The Challenge of Skies and Paint--story

Almost. I've been staring at the blank canvas for a few months now, trying to get the nerve to challenge myself to try something that large. 

"Before the Storm," 24 x 30 acrylic on canvas, palette knives and brushes, 

Finally, the weather improved enough to set the 24 by 30 canvas up on the easel on the back porch. I'd recently sold an 11 x 14 of clouds moving across the Great Plains, from a photo I'd taken a few years ago.

I didn't want to try to copy that painting, because that just adds to the stress, and I'm uptight enough. But the idea and the colors seemed appropriate for a large canvas.

The painting is almost done, but like any journalist with time, I've learned its best to sleep on a project before putting the finishing touches on it, making final touch ups (editing). It's taken several days to get to this point. 

Today I tackled the foreground, which always intimidates me the most, and where I have ruined other paintings.  I picked up the brushes, mixed some colors and just started working.

So here it is,  first titled "Angry Skies,"  but now I think "Before the Storm," tells a better story. And here are the stages, the reference photo, and the previous painting.

The Texture of Blues from Palette Knives in a Stormy Year

"Blue Tempest," 5 x 5 acrylic on canvas

I've always admired painters who deftly use palette knives for texture and impact, but never attempted them until recently. along with acrylics, it's a whole new learning experience

There were always palette knives in our house when we grew up. Dad used them mostly for mixing colors, and I've done plenty of that in oils and acrylics. 

Regina's palette knives, Dad's book

 I didn't know how much they meant   to me until I saw and bought the late   Regina Murphy's knives of Paseo   Arts District and other materials   after  her death. They sit here in my   painting room, icons of creativity.   Then I found an old book of my   Dad's How to Paint with a Knife, and   began studying.

 So this week, I picked up about three   of them, began mixing colors and   applying them to the canvas. Since   my favorite colors are blues, and   we're in the midst of  storms--fires, hurricanes, floods, war, ignorance, worsening pandemic and politics  once again, here's the result.  

This is the last day of August and the year is two-thirds gone.  This semi-abstract sci-fi painting with violent  texture matching the moods of our country and world, roughly applied to the canvas, seems to fit.

After the storm

"This weird, colorful journey," 5 x 7 watercolor greeting card

Sunlight, snow melt...spring's not here yet, but our second terrible storm in five months is over.

The way things have gone this year, we'll probably have another, but for now...

I'm thankful for friends and family and fortitude in this weird, yet colorful journey.

So today's little watercolor.

After the storm

"After the storm," 5 x 7 watercolor holiday greeting card

Colors seems brighter, almost glow,  when they follow the darkness and danger of a storm.

"The light shines in the darkness," to quote the Apostle John, forever true since God created colors in the Beginning.

We've been through, are still enduring, plenty of storms this year in addition to nature's storms--pandemics of disease, racism, violence, intolerance, and political sickness and turmoil.

But that is also why the beauty of nature, the kindness and goodness of most unselfish people shine so much. Color, shining, after the storms.

Thus today's watercolor, evening sun on an adobe, after a snow storm. 

We all need more color in our lives these days.

The Beauties of the beasts

"Beauty and Beast," 11 x 14 300 lb d'Arches cold press paper

Thunderstorms are schizophrenic, beauties and beasts.
Yesterday's storms,  filling our skies with dramatic clouds, also  brought so much hail damage to parts of Oklahoma.

One of yesterday's inspirations

But I never fail to go take photos of them, and then try to paint them. I've not done many recently, because in watercolor they're sometimes difficult to make them look alive and real.
Today I had to try, on the promise to myself that I'd not paint from a photo, but from an image in my head. I'm not trying to duplicate a photo. And I painted on very damp heavy paper. 
I'm not particularly happy with this entire painting, though I am pleased with the unintended "fuzziness" impression, but at least I attempted it, and learned.
Thunderheads are also beauties and beasts to try to paint.

Stormy metaphors

"Storm at sea," 5 x 7 Fabriano rough press

Metaphors. 
I'm reading about the deadly Galveston hurricane of 1900, where human ineptitude and ignorance cost thousands of lives.  

Isaac's Storm by Erik Larson details the disaster with meticulous research, understanding of science, and compelling narrative storytelling.
Though it's hard to put down, I have to stop and breathe once in a while because of the building  sense of inevitable doom, and anxiety.
In fact, it occurs to me that the anxiety is adding to my anxiety over our health hurricane, the pandemic.
Metaphors of a disaster, fitting today--ignorance, denying science, inept leadership, politics, individual heroes fighting odds against death.
That's where this little painting came from this afternoon, trying something new.
I bought a 22 x 30 sheet of Fabriano rough press paper from the estate of Paseo artist Regina Murphy last year. It's just been sitting in the closet since, until I got the courage and inspiration to experiment with an appropriate subject.
Reading about the hurricane prompted these thoughts and this little test watercolor. I'm not an expert on water, but my quick paintings of stormy water seem to work--witness the Viking ship from last week.
Taking a 5 x 7 sample of the paper, I painted quickly after wetting the entire surface. Few brushstrokes, few colors, and motion. Storms seem to be surging in me at the moment--more metaphors.
Rough paper (note the texture of that paper),  rough water.

(Next step, a larger effort. I bought the book from Edmond Best of Books. Larson's most recent book is the astounding The Splendid and the Vile, about Churchill in the Blitz.)

After the storm

Today's practice, "After the storm," 8 x 10 watercolor, 300 lb. d'Arches cold press paper.

Spirits, and colors, lift when a storm passes, as it did yesterday.
Clouds still crowd the sky, but the sun, and light, and therefore color seem more intense, especially as the days wane and wavelengths grow longer.
It's time to get outside, drink in the vibrant smells, and watch the skies as moisture, contrasts and change explode in color.
Today's practice, playing with color combinations and applications. Not for sale.
Composition  inspired by the work of talented artist Stephen Rooney of Northern Ireland.

Storm play

"Storm a'coming," 5 x 7 watercolor, 300 lb. d'Arches 

Storm country...that's Oklahoma this summer, as the weather changes as the summer deepens.

Motivation to paint slows as the temperature and humidity rises after two days of rain, so you have to tell yourself, in desperation, "just have fun and play."

Going back through art books and web pages in part of my late-in-life do it yourself art school, I've found ideas, that jumble together.

The result is actually somewhat sloppy, but where there was blank paper and no painting earlier this afternoon, at least I played, meaning no rules, few expectations.

Storm a'coming on the Great Plains

Daily watercolor, 5.5 by 8.5--Stormy evening on the Great Plains

It's one of those evenings on the Great Plains. A storm is coming. You can see it, sense it, smell it, on the wind, in the air, in the color of light, in the rapidly changing skies and clouds.

"Out here is the sky..."

So wrote Willa Cather in "Death Comes for the Archbishop." If you live in Oklahoma, on the Great Plains, you gotta be fascinated by the sky.
First storm of the season arriving now...thunder, lightning, threat of hail, wind, threat of tornadoes, and beautiful clouds.

Red River watercolor

Storm 'a-coming, near Waurika

9 by 12, Arches 140-pound cold-pressed paper

Summer heat and paintings

My first two oils...so much to learn. I'm still captivated by skies and obviously storms are in my life.. Both are 8 by 10s.

And now back to watercolor...I call this Oklahoma August. It's 8 by 11 on 300 # d'Arches cold pressed paper. Can you feel the heat?