It’s a perennial theme come March: the need for green. The hunger usually drives me to visit a greenhouse for a day of warmth and chlorophyll. Barring that this year, I’m stuck with my houseplants. A poor substitute, to be sure, but it’s nice to paint something that isn’t brown for a change.
Tips & Techniques– How do you know when you’re finished? That question was posed to me by one of my class participants last week and it gave me pause. I have an intuitive sense about it, but the question forced me to define what I do at the final stages more specifically. In addition to watching this page evolve, consider these questions to evaluate your work at the final stages:
Have you developed a full range of values?
How’s the composition? Do you want to add anything to strengthen it?
Do you want to add text?
Would a border pull things together?
Did you convey what you set out to?
The Green Palette: Sap green, yellow ochre and Prussian blue are the main colors I used to mix these greens (Prussian and yellow ochre make some nice gray-greens). The darker greens are sap green and ultramarine. The grays are mainly violet and yellow ochre. I added a light wash of aureolin in places to brighten the other greens.
My sketches this week are an effort to appreciate the small pleasures of life and to look for joy in the everyday. Typically, I wander out into nature for inspiration, but I didn’t need to go beyond my own kitchen this week. For the savory: a bunch of ordinary parsnips that seem to dance on the page. And for the sweet: a delectable batch of cream puffs that I made from scratch for the first time ever. If I could offer you one or the other, there’s no question which it would be. Instead, I give you both and wish you sweet moments to savor during the week ahead.
A tangle in the brush. Strips of woven grape vine and grass. A downy mass of cattails bound with sedges and reeds. No matter where I find them or what they’re made of, I simply find bird nests irresistible. I have been drawing and painting bird nests weekly since November, in part because I’ve been teaching a class on The Art of the Bird, but also because I love the challenge and the beauty of painting nests. So, today, you get a gallery of nests…enjoy! (Click any image to view larger.)
1. Collecting on Paper- These nests are in the collection of the Pember Museum of Natural History, which recently reopened after months of pandemic closure. I spent two hours in front a single glass case, pen in hand, and could easily have gone another two.
2. Vireo- Using ink and watercolor is my favorite approach to rendering a nest. It gives me the satisfaction of drawing and a solid roadmap for adding color.
3. Marsh wren- I did the all watercolor nest as part of a class demonstration. Afterward, I decided to do it again using ink first. Which do you prefer?
4. Black chinned hummingbird- This was another class demonstration with a simpler nest to help participants work on making nests dimensional with light and shadow.
5. Red-winged blackbird- The larger strands of a blackbird’s nest make it easier to weave with paint.
6. A single egg- When my cousin asked me to paint a nest with a single blue egg to celebrate the birth of her first grandchild, I gladly accepted. I did two versions– one with ink and one without– to offer her a choice of styles. And while the due date has come and gone, I’m happy to say that the nest was delivered on time.
You would think that finding the walnut-sized egg case of a praying mantis in a two-acre overgrown field would be like finding a needle in a haystack. And, indeed, it is. I walked deep into the field, following deer trails and battling thorns and waste-high goldenrod stems. I didn’t go out especially looking for the egg cases. I just needed to get out in the cold, to go wandering in a rare moment of sun, during this dark week in American history.
Finding hope in times of unimaginable tyranny and loss seems equally elusive.
But there, amidst a small grove of white pines, among matted goldenrod and tangled thorny wild roses, I spied it: one frothy egg case, and then another. In all, I found six.
So, my simple takeaway—as much for myself as for you: keep looking.
Technique Takeaway: Improving Your Sketchbook Layouts and Lettering Friday 1/15/20, 2-3:30pm (PST) / 5-6:30pm (EST) $40 Register: Winslow Art Center This program will offer approaches to thinking about page design and improving your sketchbook page layouts. We’ll also explore ways to add text as a graphic element, or simply as a way to capture additional information and meaning.
The Nature Explorer’s Sketchbook Thursday1/21/21, 6-7 pm, FREE; ages 10+ Register: Mohawk Hudson Land Conservancy Ask questions and draw along with me as I share some activities and tips from my new book to spark your curiosity. This session is especially suited to the 10+ year-old artist, explorer, or nature lover — and adults who have wanted to try nature journaling.
Outdoors is where the action is when you are a nature sketcher. Yet when the last leaves drop and cold weather sets in, even the best outdoor sketching habits can begin to wane. In years past, my sketchbook often went untouched for weeks in winter. But for the last several years, I have resolved to sketch both inside and out all winter long, and I’ve learned a few things along the way. I’m hoping my top tips will help you keep your sketching habit alive all winter long, too.
1. Over dress, under pack. It is possible, even fun, to sketch outside in winter. Wearing extra warm layers will give you extra time while sketching. But there is no point in taking a full sketch kit. Pare down to your sketchbook and your favorite pencil or pen.
2. Sketch outside, paint inside. Even if you only spend 10 or 20 minutes outdoors, being outside will add freshness to your sketches and help you notice what’s happening in nature throughout the year. Snap a photo for color reference or make color notes on your page and paint when you return home. Working this way will help you simplify when painting and will also improve your color memory.
