Day 6--30 Paintings in 30 Days. Tall House With Blue Door.

Tall House With Blue Door.  Watercolor.
Approximately 9.5 x 5.75 inches.

Roadside Barn

Roadside Barn.  Watercolor.
Approximately 10 x 14 inches

In a continuing theme, another barn.  This one is more reality base, which means I used a reference photo taken below on a trip from Columbus, OH back to Cincinnati last year.  I'm using the photo just for the shape of the barn, and a little bit as the suggestion of the landscape.  Once I had the barn organized, I stopped looking at the photo.

I did another painting based on a photo from this same trip, which you can find here.  And, I've been doing lots of barns and buildings lately, just for fun.  I need to take a day trip, and snap some more photos.  

The palette is Quinacridone burnt orange, prussian blue, and nickel azo yellow.  On Kilamanjaro 300 lb cold press paper.

I may still need to dim down the barn.  Will think on that.

I did get called away, mid-painting, so I snapped a pic on my way, you can see that at the bottom.

Trying Yupo. Or, Where I Produce Amoebas

Yupo I.  Watercolor on Yupo.
Smaller than 9 x 12 inches.

Several years ago, I was wandering on Michigan Avenue near the Bean in Chicago, waiting to meet a friend for lunch, and I wandered into Ultrecht.  I ended up buying a bunch of things (an artist in an art supply store?  come on, of course I'm going to spend money), one of which was a pad of Yupo paper. Yupo, in case you've never tried it, is synthetic watercolor paper.  It's diametrically opposed to regular watercolor paper, which in my case, is 100% cotton.

I tried it once.  It was really.....different.

Then, recently, I've been thinking about it.  I've seen some super interesting paintings done on Yupo, and I wanted to try again.  Voila!  Amoebas!  Actually, I lie, although I know I tend to be flip, I like the painting, and I really like the way the paint moved across the paper.  It takes a lot of paint though. A LOT. And, I'm having trouble controlling the movement and shapes, which I'm going to assume is a practice issue.  This started out as a landscape.  Truly.

Paper--Yupo.  Paint--Daniel Smith Indigo, Phtalo Blue RS, Nickel Azo Yellow, Quin Burnt Orange, and then a touch of Quin Red.

Trees, trees, trees.

Oregon Trail In Fall.  Watercolor and Crayon.
Full Sheet.

I've been messing about with this all afternoon.  I'm not entirely sure that it is done, but I'm stopping for the day.  It is a stand of trees sighted on a street I drive ad naseum each day.  If you have young teens in your household, you can probably relate.  Hate the driving; love the trees.

Some things of note--this is on 140 lb cold press paper, and was buckling like mad.  It is near a full sheet, or nearly 30 x 22 inches (it'll need to be cropped a tad).  I'm using three yellows, three blues and a purple.  That's twice the number of colors I'd typically use, and I'm not sure that was a wise choice.  Then, there's an overlay in the 'sky' with a gray crayon.

Also of note--I set the doofus crayon down randomly and it took me 20 minutes to locate it.  This is not unusual.   Once, I set my keys in the library stacks....it's a chronic problem.

Almost Fall

Almost Fall.  Watercolor.
6.5 x 9.75 inches

School started early this year, and my boys have been back at it for a week. I associate the start of school with fall, and am anxious to have some interesting colors starting to show up in the leaf canopy. Technically, it's been a wet and cool summer, and everything is still, well, green as can be. But, I'm starting to dream about fall.

Fabriano 300 lb rough paper, prussian blue, quin burnt orange, ultramarine blue, and indian yellow--all daniel smith.

Is it abstract?

Jackmanii.  Watercolor.
10.5 x 5.5 inches. 

An interesting debate cropped up on a Facebook Group that I lurk in--what constitutes an abstract painting?  The debate had practical application as well--the Group's Admin was deleting posts with art that didn't qualify per his definition of abstract.  One side of the argument was that to be abstract, the art had to be entirely non-representational.  The other side, advocated that by definition, all paintings are abstract because they reduce three dimensional to two dimensional.

I think there's a broad spectrum--if you're a highly realistic painter, just about anything else is going to seem abstract, for example.  Ultimately, though, I think if you're the volunteer Group Admin, you can run your group however you please, and what the Group Admin decides counts as abstract is the definition.  

Anyhow, this is a pseudo-abstract--riffing off the clematis growing in my garden.

300 lb Fabriano hot press
Daniel smith quin gold, phthalo blue rs, carbazole violet, a little cobalt blue, and a touch of crayon.

