Hanna Park Heron painting

The Painting

This post is repeated from 2010 as I feel nostalgic today for this particular painting. Although I was thrilled that it sold to people who love it, both for itself and for its power to remind them of family outings to Hanna Park over the years, I still miss it at times.

The reference photo for this painting was a quick, drive-by snapshot of a great blue heron at Hanna Park Lake here in Jacksonville, Florida. As I studied that photo and others taken that day of the heron, the lake, and the surrounding trees, I knew that I could base a painting on them. But, just how should I compose the painting? Unlike some scenes, the focal point in this one chose itself. In spite of the appeal of dark, shimmering water, tall palm trunks, and jungle-like vegetation, the heron clearly draws the eye of the viewer. I felt certain, in fact, that the heron itself knew that he (or possibly she) had no competition for the starring role in this little tableau.

Reference Photo

In preliminary sketches, the main issues I worked on concerned how to arrange the elements--how much yellowed grass in the foreground? where to place the major horizontal elements? how much vegetation area in comparison to the water? And of course, just where to place the heron? In the photo, it is too near the center and is looking out of the scene--clearly unsatisfactory. Some of the other elements could stay more or less as they were in the photo.

The major change from the photo to the painting may not be immediately obvious. I decided to move the sun. The relatively short time we spent at the lake that day gave me no choice about the lighting, and I took photos with a bright overhead sun. However, I wanted more dramatic shadows in the painting and moved the sun, first to a point low in the sky behind the background trees and palmettos. Then, halfway through the painting, I moved it again--higher in the sky to the viewer's right. What fun! There is such power in creative projects--I can move the sun itself. However, the fact that I changed the light source as I worked caused a fair amount of readjustment in the painting along the way, as you artist readers can well imagine. Luckily, working in acrylics allows me to paint over nearly anything, which saves me and my paintings every time.

You will notice other differences from the reference photo. The background vegetation gradually took on a life of its own and became a sort of jungle fantasy instead of a literal rendering of what I had seen. Also, I realized late in the process that the varied greens in the background, despite touches of blue, yellow, and rusty browns, needed to be broken up by some other color. Given that there were winter-bare branches and dead trees nearby, I felt free to add a few fallen branches and to import a pair of dead trees from another scene. They help the overall composition in more than one way, I think, as they also echo the grey tones of the heron and add one other distinct vertical.  

Question of the day: When you pursue a creative endeavor, do you normally begin with a clear vision of the final outcome and then create that? Or do your creations change along the way? Are you comfortable and flexible if your original vision changes as you work?

Exploring and Learning--Landscape Painting--Hanna Park Heron

Last post, I showed you a reference photo for a possible painting--a quick, drive-by snapshot of a great blue heron at Hanna Park Lake here in Jacksonville, Florida. As I studied that photo and others taken that day of the heron, the lake, and the surrounding trees, I knew that I could base a painting on them. But, just how should I compose the scene?

In the June 17 post, I described the creative process involved in a different painting and my difficulties choosing the focal area for the piece. Unlike that project, this painting had an unmistakable focal point. In spite of the appeal of dark, shimmering water, tall palm trunks, and jungle-like vegetation, the heron clearly draws the eye of the viewer. I felt certain, in fact, that the heron itself knew that he (or possibly she) had no competition for the starring role in this little tableau.

In preliminary sketches, the main issues I worked on concerned how to arrange the elements--how much yellowed grass in the foreground? where to place the major horizontal elements? how much vegetation area in comparison to the water? And of course, just where to place the heron? In the photo, it is too near the center and is looking out of the scene--clearly unsatisfactory. Some of the other elements could stay more or less as they were in the photo.

The major change from the photo to the painting may not be immediately obvious. I decided to move the sun. The relatively short time we spent at the lake that day gave me no choice about the lighting, and I took photos with a bright overhead sun. However, I wanted more dramatic shadows in the painting and moved the sun, first to a point low in the sky behind the background trees and palmettos. Then, halfway through the painting, I moved it again--higher in the sky to the viewer's right. 

What fun! There is such power in creative projects--I can move the sun itself. However, the fact that I changed the light source as I worked caused a fair amount of readjustment in the painting along the way, as you artist readers can well imagine. Luckily, working in acrylics allows me to paint over nearly anything, which saves me and my paintings every time. Such changes are more difficult or even impossible in some other media. 

