Exploring--Off the Beaten Track for Painting Subjects

Last post, I showed you a 2009 visit to Kingsley Plantation in the Timucuan Preserve, here in Jacksonville, Florida. Today's photos are from our visit to the plantation with out-of-town friends a couple of weeks ago on a pleasant, bright day. After viewing the ruins of the slave cabins, the buildings, and exhibits, we wandered the extensive property. I am always drawn to water, so took a trail by the river, where views of marsh grasses and small islands added charm to the view.

I took a number of photos, as I usually do in interesting coastal North Florida areas, hoping that some will provide inspiration for landscape paintings in the future. In addition to photos that might, with cropping and a few adjustments, become the basis for a painting, I take various photos to help me remember details. The bark or leaves of a particular tree, the mud at the edge of a river, a close-up of salt marsh grasses, a cloud formation, or any number of other details can provide the information I need back in the studio. Without good photo records, studio painting would be guesswork and would not result in the kind of expressive, yet representative, landscapes I like to paint. Of course, not every painter works this way, and many wonderful paintings evolve by other methods. But, for me, "making it up" does not produce the kinds of interpretations of actual locations in our beautiful area that I try to paint.

You may enjoy imagining how you would use these photos in a painting. The view of the path is intriguing, but lacks the variation in color and in lights and darks a painting needs. Guess I'd imagine more breaks in the trees on the left to add more sunny patches on the shadowed walk, then intensify the drama of the bright area where the trail curves out of sight with sunlit tree trunks and foliage. The river view has multiple possibilities; one would be to use a 6" x 12" canvas I have and paint a narrow panoramic view.

Question of the day: Do you, too, find yourself captured by a scene off the beaten path that other people might pass without noticing?

Exploring--Right Near Home--Kingsley Plantation

Within the Timucuan Preserve on the northern edge of Jacksonville, Florida, an immense cluster (more than 98,000 acres altogether) of preserved natural and historical sites, stands a well-preserved former sea island cotton plantation with some surprises in its history. Kingsley Plantation nestles beside extensive salt marshes and passages out to the sea and to navigable rivers. In fact, ships from England could follow waterways straight to Kingsley's dock to deliver goods and load precious sea island cotton for the voyage back.

This free attraction, run by the National Park service, is accessible by road, boat, canoe, or kayak. The house and kitchen buildings (currently closed for renovation) are smaller and simpler than some of the grand old plantations you may have visited in places like Virginia. But, like those Virginians, Kingsley's owners owed their prosperity to the slave labor of countless individuals. In one of the photos, you can see the remains of slave cabins (24 of the original 32 are visible, arranged in a semi-circle) that were built of tabby. Tabby is a concrete material made of sand, water, and lime extracted from shells, mixed with whole shells and pieces, which was widely used for building in the coastal South. Another photo shows the critter that calmly snuffled nearby while my brother and I explored the cabin ruins, barn, and other exhibits on a bright January day.

Although it's tempting to write about this plantation at length, I'll spare you that. You can find extensive information on-line if you are interested (ditto for the Timucuan Preserve). However, the history of this plantation has a couple of unusual aspects I'll mention. When Zephaniah Kingsley acquired the land, he brought his wife Anna and their children along--not so amazing, except that Anna, who was a native of Senegal in West Africa, had been his slave at one time. Further, given that Zephaniah liked owning land better than managing it, or even living there full-time, Anna eventually came to manage the plantation on her own--an unusual achievement for that time, to say the least. Unlike many of the large plantations in other areas, in which overseers drove so-called "gangs" of slaves in the fields every moment of daylight, Kingsley employed the "task" system of work under Anna's management. Individual slaves were assigned a daily task and were free to rejoin their babies, till their own gardens, etc. once they had completed the task. This is not to suggest that their lives were easy, but it does seem marginally more humane than driving people to work every daylight hour.

This post is slightly revised from my April 26. 2009 post (I have to say that this year's January was rather thin on bright, warm days like the one pictured here :>). We revisited Kingsley Plantation earlier this month with friends visiting us from Pennsylvania and enjoyed it just as much. Unfortunately, funding limitations have slowed work, and the house and kitchen building are still under renovation. They seem to be nearing completion, so we hope that we can see them later this year restored to the way they looked in Anna Kingsley's time. Next post, I'll show you some photos from this recent visit that may become paintings at some time.

