Meredith, New Portrait

My art making lately has been quite solitary.  I occasionally enter pieces in shows, sometimes get together with other art-minded people at an area senior center, rarely take a workshop, but more and more I spend time alone in my little studio, trying out things that interest me.  For several years I have been part of an online group (on Flickr and Facebook) called Julia Kay's Portrait Party. In that group people submit photographs of themselves, and others draw or paint or otherwise interpret from the photos. Then they share the results with the group. 

Sometimes I draw portraits with colored pencil or graphite, occasionally I do an acrylic painting, and other times, like this time, I trot out my watercolors.  I hadn't done a watercolor portrait in over a year, and it felt good trying to create a believable flesh tone, and hair that seems curly. I like the results here, though the portrait is somewhat idealized.  Meredith has some character lines on her face, but I did not emphasize them.  What spoke to me in her photo was her warm smile and kind eyes, so that's what I concentrated on. 

Pretty often artists in this group over emphasize lines and creases, making the person in the portrait look more severe than necessary. I'm not sure why that bothers me so much - perhaps a reflection of how ambivalent I am about my own lines and wrinkles. 

Anyway, here is Meredith.

Summer Slump?

contour drawing with watercolor in a sketchbook

Last summer I took an evening figure drawing class at UW Madison, and was very excited and engaged in working from direct observation, something I do fairly infrequently.  The only difficulty for me was that Madison is 40 miles away, which requires almost an hour driving each way.  The class got over at 10:00 PM, which is late for me, and there was lots of road construction which added to my frustration.  So, I thought I had the problems solved when I enrolled in a class called "Figurative Painting" on Sunday mornings this summer.

The timing is fine, and I like being able to drive during the day, but this class also has a couple frustrations for me.  For one thing, most people are painting in oil, a medium that I am just learning.  I did use oil one week, and liked the results well enough.  It's just that I don't want oil paintings of people reclining in chairs.  What do I DO with the darn things later?  Also, instead of there being a series of poses, this is a three hour session with one pose.  Every week someone reclines in the overstuffed chair, and sits there for the entire time.  I understand that the model needs to be comfortable, but they also look bored, and I hate to admit it, but I am too.  

ink and watercolor in my sketchbook

The way I have been trying to deal with this is by doing series of quick draws, some on paper in a medium-sized sketchbook, some on Tyvek, some on Arches watercolor paper.  This time I even moved around a little to get a different vantage point, but the studio is rather crowded, and I don't want to disturb other people who are slaving over one painting.

charcoal and watercolor on Tyvek

Of these three, the last one is the one I worked longest on, and I like it least.  It seems stiff, and perhaps a little long in the torso.  My color choices weren't too exciting either.  Looking at my efforts from Sunday and seeing what I've written makes me think I just need an attitude adjustment.  Maybe I should just go out and pull crabgrass for a while.

Good News, Bad News

watercolor, Riverside Park, Beloit, painted 2008

It has been an interesting week, full of ups and downs.  The weather has been inspiring, cool and right, the air scented with lilac and lily of the valley.  One night we used some free tickets I won by participating in our local Big Read event, a concert at UW Whitewater by a Chicago group called Sones de Mexico.  We had no idea what to expect, but were delighted by the combination of Mexican folk music, pop, and even classical music interpreted with a Latin flavor.  I also enjoyed a group excursion of our local art league to Chicago to the Art Institute to see the current Matisse exhibit.  We soaked up the art, strolled in Millenium Park, and caught some excellent Italian food at Paisanos on Madison street.

But it wasn't all good.  The saddest part of the week was when I learned that the woman who led our local Tuesday painting group for many years, who was talented, kind and generous, lost her life to lung cancer.  Marilyn Keating  was a woman who had shared her talents and upbeat personality with our entire community. She and two other friends started a communal studio where they taught classes, and offered workshops by many other fine artists as well.  Our group will miss her tremendously.  I was also disappointed to learn that I was not selected to submit a plan for a local women's history mural, a project in which I was very interested.  I am consoling myself by remembering that the project would have consumed much of the upcoming summer, and now I will have time for other pursuits - like a life painting class I signed up to do in Madison, and a watercolor/collage class up in Door County in June.

