Camas Prairie Wind & Rain

(Take Note: for those of you who have signed up to be notified by email of new postings to this blog, you have been receiving not just a notification, but an actual copy of the new blog posting as the email.  As this does not show the images of the paintings in the best possible light, you should click on the title of the latest blog posting at the top of the post, and not the title of the painting itself; this will open up the actual blog itself, and you may then enjoy the paintings at their best.)

C1578

"December Rain over Camas Prairie"

(Oregon High Desert)

Oil Sketch on Ampersand Gesso Panel

5" x 7"

Click here to make this your Own

After observing some rather large Elk footprints on the road near my overnight camp, I left the little quarry pond and the Ring-necked Duck to themselves and headed for Lakeview, stopping occasionally to take photographs of Gearhart Mountain on the way.  It was December 10^th by now, and I had been away for a while and was approaching the true open High Desert … but not just yet.  I needed to patronize the local Laundromat in Lakeview, and wash my mud stained clothes, and top up my supplies before the next, and more productive phase, painting-wise, of this foray into the Wild.  Lakeview … tallest town in Oregon … at 4796 feet above sea-level it is the highest town in Oregon; and a surprisingly pleasant little place it is, nestled below the Warner Mountains to the east.  Surprising, since it is unexpected way out here, just above Goose Lake and the extreme northeast California border and with Nevada also only a few miles away as well.  I did not expect it to be as large as it is.  I guess I also expected it to be a dusty poky little place … it is not.  Of course I’ve only been here in Winter, since I first passed through on Thanksgiving Day in 2012 on my way to Oklahoma; and now this time in December. 

The soap dispensing machine was out, and as I was steeling myself to have to buy and carry around a large bottle of soap from the local Safeway, a kindly elderly lady offered me the use of her soap bottle … very kind.  My Carhartt insulated jeans will need another washing or maybe two to get all the ingrained mud out, but at least they are clean enough for now (it actually took only one more washing).  After topping up my supplies and posting my annual membership dues to the AAA (American Automobile Association), I left town at 16:00 with cloud coming in from the southwest, after a lovely sunny day it had been thus far.  The rain and gales from the California coast were on their way, and this time I believed they would reach this far.  The rain had come in off and on since I had left the coast a couple of weeks before, and the wind had been threatening to come, but never had amounted to all that much, but it felt different this time. 

It was late in the day so I only went a few miles to just inside the National Forest boundary, and spent the rainy windy night there.  The next morning I found I had parked near a coyote kill or scavenged site (probably); only bones were left, gnawed and mostly in one spot, but with a few satellite remnants within fifty yards, or so.  This is why I believe it was the work of coyotes; I visualize one or more of a group dragging off a leg bone or other part to feed away from the main kill.  I will say I don’t know this for sure, but I file it away to compare with anything similar I may find in the future.  There was no skull to be found, but by the size of the bones, I believe it was either a young deer or possibly a calf … I found no hooves, so I did not have that bit of diagnostic to go by either … file it away, Spock.

It was still windy and rainy, so I only drove a few miles from the coyote (?) kill/scavenge site, across the valley and up into the Warner Mountains, and found a campsite overlooking Camas Prairie, from which arises Camas Creek.  Here I painted the above Oil Sketch, trying to capture the waterlogged day, over the Camas Prairie.  Evidently the weather is vicious down on the coast, 200 miles away, and once this Pacific Storm blows I look forward to getting out into the open High Desert, even though I find it pleasant here within the Ponderosa Pines.

Imprimatura was W&N Venetian Red, with the Pigments used the usual Rublev Blue Ridge Yellow Ochre, Italian Burnt Sienna & Lead White #2, with Winsor & Newton Venetian Red and Cobalt and Ultramarine Blues.

Finally Painting again … Sycan Marsh

(Take Note: for those of you who have signed up to be notified by email of new postings to this blog, you have been receiving not just a notification, but an actual copy of the new blog posting as the email.  As this does not show the images of the paintings in the best possible light, you should click on the title of the latest blog posting at the top of the post, and not the title of the painting itself; this will open up the actual blog itself, and you may then enjoy the paintings at their best.)

C1577

"Overcast Day over Sycan Marsh … Yamsay Mountain lost in Cloud"

(Oregon High Desert)

Oil Sketch on Winsor & Newton Canvas Panel

5" x 7"

Click here to make this your Own

Imprimatura: W&N Venetian Red

Pigments used were Rublev Blue Ridge Yellow Ochre, Italian Burnt Sienna & Lead White #2, with Winsor & Newton Venetian Red and Cobalt and Ultramarine Blues.  There … tech stuff out of the way.