Question of the day: If you were a local tourist guide, where would you take visitors and what would you want them to understand about your home area?

Growing--Landscape Painting Studies--Salt Marshes

These small (5" X 7") studies are based on the two salt marsh photos I posted last time. Several other photos taken that early January day also informed my interpretation of the scene on canvas. Although I love exploring and looking out over the marshes any time of the year, there is something especially tranquil and spiritual about winter marshland. Thus, these little pieces have been a joy to create. You will notice a few modifications from the actual scenes in the photos, especially some simplifications to improve the composition for this small format. When viewed next to each other, these paintings provide a panoramic view. But each can stand on its own as well.

I am working on a 12" X 16" version of the view in the study on the right. The egret is nice, but the complexity of the waterway patterns in the other study is even more appealing to me. Achieving a good tonal balance and a believable distance perspective in the larger painting have been more demanding than expected, but I hope to be able to show it to you soon.

Again, I am struck by the extent to which painting has sharpened my ability to see, to really see, the variety and complexity of nature--even in an apparently simple scene. Art instructors always say, "Paint from what you see; don't make it up," and every turn at the easel proves them right. Even when we change the scene--or even partially abstract it--working from what we think things look like instead of from the reality throws the work off. Yet, maddeningly, I sometimes find myself falling into the habit of working out of my head, even when the photos are right in front of me. The goal is continual growing and learning from each project.

For local readers, a reminder of our invitation to one and all. Mark and I would love to welcome you to our home for Harvest Delights, an Open Studio Reception Sunday, November 8, from 2 - 5 p.m. Food, drink, paintings, sustainably grown produce from our friends' farm, live piano music, and fun people--drop in and enjoy! Please scroll down to the October 10 post for address and contact information. Or email me at lemmeneslandscape@bellsouth.net with questions.

Question of the day: If you paint, sketch, take photos, or pursue any other creative outlet, do you find yourself seeing much more acutely than before--even if you have always loved nature?

Exploring--Near Home Again--Salt Marsh Trails

I am fascinated by salt marshes--by the rolling sea of grass, by seasonal variations in the texture and color of the grasses, and by the changing patterns of land and water as the tide rises and falls. Since all the land in a marsh is fairly low, these patterns are not set; the incoming tide flows in some established channels, but also spreads in unique ways that subtly change the scenery from one day to another. These North Florida wetlands are quite different from the Michigan wetlands I grew up with and the wetlands of other places we have lived. I feel enriched to have lived in Western Michigan, the New York City/Long Island area, Southern California, greater Atlanta, Georgia, and now in Jacksonville, Florida. I am thankful for this land and for the rich variety of natural beauty near each place we have lived, as well as in the many other states we have been fortunate to explore.

We have hiked several times in the Theodore Roosevelt area of Jacksonville's vast Timucuan Preserve. A favorite trail leads to an observation platform looking out over the marsh--the views in the above photos. The trail is named after Willie Brown, a man who once lived in a small, isolated, primitive cabin (the cabin footings remain, midway along the trail) in the woodsy region on the way to the marsh. Thus, walking the trail provides two distinct types of terrain and habitat. The view from the observation platform is particularly interesting late in the day, at nesting time for the many water birds who range out from the area.

Next post I will show you two small paintings, studies for possible larger pieces, based on these and other photos from our exploration on the trail a couple of years ago. I took the photos when my sister visited from Maryland, and we explored this area together. Although we have been back since, something about the tidal patterns in photos from our first visit most strongly moved me to paint the scene. For some reason, photos from more recent visits have not struck me with the same power, even though our experience of the natural setting has been amazing every time.

You see the marsh as it looks in early January, warmed by the brown and golden tones of winter grass but yielding fewer bird sightings than in nesting season. I enjoy the lonely expanse and the limited palette of the scene in winter, which focuses my attention on the interesting patterns of the waterways as the tide begins to recede from an earlier high, exposing mud, mussel beds, and tiny scurrying crabs.

Question of the day: What natural beauty has enriched your life recently?

Exploring--Right Near Home--Return to Big Talbot Island

I hope you will indulge me as I repeat a couple of posts from the beginning of this blog. Since there are many new readers (and most readers, I suspect, do not read all the posts going back to the beginning), I will occasionally repeat a post that has generated some interest. Welcome back to Big Talbot Island State Park.