Blue Roof

Blue Roof.  Watercolor.
4.5 x 4 inches.

Just a quick post.  Things have not slowed down yet--we have a major house project that started last Monday, the boys finished school this morning, and we've been had out of town guests (althoug, luckily, not staying with us.)  It's a major accomplishment to just paint.

Indigo, cobalt blue, and Indian Yellow (I think--my paint box is downstairs.)  It may be nickel azo....
On a scrap of....I'm not sure!  It's some kind of 300 lb paper, probably cold press.

Love A Pear....

Pear Apparent.  Watercolor.
Approximately 12 x 20 inches.

This painting is dedicated to Marilyn Bishop--we're part of the same critique group, and when I saw her last week, she'd done a painting inspired by some pomegranants I painted at the end of last year (call me flattered). I don't think I ever blogged about them, but they were up on facebook here.

The Challenging Part of Spring

To The Light.  Watercolor and Crayon.
5.5 x 9.5 inches.

It's been an incredibly busy spring.  As beautiful as the season is, it tends to be overwhelming. Added to the mix--I started a part time administrative job a few months ago, with a lovely pair of attorneys. Couldn't ask for nicer bosses, and I enjoy the job, but even after a couple of months, I haven't quite adjusted so that I can paint every day.  

Siberian Iris, Redux

Siberian Iris, Redux.  Watercolor.
10 x 6.5 inches.

Spring is sprung in Cincinnati, and the flowers are starting to bloom.  Each and every spring, I get caught in the iris.  It's hard to resist these flowers.  They seem to float.  You can see last year's painting here, and then one from last January here.

The best part about this painting, is that it's on hot press paper (Fabriano 300 lb) and there is not anything but watercolor.  I am going to conquer the hot press, thank-you very much.

Phthalo blue red scale, hansa yellow medium, and quinacridone pink--all by Daniel Smith.

It's not easy being green....

Blue Abstract.  Watercolor and Crayon.
7 x 10.5 inches.

Rats--I thought I'd posted this, and I had not.  It was sitting as a draft.  Here you go, a bit later than I intended....

I know, I know--that's a blatant rip off of Kermit and The Muppets.

I own green paint, I really do, but I've used it less and less over the last year or two.  When I reset my palettes recently, I put out two greens--one is phthalo green and the other is ....I can't remember, but that gives you an idea of how often I use it.....

When I sat down to paint, I was thinking abstract, and decided to try phthalo green, phthalo blue, and burnt umber (I think).  Then I threw in some quin pink.  Then--well it was not looking cohesive.  I ended up adding caran d'ache, and then more opaque grayed watercolors over the top.

It's on Fabriano hot press 300 lb watercolor paper.

Red Buds Spotted on the Hill

Red Buds On The Hill.  Watercolor.
Approximately 22 x 30 inches.

I live at the top of a hill.  If you weren't aware, the glaciers pretty much flattened most of Ohio, but stopped just shy of the southern part of the state.  As you travel south through Ohio on the expressways, it is flat, flat, flat, and then with no warning, it drops into hills.  

A Spring Storm Abstract

Spring Storm.  Mixed Media.
Approximately 22 x 30 inches.

Last week, on the way home from the grocery store, a huge storm front came in from the east.  (Now that I think about it--that's unusual, they usually come from the west.)  The trees were just barely starting to leaf out and were that particular vibrant first yellow-green, and juxtaposed against the storm looked pretty amazing.

Now you're probably wondering what the painting above has to do with that--well it started as that storm front, and then took off on its own adventure.  Apparently, my hand doesn't always listen to my brain.  This piece started as a straight up watercolor, then I added some crayon, then some acrylic, more crayon, and finally, I borrowed some opaque watercolors from Barb Smucker for a final layer. I'm still thinking about it.  I think I will add it to my dark and dense group of paintings.

Over The Rhine In Cincinnati

OTR Abstracted.  Watercolor.
Approximately 22x30 inches.

I was just down at the Pendelton Center in Over The Rhine for the first class in a workshop on painting abstracts. The class is by Barb Smucker, and it was a ton of fun.  She offers guidelines, but in the end, it comes down to no holds barred, try anything you want.  We're not working on producing "ART," but are trying various techniques.  Yesterday was all about line.  Black lines.  You'd be surprised about how many different ways there are to make black lines.  She had india ink and brushes and pens and charcoal and paint pens, and oil pastels, and....well, you get the idea.  I made a huge mess, and had a fantastic time.