The morning of December 8^th was spent within a three quarters of a mile of the incident, cleaning and maintaining my tools and my ancient pair of Sorel boots; these latter are decades old, and still good, since I’ve not had much occasion to use them having spent all those years in Cornwall, England, where the weather rarely gets below freezing.  I had lost a week’s painting, but there were other returns.  There was a certain pride in having faced a life threatening situation and had not been found wanting, and having had such an experience should serve me well in the future.  Many others have been tested and weathered similar as a matter of course, and others have failed, while many others have never had to face such a test and will never know.  In the weeks since, I have briefly related this story to a few acquaintances, with varying reactions.  I would have freaked, was one, which seemed to have been the general sentiment, especially by those who would never be out there at that time of the year; that is very understandable.  Since I choose to go into the wild places, I am glad to have had the experience, as I now know how I will likely react when unforeseen occurrences appear somewhere down the pike.  I too freaked during the initial moments of discovering I was stuck, and that I was going to lose 3 hours of a painting day while I gathered dead sage and fallen juniper branches to get myself unstuck.  But when I realized that the branches and sage had not worked, freaking out and annoyance was no longer an option, and cool reflection was the order of the day.  A relatively minor 3 hour annoyance can afford the luxury of the odd freak out, but when it becomes clear that the annoyance is larger, and a day or two (or seven), is what is necessary to retrieve the situation, the mindset must change to meet the new situation. 

And so after cleanup and lunch I proceeded a few miles down the road and decided on a Ponderosa grove, on NFD 27, overlooking Sycan Marsh for my campsite, still at about 5500’, and I would paint the view from here the next morning.  Many of these High Desert Marshes seem to be mostly grazing land, and are marshes in the Spring when the snow melts or in high precipitation years.  Perhaps there are areas of bog, but they are not what I grew up to think of as a marsh, back in the Midwest; I expect I would change my mind after a period of heavy precipitation; I’m still getting a handle on this varied High Desert landscape. 

It was generally overcast the next morning, even though the Moon had been out most of the night, and only the base of Yamsay Mountain, across the level of Sycan Marsh was visible below the cloud base.  I could see the odd patch of snow on its slopes.  Occasional rain blotted out the mountain and the far side of the Marsh a couple of times during the painting session, but the hoped for clearing never occurred, so I never was able to glimpse the contour of the top ... another time.  After painting I had a couple of hours of daylight left so I continued on towards Winter Ridge, to the east, hoping to reach the rim overlooking Summer Lake, but as the altitude there is at 7000’ I ran into snow on the road, and decided I would not risk that, even though there were tire tracks I might have followed; that’s what got me stuck on the flat.  The radio was talking about wind in the forecast, which could translate to more snow up at altitude, and as it was late afternoon now, I risked it not.  I was stopped by snow covered roads twice more, on NFD 29, attempting to get down to Summer Lake 3000’ lower, and then on NFD 28 just before Bald Butte, attempting to get down towards Lakeview.  In the end I retraced to NFD 30 which would take me down to Hwy 140, not far east of Beatty, and on to Lakeview, and a Launderette, the next morning.  That night I spent off of NFD 30, near a small quarry pond, with a lone female Ring-necked Duck in residence.

Last photo of the Road.  This is just before I attempted my final escape and before I had to extend it a bit to the left on the far bank (the left bank), and here on the left of the right bank (extreme left foreground) towards the viewer, after I reversed the truck onto this extreme left part of the turnaround, here seen in the foreground.  This is where I ended up prizing stones out from the right hand side of the turnaround and laying them over on the left towards the viewer, and also on the far bank.  This Saga is now over for this blog … thank goodness, I hear you cry.

Thanksgiving Day above the Smith River

C1575

"A Change in the Weather"

(Above the Middle Fork of the Smith River,

Siskiyou Mountains, Northern California)

Oil Sketch on Ampersand Gesso Panel

With additional coat of Rublev Lead Primer

5" x 7"

Click here to make this your Own

(Take Note: for those of you who have signed up to be notified by email of new postings to this blog, you have been receiving not just a notification, but an actual copy of the new blog posting as the email.  As this does not show the images of the paintings in the best possible light, you should click on the title of the latest blog posting at the top of the post, and not the title of the painting itself; this will open up the actual blog itself, and you may then enjoy the paintings at their best.)