Virtual Paintout - the Canary Islands

5x7 inches, watercolor, 

original scene on Google Street View, the Canary Islands

This is my effort for this month's Virtual Paintout (see sidebar of challenges).  I originally planned to do all oils and acrylics for these challenges, but this month and last I ended up reverting to my comfort area of watercolor.  I like learning more about places like the Canary Islands, which up until now were a big dark closet in my brain.

Two More Online Challenges

5x7 inches, for Illustration Friday: Expired, pen and ink, watercolor

I thought I'd post a couple of small illustrations I created in my watercolor notebook this week for online art challenges.  I've been interested in Illustration Friday for ages, since it is so well organized and so many people post their work on the site.  While some challenges are very specific (draw your shoes), the ideas at Illustration Friday are all open-ended.  They can be interpreted lots of ways, and they are!  This week the topic  is "Expired."  I thought about lots of things that expire: dairy products, coupons and sales, parking meters, people.  In the end a broken doll I had been saving for some sort of mixed media assemblage (yet to be created) called out to me.  I drew her amongst the twigs, dead leaves, and green shoots in my garden, a sort of plastic armless Venus.  Her life as a play toy has expired, but she lives on here.  The most challenging part of participating on this site for me was creating a 50x50 pixel thumbnail.  It took longer for me to figure that out than it did to draw all the teeny circles on the illustration.

5x7 inches, pen and ink, watercolor acrylic ink, created for Inspiration All Around Us

Another online challenge to try is a fairly new one entitled Inspiration All Around Us.  An Oregon artist named Dana Marie has begun posting reference photos every other Tuesday for people to interpret in any way they want.  In order to participate in this site you need to send her an email and ask to join the group, then you can post your drawing or paintings.  I did this little piece fairly quickly in my Moleskine watercolor notebook, first a pen and ink sketch, then watercolor for the waterlily blossom and leaves.  I did a dark blue background at first, but decided that I needed a darker value to set off the white blossom, so added a wash of black acrylic ink, letting some blue layer peek through.

I'm having a good time participating in these challenges, though I doubt I will participate in every one, every time.  For one thing, in order to get comments from other people, it's just courtesy to leave comments for other posters. That takes time.  But giving and receiving feedback is half the fun of joining these groups in the first place.  The other half is having a practically unlimited stock of ideas for creating art.

Italian Feast, and a painting

11x14 inches, watercolor on Yupo

I started this watercolor on slick Yupo synthetic paper in January, then put it aside until now.  The reference photo was from Google Street View, and I was delighted as we were walking in Florence last week to realize that Street View had given me a general ideas of where all the things I wanted to see actually were, and that I recognized this view.  Based on that I was able to figure out how the shutters on the ochre colored houses work, and revise my use of color a little.  It's loose, but gives the idea of the narrow dark streets and how the sun hits the upper stories. The only thing missing is scooters, which were everywhere.

Last night Dick made us his Italian feast, with a bottle of chianti, an antipasto plate, and the bean/bread soup we enjoyed so much. This platter had provolone cheese, marinated mushrooms, kalamata  olives, cherry tomatoes, a roll of cheese and prosciutto, and capicola ham.  I had loved the appetizers we got with crispy bread and fresh cold meats, and this was pretty close.

I am not as big a fan of soup as many people I know, but this was good and filling.  We saw Rebollita soup on menus everywhere, and had a very satisfying and warming soup on a cold and rainy day in Siena.  I think a person can make his or her own recipe, since it's just a vegetable soup with white beans and stale bread.  In Tuscany I think they mostly use chopped kale, but Dick substituted some fresh spinach instead.  I asked for his recipe, and he fudged, saying what he wrote was sketchy, and it was.  Here's what he wrote:


Rebollita, Tuscan Bread Soup


onion and garlic (leeks)     carrots
white beans                      zucchini
chicken broth                    basil
kale or spinach                  a couple tablespoon tomato paste
celery                               salt and pepper
parsley                             olive oil




Saute the onion, garlic and leek in olive oil.  Cook everything else in the chicken broth.  Add some stale bread or croutons last. You can drizzle more olive oil on top, or add grated parmesan cheese if you want.


