I don’t usually start doing tree studies until autumn, but in teaching one of my students how to paint a landscape, we stepped away from the whole scene to practice single trees. I’d forgotten how much I like doing these!
First, I used the lightest color to paint the whole mass of leaves, making the edges said “leaf shapes” and leaving some holes for the birds.
When that layer was dry, I added the shadow shapes using a darker value. Softening some of the edges of the shadow shapes helps blend them in with the shapes in the light. When that layer was dry, I painted in the trunk and branches, weaving the branches behind the lightest leaves.
These studies are small, about the right size for making into greeting cards.
A couple of days ago, my husband and I visited a bog.
There are many different plants in a bog due to the moist, sometimes wet, and acidic soil. I was primarily attracted to the ones that were flowering at that time, as you will see by my sketches.
When I haven’t gone out to paint en plain air I usually carry a sketch pad and pencil case with me, just in case there’s something that captures my attention and begs to be captured. My usual procedure is to start with pencil until I have the basic placement of the image on the page. I switch to the pen as soon as I am comfortable. I’m still surprised by how much detail I can get down in a few minutes. Watercolor is added after I get home, after erasing the pencil.
We’re getting some warm days interspersed with days of rain, so the plants are all happy and growing. When I walk outside, I am surrounded by flowers begging me to sit down and paint them. I don’t mind obliging!
When my daughter was little, there was nothing she liked better than to go out in the spring and fill her little hands with bunches of violets. Now that she is grown and has daughters of her own… she still goes out and picks violets!
I made this tutorial in order simplify painting a tree for my watercolor students. There are many ways to paint a tree, but this one has given me the greatest success in teaching how to think about the light-to-dark process of painting a deciduous tree.
This exercise uses three main steps for painting the tree.
Using a light value of yellows and greens, paint one big shape to represent all the leaves. Make sure that the edges are irregular and “leafy.” Leave some holes for the birds to fly through. (The edges of the holes should be irregular also.) Let this dry.
Using a darker value of green, paint in some shadow shapes in the leaves on top of the first layer. Only paint about 30% of the initial shape. The arrow on the page is a reminder that the sun is coming from that direction, so the shadows should be mainly away from that side. Let this dry. If the shadow shapes look pasted on, soften a few of the edges and let it dry.
This is the hardest step to conceptualize. Starting with the trunk, paint it down into the grass and up to the bottom of the tree. Weave the trunk up through the leaves, making it thinner as it gets higher and branches out. Only paint on the darker green and in the bird holes. (Because we want to suggest that the lightest leaves are in the sunlight and closer to us, imagine the branch going behind these leaves and coming out the other side.) The shadowed leaves and the bird holes are wonderful opportunities to show the branches dividing and going in a different direction. Like the trunk, the branches get thinner the further out they are. (This tree could have had many more branches and twigs.)
I left a space on the left for my students to paint step 1 while looking at the example. Then they can use my first stage painting to practice step 2, and my step 2 to practice putting in the trunk and branches.
This is an exercise that I suggest you DO try at home!
I got up this morning to find my son eating breakfast by flashlight. After a little exploration around the house, I discovered that some parts of the house had power while other parts did not. I could make a cup of coffee, but I would have to drink it in the dark. I could turn on the light in the bathroom, but not write an email since the modem didn’t have power. I checked the breakers and they looked fine. So I called the power company and they sent out a technician.
He first tested the power coming in to the junction box on the side of the house. All looked well. The power company is only responsible for the wires coming to the house; if I had a problem inside, he wouldn’t be able to help with it. But before he concluded that for sure, he would check the other connections. So he hopped into the bucket on the back of his truck and “flew up” to the top of the pole at the end of the driveway. When that checked out okay, he got a ladder to check the connectors at the top of the house. Bingo! One of them was old and cracked and had shorted out. It only took him a couple of minutes to replace, but it was long enough for me to capture a quick image of him up the ladder with all of his protective gear on.
My husband and I have returned from a trip to Spain and Gibraltar. On the 94th day of February, when winter seemed like it would never end, we escaped to a warm climate: clear, sunny skies, and temperatures in the teens (Celsius). My husband sent pictures back to our children with the label: famous artist sighting.
