31 December, 2021.

It’s the last day of 2021, and the time for self reflection has arrived.

Once upon a time my paintings were big. In fact, many of the oil paintings I made were five or six feet wide and larger. My watercolors, like the one above from when I lived in Alaska over 20 years ago, were painted on full sheets.

My drawing has evolved into something of greater simplicity, greater focus, and greater purpose. That’s not to say that I have a laser lock on my work: Looking back upon this past year, I noticed periods of time where my interests went in fairly esoteric directions: if you follow this account, you’ll remember the “crow“ theme emerging, as did a series of images of beat up automobiles.

My interests still relate to things human and things “touched by humans.“ (Define that as you will.) I continue to be very intrigued by the possibilities of using formal design qualities to create visual interest, and to heighten whatever visual narrative is present. Line, shape, space, contrast… I try to use these qualities as effectively as I can. Color and the illusion of space, emphasis and directionality… I try to use these as purposefully as possible.

For the past couple of years I’ve been pining to make large works again. (However, I’ll never go back to oils, I’m too anxious about solvents. Maybe full sheets of watercolor again? Maybe. Graphite? Brush painting with ink…that’s a real possibility.)

I know many of us are setting goals for the coming year. I don’t believe in resolutions, myself, but I do like to set benchmarks – measurable, attainable benchmarks. My practice of sketching has led me towards greater simplicity and stronger narrative: I don’t want to lose the momentum in that regard. Those sketches have helped me to become a better composer, and although most of my sketches stand alone as they are I do want to see others evolve into larger, more finished works. And that is the goal I have for myself in 2022 – keep sketching and let the work flow.

 #happynewyear #watercolor #artist #sketching #design #goals #selfreflections #nature #landscape #alaska

30 December, 2021.

Tuesday began with rain, and at times lots of it. Forecast to be the final warm-ish day of the year at around 50F/10C, the road beckoned once the clouds began to part around mid-morning. Along the way I chanced upon an interesting old Jeep begging to be sketched.

Later in the afternoon the paved sections of a meandering route had dried into puddles. My pista was covered in dried road grime and the spray of mud looked like a printed pattern on my shoes, pants, and the back of my jacket.

For a time, the sky turned blue, the wind was calm, and I had opportunity to stop and sketch alone, and all seemed right in the world.

The Jeep is such a simple design, all blocky and box-like. It almost feels like cheating to draw this vehicle, it’s so basic.

Some of the places I encountered along the way didn’t feel as though they should be sketched in documentary fashion. This stand of trees, for instance, seemed to me to have a storybook flavor to it. I could imagine Hansel and Gretel wandering along a winding path through the trees.

Thus, I played around with a “throwback” style, a graphic children’s book illustration approach I used once upon a time when I made my living as an illustrator/designer.

It’s fun and simple and relies on flat shapes and textures and color combinations more than representational technique. It’s perfect for the combination of painting and pattern and collage that once made up part of my design repertoire.

All in all, it was pretty much a perfect day.

29 December, 2021.

This house boasts a stunningly dense array of junk on the front porch and throughout the yard. Is the place inhabited? Or is it just a convenient place to relocate things unwanted?

27 December, 2021.

Anyone else go sketching with a pencil and neglect to bring a sharpener, or even a pocket knife??? This goes a long way toward explaining why I typically sketch with a pen… 🙂

26 December, 2021.

I keep a sketchbook just for tracking color palettes and mixology. It’s hand made, and fairly crudely bound, but made from rough signatures of one of my favorite “go to” watercolor papers. This helps me test out the mixing together of various color triads, and it definitely helps me keep track of the pigments I have squeezed out onto my palette when it’s time to refill.

24 December, 2021.

These are some of this year’s favorites from the Just Sketching blog and social media. Trends for me (for a while, anyway) included crows and old vehicles. Continuing interests of mine are the “human stuff,” things human or human-made.

23 December, 2021.

Be aware, my fellow diners, because my pen is always listening.

22 December, 2021.

To the south, Liberty nearly abuts the Missouri River. Moving north into the town proper, there’s a gradual incline and the rolling hills rise nearly a thousand feet. It’s not much by Rocky Mountain standards, of course, but it gives local cyclists a little extra leg burn. Outside of town, one looks out over a low lying area where steam rises from the ground nearly every morning.

19 December, 2021.

Sketching fruit – the surface textures, the planes of light and dark – it’s an interesting exercise in drawing and painting. I’m not especially interested in still life, but it’s good practice for handling technique. This top sketch, for instance, was made on a hot press watercolor paper. The finish is quite smooth, and the watercolor paint only sits on top rather than seeping into the fibers of the paper. None of my pigments seem to stain the sheet, and every color seems to lift so easily even after they’ve dried on the paper. It makes get dark darks a bit of a challenge!

A pear, like this one that was on my kitchen counter this morning, has a surprising number of facets upon which light and shadow interact. Each plane has a different value than the next. I often have trouble distinguishing between, the subtleties are so great.

The topic of colors came up recently. One person wanted to know which hues to use for a six color limited palette.

To begin with, the selection of specific hues is a very personal thing. Often as not, it’s driven by fancy to be perfectly honest. I’ve spoken with so many sketchers who’ve selected paints based on a palette they saw on Instagram or Facebook or an artist’s blog.

There’s nothing at all wrong with that. I’m confident that those artists chose the colors they did based upon what has worked best for them. The caveat is, of course, that particular palette may not work best for you.

I find it difficult to work with a six color palette for the same reasons that a three color palette proves elusive: Colors need a neutralizing agent of some sort. For me that neutralizer is green. So while a three color palette of primaries works in theory, I find that in practice I am happier when a fourth green hue is added to gray down the warm colors. (Red, Blue, Yellow, Green, ok?)

My own choice of colors are built around a warm and a cool version of red, blue, and yellow. These six colors do most of the heavy lifting in terms of mixing, but I find it convenient to add a green into the collection to tone down saturation and to build neutrals. (I also find it convenient to vary that green depending upon what I’m painting. For instance, I’ve used the rich, dark, and already somewhat neutral Perylene Green in the example above. Other times I may rely on Sap Green or Winsor Green, especially if I’m working lighter or brighter overall.) Jane’s Gray has also meandered onto my palette, but gets used infrequently – I’m so used to mixing colors that I’ve not found a lot of use for this otherwise excellent hue.

I think I prefer the basic six color + green palette for most sketches and paintings. A limited palette results in greater color harmony because every color tends to be mixed. In fact, I seldom paint with raw, “out-of-the-tube” pure color. The variety of subtle shifts in value and warmth appeal to me; not only that, but simply painting differing values of, say, a peach color to represent skin just doesn’t seem visually interesting. In the example above, I’m happy with the interplay of cool and warm versions of reds and yellow.

The actual hues I use change from time to time, but I’ve experimented with so many different combinations over the years that I’m comfortable with what I’m using. Quinacridone Gold replaced a yellow on my palette at one time, and it’s a hue I’m still not totally comfortable using. It may wind up going away at some point: time will tell.