Colors Are Clear Working From Life

There is a feel one gets from the oil paint leaving the brush when putting just the right stroke of color on that white canvas. Like a bit of sweet chocolate melting on the tongue. You can taste the finished painting with that first touch of color. Your palette smiles at you as you mix those dreamy colors that call to you. That mixture of grey and those subtle greens for the background wait for you. The model's skin calls for paint with reasonable mixtures. The rest of the canvas though, lures like chocolate, and its purple I reach for.

A mixture of what I see, with what I feel, covers my glass palette with its greenish grey undertone.  Remembering a scene from the past, a silhouette plays in my mind, plays with colors I want to see. I remember the figure and how she was surrounded by the pastel spring hues. Now, two young kids are looking through a book in my studio.. Quieting their colors for the silhouette feel while still trying to carry the idea of carefree children, challenges my thought process.

The small color study poses more pauses of thoughts. No such thing as a quick study for me, as I figure out how to get to where I want to be with this painting. My two young models grow in patience. The computer on the floor with Netflix keeps them settled for a while. The background and surroundings are for when they can no longer sit still, and leave.

This is how I work sometimes. I work from photos, too, but enjoy all the problems that come with live models. I learn so much more when a model is here. Colors are clear working from life, and change every so slightly as the breeze dances through the leaves of the tree outside my west window.  

A Touch of Silver to Feel the Breeze

A slight breeze sends a wave of silver through the trees as their leaves catch the evening sun. Bending branches set a family of starlings to flight, creating an abstract of black wings against the cotton clouds. I pause with my effort to relate the scene before me, watching nature's choreographed flight. Henry, too, takes in the flowing abstract of black wings. Ready for a treat, he stretches under my easel. A day of exploring the roadside wildflowers and hunting quick field mice, he settles back to his space below the easel, having received his reward of a chewy treat. A touch of silver to the tree tops and I feel the breeze in my painting. Indian Yellow brings a bit of richness to the goldenrod lining the valley stream, winding its way through my painting. 

A passerby slows, Henry pauses and sits up. I got two thumbs up and told where I might like to try my skills again tomorrow. Always nice to get approval from those who know the country. Sometimes it's a tail wag - Henry knows when to lay it on. Sitting in my lap, he really understands my explanation for things I leave out and the flowers I add that aren't there. Some trips out, even with the paints, are to simply gather information. How many greens are out there among the grasses and trees? Sometimes I carry a study to a finished work of art. I look for studies that contain elements in a scene like a road or a path, a house or structure of some kind. It's a way of stretching the range of color and adds a sense of place.  Usually I talk these things out with Henry.