Summer, and songs, of green

"Green Leaves, Green Grass...of Home, 9 x 12 watercolor, 140 lb cold press paper

Green everywhere. Driving the back roads on today's beautiful summer day, that's what you notice. Lush, alive, blooming, rain soaked.

Far different that our neighbors in drought-stricken western Oklahoma and West Texas, where the dominant color is brown. Life and death.

Thoughts of life's beauty  combine with pondering death, so close to home and friend brought two songs to mind, about summer and home and mortality.

"The Green Leaves of Summer," and the "Green Grass of Summer...."

"The green leaves of summer are calling me home."

"It's good to touch the green, green grass of home."

Thus today's quick watercolor painting.

Six Days 'til Christmas

"Season of Silence," 5 x 7 watercolor card

Can you hear the silence?

Not often in this hectic, noisy, busy "holiday" season, can you?

We live in a world of noise, bombarded almost 24/7 with blaring media and traffic; in fact, it seems most people are afraid of silence, avoiding it. 

What once was a season of hope for peace has ironically become anything but. One author termed our culture as the "attention economy."

And if there is no silence, can there be any peace? When do we have time to stop, think, meditate, dream, create if our senses  are constantly assaulted with noise--both visual and aural?

That's one of the reasons I enjoy driving the back roads, sparsely settled, where traffic is scarce. No music, no news, just alone with my thoughts. Or walking a trail in Hafer park where at least the noise of traffic is muted, and you the sounds of birds and leaves in the breeze are the only disruptions.

That's why memories of hunting pheasant in Iowa or deer in Oklahoma remain, or  driving remote roads in New Mexico remain so vivid. I remember the silence of of walking the empty corn fields or being in the woods, or traveling the wide open Great Plains. Having lived several years in rural areas, you learn to value silence when you move to a city.

It's certainly why I value falling snow. It muffles sound, and turns the world into a quiet wonderland, where you can cuddle up with a book, a cat, some coffee, and enjoy the silence inside and out.

Thus this watercolor card. Can you hear the silence, more important than ever. Pease.

Back road stories

"After the Storm," 8 x 10 acrylic on canvas panel

Back roads in rural areas captivate my imagination, and beckon traveling, even when stuck at home.

They speak silently of stories told, of stories to tell, of stories to come.

This painting has several stories, and I'm not sure of a title, yet...back roads, stormy skies, wheat, home.

Another story is in painting it, deciding on complementary colors for contrast, and using  palette knives for challenge, texture, and learning.

Country Store

"Country Store," 5 x 7 watercolor, Fabriano Artistico cold press paper

I love traveling the back roads because you discover all sorts of unexpected treasures.

Here I find real Americana, not the plastic chain stores of the cities.

So it was last week, in rural Texas, not too far from an expanding metropolis, where there's an old general store.

Today's little quick watercolor is not an exact replication, but a rough impression stuck in my memory. It had a flag pole, but I had to add a Texas flag.

Country Road Springtime

"Country Road Springtime," 8 x 10 watercolor, 140 lb Fabriano Artistico rough press paper

When it's springtime on the Great Plains in Oklahoma and other states, warm days bring clear skies with a few clouds and shadows over the gentle hills. Wheat and alfalfa begin greening, hawks ride the thermals.

Trees fill out, silhouetting small towns straddling country roads, leading from one horizon to the other.

It's a time to travel, at least in your imagination, in your memories, to the wide open spaces, free of the hustle and bustle and noise and traffic of urban life.

Today's watercolor.

For the open road

"The Open Road, " 8 x 10 watercolor, 140 lb d'Arches rough press paper

"The myth, the mystery, the mythology," of the open road, in the words of poet Nathan Brown, reading my commissioned poem about back roads last night in his Fire Pit Sessions, titled New Mexico 104.

The magic back roads highway from Tucumcari to Las Vegas, where you can see forever, with little or no traffic, at whatever speed you wish--ahead are mountains, and to the right or left, wide open spaces.

Then of course I think of Walt Whitman and his "Song of the Open Road," which so fits my spirit, especially in these cooped up days of pandemic, racism and political chaos.

Listen to Walt:

"Afoot and light-hearted, I take to the open road....

"You road I enter upon and look around, I believe you are not all that is here,

I believe that much unseen is also here."

So today's watercolor, much better than yesterday's 4 1/2 by 10 quick study, "Mountains Ahead," from a photograph I took on that highway years ago, heading to my beloved Sangre de Cristos, and La Villa Real de La Santa Fe de San Francisco de Asis.

This one will be framed as an 11 x 14 and hopefully sell. Thanks Walt, thanks Nathan. 

Yesterday:

Back roads painting and poetry

"Mountains Ahead," New Mexico 104, 4 1/2 x 10 watercolor, 300 lb d'Arches cold press

 "Mountains Ahead! It's always great to see the mountains on the distant horizon when headed west.