Anyhow, as you drive down Pendelton St. to get to the Center, you can see a jumble of houses and buildings climbing the hill.  It was hard to resist, so I gave the painting a whirl last night.  I'm not sure I'm done.  Still thinking.  My boys laugh at the amount of time I spend thinking about paintings. They think it is quite over the top.  Still, I have to think on it.  In particular, I'm thinking about the sky line and the horizon line.

Another huge painting.  I don't know what I'm going to do with all these big paintings, but they're sure to paint.

The details:  Fabriano 300 lb Rough Watercolor Paper.  Daniel Smith Watercolors:  Indian Yellow, Perinone Orange, Manganese Blue Hue, Quinacridone Pink and Quinacridone Purple.

Seen Between Columbus and Cincinnati

Ohio Roadside.  Watercolor.
10 x 14 ish

Spring, for whatever reason, tips easily over into a frantic pace.  We barely have time to breathe, let alone sit down and relax.  I'm not sure if that's a symptom of our time, the age of our kids, or some undetermined factor.  But, it can be exhausting, and worse, hard to find time to paint.

Small Studies With Two Colors

A set of four paintings in ultramarine blue and quinacridone burnt orange (Daniel Smith).  All approximately 3 x 3 inches (ish) on Lanquerelle 140 lb cold press paper.  Done just to paint on a beautiful day.  

I find that I need my reading glasses more and more to use the computer, and then I'm torn about whether or not to paint with them.  I started these paintings without my glasses (bottom two) and finished with them.  I just can't decide.

And Back Again

Pink House (revised).  Mixed Media.
Slightly smaller than a full sheet!

I finally got my house where I'd like it to be.  It took three or four loop backs and major changes for the entire thing to hang together in an interesting manner.  Call out to  RH Carpenter for her feed back on an earlier version of this painting.

What did I change?  The house grew, the sky went dark.   The foreground went pinker and then darker.  I'm hoping I didn't get the caran d'ache crayon mixed into my paints.  There's a lot more crayon.  I put watercolor over acrylic, which hopefully will not peel or otherwise flake off.  In between, I tried more buildings, trees, a path......)

Part of my issue may be that I am fiscally conservative (you can interpret that as cheap--my kids say the cheapest mom in town), and when I paint so large, in the back of my mind is a chant--you're wasting a sheet, you're wasting a sheet.  I have to let that go.  It ruins the joy of the process.

Huh. The trials of working on a larger size....

Pink House.  Mixed Media.  In progress.
Approximately 20 x 32 inches.

I've been trying to get a full sheet painting organized, and it's a struggle.  I'm putting this up, but it's still a work in progress, and it's already on its third iteration.  It's watercolor, crayon, and acrylic.

I'm not sure it can be saved, but it can't hurt to try.  I think I'm going to back with some warmer colors in the foreground and maybe just over the horizon line.  I only own one acrylic brush, and about three colors, so that's not a huge option....but, I'll see what i can do with crayon.

Tulips to Abstract

Some Assembly Required.  Watercolor and Crayon.
About 12 x 20 inches.

I'm falling behind on my blogging. I have paintings, but I haven't gotten them up online. And, I find that if I don't do an entry right away, my memory is not fantastic for the colors I used. I need more hours in the day, or to waste less time, or both.

I was thinking about tulips when I started this. I have a bouquet of tulips from a friend, and am growing some bulbs that I picked up in costco. They're lovely. (Well, the bulbs have only put out green leaves, but still, lovely.) You can see, though, that the end result is not tulips. A friend said she thought it looked like a Robert Delaunay.   had to look him up, and think some of his work looks like Paul Klee's. Steal like an artist, and all that. I'm taking any similarities as a compliment.

Colors used are Daniel Smith Prussian Blue, Permanent Yellow Deep, and Quinacridone Violet. It's overlaid with three colors of crayon, a medium gray, a very light gray (almost white), and an orange. There's very little crayon compared to the amount of watercolor. It's on Fabriano 300 lb Rough Paper.

Dusk Again, Or Dark and Dense

Dusk Again.  Watercolor and Crayon.
9.5 x 12.5 inches.

I've mentioned before that my husband is a tough critic.  I'll show him what I've been working on, and I'll get, "hmmm."  Or, a high compliment would be, "I kind of like that." He took a look at the first version of this painting, and said, "You're in a dark, dense place." He may have a point. Hate winter, and it's been miserable, and the conditions flow over into my paintings.