Wherever we have lived, I have enjoyed playing tourist near home. It doesn't cost much (sometimes is free, especially if one can walk or bike there) and often reveals delightful new surprises. We are fortunate to have many friends and family members from other parts of the USA or other countries who come to stay with us. Spending time showing them our home town and surroundings takes us places we might neglect to experience otherwise. How many of us hear about nearby interesting places we would like to explore and yet postpone doing that month after busy month?

Here's a thought. Even if you don't have visitors, promise yourself an outing sometime soon. Choose a place and put it on your calendar. Or step out the door right now, stroll around for a few minutes or more with all your senses on high alert. Take a camera and make like a tourist. What if you were paying money for your "lodgings"--wouldn't you explore the area?

Or, imagine yourself hosting a visitor from someplace quite unlike your region. If it is hard to see the farms around you with fresh eyes, pretend you are guiding visitors from Saudi Arabia. Wouldn't they be amazed at the rolling hills or vast plains in lush greens or rich golden tones? Or if your city neighborhood is seeming drab and uninteresting, imagine giving small-town visitors a tour of the ethnic food stalls and lunch counters in some surrounding blocks. Wouldn't they love hearing multiple languages and savoring the varied aromas and flavors?

We had lived in Jacksonville, FL for several years before a visit from a brother who lives in Cleveland, Ohio prompted me to explore Big Talbot Island State Park. A stark contrast to the endless, wide Jacksonville beaches most visitors flock to, the shore of Big Talbot is a quiet, somewhat ghostly walk along low bluffs. Over time, the battering of storms and storm tides has toppled and sculpted oaks, pines, and other vegetation into a unique atmosphere (begging for artistic photographers--and for us amateurs, too). The shady, wooded trail from parking to an overlook is short and easy, and another short trail leads to a path down the bluff to the shore. There are other hiking trails in the Big Talbot Park preserve, through heavily wooded areas dripping with Spanish moss or along the fascinating, varied habitat of salt marshes--bird-watching and just breathing deeply made an afternoon here feel like an extended vacation.

Question of the day: Why did I wait for an out-of-town visitor to explore this nearby natural wonder? What will you explore for the first time or see in a new way soon?

Learning and Growing--Landscape Painting

Being Mary from Michigan (and some other 4 season-places since school years), I am thankful that North Florida has discernible seasons and some cool to moderate weather. Once summer heat sets in, however, I dream about either getting away to a cooler place or spending the entire day in the ocean.

Several years ago, I had saved for a summer getaway but found that my husband did not want to take any vacation time. He said, "You go ahead and do something anyway." Cool, but what to do? I began to picture a idealized week on my own in the mountains of North Georgia or southern North Carolina (somewhere I could easily drive in a day) taking a course in something totally new--unlike anything I had done before. Inspired by various painting shows I had seen on Public TV (don't they make it look easy?), I searched for a way to study painting in a mountain setting. To my delight, I found the John C. Campbell Folk School, the exact sort of setting and learning environment I had been dreaming about. Take a look at folkschool.org for their varied course offerings and reasonable accommodations.

As my May 1 post mentions, I had not picked up a paintbrush since elementary school, and back then, the teachers kindly "admired" my art work, patted me on the head, and allowed as how it was a good thing I had other abilities. I approached the painting class at the Folk School as a way to shake up and refresh my sometimes overly logical, mathematical brain and assumed I would make some colorful messes to throw away as I packed for home. With an excellent and encouraging teacher, I was amazed to make paintings I actually liked. And I'm still painting! My generous mentor, remarkable landscape painter Linda Blondheim, is an invaluable resource. I wish she lived closer than the 75 miles from here to her Gainesville, FL studio--even then, there is no way I could have grown in my art as much as I have without her guidance. You will hear more about her along the way, but for now, see her website and follow links to her delightful blogs and other information.

If any of you are interested, I will tell more of the Folk School learning story another time. For now, I thought you might enjoy seeing a painting inspired by photos from the Timucuan Preserve taken on the kayaking outing I described in my last post (May 4). I tried to capture the feeling of super-calm marsh land under the shimmer of heavy clouds, incredibly still air sizzling with the electric undercurrent of an impending storm.  The second image pictures an earlier stage in the painting process as I tested and balanced the values, from lightest to darkest and the in-between values, as an under-painting and guide.