You will notice other differences from the reference photo. The background vegetation gradually took on a life of its own and became a sort of jungle fantasy instead of a literal rendering of what I had seen. Also, I realized late in the process that the varied greens in the background, despite touches of blue, yellow, and rusty browns, needed to be broken up by some other color. Given that there were winter-bare branches and dead trees nearby, I felt free to add a few fallen branches and to import a pair of dead trees from another scene. They might look familiar to my regular readers--do you remember the post about an outing with my good friend Dee that yielded the reference photo for these trees? They help the overall composition in more than one way, I think, as they also echo the grey tones of the heron and add one other distinct vertical. 

This work-in-progress is not yet signed although I feel quite satisfied with it. The final version may be slightly revised, but I like it as it is and may leave it unchanged. On my computer screen, the colors do not appear nearly as deep as they are in the painting, especially the dark tones--I hope you can get a sense of the way it actually looks. 

Question of the day: When you pursue a creative endeavor, do you normally begin with a clear vision of the final outcome and then create that? Or do your creations change along the way? Are you comfortable and flexible if your original vision changes as you work?

A Favorite Painting Technique Book

     The Simple Secret to Better Painting by Greg Albert inspires and teaches me something every time I pick it up. This book comes home from the public library every now and then so that I can find a new idea in it--or remind myself of helpful ideas that are easy to forget as I paint. 

     Today's post is rewritten from an entry I made in 2013. This super book came to mind today as I drove to the library, so I picked it up while I was there and decided to post about its wisdom again for new readers--and longtime readers as well.

     Greg Albert's "simple secret" is the wonderful lesson of variety within balance, which I consider a metaphor for a meaningful life as well as a basic principle for painting and other visual arts. His simple secret, which he calls the one central rule for design is: "Never make any two intervals the same." There is a wealth of valuable information contained in his applications of this rule. If you have any interest in the visual arts or in any facet of design, this book is worth reading and rereading.

"Sea Oats"

     Mr. Albert uses painting examples to expand his simple rule to intervals of distance, shape, tonal value, color, and more--no sort of interval should be the same, he maintains. This advice is helpful at all stages of a creative process. Here's an example. One of my recurring mistakes is to paint too much in mid-tone values--without fully realizing it along the way--rather than to include enough areas of more intense dark and very light values to balance the mid-tones. 

     In my more recent paintings, I started with a tonal value sketch, but sometimes still ended up with insufficient contrast. During my revision process, the value range often has needed to be extended. Mr. Albert's rule is a reminder to include a broader value range as well as to make sure that the areas (or "intervals") of dark, light, and mid-tone should not be the same in overall size. A previous post about a painting called "Sea Oats" shows one example of revision that included adding some very light clouds and brightening light areas on a dune as well as deepening just a few very dark highlights.

Hanna Park reference photo

"Hanna Park Heron"

     Another painting that required some added interval variety was "Hanna Park Heron"  (the colors in the photo of the painting are less intense than in the actual painting), shown here with the original reference photo (more about this painting was posted earlier also). Notice how the reference photo's background vegetation repeats types of plants, shapes, colors, and sizes equally--not ideal for artistic composition. Then, notice the additions of the two light grey dead trees to change that sameness and to provide strong verticals across from the large palm trunk. You will be able to spot other changes from the reference photo and to consider my possible reasons for them.

Question of the day: What does an idea like "variety in balance" bring to mind for you?

Growing--Our Art Studio Reception Was Great!

The Open Studio Reception in our home on Sunday afternoon was all that we had hoped for--and more. I am humbled by and grateful for all the friends and neighbors who came and supported the event. Over 50 people came and, so far, 7 paintings are sold, with at least one other person considering a purchase. She actually took notes on her favorite pieces so that she could

spend a few days making a decision. Common wisdom among artists is that the primary purpose of this kind of event is to introduce one's work to people and that we should not expect any (or very many) sales. So, I feel particularly fortunate for the solid interest shown by our guests. UPDATE: I have now added an index to all blog posts about planning and holding an art reception. Access it here.