I was sitting on the wall between the promenade and the beach. Despite having walked down this little street several times, it wasn’t until late in the trip that I realized the wonderful view of the church through the archway.
Yesterday I had visitors, and while their mother and grandfather worked on their violin/guitar duo, we went into my studio. Having my grandchildren in my studio is a special time for me. At ages three and four, they still wonder uncritically at their ability to make marks on paper, and enjoy the fluidity of colors coming off a brush.
After enjoying the colors separately, this little one decided to try dipping the brush into successive colors, going all the way around the box of paint pans. “Hmmm. . . Brown!” She rinsed the brush and picked up all the colors in a different order – still brown! (Rinse, repeat. Rinse repeat, with glee.)
Many adult watercolor painters spend a lot of time learning this same lesson: too many colors mixed together make “mud brown,” however their discovery is not usually accompanied by the same degree of satisfaction as this little imp felt.
One of my adult students is painting a series of paintings using a pineapple as a motif. I did a quick demonstration painting to show that there are ways to approach the subject that break away from the actual image in front of her.
I used three pigments (new gamboge, quinacridone magenta, and cobalt blue) mixed on the paper, a recognizable silhouette and some layering of color for value changes to get this colorful pineapple. It’s not my usual style, but much like my granddaughters, I enjoyed putting sweeps of color on the page and watching the colors blend where they touched each other (without making mud brown).
We had a damaging storm come through last Wednesday night. I’m thankful that no one I know of was hurt, but the trees in our area suffered many broken limbs. We now have only a small path through which we can navigate to our front door until our landlord gets out his chain saw. The neighbor’s spruce tree is leaning over the fence and resting on our roof. My son was late to work because a couple of locust trees on the corner were down and blocking the road. Today, the county sent out a maintenance crew and they cleared the remains of the locust trees off the corner. I had a few minutes before my art student came, and I saw an opportunity to do some drawing.
When I have been drawing in my sketchbook lately, I have started with a pencil and switched to the pen when I was confident of where my lines should be. I didn’t think I would have time for that today, so I went directly into the drawing with ink. Later, I added some watercolor, which doesn’t make a smooth wash on the sketchbook paper, but adds some color.
Being in a beautiful garden makes me want to capture the scene on paper! Last weekend I participated in an art show at Historic London Town and Gardens, a county park south of Annapolis, Maryland. As we were setting up the show, I looked outside and was enthralled by the sun hitting the gazebo in the gardens. So after I had finished my chores, I took some time to go out and paint. As I sat down to sketch out the scene, I found to my dismay that I had forgotten a pencil. Instead of going back inside to get one, I decided that I would just paint directly without drawing first.
I don’t remember why I stopped before I had finished the painting. There aren’t any shadowed spots in the overhead leaves and the small tree in front of the gazebo doesn’t have a trunk or branches. I remember not being happy with the depiction of the sun on the wood or the roof of the gazebo, but liking the feeling of spontaneity conveyed.
I made sure to bring a pencil the next day and managed to get a sketch done outside before it started to rain. (I have enhanced the drawing with a photo editor so that you can see the lines, as I usually draw lightly on the watercolor paper.)
Several days later I painted this picture in my studio, using the first painting and my memory as references.
So what difference does a pencil make? It helps me plan before I start painting. I can save light spaces better if I delineate them first. A pencil sketch lets me see the composition before I start painting, and allows me to measure elements for their relative sizes. Maybe with more experience I could do it without the pencil, but for now, I rely on it to sketch.
Today is the last day of this week’s challenge, and so far my plans for pictures for this theme have all been thwarted. Although I have coffee paintings, and early morning scenes from the boat, I wanted something new to post. But, alas, the morning following our night on the boat was dreary despite the glorious sunset the night before. I thought I might put my morning coffee next to a rain-drenched window today, but the wind died and the glass stayed dry. So here is my “good morning” picture, drawn with a graphite stick:
I’m thankful for a warm, dry place to sleep, and the strength and health to get out of bed each morning!