Question of the day: What do you secretly want to try, even though you feel certain you might do it poorly? Why not just do it?

Exploring--Paddling & Savoring Timucuan Preserve

I mentioned my new painting adventures in the last post and am working on getting decent photos of some other paintings to show you soon. It can be difficult to get them lighted well to avoid glare and to display close to true color in photos.

In the meantime, here are a couple of photos of a kayaking outing I took with my husband and adult son (the younger of two sons) one cloudy Memorial Day. Here in North Florida, cloudy can be a good thing, helping the temperature stay moderate. Thankfully, the threatened stormy weather held off until later in the day. 

At a well-run facility called Kayak Amelia, we were fitted for kayaks and gear and instructed in safety and technique before we set off with a knowledgeable guide whose colorful stories and descriptions of his beloved salt marshes informed us about this precious habitat. Yet, he wisely allowed plenty of quiet time for us to savor the beauty, the water birds, the fish jumping, and the calming rhythm of silent paddling. Although most of the areas we explored that day are not accessible except by water, we were not far from Kingsley Plantation and other public sites and parks in the remarkable, extensive cluster of wetlands, beaches, and forest in the Timucuan Preserve (which also includes Big and Little Talbot Islands). See my posts for April 23 and 26 for more Timucuan Preserve sites. I am humbled and awed by the varied natural beauty there and feel tremendous gratitude to all the groups and individuals responsible for its preservation.  

Some of my photos from that day inspired a quiet marsh painting I'll show you soon. 

Question of the day?: What outdoor exploring is on your "do sometime" mental list? When--set a date now!--will you stroll, pedal, hike, saddle-up, paddle, sail, skate, or hang-glide (!) in a precious natural setting near your home?

Thank you to all my kind readers who have emailed or phoned me to respond to the blog. I appreciate knowing that you are "out there" whether or not you post a comment. It's especially encouraging to hear the plans for exploring that a couple of you have made since reading earlier posts. Here's to our continuing creative conversation!

 

Exploring--Right Near Home--Big Talbot Island

Wherever we have lived, I have enjoyed playing tourist near home. It doesn't cost much (sometimes is free, especially if one can walk or bike there) and often reveals delightful new surprises. We are fortunate to have many friends and family members from other parts of the USA or other countries who come to stay with us. Spending time showing them our home town and surroundings takes us places we might neglect to experience otherwise. How many of us hear about nearby interesting places we would like to explore and yet postpone doing that month after busy month?

Here's a thought. Even if you don't have visitors, promise yourself an outing sometime soon. Choose a place and put it on your calendar. Or step out the door right now, stroll around for a few minutes or more with all your senses on high alert. Take a camera and make like a tourist. What if you were paying money for your "lodgings"--wouldn't you explore the area?

Or, imagine yourself hosting a visitor from someplace quite unlike your region. If it is hard to see the farms around you with fresh eyes, pretend you are guiding visitors from Saudi Arabia. Wouldn't they be amazed at the rolling hills or vast plains in lush greens or rich golden tones? Or if your city neighborhood is seeming drab and uninteresting, imagine giving small-town visitors a tour of the ethnic food stalls and lunch counters in some surrounding blocks. Wouldn't they love hearing multiple languages and savoring the varied aromas and flavors? 

We had lived in Jacksonville, FL for several years before a visit from a brother who lives in Cleveland, Ohio prompted me to explore Big Talbot Island State Park. A stark contrast to the endless, wide Jacksonville beaches most visitors flock to, the shore of Big Talbot is a quiet, somewhat ghostly walk along low bluffs. Over time, the battering of storms and storm tides has toppled and sculpted  oaks, pines, and other vegetation into a unique atmosphere (begging for artistic photographers--and for us amateurs, too). The shady, wooded trail from parking to an overlook is short and easy, and another short trail leads to a path down the bluff to the shore. There are other hiking trails in the Big Talbot Park preserve, through heavily wooded areas dripping with Spanish moss or along the fascinating, varied habitat of salt marshes--bird-watching and just breathing deeply made an afternoon here feel like an extended vacation.

Question of the day:  Why did I wait for an out-of-town visitor to explore this nearby natural wonder? What will you explore for the first time or see in a new way soon?