If i had had more small pieces, like the 5" x 7" marsh studies and Plitvice National Park study (from our journey to Croatia), I could have sold more--they sold quickly. I also sold two of the three 9" x 12" paintings available, Magnolia on Purple and Cypress Swamp. Several times at the reception, someone told me that they would have liked to buy one of the pieces that had already sold. How affirming is that? I'll remember them and their preferences when I create something new with a similar feeling to the paintings they would have purchased so that I can let them know more work is available.

Also, amazingly, one 12" x 16" piece and one 18" x 24" piece sold. You have seen those as well--the former shows deep reddish wildflowers against a white fence at Jacksonville Beach, and the latter captures a blue heron at Hanna Lake Park. The couple who called the next day to say that they had decided to buy the Hanna Park Heron were attracted to the painting for itself and for two other reasons: they have a beloved blue heron like the one in the painting who frequents a wetlands area on their property, and they have happy memories of many camping outings in Hanna Park. How delightful is that? Regular readers have seen these in previous posts. If you want to view some of my paintings, simply enter the word "painting" in the search box above left, and posts that show or discuss paintings will appear.

More photos and stories from the reception will appear in the next post. For now, I want to post this much and then need to go give blood shortly. By the way, I am in the back yard photo in an aqua jacket and print skirt. The paintings for sale were displayed in various rooms of the house, as you can see above the chair in the living room.

Once again, let me thank you, blogging friends, for your helpful support and encouragement as I planned this (for me) scary new undertaking. You all bring me joy as well as new insights and ideas--thank you.

Question of the day: What joys and gifts have blogging friends given you?

Favorite Paintings Part II--Works from 2008 & 2009

     In this reflective end of the year time, we will look back today. Several months ago, I posted some of my personal favorites among older paintings and will continue that theme today. Since painting is relatively new in my life, the "oldies" don't go very far back. However, it feels as though I have learned  and grown significantly in the last 3 or 4 years and (although others may not notice a dramatic difference) can see improved elements in some more recent work. Of course, art works always have a mind of their own, so that unexpected results--for good or ill--can come along anytime. The process, the journey, and the sheer scary fun of trying are worth the ride no matter how various pieces turn out. I never fail to learn from every painting session.


     I won't repeat the background and reflections from the earlier favorites post. However, one insight from my mentor Linda Blondheim is worth recounting today. I once told her that a painting teacher had said to us students that she was sometimes ashamed of her early work and didn't like to think of the pieces people had bought back then still being on display. Linda agreed with me that the artist's feelings seemed sad and shared her own outlook. Of course, Linda has learned a great deal and grown as an artist over the years, but every time she has painted, she did the very best she could at the time. So, she is pleased if those works were appealing to buyers--or even if not--and truly values each of them. A healthy, motivating outlook, I think.

     The earliest of these three pieces is the 18" x 24" vertical creek view with the egret seen above. As the piece developed, I liked the fantasy feeling of the under painting in the streaky water and not-quite-realistic trees, so kept that aspect intact and called it "Creek Bend Fantasy". The second is the largest piece I have made so far, on a 22" x 28" canvas, called "Serenity"--also showing a creek bend where it pools. Both have garnered fans and favorable comments over several shows and in shops. The third painting, an 18" x 24" work called "Hanna Park Heron" sold at the very first Open Studio Reception in our home to friends who treasure it as a reminder both of many years of happy family outings in North Florida's Hanna Park and as a tribute to the majestic great blue heron who frequents the large pond behind their house. Descriptions of the process of creation for each piece and other details are in earlier posts; simply click on the links if interested.

     Thank you, dear readers, for your patience with my uneven posting schedule in recent months; I am recovering very well from hip replacement surgery and hope for more conversation with you in 2013. That partly depends on circumstances beyond my control; i.e., ME and my love for procrastination. I will do (some version of) my best :>). 

     May all of you enjoy a hopeful, peaceful Christmas and a joy-filled New Year.

Question of the day: Are you able to manage Linda Blondheim's positive, encouraging view of your past efforts? 

Exploring--Right Near Home--Hanna Park

In my April 23 post, I wrote about the curious fact that many of us neglect interesting destinations near our homes. When we travel, we seek out the parks, botanical gardens, historical homes, birding sites, or whatever other types of attractions most interest us. Yet, we let our home lives get "too busy" to play tourist in our own cities, parks, countryside, and historic places.

