Universe of Stars
I love seeing a brilliant night sky, especially in winter when its cold and clear. It reminds me in the most glorious way that we are riding on a jewel of a planet in an unfathomably vast universe. A walk under the Milky Way quickly puts life in perspective, if even just for a moment. This journal page is both tribute and reminder. Tribute to a cold, clear walk in the shadow of Vermont’s Green Mountains, and reminder to make more time for stars.
Here’s wishing you a universe of stars during this dark and wondrous time of year.
About the night sky:
Are the stars more brilliant in Vermont than other places? Yes. That’s because there is less light pollution to block them out. Check out this map to see how dark it is where you live.
http://www.lightpollutionmap.info/#zoom=4&lat=4815709.82675&lon=-8149899.70971&layers=B0TFFFFTT
Many thanks to Mike and Barbara Young at Mountain Valley Retreat B&B in Killington, VT for sharing their little piece of heaven and their warm hospitality.
Illustrated Watercolor Journaling
I had the pleasure and privilege of teaching a full day workshop on Illustrated Watercolor Journaling at the Killington Arts Guild in Vermont last weekend. I’m always inspired by the creativity and enthusiasm that comes from gathering people together for a day of painting! I don’t usually paint much when I’m teaching, but I started this beet as part of a demonstration and then finished it back at home. I always aim to make my journal pages reflect something meaningful or interesting from my experiences, so I finished the page with some of the lessons and tips we practiced and a bit of my joy from teaching the workshop.
I brought a variety of props for people to sketch, including some beautiful beets with weary looking greens (they were gorgeous when I bought them!). And – wouldn’t you know, I spelled “journaling” incorrectly on the page—I hate that, but oh well!
November Birches
Like many artists, I want my paintings to turn out well. But that typically means that I sacrifice experimentation for tried and true techniques. Risk vs. Return. At some point, though, I start to feel stale and uninspired, and then I know that it’s time to change the line up and go for risk. Such was the case with painting these birches.
Here, I cast off my usual careful drawing and painting style and tested a variety of watercolor techniques. To achieve background depth, I built up layers of color behind the birches and used plastic wrap and masking fluid to add texture and variety. Here’s what I learned:
- It’s time to buy new masking fluid when there’s a glob of congealed goop in the bottle.
- Good paper makes a big difference! This is Fabriano soft press 140lb watercolor paper. The layers of paint went on beautifully.
- I like precise drawing – and it would have made for better results here. But a less careful drawing freed me to experiment more with painting techniques.
- Once is not enough…but it’s a start.
The Art of the Croissant
Pastries and painting—what could be better?! I recently enjoyed a lengthy watercolor session with fellow artist friends, one of whom is also a master pastry chef. Making croissants, I learned, is a two-day affair of rolling, layering, folding, and chilling dough—an art in itself, which seemed fitting to commemorate on the page.

Fit for a queen, Marie Antoinette is credited with introducing the Austrian kipferl , a crescent-shaped pastry that originated in Austria, to France around 1770. French pastry chefs jazzed the simple crescent to create the croissants we know and love.
Winter Wren
Small in stature, but with an exuberant song that makes up for it, the winter wren is more frequently heard than seen. The song always surprises me— warbled and sweet, it goes on and on, ringing through deep, moist northern forests in Maine where I hear it each summer*.
I went to the Yale Peabody Museum of Natural History in New Haven for a reference for the winter wren. On display in its ornithology collection are five species of North American wrens. None is very large, but the winter wren is astoundingly tiny— only about 3-4 inches (8 cm). I much prefer drawing and painting from specimens than photographs, as there is much finer detail to see in the feather pattern and color. I also watched a couple of videos of winter wrens and looked at different images of the bird, so that I had more than a single reference for the final piece.
I did the studies in my Stillman & Birn Beta watercolor journal; the final painting is on Arches 300lb cold pressed paper, which is a superior quality paper that allows you to build up many layers of paint. I took a couple of photos of the painting in progress to give you a sense of how the bird took shape:
*ARTS AND BIRDING, 2016, Registration Open!