He never added leeks to this soup, and I know he used croutons for the bread.  I also know he made his own chicken broth, though I'm sure canned would do.  We never had cheese on the table in Italy, and rarely salt or pepper, though sometimes there was a bottle of olive oil. I think this is the sort of soup you make with what you have, and the more it simmers, the better.  I suspect today the reheated leftover soup will be even better.

March Virtual Paintout - Stavanger Norway

8x10 inches, watercolor (sold)

We returned from our eight day adventure in Italy on Monday evening, and both of us are still waking up at 4:00 AM every morning.  My daily routines, including working out and painting, are as disrupted as my sleep, and only the fact that I swore I would paint for Bill Guffey's Virtual Paintout (see sidebar for link) got me up and moving on this one.

As usual, I spent at least an hour wandering around the required area on Google Street View, and when I found this road I knew I had what I wanted.  This shot is in Norway, but it looks like a view of farms in southern Wisconsin.  I liked the strong shadows, and was charmed by the dog trotting down the country road.  I grew up on a farm with a long gravel driveway, and I recognized the ruts left by tires.  It took me longer to realize that the strong shadow on the right side of the road is a cast shadow from a tree out of the frame.

I plan to paint from some of the reference photos I took in Tuscany and Venice, but I think that in the next few days I'll just post some of the photos.

From the Art Institute of Chicago

On my birthday back in December Dick promised me a day trip to Chicago and the Art Institute.  I wanted to see the new modern wing, and to revisit some "old friends."   We drove to Harvard, Illinois, about a half hour from here, and took the Metra line to downtown Chicago.  The trip is a hundred miles, and takes a couple hours.  It was a nice day, clear, weather in the 40s, so we walked to Michigan Avenue, and got in for free, since the museum had a promotion of every day in February free admission.

It is OK to take photos in the museum as long as no flash is  used, so I took all sort of pictures of sculptures, and have only now gotten around to using them to add in my little watercolor sketchbook.  I want to do some more, but I'm not sure I'll have time before our trip to Italy, and after that I bet I'll want to work on other sketches.

Anyway, we explored all day, taking an hour off for lunch at a nearby Italian restaurant, and then returning to see how much more we could see.  I adore the Art Institute, but it is so huge that I feel bad about how little time I end up really looking at the paintings and sculpture.  By the time we walked back to the train station I was footsore and weary to the bone.  Good practice for Italy.

Pike Place Fish

Here is what I've been working on the past few days.  I took a photo of some sort of fish when we visited Pike Place Market in Seattle a couple years ago, and finally got around to playing with painting him (her?). I'm not even sure what sort of fish I have here, salmon maybe?

At any rate, I wanted to experiment with some Japanese Masa paper that I had been using for monotypes.  I found directions online somewhere, and gave it a go.  Masa paper has a smooth and a rough side.  I did a quick drawing on the smooth side, then crumpled the paper into a ball and soaked it about 20 seconds in the sink.  I have an acrylic sheet that I use for doing prints, so I gently smoothed out the damp paper, smooth drawing side down, onto the sheet.  Then I did some rather light washes on the rough side of the paper.  The paint spreads and seeps into the wrinkles of the paper.  I read that you should place the newly painted paper on some paper toweling and then wait until it dries naturally, usually several hours.  Impatient me used a hair dryer to speed up the process.

When the prepared Masa was dry I got a sheet of 140 lb. watercolor paper ready to use as a support. I used a sheet 16x20 inches, just a little larger than my Masa paper.  Then I got out some Elmers glue, a container of water, and a cheap brush.  I spread glue on the back (rough) side of the Masa, spreading it out evenly with a brush damped with water.  It helps to work from the center out, always brushing toward the edges of the paper.  I do this on scrap paper, like an old telephone book, because it creates less mess.  Then I placed the glue covered sheet on the watercolor paper (drawing side up!), smoothing it out gently first with my damp hands, then with a brayer, to create a good even bond between the Masa and the watercolor paper underneath.  Then I waited more until the two glued sheets dried thoroughly.  I admit I cheated again, speeding up the process with my hair dryer.

