True Autumn

                                              Jackson Bottom watercolor on paper 14x11 inches
 

 It`s here with the full entourage of radiant temporary color. Beauty so insistent, it stops the machine of my thinking. Interrupts my worry with a blinding golden light. Maybe things will be ok? For today, yes is the answer. Lucky Oregon! Autumn and Spring defy memory. Each time they arrive it seems it has never been so sublime. What did I do to deserve this again? My favorite part is still to come. When the transplanted trees from elsewhere flame out, the natives have their moment. Not as overwhelming as the others but so poignant, the yellows and pinks against the muddy rivers flowing fast again with the rain. It`s great and I suspect it`s good everywhere, right? We all love Fall.

Thank you to those who visited my studio this month during the Portland Open Studios! It was a very successful event by all accounts. Such a social and radical shift from the solitude of painting! I don`t think I will ever stop being amazed that a total stranger will talk knowingly about what I do. In my process, doubt is nearly always present, but not during open studios! Thank you to anyone who looks at my work thoughtfully. That`s exactly what I want yet so rarely see for myself.

                                               April Study watercolor on Yupo 12x9 inches

 This began on location a couple of years ago but I never liked the bottom half. With yupo you can just wipe it off with a damp paper towel. I added a fruit tree in bloom and now I like it.

                                           Cliffside Study watercolor on paper 11x11 inches

  I`m trying, with these landscapes, to integrate some of the insights I`ve gained by working abstractly. But I don`t see much difference yet. The painting below was intended to be a subtle yet lively composition of patterns and textures but it became more realistic, not less;

                                               Rainforest Winter watermedia on Yupo 26x20

 Last weekend I went to see Betsy Chang. She`s an acquaintance I met a few years ago through this blog. She was working in watercolor and we were both interested in Georgia O`keefe`s watercolor paper from the early 20th century. To me, those fresh abstract landscapes were the best work of O`keefe`s life.  I`ve been following Betsy`s work on Instagram ever since. Abruptly her course changed to pure abstraction in oils and acrylics and this made me curious. There is something special and unique to her touch, the way she moves a brush. I can see something original by her marks. I think it might have been apparent even in her childhood. Talent is often demoted to just one of many characteristics in an artists life, and I mostly agree. However we`ve all known people with very particular gifts. The abilities show up early and often overtake the lives of young people.

 So I asked if I could see what she had been working on. Since we had been in touch, she also had a baby, born during this frightening, confusing time. Her studio was absolutely crammed with work everywhere. Big stacks of watercolors on all level surfaces. I thought my god, she`s done all of this while caring for an infant, working a full time job and coping with a global pandemic! I could tell it was stressful to be sure, but I was impressed by the obsession. She had to make those paintings, that`s who she is. Without attention, sales or a gallery, she just made her paintings. I admire this so much. Even if choice isn`t a factor, whatever is moving through her, I think it`s holy.

                                                                         Betsy Chang

                                                                         Betsy Chang

                                                                        Betsy Chang

                                                                          Betsy Chang

So how does Betsy or anyone else get a gallery? Artnet tells you how, right here.

Nest weekend!

And the Sitka Invitational, for your art+nature needs

 I will have three of my new abstract watercolors in the show

If you haven`t thought about pandemics enough, here is an article about earlier ones and how they were eventually overcome.

Finished this morning;

                                                       watercolor on Yupo 14x11 inches

White Bird watermedia show

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New Watermedia

                                                  Rain in the Forest watermedia on Yupo 20x26


 Although not a proper word, watermedia is the term I use for any combination of watercolors, acrylics, inks and water soluble dry mediums. In the throes of painting, anything I can reach may be of use. It is a major advantage of having two painting areas on my studio so that I don`t mix up oils and watercolors by accident.
I will apply oil paint on top of a watermedia piece, but only if there is a barrier layer of acrylic. Anyway, underneath the painting above is a weak attempt to show what an autumn rain is like here. A year later, I got much closer.

                                                     Ice Fog watermedia on Yupo 20x20


 Here is another effort to rescue a failure.
The experience of walking through the field with tiny ice particles stinging my face was so unique, I haven`t been able to abandon this painting. Even now I`m trying to talk myself into believing this is subtle and delicate when it is probably just boring. My tenacity is a positive most of the time but it can entrap me.