3. Don’t rule out the small stuff. I used to think I should only paint important subjects or nature subjects or meaningful subjects. But once I gave up that notion, all sorts of possibilities presented themselves. There’s real value in sketching ordinary objects. Not only will this keep you going, but you’ll practice different textures and techniques without the pressure of trying to make a masterpiece.
4. Seek shelter. Use your car as a mobile studio. You’ll be able to go father to seek out new subjects, and you may even be able to add some color. Just refer to Tip 1 before heading out. Cars are cramped and still get cold. You can also sketch what’s outside your windows. Bird feeders, trees, shadows on snow, and skies make fine subjects.
5. Treat yourself. No matter how disciplined your sketching practice, if you’re at all like me, you’ll get tired of sketching in the cold. Plan a trip to a local botanical garden, greenhouse, or museum in February. Buy flowers in March (or sooner, if needed).
Try setting a goal for yourself for sketching throughout the winter. Maybe it’s getting outside once a month or once when the temperature dips below 50-degrees (or 40 or 30!). Or consider just completing one sketch each month, or each week. Enjoy what you discover…It will be spring before you know it.
Thanks to everyone who came to my class on Sketching Through the Winter at Winslow Art Center!
Here are a few favorites from the winter archives.
What is it about this giant old sugar maple that has me captivated? I painted the same tree last week, though from a different vantage point, but it still has a hold on me. So, I stand outside in the late day cold trying to untangle the jumble of big limbs. I work the branches and the spaces between them, piecing together how everything fits. I get lost in the lines, shift focus, keep going. Forty-five minutes later, my own limbs are growing stiff.
I could go out tomorrow and begin again.
Sketching Through the Winter 12/18/20 4-5:30 (EST) / 1-2:30 (PST), FREE, via Zoom Register: Winslow Art Center Grab your sketchbook and join me for inspiration and techniques for sketching both inside and out throughout the winter.
A work colleague surprised me last week when we stepped outside on a chilly afternoon and she declared, “November is my favorite month.” I was taken aback. In my entire life, I have never heard anyone choose November. We talked about what she liked so much: breathing in cold air, deep blue skies at dusk, quiet, Thanksgiving. Since that conversation, I have gone looking for Rosemary’s November. I’ve walked country roads late in the day, listened to geese overhead, and poked around the margins of weedy wetlands. Here’s what I found, and I send it to you with gratitude for following this blog and sharing your kind comments and thoughtful insights all year long. Here’s to November!
Tips and Techniques- Where to begin? I recommend starting with your sketchbook and a pen or pencil and a walk. Out on the roadside, or on a trail, walk for awhile until your mind stops thinking about what you were just doing or what you need to do or all the other things happening in your life. Walk until you start to become more present and begin to notice what’s around you. Then start looking. Look at the plants, watch for wildlife, see what’s happening. Then pick something that intrigues you and sketch it. I first noticed a single goldenrod gall and then saw about 30 more all around it. That’s how this page began. After you have something on your page, walk and look some more. Keep adding things until your page is full or its too cold and you have to go home. Hopefully, those will happen about the same time and you can retreat with a full page of discoveries.
In springtime, birds tuck their nests into dense foliage and tangled vines. In fall, I try to find as many nests as I can. It is a game of hide and seek in which the birds always win. Still, I walk in woods and fields and along the roadside, taking new paths, looking from new angles, scanning the trees. I count every nest as a victory; a way to understand the place where I live and the creatures that inhabit it. Alas, it is no easy task. Though I think I am paying attention, here are two recent finds that prove otherwise. I walked past these two nests several times a week all summer and fall without seeing a thing.
Tips and Techniques– Most birds—and their eggs, feathers, and nests—are protected by the Migratory Bird Treaty Act of 1918. The law ensures the sustainability of populations of all protected migratory bird species. Unless you have a permit from the U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service, you should not collect these things. Instead, sketch them where you find them, take a photo, and leave them in place. In addition, seek out nature centers and natural history museums that have a permit. Their collections are invaluable to educators, researchers, students, and artists.
Fall is here, but the final blooms of zinnias and Mexican sunflowers continue in the garden, along with a tangle of scarlet runner bean and cypress vines. I’m hoping that the remaining tomatoes ripen before we get a hard frost. Perhaps there will be one more journal page to mark the end of the season. But just in case, the last of the show seems well deserving of a late season tribute.
Tips and Techniques– I could have selected only the finest remaining blooms for this sketch, but it wouldn’t have reflected the reality of the tangled mess or plants in various stages of bloom and decay that mark the October garden. So, while you may be tempted to paint a beautiful bouquet (and there’s nothing wrong with that), consider the value of marking the seasons and showing the imperfect reality that is inherent in a fall garden (and life itself).
Bird eggs are full of potential. In the most elegant and simple form, they remind us of new beginnings, of possibilities. Surrounding them, of course, is the tangled mess. Sometimes, great things hatch, sometimes not. In this case, the adult robins disappeared, leaving these three eggs behind. In discovering them, I suppose, the untapped potential passed to me. If not in life, then in art, the birds’ legacy lives on.