This watercolor is in anticipation for poet Nathan Brown's Fire Pit Session, reading a poem I commissioned for one of his books during the pandemic, prompt being the "back Roads." We both love NM 104 from Tucumcari to Las Vegas, where the road stretches out forever . Here's his notice and photo, and mine of the same road a few years ago. 

You can catch him, and the poem, on Facebook at 6:15.

Back roads blues

"Lonely," 11 x 17 watercolor, 140 lb Fabriano Artistico extra white cold press paper

Back roads beckon me in these deepening, depressing  days of pandemic viruses, racism and political chaos.
But other than short trips in central Oklahoma, they seem almost out of reach. I yearn for the wide open spaces, rural roads with almost no traffic for miles, in Oklahoma, Texas or New Mexico, alas.
Every painting has at least one story, and indeed, instead of painting a subject, I try to paint a story, a hint of a story, as another artist advised. 
Another teacher of mine advised to paint an "art word," not a subject. Not a barn, but "decaying," for instance. That leads what still another artist wrote, to paint what you "feel." My art word for this one was "lonely."
Today's quick painting came out of those back road blues I'm going through. this is out of my imagination, my yearning for the open spaces, trying to capture the mystery, the discovery around the next been, out in the country where you can breathe, see the sky and the far horizons.
Details: another painting of complementary colors--blues and oranges. Only three brushes--two inch and one inch flat, and a small round. 
After a sketched value study--dark, medium and light then wet into wet, paper soaked, largest brush, raw sienna over everything, then orange over most of the top half of the paper, then second brush, ultramarine blue and burnt sienna for clouds.
When almost dry, a little magenta-cobalt blue for most distant landscape. Then overlay next mesa with ultramarine and orange for brownish color. Next closest mesa, ultramarine and burnt sienna with more water for blue color. Finally, foreground of thick ultramarine and burnt sienna. Using same brush, the yucca. Small brush to add detail on distant road, and  sign it.
This is the largest I've attempted in a long while and was done without worrying, loosely in a hurry, on the back of a ruined painting, on the back porch in plein air, an 11" by 17" sheet of Fabriano Artistico extra white cold press paper. 
This is why painting helps me survive another day of pandemic and back roads bluse. 

Roads to imagination

"Road to nowhere," 5 x 7 300 lb. d'Arches cold press paper

The back roads, the wide open spaces, journeys of imagination.
When I'm cooped up, as in not being able to travel, suffering most from a "New Mexico attack," I find both an antidote and an infection from people I follow on social media in specific interest areas.
I get daily photos and some blogs on New Mexico, and also photos on Scotland. They feed me, and make me hungry. they also inspire me.

William Swanwick's terrific "Road to nowhere."

Such it was with a black and white Instagram photo by William Swanwick, @swanwick_w,  this week, titled "Road to Nowhere." 
This is not the first time one of his photos has provoked a painting. I painted "Purple Dawn" from one of his in January. Purple Dawn
Today's isn't as good as the first, but it was in some ways more fun. Since it was a black and white photo, I could be even more creative, with the colors. It was a road to imagination.
So here it is, a painting manifesting my urge to get on those unmapped back roads, no fences, far horizons, and dramatic skies.

Where the pavement ends--stories and paintings

"Morning in Ocate," 11 x 15 watercolor, 300 lb. d'Arches cold press paper

I love unpaved roads, especially remote state highways that are still just gravel, or dirt. They beckon with discovery and stories, and paintings.
Six years ago, this Labor Day weekend, I found one on a New Mexico map, and set out, leaving I-40 at Endee just across the state line, onto the back roads of little traffic and wide open spaces.

Unpaved NM 120, the smooth part in the Sangre de Cristos

Heading for 17 miles of unpaved state highway, NM 120,  in the Sangre de Cristo mountains south of Angel Fire. Some of it was well maintained. Other portions were barely two rocky ruts in dense forest.

Where the pavement ends, I found the community of Ocate, on the mountain branch of the old Santa Fe trail, with an old adobe with colorful rusting tin roof that just begged to be painted. 

It must be an old store, and I've tried painting it several times. I'm still not satisfied, in doing justice to that beautiful roof, but this is the latest version--painted this time with more color, more freedom and without looking at the photo. I'm happier with the roof, but it, like the unpaved highways continues to beckon.
There are two other unpaved stretches state highways I've traveled in New Mexico...NM450 west of Kenton, Oklahoma, and NM 112, through the Jicarilla Apache reservation south of El Vado Lake.
I have found others that need to be traveled, mostly in the southwestern part of the state. 