Here in Jacksonville, Florida, we are fortunate to enjoy visits from a number of house guests who are eager to see the fascinating history and varied natural beauty the area offers. Entertaining visitors provides the perfect excuse to play tourist right here at home. As a painter of local landscapes, I explore often--with or without visitors. Of course, I carry a camera on these outings, alert for possible subjects for landscape paintings. I have written about the joy of exploring near home in several previous posts and have another lovely spot to show you today.

When my husband's youngest brother from Wisconsin came in March, we went to Hanna Park, which I had not visited before. Maintained by our city, this lovely park provides 450 wonderful acres to explore for an admission price of just $1. Its ocean beach, fresh water lake, trails, wildlife, and wonderful vegetation were just waiting to show off for us. The day we visited, this stately great blue heron stood watchfully at the edge of the lake. I was able to snap a few quick photos out the car window from a couple of different angles. Although they were not carefully composed photos, I believed that a painting might emerge from these quick snapshots. The photo above became the main reference for a painting I have almost finished. Note: remember that you can always click on a photo in the blog to enlarge it. 

In the next post, I will show you the painting that resulted. In the meantime, I will leave you with a question like one I posed on June 12 about choices in the artistic process.

Question of the day: If you painted, drew, or more carefully photographed this scene, what elements in the photo would you use? What elements might you feature, change, or delete? 

A Favorite Book About Painting--and Life

     The Simple Secret to Better Painting by Greg Albert inspires and teaches me something every time I pick it up. This book comes home from the public library once every few months so that I can find a new idea in it--or remind myself of ideas that are easy to forget.

     Greg Albert's "simple secret" is the wonderful lesson of variety within balance, which I find a metaphor for an important secret to a meaningful life as well as to painting in ways that (hopefully) delight viewers. I hope he would not mind me mentioning his simple secret, which he calls the one central rule for design: "Never make any two intervals the same." Trust me that there is so much valuable information contained in the way Greg Albert spells out applications for this rule that I cannot and will not "give away" his secret in this brief blog post. If you have any interest in the visual arts or in any facet of design, this book is worth reading and rereading. I think its possible applications go way beyond painting alone.

     Mr. Albert uses painting examples to expand his simple rule to intervals of distance, shape, tonal value, color, and more--no sort of interval should be the same, he maintains. This advice is helpful at all stages of a creative process. Here's an example. One of my recurring painting mistakes is to trend too much toward mid-tone values, rather than to include at least small areas of more intense dark and very light values. I have no idea why that happens (an excess of caution, maybe?), but during the revision process, the value range often needs extending. Mr. Albert's rule is a reminder to include a broader value range as well as to make sure that the areas (or "intervals") of dark, light, and mid-tone should not be similar in overall size. A previous post about a painting called "Sea Oats" shows one example of revision that included adding some very light clouds and brightening light areas on a dune as well as deepening just a few very dark highlights.

     Another painting that required some added variety was "Hanna Park Heron" (sorry the colors here are not as intense as in the actual painting) , shown here beside the original reference photo (more about this painting was posted earlier also). Notice how the reference photo's background vegetation naturally repeats types of plants (shapes), colors, and sizes--not ideal for artistic composition. Then, notice the additions of the two light grey dead trees to change that sameness and to provide strong verticals across from the large palm trunk. You will be able to spot other changes from the reference photo and to consider my possible reasons for them.

     











Question of the day: Are you mostly a hands-on learner, or do you (like me) rely on well-illustrated books to learn and grow?

Favorite Paintings--When to Keep, When to Sell

"Summer Reflections" 18" x 24" in acrylic

     Every painting is a valuable learning experience, but some emerge as personal favorites. (Note that each photo caption is a link to earlier blog posts about that painting if you are interested in more background on any piece.) 

     Since we have down-sized our home in retirement and already have some treasured wall art, we have limited space for new pieces. If none of my babies left home, they would pile up under the bed and beyond, even though I am a slow painter with limited output. So, it has been delightful for me to connect with people who value a particular piece enough to purchase it. I have also enjoyed giving paintings as gifts--something I do carefully and only when I know for certain the recipient likes the work. 

"Castaway Island Cedars" 9" x 12" in acrylic

     However, a few particular paintings would be difficult to part with. They are not necessarily my best work; in fact some represent a creative struggle with a composition that stubbornly refused to come together for a time. Others feel like markers of growth and may have flaws or elements I would do differently now. My wonderful mentor, Linda Blondheim, taught me to value them all--from the earliest, awkward efforts on--because they represent the best I could create at the time.