After that, the fun began.  I just started painting.  The Masa is quite absorbent. It works best to use a light touch, and let each layer dry before adding another.  If you rub too much the paper begins to pill like a cheap sweater, which isn't real attractive. My paper did pill a little, but when it was dry I was able to brush the pills away with a dry watercolor brush.   I actually went over my original pencil drawing with a little vine charcoal, then began adding watercolor.  I even added a little India ink in the eye and on the fins.

I like how he turned out, complete with his splotches and speckles.  I look forward to using this paper again, though I'll need to think carefully about what subjects would be enhanced by this process.  Landscapes?  Portraits.  We'll see.

I have never seen this paper for sale locally, but I was able to buy a package from Cheap Joes catalog, and I'm sure there are other places to purchase it online.

Recent Sketchbook Work

With all the snow on the ground, I find it easy to spend time up in my little studio.  I was combing through some workshop notes from a folder on the shelf, and I came across some notes from a class I took on nightscapes, with Catherine Wilson Smith.  I typed them up, and then decided to try out some of the combinations she often uses for mixed grays and earth tones.  Usually I would try these on scraps of old watercolor paper, but it occurred to me that the little papers generally end up in the trash, and they would be good to have to keep as reference.  So, into the Moleskine watercolor notebook, memorialized forever.  I like this plan, and I have used the page several times since I made it.  It only uses colors I have at home, nothing too complicated. The colors are real - not subject to the problems with three color reproduction in print.

I had a little stash of magazine clippings for that class, and one was of a man kneeling by a campfire in the snow.  I liked the image very much, and tried to reproduce the effect.  It isn't too bad, though it seems rather crude.  One thing that worked well in this little watercolor sketch in the Moleskine is the background snow, which I mostly did by lifting out the snow on the branches of the trees.

Since my brain was thinking about grays, I noticed an article I clipped ages ago in an art magazine about painting reflections in metals like silver and copper.  This was a demonstration from the magazine that I tried in my sketchbook.  I wouldn't call the result a rousing success, but it was interesting, and the colors were not ones I might have chosen on my own.

Here's another try, using different colors.  One thing I decided to try after reading this article was Winsor Newton's Neutral Tint.  The color is a transparent, mild gray that mixes beautifully with other colors, and may be useful for night scenes and things like roads and sidewalks.  

Stormy Day

watercolor from reference photo, Moleskine watercolor sketchbook

My fortune cookie from the takeout place said I'd find something I had lost, and that something turned out to be notes from my Catherine Wilson Smith workshop on nightscapes in 2004.  I spent time yesterday typing up the notes, playing with her color combinations for grays and earth colors, and doing this small watercolor.  I like the drama of lots of dark, and I may go back to those notes and try more.  I have difficulty keeping the light passages, as in the field of the painting.  The sky isn't really dark enough either, especially on the far left.  But the scene is appealing to me, and I may try it with other color choices later.  Storms are always exciting; we have a snow storm brewing right now.

I'm nearly finished with the Robert Henri book, The Art Spirit.  Here are a few more notes I copied into my journal.

I can think of no greater happiness than to be clear sighted and know the miracle when it happens.  I can think of no more real life than the adventurous one of living and liking and exclaiming the things of one's own time.


More and more things are produced without a will in the creation, and are consumed or "used" without will in consumption or the using.  These things are dead.  They pass, masquerading as important while they are before us, but they pass utterly.  There is nothing so important as art in the world, nothing so constructive, so life sustaining.  ...Go to your work with a consciousness that it is more important than any other thing you might do.  It may have no great commercial value, but it has an inestimable and lasting life value.  (Steinbeck says something similar in East of Eden)


Men either get to know what they want and go after it, or some other persons tell them what they want and drive them after it.

Current Work in Progress - Abstract Watercolor

I usually don't work on a full sheet of watercolor paper.  You can see how much of my work table a full sheet takes up.  I cannot walk round to see the painting from various angles, so I went to the hardware store and got a sheet of acrylic, and I work on that. I can pick up the damp painting as it lays on the sheet, and put that down on the floor, turn it around, see how it looks.  There is the cost issue with framing as well, but I had a mat someone gave me, so that is free, and I'll just use coupons from the newspaper to get metal sectionals.  Anything this size will need acrylic instead of glass, for weight and safety, so that will be more. Sigh. This is why I usually work smaller.