Back in mid-November I headed for the Oregon High Desert, but I did not go straight there.  I had paintings to deliver and pick up down on the Oregon Coast, so time was spent on that business before I could turn inland.  My first order of business was to stop by the Coos Art Museum, to retrieve the two Watercolours which had been in the Maritime Show there last Summer, images of which I included in my very first Blog Post (here).  After further deliveries were completed, I dipped down into the Redwoods country of Northern California, which one must do when travelling from the southern Oregon Coast, to the interior of Oregon.  I spent some time visiting those massive trees before moving on.  I include a photograph with my SUV to give you a sense of scale of these Redwoods; I urge my readers in Cornwall to consider your own vehicle when next parked near a British tree, and then marvel at this photo.  I can’t emphasize enough the feeling of wonder I experience every time I visit the Redwoods.  And thus I turned inland.

SUV amongst the Redwoods, California

I traveled up the Middle Fork of the Smith River, mentally filing away possible future paintings, and as it was late in the day looking for Forest roads that might offer a campsite.  At Gasquet California, I found one, following its twists and turns and finally climbing more than 1500’ above the valley floor before choosing a site perched on the high slopes.  Thanksgiving Day, being the next day I intended to stay at least two nights here, and so did.  I was up early the next morning and after a quick breakfast began to paint the view east from my campsite.  I never did determine exactly what Siskiyou Mountain peaks those were in the distance, as the weather was on the turn, with cloud rapidly coming in, and with high winds in the forecast.  After painting in the morning, I had a leisurely afternoon, and preparing my Thanksgiving meal of smoked Salmon on a bed of cous-cous and vegetables.  

It began to rain overnight.  I had intended to stay on the forest road high above the valley, and follow it until it intersected the main highway, 30 miles or so down the road, and would hopefully allow chances to identify the distant peaks in the painting; it was not to be.  The rain made that un appealing since I would be lost in the cloud with little to view, and as I was wanting to get as far inland as I could before the high winds began near the coast, I dropped down the mountainside to the main highway along the Smith Rover, and on to southern Oregon.  I eventually reached the Crater Lake area and decided on a campsite 17 miles down the mountain from the Crater rim.

Pigments used for the Oil Sketch are the usual suspects: Imprimatura Venetian Red; Others were Rublev Blue Ridge Yellow Ochre, Italian Burnt Sienna; Winsor & Newton Cobalt & Cerulean Blues, Venetian Red and Cremnitz White.  There … the tech-heads amongst you are now satisfied, I trust.

Once more into The Redwoods Country, Dear Friends

C1568

"Bones of the Fallen"

(On the Nickerson Ranch Trail Jedidiah Smith Redwood State Park, near Crescent City, CA)

Oil Sketch on Centurion Oil Primed Linen Panel

With additional coat of Williamsburg Lead Primer

5" x 7"

Click here to make this your Own

C1567

"Morning among the Giants"

(In the Stout Grove, Jedidiah SmithRedwood State Park, near Crescent City, CA)

Oil Sketch on Centurion Oil Primed Linen Panel

With additional coat of Williamsburg Lead Primer

5" x 7"

Click here to make this your Own

(Take Note: for those of you who have signed up to be notified by email of new postings to this blog, you have been receiving not just a notification, but an actual copy of the new blog posting as the email. As this does not show the images of the paintings in the best possible light, you should click on the title of the latest posting, to open up the actual blog itself, and enjoy the paintings at their best.)

You will have noticed the inclusion of the image from the previous posting, since the Redwoods will be the topic of the present essay in this journal. Having spent the night at the Oregon Redwoods trailhead, and breakfasted, I got underway and arrived at the information bureau of the Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park, after successfully negotiating "customs" at the California State Border; it never ceases to amuse me of this quaint Californian tradition! For those who have never crossed the CA State Line, one must stop at an inspection booth, where you are asked whether you are carrying any ... fresh fruit or vegetables, not grass, hash or cocaine ... but fresh fruit or vegetables! Okay I suppose they have their reasons, but I'm always waiting for the Monty Python's Team to pop out of the bushes ... they never do. This time I discovered that the fresh "fruit or vegetables" involved are those from farmer's markets or pick your own establishments, and not usually those from super markets ... except when certain of these categories are on the "watch list;" cherries this time. I had nothing fresh with me, other than myself, being partially ripe, it having been three days since my weekly shower, and I successfully passed through. I must add for the peace of mind of those of you out there of a delicate disposition, that although I visit a State Park Campground once a week and pay my $2 to have a hot shower, I do wash me essentials daily with 80/20 mixture of Witch Hazel and Isopropyl Alcohol, thus slaughtering untold millions of oder producing microbes ... I learned that trick on line from some hard-core outdoor site ... isn't technology wonderful? I have greatly digressed.

