Getting the lines right from the start

White Salmon Canyon Overlook (SOLD)

I've only been realizing the last couple paintings that I've done a poor job of the overall lines and shapes from the get-go, before I finish the painting. It never used to dawn on me till well after I'd finished glazing and framing it. This one, I figured it out in time (I hope) to partially fix them. The problem was, I had made the outlines of the yellow hills too rounded, making the composition look cutesy, and not the impressive vista I had seen. I also made the foreground slope not steep enough, but was only partly able to correct it. However, the change I made was enough to drop the cartoonish look and make it more true to my memory. I hope next time I'll make more certain of the major lines while I'm still at the drawing stage.

I've felt all along that the overlapping triangle shapes was the big attraction about this composition, along with the opposing blue darks and yellow lights, not quite a harmony but interestingly close. I'm thinking that having those lines and proportions correct is key to capturing the visual feel of a landscape--not to mention the demeanor of the whole composition—the big zigzag here is what I always think of when I see this, or remember first seeing it at sunset on a brisk fall day in the gorge.

This view is looking north up Washington Hwy 141 from White Salmon, with the river off the left side.

The Moon In The Window

Back to doing sketches. I've gotten all wrapped up in learning how to make silver jewelry, using wire and clay, with multiple steep learning curves and lots of brain work. But Robert Burridge's facebook painting challenge made me get my brushes out again. I've had pictures of the moon through my bedroom window for years and wanted to paint it, so I started it a few days ago and made more moves on it this morning. I'd like to learn to see the minimum essential elements of an object that sufficiently define it for the viewer, but are enough to carry the mood, the feeling of it. I think you can often do that better with a rough sketch than a finished painting.

I want to do a lot more of these sketches; it's been a long time since I put in any time just playing with the paint.

I finally freed my inner painter—and I like the result

Chili Box

I've been working on this painting with only one real goal—to put on whatever color felt like, without thinking about it. I worked on it several days, gradually shaping it into a pleasing value pattern, and stroking on colors from the palette in whatever way made me happy. I just kept playing with it, enjoying myself, and when I noticed things I wasn't quite happy with, I painted over them, not worrying about whether that would look right or not. I just planned to keep putting on paint till I liked it all. Then last night, after making a dozen small changes and additional glazing, I actually knew I knew I was done, except to sign it. I didn't think it—I felt it. And as soon as I stopped, I felt very content. I took some photos, looked at them, and made one more change.

I know this doesn't sound very earth shaking but I don't remember ever feeling quite so content, or being so relaxed throughout the whole exercise. I wasn't trying to do anything except enjoy myself, and make a painting I like. So I think what happened is that I actually painted this 100% the way I wanted, with no particular expectations or real goals except to make an interesting, beautiful painting. All I really consciously chose was the color palette and the squares format.