                                                      Dry Rivulet watercolor on Yupo 26x20


 Pure watercolor! I rejected the restrictive rules about traditional technique decades ago, yet when I can pull it off, I`m happy! I have my cake, now I`ll eat it!
I get annoyed by the acceptance of received 'wisdom', unexamined theory, and historical instructions. It`s a hair trigger response to authority. Wherever it comes from. I was not a good student as I got older.

                                                        Cobalt Forest watercolor on Yupo 12x9


 In trying out some small scale pours of liquid paint, another forest came into view in front of me. Imagine that. Formulaic painting is deadly, I may need to leave the trees for a while.

                                                                photo by Mitch Burrell


 Summer is undeniably over. The last plein air outing was miserable perched above the creek in tiny Oswego canyon. The cold air hovered at ground level and my watercolors would not dry.
We`re talking now about some indoor, winter equivalents, maybe still life or portraits.
Las LOPAS will never die!
Here is the one I was working on when the photo above was taken;

                                                  Late Summer Grove watermedia on Yupo 14x11

                                                                 Lyndon


 He`s all grown up now.
Because of his thick coat and hairy toes, we thought he may be part Maine Coon cat, but they grow to be much bigger.
I recently ran across an article on cat breeds best suited for families. One was called a Rag Doll, which I had never heard of. They have the name because they go limp in your arms when you carry them. They are very affectionate and want to be involved in everything. The oddest thing about them is they don`t meow. When I come up from the studio, Lyndon meets me in the kitchen talking non stop. His mouth is moving but there is no sound. It`s adorable.

However, when he gets on the stairs and looks down on us with that psychotic gaze, you can see he has one thing on his mind, and one thing only...  murder.



In the latest scandal involving the president I hadn`t paid too much attention until I read a blistering defense of Myeshia Johnson and Congresswoman Wilson by the poet Lesle Honore this morning. The president tried to do the right thing in calling the widow to offer condolences. Being inexperienced in kindness, he flubbed it, then of course made it all worse since.
In the poem she addresses General Kelly after his remarks defending Trump;

Fredericka Wilson is far from empty
Do you understand the boldness it takes
to aspire to what you have never seen
to walk through life
Being told you are nothing
and still rise
From Teacher
To Principal
To Mentor
To Congresswoman

You said there was a time
when things were
Sacred
When women were sacred
When have Black Women
ever been
Sacred here ?

We have only been Sacred
to each other

     by Lesle Honore


just three stanza, out of order, yet the question of when black women have ever been sacred here, in our country, points a bright penetrating light on the truth.

 The Sitka Art Invitational is only two weeks away! Mark it on your calendar!
 It is the best venue for seeing lots of excellent landscapes and nature themed art works.

Shinrin-yoku for real

                                                         Shinrin-yoku 2 oil on canvas 20x20


 One of my pieces in this weekend`s Sitka Invitational at the Forestry Center in Portland. The show is a benefit for the one of the coolest institutions I know of, The Sitka Center for Art and Ecology in Otis OR. Unusual provocative classes in summer, long generous residencies for artists and scholars in winter. Forty years ago, Frank and Jane Boyden had a great idea and they made it a reality. Not many do that, especially in their 20s.
This is a worthy exhibition full of landscapes and nature themed art of an unusually high quality. Give it a look and then take a walk through the arboretum while you`re up there, it`s spectacular right now!


 When I got up at 5 to go to the bathroom, I could see out my window the street lamp was a hazy glowing ball. Fog!! At last!
Just last night I was looking at my photos from autumn 2015 and remembered I wasn`t out and about too much then. This year is different. I set out early for the Tualatin-Durham-Cook`s Park trinity of autumn wonder. Once there I had a long soaking Shrinrin-yoku, a forest bath, and it did me good.
Cold wet fog always reminds me of being a kid, camping with my family on the coast of Northern California or Oregon. We fled the heat of the Inland Empire in summer and drove north. In those foggy state parks we were cool.
Look what I saw this morning;

 Now is a time for faith. Vote, then trust our great country to do the right thing. Breathe deep.

Now we know



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