I have mixed feelings about doing projects with my weekly painting class.  I enjoy getting out of the house, like the people very much.  But unlike many of the other women (men rarely attend), I do paint at home, and I have lots of projects in my mind on which to work.  I don't particularly need an assignment, though I enjoy seeing demonstrations of various techniques.  This one started with lots of wet watercolor, and all sorts of texturing elements: plastic wrap, gauze, twine, even metal washers.  After that dried I drew in circles, and painted both inside and outside the overlapping figures to emphasize them.  Then I started adding things like Japanese papers, some of the stained gauze, even small bits of paper doilies, and tissue paper.  I'm not sure if I love it, and there will be a dozen similar ones that will show up in Art League shows in the next year, which is not so good.  Still, someone may fall in love with the colors, or like the abstract design, which is totally open to personal interpretation, which is good.

I have decided that my favorite, and best work, comes from my own brain, a topic or scene that I've been thinking about, with techniques that serve the subject and the feeling I have about it, rather than just showcasing a technique another artist has developed and taught in local workshops.  Or maybe that's not an original thought at all, but rather one from the book I'm still reading, The Art Spirit, by Robert Henri.  Since I'm not a football fan, maybe tonight I'll see what else Henri has to say on the subject.

More, The Art Spirit

6x8, watercolor on Tyvek

A few more jottings that spoke to me  me from Robert Henri's, The Art Spirit:

-We must paint only what is important to us, must not respond to outside demands.


-The painter that bowls you over at first sight and the next day loses the power to attract your attention is the one who always looks the same.  It has a moment of life, but dies immediately thereafter.


-Originality.  Don't worry about your originality.  You could not get rid of it even if you wanted to.  It will stick to you and show you up for better or worse in spite of all you are anyone can do.


-No knowledge is so easily found as when it is needed.


-The habit of digression - lack of continued interest - want of a fixed purpose, is an almost general failing.  It is too easy to drift and the habit of letting oneself drift begets drifting.  The power of concentration is rare and must be sought and cultivated.

Caleb Revisited and The Art Spirit

This is the same painting of Caleb, with the background darkened and dulled down.  I also decided to photograph it instead of scanning.  The scanned image was more garish than the original, and I guess the lesson here is to try both ways and see which one works out to be more accurate and pleasing.  I was working from a photo that I did not take, though I know (or at least knew) Caleb, and that is part of the reason this portrait is a little static. As an experiment with a new material, I think it works, though.

I stumbled upon a blog recently that I haven't followed long, but find intriguing.  It's called Following the Masters, authored by Michelle Burnett.  She posts information about master painters, this month it's Robert Henri, and both suggests reading and painting challenges.  It was from this blog that I decided to read Henri's collection of notes, letters, and lectures called The Art Spirit.  My fiction has suddenly been shoved aside, and I find myself eagerly reading his insights on art.  I thought I'd post some of the comments that ended up in my journal in the next few posts.  Most of these were written around 1915-1920.

Following the Masters

- An interest in the subject, something you want to say definite about the subject; this is the first condition of a portrait.  Completion does not depend upon material representation.  The work is done when that special thing has been said.


To start with a deep impression, the best, the most interesting, the deepest you can have of the model to preserve this vision throughout the work; to see nothing else; to admit of no digression from it; choosing only from the model the signs of it; will lead to an organic work.


-From my point of view the simpler the background is the better the figure in front of it will be, and also ...the better the figure is the less the observer will need entertainment in the background.


-At time, secreted in the appearance of a simple tone there is a gamut of color, a shifting across the spectrum which keeps the thing alive, illusive, and creates a mystery of depth.


-The art student of these days is a pioneer.  He lives in a decidedly colorless, materialistic age.  The human family has not yet come out of the woods.  We are more barbarian, we are still barbarians... We have yet as a body to come up with the art of living.  The art student of today must pioneer beyond the mere matter of fact."