"Look to the Hills, I" 18" x 24" in acrylic

     In a recent post, I showed you a painting called, "Hanna Park Heron", which found a wonderful home, but which I miss at times. Today's works are (at least for now) definitely not for sale. 

     Other artists (including the real professionals) seem to have varied viewpoints on keeping versus selling artwork. I have heard some say that "everything is for sale" and that it's foolish to hang on to anything, while others treasure certain works in what is often called "the collection of the artist". Of course, I am a simple hobbyist (though a serious one) and am fortunate not to have to make a living through my art (which would be a pitiful living, indeed!). That leaves me freer to choose what and when to sell.

     Why these three? The first is from 2014 and just pleases me no end; I particularly like the clear focal point, feeling of depth, and optimistic mood. The second is from a walk in a favorite preserve and feels serene and very typical of North Florida. The third is an earlier work, inspired by our 2006 revisiting of a lovely retreat center in New York and the memorable time we spent there with precious friends.

Question of the day: What special objects are your "keepers"--whether or not you made them?

     

Exploring & Growing--Landscape Painting, Jacksonville Beach scene

I have showed you some of my landscape paintings in previous posts and have described the creative process for each. If you wish to see them, you can view posts from June 12 & 17 and May 1 & 7 or simply enter "landscape painting" in the search box above. The June entries showed how my individual composition decisions used and yet modified the scene in the original reference photo. 

I have a painting of a grey heron at a lake in Hanna Park, here in Jacksonville, Florida almost finished and am excited that I will be showing it to you soon. That painting also grew away from the original reference photo as I worked and struggled with the vision I had for it. Although I am very happy with each of those finished pieces, I can recall vividly how I despaired along the way, wondering why the painting refused to gel--why it seemed determined to remain clumsy and unsatisfactory.

Today's painting is a different case. Although you will see differences--a painter almost never simply copies nature, this photo and painting are more closely related than usually happens. Exploring Jacksonville Beach with our little beach-loving Shih-Tzu one mild late winter day, I saw early flowers blooming by a white concrete fence. I took several photos and decided that the one above would make a lovely medium-sized painting. It required minor adjustments only to make a painting I am very fond of. Some paintings require extensive sketching, planning, adjusting, and revising to grow into a vision I like. Then again, sometimes, all I need to do is to observe nature and go with the flow.

Question of the day: When creativity comes easily, do you ever wish it happened that way every time? Would that really be for the best?

Savoring--Truly Seeing Our Surroundings

Slovenia, one of my painter friends commented a couple of posts ago, looks like a painter's paradise. So it is, but there are interesting scenes to paint close to home as well--near to my home, and, I am certain, near to yours. These photos may seem unremarkable to you, but to me they depict simple natural elements agreeably posing for landscape painting.

On Friday, I stopped in to spend some time with my good friend, Dee. Knowing that I am always on the lookout for North Florida landscape subjects to paint, she had told me to bring my camera when I came. 

She then treated me to a short ride to see two of her favorite everyday places. These are not tourist destinations like those I wrote about several weeks ago, just everyday delights. Near her suburban home, she has noticed that a number of water birds are nesting not far from a busy highway. Now, every time she passes, she looks over to see dozens of egrets, cormorants, and other birds happily congregating in the scrubby trees above a marshy stretch set a short distance back from the road. It is a magical scene in an unlikely location. I hope to return soon and to have photos to show you.

Next we stopped at a subdivision entrance bordered by a woodsy area with a number of sculptural dead trees, looking like standing driftwood among all the green. As landscaping "beautification" seems inevitable, Dee wanted me to enjoy the unique sight while it is here--surely the developers will send in their bulldozers to take these beauties down at some point. They will be replaced by more civilized, controlled vegetation, which we feel will be a loss.

My photos are not great because it was near noon, but they are still helpful reference photos for my painting. One of my "works in progress" was inspired by a scene at Hanna Park, on the northern edge of the Jacksonville area--a grey heron stood with his head turned to the side at the edge of a small inlet on a lake. Across the inlet is a riot of vegetation--lots of green in various shades, reflected in the shimmering water. It's a bit too much green for an interesting composition. There were dead trees very much like those we saw Friday near the water, but they were outside the frame of my reference photos.

