Another Trout Stream

"Another Trout Stream"
11" x 14"
Oil on Canvas
The sky was the color of salmon flesh, yet I was thinking "trout" as the day came to a close.   

I've combined some of my technique from pastels with my oils. I used a rubber-tipped device to "squiggle" into the trees and foreground plants to make them look like what I saw in my mind's eye.  I'll do a few more to see if this is something I want to continue.


Then There Was … Sun

"Then There Was … Sun"
6" x 6"
Oil on Hardboard
That morning the sun, frizzed by clouds that would burn off within minutes, lifted her head off the pillow of the island and set out to brighten spirits wherever she shone. 

I enjoyed the effort of keeping the colors clean and pure as I placed complements next to one another.  Satisfying… yes.


Dawn's Early Light

"Dawn's Early Light"
12" x 12"
Oil on canvas panel 
As a respite from the LaCrosse paintings… I offer a larger sky than I normally paint. I felt passionate about making this one and a six by six just wouldn't cut it. 

I had to handle the yellows and blues very carefully to not make green, and the purples and yellows so as to not make brown where I didn't want it. This one is quite nice in person.


Season of Change

"Season of Change"
8" x 6"
Oil on canvas panel
The light that day allowed the local color of my subject matter to shine in its own unique way. It's a season of change — evidenced by the leaves, berries and the water. 

Not only do the physical elements change color, the light seems to in the fall, as well. I'll be painting in this park in a couple of weeks, so I used an old photo I took of it to "test" the waters, as it were.


Niagara Falls

"Niagara Falls"
10" x 8"
Oil on hardboard
A friend took a trip to Niagara Falls over the weekend and sent photos to me.  It was fun to paint the cascading water in the colors that appeared on his photos. I remember seeing the falls as a teen, back when the falls had nearly dried up. The water source seemed to be mightily replenished this year.  

I enjoyed painting something completely different from anything I've ever done.  What fun!


Over the Dark Water

"Over the Dark Water"
6" x 6"
Oil on hardboard 
The sun was setting over the cold, dark water of one of the large lakes near me. It went down in a flourish becoming a summer night. But it's not summer. Not even close. In fact, it feels like summer will just slide by with a passing wave this year. 

I seem to be grousing about the temperatures in my zip code again, don't I? I'm just so ready for warmer weather, brighter skies and for color. I miss color.



18" x 24"
Oil on wrapped canvas
The brushwork in a section of one of my last paintings reminded me of ripples on a dark pond. There are concrete ponds at the Botanic Gardens, painted that way to reflect the sky and vegetation surrounding them. 

I didn't refer to any of my dark pond photos to paint this. I drew from within, allowing nothing but feeling to dictate where the brush would go and what color would be on it. The background is purple blue and green.


Lovin' Little Lilly Lake

"Lovin' Little Lily Lake"
6" x 6"
Pastel on black hardboard
I've painted this lake several times before, but in oil. She's one of my favorite things to photograph (as well as seven stand-alone silos) on my way to and from my critique class.  In the early morning, like I've painted here, she holds very still while I capture her serene smile. 

The morning light over Little Lily Lake never disappoints me. The only disturbing factor might be wind that fuzzes the reflecting shore across the way.



  9" x 12"
Pastel on black canvas 
I heard the sound of splashing water before I even saw the blue reflection of sky on its surface. It wasn't a large rapids, but several small ones disrupting an otherwise serenely winding stream at the base of a stack of gigantic Colorado boulders. 

Constructing this landscape was almost as much fun as happening upon it. 


Slender Reflections

"Slender Reflections"
7" x 2"
Pastel on paper

My view across the stream was interesting in only one slender strip. Boulders jutted into the water, slicing what beauty that was there in half. But they also added interest in the middle ground, so I included them in my little study. 

I paint many of my pastel paintings on sanded French watercolor paper scraps that I saved from when I painted only in watercolor. They sand beautifully, then I tone the paper with a magenta and a sapphire that I again sand into the paper, then brush off.


Sunset Rushing By

"Sunset Rushing By"
6" x 6"
Oil on hardboard
The clouds fuzzed in the evening air as the sun dipped behind the tree line on the distant island.  The lake took on some of sky's colors, but was faster to concede to pending noir than the luminous air. 

It has been a while since I've painted a sky. My little pastels have taken the place of daily sky paintings. Either way, I'm making art.



9.5" x 6.5"
Pastel on sanded paper

It's cold where I live, but not this cold, nor is it this barren. There's ice on the puddles, but they're not this expansive, nor this deep. Snow has fallen, but it won't still be here come spring. I'm thankful to live where it's appropriately wintery — not outrageous.  

The way I first finished this painting was to perfectly reflect the mountains in water with dry rocks on the shore of a body of water. It was boring. I was ready to fling it into the trash when a voice said, "Keep the mountains, blur the rest."  I did that and instead of tossing this sheet of watercolor paper, which is what I paint on, I'm pleased with its frigid iciness. 


It's Official

"It's Official"
7.5" x 7.5"
Pastel on paper
The landscape seemed to decide over the weekend that it's officially autumn.  There's more gold than green and what green there is is reluctant rather than robust. I might add that the sky was in agreement.

I've painted this before, but in oil.  I may be revisiting some of my favorite scenes with my new medium.


The Tempest

"The Tempest"
16" x 20"
Acrylic on wrapped canvas
I felt compelled to paint something tempestuous tonight, so I put a large canvas on my easel and squeezed out a limited palette of acrylic paints. I directed my frustrated bewilderment into this very fluid and tumultuous piece, and within two hours I felt a lot better.  

I like how this turned out, so I'm going to try it in oil, possibly tomorrow.