-I believe the great artists of the future will use fewer words, copy fewer things, essays will be shorter in words and longer in meaning.  There will be a battle against obscurity.  Effort will be made to put everything plain, out in the open.  By this means we will enter the real mystery.  There will be fewer things said and done, but each thing will be fuller and will receive fuller consideration.  Now we waste. There is too much "Art" too much "decoration," too many things are made, too many amusements wasted.  Not enough is fully considered.

Caleb, in Tyvek

10x14, watercolor on Tyvek

I ordered a package of Tyvek from a blueprint company, and have been playing with quarter sheets to get used to the texture.  This portrait is of a New York City musician and composer who is also my former student from middle school English class - Caleb Burhans.  He is better looking than this attempt suggests, and the painting is better too.  No matter how I played, I couldn't adjust the color to look like the original, which is softer than this.  I like working on the Tyvek, which just does not buckle, and has an interesting surface texture.  Unlike Yupo, which is slick and from which it is easy to lift color, the watercolor settles into the little fivers of the Tyvek, and which it lightens, it never goes back to white.  So, planning is necessary.

http://www.calebburhans.com/

This is a another experiment on the synthetic paper.  I had played around all afternoon with creating background texture, didn't like any of it, and scrubbed as much out in the sick as I could manage.  Then I decided to just draw over the top with watercolor sticks and pencils, and I like that effect better.  I also used plastic tapestry mesh to create more texture to the right of the hog.

I have a whole package of the Tyvek to try, so you may see more soon.

Eclectic Art

11x14 inch watercolor on Yupo (sold)

I just finished three days of painting in a studio workshop.  My friend Mary Ann Inman runs a series of art workshops called the School of Eclectic Art, and she happily accommodates artists in many media, and many skill levels.  Because of her individual attention and positive attitude, she has many repeat customers.    Lately her workshops have been held at the Fitchburg Senior Center, a lovely facility that also houses the city hall.  While I have been retired from teaching for three years, I've not thought of myself as a "senior" and felt a wee bit strange driving there this week, where lots of folks were sitting reading newspapers or playing cards, nursing coffee or catching a reduced price lunch, or bowling on a Wii station.  Upstairs there was a square dance session going on.  I know, it's my issue, and I need to deal with it.

Our painting group was eclectic indeed, and certainly not my idea of seniors.  Most were retired, though not all.  Most were women, but a couple men painted too.  Most worked in traditional watercolor, though some were working in mixed media or collage.  I decided to paint on Yupo, a smooth synthetic paper that lifts very easily.  I had two projects in mind, both suggested by online challenges.  The more complicated one is a Florence street scene, and it needs more attention before I share.  I'm fascinated by Google Streetview, and that is where the Italian scene originated.  I also worked on a project for the Watercolor Passion challenge.  This one is "stuffed animals," and instead of thinking stuffed toys I went with actual stuffed animals, taxidermy.  Earlier this month a set of Mexican stuffed frogs playing instruments showed up at my local consignment shop, and I determined that they would be my subject.

I had an idea that I could lay in a loose and textured background, something a little drippy to go with the three amphibians, then I would lift out the frog shapes.  As I painted them I occasionally misted them with clear water to make splotches.  I had a great time, and I was pleased with the result, though I have no idea what to do with these critters now that I've submitted them to the challenge site.

Fellow workshop painter Cheryl Breunig completed several landscapes.

So now, after three days of work I have one and three quarters paintings done.  Three days out of the house working just on art.  Three lunches away from home, filled with interesting talk with people who also put lots of energy into making art.  Three days of getting feedback on my work, and being inspired by other people's vision and skill.

I hope I can keep the momentum going.

http://www.schoolofeclecticart.com/

January 4, 2010

watercolor, three vintage bitters bottles

It's cold and gray outside, and last night I was inspired to paint a few of the little bitters bottles I put on my bedroom windowsill for a touch of color. I'd like to know more about them. They have great names like ruby ball and claw, cobalt waterman, green mini corncob. I wanted to get going, start painting, after a few weeks of sloth. The transparent glass was a challenge, but fun to try. I especially liked the way the colors bled into the shadows beneath the bottles.

Here's a poem by Wendell Berry, a writer I have begun to read in the past year. He talks about writing poetry, but the ideas could be applied to painting as well.

