Plein Air First Timer

Painting en plein air. It conjures dread and anticipation at the same time - at least for those of us who are neither experienced nor well equipped. 

Planning for my first ever outing, I read lots of articles on plein air. How to dress (don't forget sunscreen and hat). What to take (keep it lightweight). What size painting (light moves fast so stay small). How to approach the actual painting (simplify and mass the big shapes). Don't forget the bug spray, umbrella and water.

My husband loaded my french easel (no, I don't have the modern, light tripod setup) and a cooler of water and lunch on our old-style metal luggage puller. An old backpack sufficed for holding paper, support, camera, cell phone and other can't-do-withouts. Pastels were snug inside the french easel drawer, and I was ready to go!

One could not ask for everything to be more perfect for a first-timer. The day was beautifully sunny, the wind just breezy enough. Elm Lake at Brazos Bend State Park held beauty in every direction, whether looking toward the water or back to the moss draped trees. I settled on the view overlooking the lake from the observation deck, next to Linda Dellandre (probably hoping some of her talent would flow my way!).

I was surprised how quickly the morning passed and how absorbed I actually was in the painting. And not tired! I don't know if this one trip will make a plein air painter out of this studio-only pastelist. But, surrounded by nature and the wonderful artist friends of Pastel Society of Southeast Texas, I can safely say it won't be the last.

The plein air painting ended with bold color and strong darks, creating an excellent underpainting for the completed studio painting of Elm Lake at Brazos. 

And my old fashioned setup and gear? Worked just fine!  

Before you go - sign up for my monthly newsletter, Scrumble: art, golf and travel, delightfully woven together.

A Year in 60 Seconds

Alter Ego: Grandma Red

Just 2 grandmas per family? Not anymore. I eventually became Grandma Red, named for our special, one-of-a-kind, couldn't ask for better, dog. He's small, handsome, everybody loves him.

So my page, Grandma Red Paints Small, is for small, pretty, everybody-will-love-them, paintings and thoughts. Enjoy.

For our Veterans

Remembrance, Pastel, 24x18

Honoring our veterans and all who serve in the military. Remembrance is a reflection of my personal feeling and those shared by all who visit the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, DC.

Except for that

The golf ball flew into the air, really into the air, then landed in the sand. "That was a good shot, except for that."

Did I actually say those words? Does sounds dumb, huh? Yes and no. My fairway shots always just skim the ground, never make that beautiful air lob. This one, the direction was off, but the ball was up. Major accomplishment.

How does this relate to art? "It's a good painting, except for that corner," (or that color or the background or . . . whatever your reoccurring problem is). So, just as I will hit another thousand practice balls to perfect that airborne shot, I will work through my painting problem. I'll question what's wrong? how do I fix it. I'll face my nemesis, eventually having more high flyers--in both art and golf. I WANT to get rid of the "except for that." 

My paintings of golf course

Zoom and fix. Voila!

Pepsi Man, Pastel, 18x24

Pepsi Man was finished and photographed. But something in the face bothered me. I didn't know what, so didn't how to fix it.

As I prepared a CD of Pepsi Man for a competition, my mind wandered: How are jurors looking at the images, now that they are digital. (Remember how all entries used to be slides?) Staring at the image on my monitor, I realized that areas of the image could be enlarged to get a better peek at how the medium and color were handled. Does the juror do that? I don't know, but it became an instant learning tool for me. 

When I zoomed in on the eyes, I got a big shout out as to what was wrong! Fixing it was easy with a few simple swipes of pastel. The eyes now looked away, and in the same direction. As I stepped back, away from the painting, Pepsi Man actually seemed to have changed personality. What little effort it took!  

I hope you can benefit from this "Voila" moment. And that you will be more careful than I, and make sure you photograph that last minute change. I forgot to do it!

I was lazy . . . and that's good.

I love painting with pastels, but pastel dust IS messy. It sifts down; it magically transfers from the hand to a clean stick. So I always try to clean my pastels and work area when a painting is finished. Like starting fresh.

Reflections on the Williams was finished, and I was tired. I dropped the pastels into my Cherry Pastel Cleaner. It would have taken at most five minutes to run the machine, sift the pastels out, and sort them back into the clean ones. But they sat there, dirty, on top of the grits.

Delhi Gaze, Pastel, 10x8

Next day I revisited Evening Song, deciding to paint the focus petals larger. Delhi Gaze came out of hiding and needed a new layer of pastel. Then Pondicherry Beach Nuts chanted, "start me, finish me." All the while, the Reflections pastels sat in the cleaner, dirty, on top of the grits.

Being lazy turned out to be good. Finally giving the Cherry Cleaner a whirl, I realized that not having cleaned the first batch of pastels kept me from using them. And that insured that the next painting would not use the same set of colors. My favorites were captive in the cleaner; I was forced to choose only the colors that were on my clean palette. 

What's with the grits? That good ole southern food is the perfect, mildly abrasive product for the Cherry Pastel Cleaner. The Cleaner tumbles and vibrates the pastels, removing all the dirty residue. Cherry is hosting their First Annual Pastel Classic online, terrific images, terrific product.