After a little time at the info bureau, I proceeded to enter the Park proper. The road was gravel, and everything was dust coated within a few yards of the roadway, but nevertheless the trees took your breath away as the road wound around and through groupings of the massive trunks. After a couple hundred yards, or so, the truck was parked and an unofficial footpath was followed into the trees and past the dustline. Not a few minutes were spent there getting a feel for the Forest, and thinking about how to tackle this subject with paint. This continued to be mulled over while continuing the meander along the road, pulling over occasionally to contemplate the awesomeness of this Wood! Awsome is what it was, and I use it in this case in spite of the term having been devalued by over use in the common language over the past 25 years or so. But take the word and think about its true meaning as you read it here ... Awesome ... causing feelings of fear and wonder (and reverence) ... full of awe ... or put it another way, as though you were back in England, "Oi ... Oi wuz gob-smacked, Guv'nor!" That being translated would be, "I ... I was greatly impressed, Boss!"

The Stout Grove of Redwoods was reached and finding a parking space on the 2nd time around the small parking area, lunch was eaten, and then a stroll begun through the grove. Five years ago I first visited the Redwoods of northern California,to the Ladybird Johnson Grove & to the Tall Trees Grove, the latter only approached by receiving a limited permit and the combination to a locked gate (the number changed daily), which gets you onto a 9 mile desperate dirt road, and the trailhead at its end, and then ahalf a mile walk and dropping 400' in altitude, finally arriving at the Tall Trees themselves. They were impressive, but there is something about the Jed Smith Redwoods that seemed to touch me more; something more intimate maybe, even though the trees seem to be as massive as those I remember from the Tall Trees. It might be that there is more of a feeling of being within a whole forest of these giants, since the road does wind 6 or more miles through them, and the Stout Grove in particular seems to have closer groupings, and thus a greater intimacy. There seemed to be the ability to capture the feel of these giants on camera (if that's at all possible)here, unlike the Ladybird Johnson Grove where there were so many native Rhodadendrons, that made up the understory, that it was next to impossible to find a shot that did those trees justice. One thing I do remember about the Tall Trees Grove was the widowmaker stuck in the ground here and there, these being limbs from on high that had broken off at some time and in falling had driven themselves into the earth like Olympian spears; one hoped to hear the cracking of a branch first in warning were this to occur during one's stroll!

I found a space off the main footpaths where I could contemplate, and where some of these thoughts began to solidify. Here I collected my thoughts, and perhaps it would be here that I might try my first Oil Sketch of these venerable Grandfathers; but not until the next day; I realized I needed this day to just absorb their impact upon me. In their own way they are as impressive as the Grand Canyon, which first I saw in October last. And so on this day I walked, and looked, and saw these awesome trees, contemplating how I might attempt to do them justice, and drove slowly through the remainder of the Forest, stopping to just look, and walking on further trails, and taking it all in. 

Forests are places of wonder, but unless you encountered them and came to terms with them at a young age it is probable that you will never understand this ineffable truth. And they come in different flavors ... my favorite flavor of forest is the northern boreal forest surrounding the upper Great Lakes, especially that found in northeastern Minnesota and extending across ancient rocks of the Canadian Shield to the Hudson's Bay area. There is to be found that unique combination of deep, dark woods and the light and openess of water in the form of numerous lakes, ponds and rivers. These were my first forests and will always hold the number one place in my being, even though their trees do not approach the size of most of those in the Pacific Nortwest west of the Cascades Range; but there is ample wonder there ... and here is ample wonder too, amongst these giant Redwoods; most would say more-so, and I wouldn't disagree save that they were not my first forest. And here I am now within this forest of magnificence ... contemplating ... wondering.