In the meantime, I'll settle for memories and watercolors. Also, here's the 3 x 4 preliminary value sketch. I chose yellow-orange, blue green and  blue violet for a triad from the color wheel for color harmony.
If you care to travel those back roads, search "back roads journal" on this blog. Here are the link to two of them, and the first painting in Ocate, from six years ago.

https://clarkcoffee.blogspot.com/2013/09/back-road-journal-new-mexico-ii.html
https://clarkcoffee.blogspot.com/2013/09/new-mexico-provoked-painting.html

Road trip inspiration

"Out here the's the sky," New Mexico evening

Summer can stifle more than physical energy. Creativity to meet the daily #worldwatercolormonth daily prompt challenges was faltering. 

For me, a road trip is a sure cure for feeling cooped up as inspiration seems to be drained. Even the back roads of Oklahoma will do, but not like New Mexico. 

This week I savored the skies, the mountains, the sights and smells and tastes of the back roads, especially along the remote east face of the Manzano Mountains. I took lots of photos, breathed and imagined stories and sights and art.

The cloud  at top was one of a multitude of welcomes for me at the end of the first day. 

Here are this week's paintings, all 5 by 7, 140 lb Fabriano Artistico cold press.

This means I have only four more paintings to have completed one a day this month. 

Before I left, I answered the daily prompt of "Furry Creatures" with "Bird Watchers," of Sophie and Snoops looking longingly out the window.(Metaphorically as cooped up as I felt.)

Next, Tuesday night in Moriarity, N.M. I did "Blue Memories," in plain air inspired by old Rte. 66, to the prompt "Monochrome Moods." All ultamarine blue, watching the clouds and sunset.

The next three prompts:

"Farm Life," "Splashing  Around," and "Clouds in the Sky." Only "Splashing Around" isn't inspired by the road trip. These are rough and quick, but they catch the moods I want, what I felt, rather than saw.

Tuesday-"Blue Memories," Monochrome

Wednesday-"Great Plains skyscrapers, "  Farm Life

Thursday-"Sunset Surf," Splashing around

Today-"New Mexico Spirit," Clouds

One of two inspirations for today's painting

This old house

"This Old House," 5 1/2 by 7 watercolor, 300 lb. d'Arches cold press paper

A favorite old song is "This Old House." Catchy tune and beat, up lifting. And now as I get older, the lyrics  fit even more, reminding me of the metaphor.
I've always been attracted to abandoned rural buildings, I think because they spur my interest about the lives and stories that are probably long lost and forgotten. As a photographer I've almost always stopped to get photos of the vacant windows and weathered siding of farm houses, of barns, or sheds. 
To me they're not sad, but adventures in imagination, adventures along the back roads. Those are adventures in happiness.

Today's painting was inspired by this photo by @DewEze on Facebook, thanking farmers for not taking off work in cold weather.

Daily #worldwatercolorgroup January paint happy things challenge 

Back road happiness

"The road less traveled," 6 3/4 by 10 3/4 watercolor, 300 lb. d'Arches cold press paper

Back roads always call me...Frost's "the road less traveled." Little traffic. few people, the sounds of silence, time to  be alone and look and think and wonder what is around the next bend.
This scene comes from a photo I took a couple of years ago of  a gravel portion of a New Mexico state "highway" in the Sangre de Cristo mountains. It's the good part of the road--a little further on, around the bend in the distance, it became a two-rutted lane track through the mountains--I was thankful for my Subaru.
I've tried to paint this before, and this is only a quick study with lots of room for improvement, since Susan asked me to paint it. But I painted what I feel, not see, on roads like this. I do think there are things that can't be painted.
But back roads make me happy, thus today's painting, from a road-less-traveled kind of buy.

Daily #worldwatercolorgroup January paint happy things challenge.

September sunset

September Sunset, Great Plains, 9 by 12 watercolor, 140 lb. Fabriano Artistico

Great Plains, home of my soul, along with the mountains and autumn...where else to go when you need solitude, and memories and treasures of those who have molded your life?

September...

 Horizons

Roads untraveled

Skies beckoning of places and people

Shadows full of color

And wanting...

Choices in a yellow wood, "two roads"--watercolor

Choices in a yellow wood." watercolor, 5.5 by 7.5, 300 lb. d'Arches. Black for emphasis

"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood ...

"I took the one less traveled by,

and that has made all the difference." 

           --Frost

Choices. Every day we make them, and each one makes a difference, some we never anticipate in our obsession with being in control and doing the "right" thing.
Our culture and Western civilization and heritage emphasize making the "right" choices--in other words taking the roads most traveled, the rational, the sensible, the proven, the safe, the dull.
We believe we are in "golden" woods, where the future is bright, if we make the right choices.
But. I wonder why I prefer the back roads to the Interstates, like the 17 miles of dirt and gravel state highway in New Mexico?
I worry about my students always trying to do what others do, taking the most traveled roads. I more and more admire and respect my students and those who essentially say, "To Hell with it," I'm going my own way." Bravo!
Is this not what Jesus taught? 
"Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it."
Risk. The unexpected. Individuality. Failure. Success. Excitement. Adventure. Passion. Love. Living in Freedom.
As a type AAA personality, I find myself more and more envying the freedom of those who take the back roads, the less traveled. I'm trying. And I know of fellow travelers, balancing the broad way with the road less traveled.

