WATERCOLOR & ACRYLICS

A very rough pencil sketch started the process of bringing a photograph I took with my iPhone into focus as an inspiration for a sketch.

Determining where to leave the negative space so that it would guide the eye along the path...that is tricky.  Beginning with the tree trunks seemed a good start.

The mosaic of the cobblestone pathway was late in the painting...varying those tones was fun and deciding just how much color to bring to the autumn scene was a challenge.  But the whole process: totally fascinating.

Artist, Marilynne Bradley, taught us the process of taking a simple (or not so simple) image and translating it to straight lines, scooting the straight edge along to create a geometric illustration of what we want to paint.

What I like about geometrics is that they are abstract and then again maybe not so much.  I am imagining that the more detailed and well planned the more geometrics can be highly representational art expressions.  But whatever they are, they are super fun to do.  

A  Slot Canyon in AZ

This is my 3rd geometric...from a watercolor of our downtown Keiner Plaza's "The Runner" against the Old Courthouse and The STL Arch.

Decide on the content.  In this case I had watched friends tapping maple trees in mid February when cold days break against a rush of warm. Making syrup from buckets of sap, the process was long and complex.  But it started with a beautiful hillside of sugar maples with white sap buckets collecting the sweet running liquid. A quick pencil sketch turned into straight lines then made with a straight edge. Imagination is key in creating a landscape with angles and straight lines.

Using a non-smearing fine point black pen and a straight edge, I began that transformation from a curving pencil to straight lines.  Imagining the nakedness of winter trees, the heap of fallen leaves, and determining the metaphors evolving as the trees came to life. Imagining the trees and how they might view this business of being poked and sapped. And thinking about where the light was, where the pathways were. What would the trees have to say about all this?

A 3-phase sky. graduating blues. Determining the meaning of different pathways opened up myriad metaphors. Shadows or pathways, barriers, going up or coming down...the painting began to take on a life, so much more than just a hill with trees. The more I painted, the more excited I became.  Poetry was brewing in these images.

Background trees help establish a logical horizon line.

Changing value set the trees back up the hill and brought the closer trees forward with more distinctive color.

Varying values to the leaves gave them vibrance and added dimension with the darker ones farther away. The leaves took some serious patience but were enormously fun.  And watching the pathways/shadow lines take on color, making them stand out was important. Keeping the sap buckets white was key as markers for purpose on this hill. They are there as a reality, but also to pose questions about what the trees might say about that purpose. I was having fun!

Adding intensity to the sky, contrasting the light, bulbous part of the sky took this piece to a place of asking questions.  It became much more metaphorical for me.  The yellow pathway to the horizon line, with a tree parked dead center, barriers in our journeys.  Were the trees weeping tears of relief, letting away the sweet sap that burdened their vasculature? Or were they provoked by the punctures; were these wounds?  A title for this piece was emerging.

The leaves needed detail work, painting corners, layering more paint on certain leaves for intensity. A first glaze would bring continuity to the leaves. I was surprised at how gentle the brush strokes needed to be. 

After careful drying time between these final brushstrokes, a last glaze deepened the pile of leaves, added a certain richness, and gave these maples a voice.  This is "Sapping Season."