Thus the next day, on the Tuesday, I returned from my latest forest road campsite, and painted the above two Oil Sketches. During my musings of the previous day, I had decided on several possible places to paint, the first of which was that place off the main pathways in the Stout Grove, mentioned earlier (this would be image "C1567" the painting in the last post published before this one, and the second image above). The size of these massive trees would have to be suggested from just the lowest sections of their trunks, which would take up large portions of the composition, and this should begin to hint that these were not your everyday Douglas Firs or Western Hemlocks being depicted, but something else again entirely. The clumps of ferns at their bases would serve to suggest their scale as well. Seen through the foreground trunks in the distance, there appear smaller ordinary species, and these also provide a foil to the true giants close to. Hopefully this has all helped to indicate the scale of these wonders.

In the afternoon I moved on to one of the other trails I had walked the day before as these stumps had caught my eye, as another way to deal with the sheer size of the Redwood, along with those methods in the first sketch. The two stumps on the fight are about 8' in diameter and the one on the left shows only about half of its 15' width. The trunk just left of center, extending upwards out of the picture, is an offspring of the far stump and perhaps got its start before the main tree fell. Most of these giants are clones of those immediately surrounding them, and come from the same growth. Only one out of a million Redwoods actually grow from the seeds found in their tiny olive sized cones, as I overheard a ranger say to a group walking in the Stout Grove. 

As I said in the last posting, the red earth pigment Terra Rosa was used as the imprimatura, on both these sketches, and the block-ins were done with Ultramarine. The other pigments used were Yellow Ochre, Naples Yellow Genuine (by Vasari), Venetian Red, Cerulean, Cobalt & Ultramarine Blues (to mix the greens), and Cremnitz White (all colours by W&N, except where otherwise stated). A bit of Cadmium Yellow was also used in C1568 (the stumps).

Into the Redwoods Country

C1567

"Morning among the Giants"

(In the Stout Grove, Jedidiah SmithRedwood State Park, near Crescent City, CA)

Oil Sketch on Centurion Oil Primed Linen Panel

With additional coat of Williamsburg Lead Primer

5" x 7"

Click here to make this your Own

(Take Note: for those of you who have signed up to be notified by email of new postings to this blog, you have been receiving not just a notification, but an actual copy of the new blog posting as the email. As this does not show the images of the paintings in the best possible light, you should click on the title of the latest posting, to open up the actual blog itself, and enjoy the paintings at their best.)

Down on the coast the wind had dropped after five days, but I had a blog post to get out, a lot of emails to clear, since I had not been into the library for a week, and resupply to take care of, and so that was the Friday taken care of. In the evening I watched the moon & stars and worked a bit on another blog post, intending to fire it off early in the morning at the library before getting out to paint. It was still and quiet in the forest, save for the occasional hooting of a Great Horned Owl somewhere off amongst the trees, and I kept my ears attuned for any sound that might alert me to any furry visitor that might wander by, and kept my bear spray at hand, while I worked, and watched the night sky. 

The next morning the new blog post was checked and tidied up before leaving camp, and off I went to post it at the Brookings library. That one did not get posted, but the one entitled "Monitors" did. My screen had been black when i opened it at the library, and three hours had been wasted trying to work out what might be wrong and seeing if I might be able to fix it myself, should that have been possible; but I had detected a ghost image of my desktop on the screen. I reasoned that it would be brighter in the dark of the forest night, and so I went out to the coast and ended up drawing in my sketchbook and taking photos at Lone Ranch Beach ... and worrying about the computer. And that night in camp I opened up the laptop, turned it on with bated breath, and ... nothing! I turned on my Petzl headlamp, and noticed that when the light was held close to the screen that the ghost image appeared. With great difficulty (the screen being so dim I kept losing the cursor), I managed to transfer recent photographs and scans to my exterior hard drive. That ability also told me that it was a screen problem and not anything to do with the hard drive itself; it could have been worse. 

Bright and early the next morning (Sunday by now), a final check of my campsite was done as I prepared to head out for a day of painting, when I noticed my very important notebook, containing all the information for each new painting begun, was not in it's usual place. Five hours were spent rifling through the truck, visiting the various places where I might have dropped it after last being seen at the library the day before (but closed on Sundays), and inquiring at the state park offices on the chance it might have been turned in, with no success. I have gone on at length with the foregoing to illustrate that it is not all straightforward painting and drawing, and enjoying the Great Outdoors, but that the best laid plans often go astray, just as in normal life. But there is an important difference, between camp life and normal life, and that is that in camp life the Sun, or lack thereof plays a more important role, and thus I can no longer work late into the night painting as I used to do. Therefore days such as the previous two are very disruptive to the work. Incidently, the notebook was found two days later, where I had placed it for safekeeping; a case of self inflicted wounds! 