Hog Island Audubon Camp in Maine
You can hear the beautiful song of the winter wren, along with the calls of puffins, terns, gulls, and the gentle lapping of waves on rocky shore during Arts and Birding, 2016. I’m heading up a 5-day session for artists and photographers July 10-15, 2016. Get details on my Workshop page or on the Hog Island website.
My Mother’s Essentials
M&Ms, Diet Coke, butter, and a pharmacy of prescription drugs keep my mother going these days. But after drawing her kitchen table while doing an overnight shift to care for her this week, I quickly realized that my drawing would be incomplete without the addition of the other essentials that keep her alive. In spite of physical decline and hardship, her 70-pound, arthritis-riddled body is no match for her indomitable spirit and force of will.

Drawn with Micron 02 and 005 black pens, watercolor in Stillman & Birn “Beta” sketch journal. Click to view larger
Admittedly, it’s strange to share a page like this one. But it’s also the honest reflection of my life at the moment, which is what I like to capture in my journal. And hopefully, my mom won’t mind too much…
Moods of Autumn
I met Connecticut artist Jan Blencowe last week and we headed to Hammonassett Beach State Park to sketch together. The Connecticut coast is on the Long Island Sound, rather than directly on the Atlantic, so there is no surf. Instead, stretches of quiet beach and boulders dropped by glaciers some 17,000 years ago line the coast. Hammonassett also preserves 460 acres of salt marsh and that’s where we headed to try to capture the color and mood of Autumn.
The day was bright, but windy and cool. After sketching the salt marsh for awhile, I retreated from the wind into an upland area of oaks and, sheltered behind a boulder, I did some quick and admittedly sloppy sketches of leaves directly in ink. Back at home, I added color, keeping the washes loose to mirror the quality of the sketches. At that point, the page looked rough and unfocused and, disappointed, I set it aside. Several days later, in a fit of frustration over something I couldn’t find, I decided to use the page to record things I had discarded in my recent move to Connecticut that I wish I’d kept. That gave the page the focus it needed. It also helped me see how small and insignificant those things really were. And like so many leaves in the wind, I let them go.
Life and Pears
The allure of supermarket pears is real: perfectly shaped, beautifully colored, promisingly sweet. Pears grown wild are not like that. They come warped and blemished; who knows what’s inside. Life and pears…not the way they’re supposed to be, but how they are. Sometimes sweet, sometimes rotten. “It’s how we cope that makes the difference.”
Beautifully Poisonous
I found a ring of impressive mushrooms in the lawn outside my son’s apartment in Lexington, Virginia last weekend. It had been raining for several days, which brought on the fall bloom. Curious, I picked these samples, drew them, and then did some research to identify them and learn more. How fun to discover something so beautifully poisonous!
I’ve done many pages like this over the years. I love finding something that I don’t know much about, sketching it, taking notes, reading and researching, and combining it all on the page. The result not only records my experience, it also advances my awareness and understanding as a naturalist. If you are interested in art and nature, I highly recommend creating your own field sketches and notes. Pick up something of interest and see where it takes you!
No Rules
“To me there are no rules…except those which your own feelings suggest and he who renders nature to make one feel sentiment of such, to me is the greatest man.”
— J. Alden Weir, 1876
As a pioneer of American Impressionism, J. Alden Weir set aside the artistic conventions of his day to explore new ways of painting. His words are a good reminder to me to take risks, connect with a subject, and express what I see and feel. While visiting Weir’s former home, now the Weir Farm National Historic Site in Connecticut, I had just a short time to sketch, so I don’t think I was altogether successful in illustrating his words. They really should be paired with the spreading oaks and maples, stone walls, red barns, and scenic landscapes of his farm. But who knows– maybe Weir would be forgiving, telling me to forget what “should be” and keep putting brush to paper.