How To Be a Poet

Wendell Berry

(to remind myself)

i

Make a place to sit down.

Sit down. Be quiet.

You must depend upon

affection, reading, knowledge,

skill—more of each

than you have—inspiration,

work, growing older, patience,

for patience joins time

to eternity. Any readers

who like your poems,

doubt their judgment.

ii

Breathe with unconditional breath

the unconditioned air.

Shun electric wire.

Communicate slowly. Live

a three-dimensioned life;

stay away from screens.

Stay away from anything

that obscures the place it is in.

There are no unsacred places;

there are only sacred places

and desecrated places.

iii

Accept what comes from silence.

Make the best you can of it.

Of the little words that come

out of the silence, like prayers

prayed back to the one who prays,

make a poem that does not disturb

the silence from which it came.

Northern Lights

5x7 inches

watercolor on Yupo synthetic paper

Christmas is over. We made it to my brother's house for Christmas Eve, despite cold rain and high winds. Dick had called his sister to cancel our plans to drive to Door County for Christmas Day, but when it was sunny and dry here in Janesville, not a blizzard as forecast, we called to ask if we could still come. The answer was affirmative, so we packed overnight bags, loaded up the cat bowl and headed out. The further north we drove, the cloudier it got, and the more the winds picked up. By Algoma Lake Michigan was a sort of ochre color, the high waves filled with sand. The water crashed dramatically over the jetty near the red light house, but it was so cold, wet and windy I didn't ask Dick to pull over so I could get a photo.

We made the trip safely, but Dick's other sister and her husband slid off a side road into a tree, and their vehicle was wrecked. We ended up staying an extra day and giving them a ride back home on Sunday. By then the roads were clear and dry, and the trip was uneventful

I had started this little watercolor before we left, then I finished it this morning. The inspiration was a desk calendar photo of northern lights, something we haven't seen in a few years.

Cold Climes

by Mary Brittnacher in the 2009 Wisconsin Poets Calendar

I've lived my life in frosty air,

Near firs and moss and hedgehog's lair.

For me the seasons are a book;

That tells a story wherever I look.

Browns of springs show many hues;

Flowers of summer are always news.

Gold, red, and rust of fall,

Never fail to give their all.

Deep in winter I watch the birds;

Sleeping woods speak silents words.

Story same, story new,

That rivers and wrens tell clearly and new.

Platform Boots

12x12 inches

watercolor on Yupo synthetic paper (available)

At least a couple time a year I like to paint something in response to an online subject. Maury Kettell has a site called Watercolor Passion, and four times a year he posts a challenge. This one, which ends December 31, is "Shoes."

My interpretation of the theme was to use my friend Rich Fletcher's photo of a big city shop window filled with platform shoes. I painted fast and loose with bright saturated colors. The nice think about Yupo, a synthetic plastic surface, is that the colors stay bright and are easy to lift. I had a good time lifting out the reflections on the window.

Here's the link to the site:

http://www.watercolorpassion.com/Projects/Project.htm

There's still time to submit a painting of your own if you'd like to give it a go.

Sledding Santa

I decided not to put up a full-sized Christmas tree this year, but I did dig out some favorite ornaments and decorations. I bought a little wooden Santa Claus ages ago, and he has become a favorite. The old guy still has some child alive in his heart, apparently. Just so I could look at him more carefully, I decided to paint him in my sketchbook. Who knows, maybe he'll end up on a card some time.

I had a good surprise yesterday when the English pen pal I started writing to in 1961 and hadn't heard much from for several years wrote me an email. When I was about ten I sent fifty cents in to some magazine and got back an address for a pen pal. This boy and I wrote a couple times, but didn't have too much in common. However, his mother started writing to me, and to my mother. I met the family in 1972 for the first time in London. Then over the years we met several more times. Through weddings, divorces, deaths and births we kept writing, though not so often in the 1990s. Then five years ago both my mom and the woman who had written so faithfully died in the same week. I didn't hear from the son and his family except for a Christmas card with signatures until yesterday. Now the boy I wrote to so long ago is a grandfather, and he promises to catch me up on their family via email.

It's a wonderful world, eh?