To make use of the rest of the day I went down to the Winchuck River, just north of the California border, and stopped in to the National Forest Information Bureau, to enquire about the lonely grove of Redwood trees on the Oregon side of the border, thinking that the recent time lost over the past two days would negate my former plans to go on down below the border to see the Redwoods in northern California. They informed me that although the Oregon grove was a beautiful walk in itself, there was no comparison to those groves 45 minutes away at the Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park outside Crescent City, California. It being mid-afternoon by this time, I opted for the Oregon Redwoods 6 miles away up the Winchuck River. It was a beautiful forest stroll of about a mile and a half, stopping occasionally to drink in the forest, attempt photos, and the odd drawing. The night was spent at the Trailhead, as I had decided to take in the Redwoods at Jedediah Smith on the morrow, and here was a convenient place to start from in the morning; this is one of the advantages of mobile camp life ... opportunities of the moment acted upon.

In the next posting I hope to wax lyrical about astonishing trees, but since I have included the first of my Redwood paintings above, I give the following information for the tech-heads and the interested amongst you. Although an Earth Red imprimatura is used quite often in my work, here is the perfect case for the use of such Earth Red (Terra Rosa in this case) underpaint layers; the quiet red helps the overlying and complementary greens to sing, and any spots where the following layers might be missed in the more rapid application of paint in a sketch, the red that shows through the above layers unifies rather than jars, as would a bright white priming with no overlying imprimatura. The block-in was done with Ultramarine, and other pigments used were Yellow Ochre, Naples Yellow Genuine (by Vasari), Venetian Red, Cerulean, Cobalt & Ultramarine Blues (to mix the greens), and Cremnitz White (all colours by W&N, except where otherwise stated).

My Morning View

C1564

"Above the Chetco early morning Mist"

(Siskiyou National Forest, near Brookings, Oregon Coast)

Oil Sketch on Centurion Oil Primed Linen Panel

With additional coat of Williamsburg Lead Primer

5" x 7"

Click here to make this your Own

(Take Note: for those of you who have signed up to be notified by email of new postings to this blog, you have been receiving not just a notification, but an actual copy of the new blog posting as the email. As this does not show the images of the paintings in the best possible light, you should click on the title of the latest posting, to open up the actual blog itself, and enjoy the paintings at their best.)

I have taken my laptop into Frys, and it must be sent off to repair the screen; it appears the "backscreen" has failed, and I will be 6 to 8 weeks without it. It took a few days to travel back north up the coast, painting here and there, and so there is a time gap between doing the actual paintings and when they are posted in this journal, especially so relying only on my newish tablet to get the job done. Patience is a virtue, so they say, so in the meantime let us all be highly virtuous. Ahhh ... I love the smell of virtue in the morning; it smells like ... Victory!*

The first several mornings in my campsite a few miles up in the mountains above Brookings, I have awoken to mist in the valleys below, sometimes even surrounding my camp, to later burn off in the mrning sun. The above painting gives an idea of what I arise to each day, with the dawn light gilding the tree tops, and yet to touch the mist in the Chetco River valley below. It was a Monday when I stayed in camp and painted this scene. I had thought about it since the first morning ai camped here, but it took the first windy day experienced in Brookings for me to decide to retreat to the hills instead of braving the wind (yet again) of the coast; the wind lasted for four days. The forest is usually not this open in these coastal mountains, but here there had been a partial cut at some point in the past. 

The evenings were generally wonderfully clear, and I was able to enjoy a bit of star gazing; I witnessed two of the finest bolides I have ever seen, both with long trains, and one of them travelled about a third of visible sky before being lost behind the trees. Incidently , a bolide is an exceptionately bright and long lasting meteor.

An imprimatura of Venetian Red was again used, upon which the compositional block-in was drawn with a brush in Ultramarine mixed with M. Graham's Walnut Alkyd Medium. The pigments used were Yellow Ochre (W&N), and Rublev's Blue Ridge Yellow Ochre, which is brighter than the Winsor & Newton, Rublev's Italian Burnt Sienna, Venetian Red, Cerulean, Cobalt and Ultramarine Blues, and Cremnitz White. 

