The Value of Neutral . . .

"Coastal Wedges"

watercolor 15 x 22 inches

More from the Oregon Coast. . . . .

While I am binging on plein air painting, an occasional break in the studio helps me focus on various elements while painting . . . . .instead of wind, bugs, glare, people interruptions etc.

Using a few of the photos taken while on our trip up the Oregon Coast, I put this scene together.   As you can see, it really is nothing more than a lot of stacked up wedges . . . .one on top of the other . . . .to set up the drawing.   But it was the commonly grayed colors that make this painting challenging.   It is all about value management and placing sparks of pure color to make this painting come to life.  The background hills, for example, each have a reduced value as each hill recedes into the distance.   Then, the currents in the foreground all need to lay flat and appear to recede, too.   There is very little color play in this painting (only in the rocks, the first hill and the sky).   Notice how 'hot' the upper edge of the rock in the middle ground appears!   It is just brown!   But the brown is sooo much warmer than the surrounding grays.   So, it attracts our eye.   

The dominance of gray sets up the jewel color of the sky (emphasizes it) and provides the basis of comparison for the warmth in the low hang in clouds.   The gray sets a mood of calm and a sense of quiet neutrality that makes the simple blue spot come to life.  

Making an emotional painting isn't always about how much color we can put in.  Sometimes it is about how little color is present.   Neutral color can make for very impactful paintings.

Here Comes More . . .

"Morning Fog"

watercolor 15 x 22 inches

This is the first painting that was the result of the scramble to get back to painting en plein air.   I must admit that there were a number of pleasures which arose on that day.  The first was that I read the colors and values well enough that the impression of fog came off well.  In addition, I met a few nice folks who stopped by the easel to observe and to chat.  One, in particular was a young, attractive woman who happened to be visiting the area (she grew up here) from New York City.   She proved to be enormously fascinating as she, also, is a painter (as well as a costume designer for the theatre scene in NY), along with a few other noteworthy accomplishments.   We connected instantly about the ever present angst in trying to paint.   We couldn't stop talking!   Sometimes, being outside painting brings unexpected pleasures.

The ice plant, which is the succulent that covers the tops of the bluffs, is multicolored and presents an interesting challenge to paint as it curves and undulates across the cliff tops.   When it moves in and out of the light in unexpected ways the painter can often become confused and lose track.   This day, however, all went well with the ice plant.   The cliff faces are a crazy challenge, too.  I am sure if you look back over the 400+ posts here on this blog, you will see many more attempts at painting them.  As I confided in my new friend from NYC, I have spent 25 years trying to figure out how to paint these gorgeous citadels overlooking the sea.   I have been fascinated with them for that long . . . .and they are just as flirtatiously elusive as ever . . . .though I am getting closer.

Click on the image and you will see the multiple colors used throughout the cliff faces.   Not just earth colors, that is for sure.  Would you believe an underpainting if violet beforehand?   I did it as an experiment and was pleased with the outcome.  That set me up for a more serious attempt the next day.

By the time a got finished with the cliff faces and ice plant, I believe that exhaustion had set in.  So, I made a sloppy mess out of the rushing water, which had to be scrubbed out and repaired in the studio.   More about that later, too.

Two Weeks to Discover Reality . . .

"Oregon Sunshine"

Watercolor 15 x 22 inches

This month my wife and I took a road trip from south of San Francisco, California to the northern most tip of Washington State.   Some 4300 km and two weeks later, we found ourselves at home and I was completely excited about getting to the easel.   We had seen some of the most incredible views of the coastline during the entire trip.  The Oregon Coast and the Washington Coast hold surprises around every corner!

Huge rocks jut unexpectedly up out of the water displaying their immensity against the sands and flotsam of the shoreline.   When seen in photographs, one cannot imagine the scale of these behemoths. People appear as teeny insects when near them!

I took my paints along for the ride hoping to get the chance to execute some endearing scenes, but, alas, the weather was wet most of the time.  When it wasn't wet, we seemed to be on some mission to be someplace other than at the easel.   On another note, I have always shunned painting in the fog.  To me it has always been depressing . . . . too gray, no shadows, no contrast, etc.  But this trip up the coast of the Pacific Northwest really changed my view of the fog.  I came home completely excited to attempt to capture the restful, beautiful mood of it.   And so I tackled it.  Or so I thought . . . .

What I discovered was the dreaded fear of forgetting how to paint had come true!   I have been so far away from daily painting and improving my skills that I had to face the reality of my fear.   All of us artists have such fears (and others).   For the last two years I have been doing everything BUT painting!  

So a day of reckoning has presented itself.

What am I doing about it?   Painting, of course.   Every single day since we returned home.   Not only painting, but I am putting myself into the toughest circumstances . . . painting outdoors, in the wind, the cold and the fog . . . . right next to the crashing waves here in Santa Cruz.   I have more to post about this in the coming days, so stay tuned.