Day 25 WorldWatercolorMonth challenge.

Palette--yellow wood, and the unexpected of the less traveled..

Taking your breath away

A back roads day to take your breath away, dawn on the Great Plains--9 by 12 watercolor, 140# Fabriano Artistico

How long since something, some one took your breath away?
It's rare isn't it, and that's too bad, because it bespeaks the mediocrity we sentence ourselves to in our day-to-day existence, it seems.
What takes your breath away? There are places, people, happenings, scenery, events, and more. You remember them forever.
Today was one of those kinds of mornings, even on the Great Plains of central Oklahoma. I love the back roads, driving slowly, smelling fresh-cut alfalfa, seeing the ready-to-harvest wheat in the breeze, looking at the horizons and the undulating roads, listening to meadowlarks, watching hawks soaring overhead. The morning light was bright, and crisp and clear. 
Glen Campbell's song-- 

That keeps you in the backroads

By the rivers of my memory

That keeps you ever gentle on my mind.

My mind wandered with imagination, and the freedom from the noise of high speed traffic and congested cities. Just a peaceful road leading to who knows where, a metaphor for life. 
I didn't have the Rockies or other magnificent scenery, but the freedom of the back roads and imagination, and a beautiful, breeze, sunshiny day. "Paint what you feel," wrote my most recent watercolor influence.  Thus this watercolor.
A day to take your breath away--how I feel.

Rainy weather, what do you feel

"Rainy weather traveling," 9 by 12 watercolor, 140# Fabriano Artistico

"Paint what you feel, not what you see," wrote the author, Betty Schlemm in this old watercolor book I found recently. And after reading her accomplished advice and instruction, I wondered if I should even try to paint...so much I don't know, so much to learn.
Yet I know my best attempts at watercolor come from both my feelings, from letting loose, and from happy accidents.
I was almost afraid to try again..so much to practice, so much to try.

But then it started raining, and I love rainy weather...no wonder two favorite songs are a "Rainy Night in Georgia" and "When Tears come Down."
So turn on the phonograph, put on some moody vinyl, look out the window and let your mind travel. 
Pick up the paint brush, mix some paint, attack the blank paper,  and feel...it's far short of her talent and ideas, but it's part of the journey.
Keith Richards said, when asked what he thinks when on stage that he didn't think, he just feels.
I feel I'm trying to get there, traveling along wet narrow back Oklahoma roads in rainy weather,  but miles to go... what a feeling....

Cabin "fever"--Saturday scenery

"Cabin fever"--today's watercolor, 5' by 7"

"Cabin fever" doubles up in February. Though the winter is mild, we're still pretty much stuck inside--inside routine, inside the same scenery, inside the same walls, day in and day out.
I'm ready for the back roads, the mountains, the wide open spaces, and a different kind of cabin, a real one, where solitude and quiet open you up to dreams and memories and adventures with people and places, free from the demands and confines of business and urban dwelling. 
That's my cabin "fever," appropriate for some Saturday scenery and watercolor.

Years and memories lost

Memories lost, computer digitally altered painting

Travel the back roads in rural Oklahoma, or anywhere for that matter, and you find relics, memories and lives long gone as the years past.
Just as this year is passing, there will be relics, and memories lost.
This is the third version of this image. The first was a black and white photograph on Tri-X film on a wintry day in Jefferson County, Oklahoma, north west of Waurika, long ago.
The second is below, an 11 by 13 watercolor, on 300# d'Arches paper.
Versions are like the memories and years...always changing, and sometimes lost, but still brief records of a few instants.

A back roads kind of day

I have to get out...out of city, away from the people and traffic, out onto the back roads.

A beautiful sunshiny pre-spring day..the kind of day that is almost a sin to be inside... if I fished or played golf, I would be, but I don't.
For me it means a back road kind of day. I have to have those every so often. Yes, I grew up a city kid, but have spent years in a small Oklahoma town newspapering. To this day, I don't like stoplights, traffic, noise.

Some days I go east, into the cross timbers and up and down the hills and through the woods.  Not knowing what's around the next curve or over the hill.

But not today...I need to see the horizons, to imagine, to think, to see, to enjoy the wide open spaces, and the quiet. To think about the changes to the country and people, to see a different Oklahoma.

So it's north and west, past county lines, driving through small towns, windows down, slight breeze, no hurry, no stoplights. Peaceful. 
A back roads kind of day. Thinking about Walt.




 
"Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,

Healthy, free, the world before me,

The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose." --Whitman