Things are getting interesting on the "poo" front. Less than half a mile from my campsite, on the road out, there was a large berry filled pile in the road, that was not there the day before; definitely bear scat this time, confirmed by a wandering bow-hunter who passed through my campsite. Although I was certain of its identity before we spoke, it was nice to have another opinion.

*(to loosely paraphrase Robert Duvall in Apocolypse Now).

Why a Sketch is not a Painting.

C1563

"North towards Cape Ferrelo,

(Harris Beach, Brookings, Oregon Coast)

Oil Sketch on Centurion Oil Primed Linen Panel

Click here to make this your Own

(I managed to make a post using my tablet.  It was not easy, since I am not used to the workings of a tablet; it may allow me to continue posting while my laptop is being repaired, albeit less frequent.  Thanks for bearing with me.)

This work is a good example of an Oil Sketch and not a small Painting. Sometimes, as I have stated in an earlier post, there is a fine line between what may be deemed a sketch or a painting. Sometimes it may boil down to mere intent, as there seemingly may not be much of a difference between the two. A sketch is often done to gather information for a possible, or actual, larger work, and at other times it is done for the sheer joy of it, and with nothing further in mind for its use at any later date, although who's to say that it might not ultimately be used as such a reference? A sketch is also generally looser and just plain, well … sketchy, although not always. Confused yet? 

The intentions for these "Not Quite a Painting a Day," works are as sketches, but some do turn out to be actual small paintings, complete in themselves; but not this one. Let me describe the day and how it went, and perhaps this will show that the conditions under which a work was done may decide what it becomes. There was a lot of blue sky with a bit of cloud on the northern horizon as I drove through Brookings on my way Harris Beach, but by the time I loaded up my painting outfit and trucked on down to the shore, that northern cloud had come racing in. It wasn't a complete overcast, but mostly high cirrus and mackerel clouds with a lot of sun poking through. Then by the time my painting site was chosen and gear set up, banks of fog began to roll through, coming and going. 

The block-in using Ultramarine proceeded over the Venetian Red imprimatura, and then came the first problem … what to do about the sky. I had liked he sky as it was when I first arrived at the carpark, mostly blue with cirrus, but now the intermittent fog banks were regularly obscuring the higher mackerel sky. Then here was a longish break, and I began to dash in the higher cloud as the banks of fog were now out beyond Cape Ferrelo in the distance, partially obscuring the two sea-stacks beyond. While I was working on this the fog rolled in, and I continued working on the sky from memory. Later after I went on to the sea and the stacks & islands close to, the sky got really nice, but there was no time to go back; the decision and the work had been done as far as the sky was concerned. I pretty much described these closer rocks and shore as they were, including the white block of rock on the extreme right. The pattern of light and shade, on these, deviates from the original block-in. Time had passed and the shadow patterns had become more interesting than the few shadows evident at the beginning. The strip of blue creek crossing the sand in the foreground was dashed in with two or three brush strokes … nice and sketchy.

So, back to the original premise of this being deemed a sketch and not a small painting, and an informational sketch at that? The sky is not thought out as well as it might have been, but is a transcription of a few moments within a series of "few moments," any of which might have been jotted down, and some others would have worked better; but it does remain as a reference that might be used in some future work, and for that it remains valuable in and of itself. The white rock on the right sticks out like a sore thumb, as it does in reality, and might be a case of either eliminating it altogether from the work, or composing the scene in such a way as to better incorporate it within the composition of a future painting. It was there and those who know the area would be able to identify which beach the painting was done on, so decisions would have to be made if this were to be more than an informational sketch. The shadows on the rocks became more interesting than those of the original block-in, and I many times begin these afternoon sketches, knowing that this will be the case, so this is not a real problem. It is more of a problem in the morning, as the mid-day light dissolves away the interesting shadow patterns seen at the beginning of a mornings work; then it behooves the painter to block in the shadows and stick to it throughout the work session. With these things under consideration then, this work is best considered an informational sketch, rather than a well thought out painting, but as such it contains much value for future work, as well as for the experience gained in the actual painting of it. The more of these sketches one does gives one the experience to make the essential decisions rapidly and thus allowing some of them to become actual complete paintings, in spite of the original intentions.

I have mentioned the imprimatura and the block-in, so the other pigments used were Cerulean, Cobalt & Ultramarine Blues, Yellow Ochre, Venetian Red and Cremnitz White, with a bit of Titanium White for the brightest whites of the waves.