Now, thanks to Dee, I have some good models for the skeletal tree or two I need as a contrast in my painting. This will yield a better result than "making it up." And, I have two new places to visit again, just to take in the beauty and to discover new painting subjects. 

Dee is one of those inherently creative people who truly sees what is around her, who loves birds in particular, and who is willing to pause and appreciate, even as she hurries to work or on errands. She credits this capacity for everyday appreciation with helping her get through some of the harder times in her life.

Question of the day: What sights, near home or on your usual routes here and there, have lifted your spirits in recent days?

Blog Hop, Part II--My Creative Process

A great blue heron, seen at  Jacksonville's Hanna Park

Somewhere in Michigan (a scene from memories)

     Thanks again to Mary Paquet for the invitation to contribute to the blog hop project by responding to four questions. I continue here with the two last questions (see my previous post for Part I). And don't miss Jo Castillo's post on Monday, Dec. 15; I "tagged" her to be next in the blog hop and know that you will enjoy her lively creative sense and fine art works.

3) Why do I create what I do?

     I have always enjoyed sewing, knitting, and crocheting, but did not believe I had any talent for the visual arts I so admired. My love for color and for the beauty of the natural world kept tugging me toward giving landscape work a try.

Castaway Preserve Cedar

Castaway Preserve Palms

     Finally, about 11 years ago, I signed up for a week-long class in acrylic painting at the John C. Campbell Folk School in North Carolina--expecting to enjoy playing with color and making creative messes, then to toss them and return home renewed and relaxed. Well, with an excellent teacher and time to practice and learn, I painted pieces that I really liked. No tossing occurred, and I was hooked! Now, with more workshops and lots more practice behind me, some pieces even sell. More importantly, I find continued delight in creating acrylic landscapes and learning more all the time. Another Folk School class this year started me in silk painting as well--a fluid, often unpredictable medium that gives me additional pleasure. Creating art is a whole new world for me and a rewarding pursuit in semi-retirement.

Jacksonville Beach

Jacksonville Beach

4) How does my creative process work?

     While considering this question, I used the little search box at the top of my blog and entered "painting process". Oh, my--I have written many posts that include discussion of the creative process in general and of the particular processes involved in individual paintings or silk scarves.

An early work--A favorite retreat near Warwick, NY

Silk scarf (using resist)

Silk scarf (natural blending--no resist)

     So, what are the common threads in varying processes for individual pieces? For processes in making the silk scarves, please see recent posts on that topic.
     
     Nearly all landscape paintings begin with a photo or a cluster of reference photos. Since I am endlessly fascinated with coastal North Florida scenes and want to convey the beauty and serenity I find in exploring out-of-the-way places in this area, I study angles of light, color (how to capture the incredible range of greens?!), and take notes to accompany the photos I take from various angles and distances.

     In the studio, the next considerations are composition (including tonal balance--the lights and darks) and color palette. In our area, good composition almost always involves leaving out some of the lush growth and sometimes other elements. Sketching--very roughly--a few possible versions of a scene, sometimes moving the point of view or focal point, helps me decide on a final version. Here are some previous posts that discuss composition.

     Choosing a limited number of colors helps both in unifying a painting and still gives an incredible range of possible hues. I don't try to match the actual scene so much as try to capture a feeling while staying in a realistic color range. Sometimes I go for low contrast and cool serenity, sometimes warmer, lively vistas. Again, here are some previous posts with more about color and palette for interested readers.

      Revision is the other most crucial piece of my process. The beauty of acrylics (especially for a learner like me) is that they dry quickly and cover well. I can paint over an area that does not please me, take out a superfluous bush, or whatever. Sometimes before a major change, I try it out by cutting a shape out of construction paper that approximates the change, tape it to the canvas, and squint to judge the effect on the composition.

     When wrestling with a piece that is not cooperating, it helps to remind myself that any work is a valuable learning experience (taking myself too seriously is fatal). At times, I put a painting away for a time and work on something else. A fresh look later on often yields a solution.

Question of the day: Do you enjoy hearing about the creative process or watching artists work? Or would you rather simply experience the art for yourself with no background or explanation given?