with a hefty dose of "making it up as I go along".

The next one will mark a return to the fronds of recent paintings, this time with the addition of a little abstraction and less literal interpretation. Stay tuned.

Let. It. Be.

One of the most important and influential things I learned in college was from Jim Storey, the head of the SFSU Design department. While teaching my class in Drawing and Visual Thinking, he said "if there is only one thing you take away from this class, it is to learn to put the pencil down 5 minutes before you think you are done." I've cherished that advice all my life, and while, in hindsight, I realize I haven't always followed it, I replay those words as if they were spoken yesterday. This painting is a case in point.

I actually began this painting before the one posted below, but for various reasons, just couldn't seem to bring it to completion. The colors and values evolved as each was applied, as the layers were built, and finally, in the last two sessions, it started to come together. I'm pleased with the rhythm of the design, very much like the rich color saturation, and at one point the other day, set it on the easel, sat back, and Jim Storey's words came to mind: now is the time to stop. Any more fiddling and it would be ruined.

I am also pleased with the direction this latest set of watercolors has taken. I have several sketches from a recent trip that hopefully will continue to explore this "imagined, fantasy landscape".

A Morning Vista

I was taking an early Sunday morning walk several weeks ago when I noticed the early sun illuminating the fog-draped hills north of my house. I dashed back to the studio to sketch out my interpretation of the long shadows arcing across the hills and the row of houses along the road in the distance.

At the time, I was very excited about the sketch and couldn't wait to put it on paper. I am pleased with how the fog dips over the peak of Mt. Burdell, the subtle green against the light lavender/grey of the sky, as well as the small spots of color that I used to interpret the houses.

As I stepped back, I also saw these bits of color as sailboats on distant bay. I really enjoy elements of a painting that can be perceived differently by several viewers. A friend was looking at an older painting (Almost Full, below), and he interpreted the edge of some breaking waves as a whale's tail. Very rewarding when others see things in a painting that I had not imagined.

Note: My original sketch had the cast shadows of several large trees washing over the foreground at the left. I decided to omit them as busy and distracting. I'm still undecided whether to go back and add them in.

Re-thinking and re-directing

A couple of weeks ago, while working on a sketch for the painting posted directly below, I started working with just outlines and bold shapes, as a way of taking a fresh look at the subject. At the time, I thought "why not just paint the sketch?" One of the feelings I have had in the last couple of months is that I have been doing too much painting, with too much unnecessary fiddling around.

I re-thought my entire work process, ditched the use of photo references, and worked solely from sketches to produce a bolder look that is graphically-stronger, featuring more saturated, spontaneous color. I am pleased that, although this painting went through several preparatory sketch revisions, the final has the carefree quality of an impromptu sketch.

One of my goals for this Spring was to get to a place, in a new medium, where I was eager to be painting again: a feeling of "I can't wait to get back to the drawing board". This re-direction is satisfying because it sets aside many work habits that had been plaguing not only my recent work, but perhaps my output for quite some time. I've also had my fill of agave for the time being, and a new painting is in the works.

A Third Try and a Different Approach

I set out to tackle the Agave subject and be less static than the last one, let the color "flow" more, and see what might develop. I worked almost exclusively "wet-on-wet", where the paper is moistened either with water or a thin wash of color, and then stronger, less diluted colors are washed on and allowed to flow together.

Certain areas were painted purposely less defined and softer than my last attempt. I think this painting establishes lights and darks well, and I am pleased that "happy accidents" of color flowing together (the foxing edges can be seen in the close-up) urged me to keep moving and exploring this new (at least for me) technique.

I stuck to the classic "warm colors advance, cool colors recede" axiom, and in that respect, I am pleased with this step. For my next installment in this series, I would like to soften up areas of the painting, pull out edges in certain places, but not let the overall piece be so "in focus".

A new sheet of paper has been taped to the board for the next adventure.

Let's Try This One Again

I decided to revisit the agave image with a slightly different approach. I tightened up the composition a bit, and scaled back the palette. This is still not what I am looking for, but it is moving in the right direction. Ideally, what I am after is a series of color "blobs" that are intricate and unresolved at close viewing, yet come together at a distance for a recognizable subject.

In the case of Watercolor and Me, this comes down to using bigger brushes, with less focus on detail, color accuracy. More about the stroke and the paint. That said, there are areas of this version that are satisfying, with the veiled layers of color interacting up close, and the contrast balance is good. The "whites" are actually not white paper, but veiled with a light, warm wash to reflect the tone of the afternoon.

OK, enough of this one, on to the next.

Production Notes: This is painted on 140 lb. Fabriano Artistico Rough, the first time I have used this paper. I have been a die-hard fan of Arches drawing papers, but for watercolor, the Fabriano is slightly heavier, less prone to ripple after a heavy coat of paint, which I favor, and it dries faster, allowing less "downtime". I'll never abandon Arches BFK for drawing, but for watercolor...

Restart.

After 35 years I have decided to revisit painting. In particular, watercolor. The reasons are many-fold, but fundamentally it has to do with trying to get out of a rut, stop repeating many of my old work, and restart my direction.

Watercolor is challenging, and I have much to re-learn from years ago, but I am exhilarated to be on a new path, and however bumpy it may be, am looking forward to the ride.

I recently moved and where I now live boasts an abundance of succulents, agave in particular. It seemed fitting to choose one of these as my subject. Also, while I haven't abandoned figure work, or for that matter, some of the abstractions that I had been working on the past summer, I needed to have some constants in place when exploring a new medium. A neutral subject, grabbed from a snapshot, and free for exploration.

I will revisit this scene in the next version, with a simplified composition, more extended palette, and hopefully more satisfying results.