"The Ancients" #2 glaze oil 30 x 40 Hello again. I've been AWOL for a while. I'm here to ask a favour. Just as you know to remind me never to paint either another violin or a harbour scene with ships, would you please add "Never paint another ancient tree with gnarly roots and a partial reflection." Yes, I do admit to a weakness for exposed roots and their reflections. I waited three years for a second crack at this cursed image, which I had glanced once before; it necessitated perfect weather on the right river and a quick dropping of the paddle to take the shot. Had to merge two, as it turned out, because Jon sterns robustly, but finally I had a working look at "The Ancients" #2. .
Getting the shot turned out to be the easy part. One of the challenges of landscape is maintaining the balance between overview and detail. The gorgeous roots that drew me are now driving me crazy. Unlike Ginger Rogers, who was praised not only for dancing with Fred Astaire but doing it backwards and in high heels, I am having trouble even finding the beat. To put it bluntly, the grisaille has been grisly. It's like being lost in a maze. Now add a gazillion maple leaves (sugar maple, to be exact) and l'm inventing reasons to avoid my easel.
On the plus side, the drawers in this house have never been better organized.
Just last week the final piece of new furniture was dry enough to move inside. Nothing like a small house to turn you into a cheap date when it comes to storage; beholding these empty drawers gave me frissons of delight. Filling them was even better. Now, to reward myself for ten minutes on sorting out roots and leaves, I simply open a drawer and feast my poor crossed eyes. For the first time I have all of the paints - oil, acrylic and watercolour - and all of the brushes within reach (except for my favourite brushes, which are currently residing in The Land of the Missing. Oh well. At least I now know where they aren't.) Even my gloves have their own drawer. Life doesn't get much better.
So pity me not, dear friends. It may be Christmas before I paint myself out of here, but I have my gloves to keep me warm.
Getting the shot turned out to be the easy part. One of the challenges of landscape is maintaining the balance between overview and detail. The gorgeous roots that drew me are now driving me crazy. Unlike Ginger Rogers, who was praised not only for dancing with Fred Astaire but doing it backwards and in high heels, I am having trouble even finding the beat. To put it bluntly, the grisaille has been grisly. It's like being lost in a maze. Now add a gazillion maple leaves (sugar maple, to be exact) and l'm inventing reasons to avoid my easel.
On the plus side, the drawers in this house have never been better organized.
Just last week the final piece of new furniture was dry enough to move inside. Nothing like a small house to turn you into a cheap date when it comes to storage; beholding these empty drawers gave me frissons of delight. Filling them was even better. Now, to reward myself for ten minutes on sorting out roots and leaves, I simply open a drawer and feast my poor crossed eyes. For the first time I have all of the paints - oil, acrylic and watercolour - and all of the brushes within reach (except for my favourite brushes, which are currently residing in The Land of the Missing. Oh well. At least I now know where they aren't.) Even my gloves have their own drawer. Life doesn't get much better.
So pity me not, dear friends. It may be Christmas before I paint myself out of here, but I have my gloves to keep me warm.
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