The Color of Light: An Artist's Blog

I've really been enjoying snapping photos outside my home and using them for reference photos lately. The grass is tall, summer is here and I'm fortunate to be surrounded by trees and beauty.

This scene caught my attention a few days ago as I was walking around my front yard. I knew immediately it would make a good painting because of all the drama of the lights and darks, especially right in the focal area. A great way to make a statement in your painting is to contrast your lightest and darkest values at your focal point.

Here are a couple of photos of my progression of this painting.  First I sketched in the shapes with charcoal. After that I put my darks in first, then put in my lightest light and brightest brights so I have a framework. I know I won't go lighter, darker, or brighter than what I've initially put down.

Foliage and greens are some of my favorites things to paint and this piece was a joy. The bonus is that it sold within an hour of posting it. 

It's been too hot lately to spend much time in my studio. Last night my husband set up a portable AC unit for me, so now I'm able to get back at it. But yesterday was nearly 100 degrees f and I could only spend a short period of time in the studio. So I decided to do a quick study of light and color. 

Quick studies are a great way to loosen up and see big shapes and values. I worked on black Artspectrum Colorfix paper and used Mt Vision pastels for this little piece. While it's not a masterpiece, working fast like I did with this painting is wonderful practice and I love creating such bold and fast marks.

Lately I've been obsessed with direct mark making - no underpainting, no scumbling layer after layer. There is something so freeing about laying down a mark in pastel and leaving it alone. I believe it's one of the reasons I come back again and again to pastel as opposed to other mediums. It is such a direct form of painting. The pigment is between my fingers being applied right onto the substrate - no brush between us.

I also love the way direct mark making appears in a successful piece. It's a no hold barred approach to getting an impression on paper, no fussing about or overworking. Here is an example of a piece I painted this week with a very direct approach.  I think I'll be working this way for awhile - I can't get enough of it.

I spent the last couple of days working for short bursts in the studio. We've been having a heat wave and I don't have air conditioning so it can make painting challenging on hot days. Luckily in my neck of the woods temps don't often exceed 75 f. Of course, external conditions will impact a painting. When it's so hot that I'm drenched in sweat standing before the easel, it's difficult to concentrate on anything other than cooling off. 

The materials used will also obviously impact the final product. This painting, a study of some pendant peonies in a pot in my front yard, was painted on Canson Mi-Tientes, an unsanded paper. While it can be a lovely surface to work on, it has its own set of challenges. It doesn't hold many pastel layers so you must be direct and have a roadmap for where you're going. Otherwise you must brush off pastel to "fix" something and risk losing the freshness of the piece.  Indeed, I ended up brushing and reworking this painting because I just wasn't happy with several aspects of it. 

I think there are a couple of ways to look at what constitutes success in a painting. The first one is the final product. Is this painting interesting and pleasing to look at? Does it keep the viewer engaged? Is it balanced, dynamic, and strong compositionally? If most of these answers are yes, it's likely a successful painting.

But there's another definition of a successful painting for me. While the final product may not fit into the above categories that define whether I offer it to my gallery or post it on my website, if a painting really teaches me something I consider it a success. Sometimes these lessons are needed many times! I have many paintings that never made it to my website or even onto social media that I still consider successes, because they've paved the road through trial and error to other successful pieces that "made the cut".

For example, this begonia painting lost its freshness due to overworking. Additionally, I cropped it to an 10" x 8", but the original idea was for a 12" x 9. This cropping compromised the strength of the composition, but it was the only way I'd show it to anyone or keep it out of the trash because I didn't like what was happening in the lower section. Even so, it will likely never see the light of day again, and will be pressed petals in the depths of my painting archives.

I consider this painting a success though, because it taught me to think carefully about the surface I choose to work on, to be confident in my composition and subject matter (perhaps even taking the time to do a small study for the larger study!), and to take care of myself. Instead of rushing through this piece because I couldn't stand the heat, perhaps I should waited for things to cool off. 

I recently pulled out a sheet of Wallis Belgian Mist archival paper to paint on. It's a gorgeous surface to work on but sadly is no longer manufactured so I don't use it often, as I have a limited supply. This paper is very gritty and holds many layers of pastel. For my fellow pastellists who can't get their hands on it, I'd compare it to UArt 240. 

I'm working on a sunset series and my technique for creating a smooth and gradated sky includes blending much more than I do with other subjects. While I love Wallis paper, I learned a hard lesson this week when I chose it for a sunset painting that required blending - very raw fingertips! I wasn't aware of how rough on my fingers this paper was being during the process of painting. It wasn't until the next day that I saw (and felt!) how my ring and pinky finger were cut and raw. 

In the future I'll save my beloved Wallis paper for still life, trees, or some other subject that doesn't require blending.

I love creating small paintings. There's a sense of freedom that comes with working on a small surface. First of all, if it doesn't work out I've only spent a relatively short amount of time on the piece. And I haven't wasted a large piece of expensive archival paper. 

It's difficult to put too much detail in a small painting which is a good thing because I try to avoid excess detail in any size painting. I prefer an impressionistic style that allows the viewer to use their imagination instead of giving away every detail. 

Additionally, smaller paintings tend to sell quickly. People love to give them as gifts and always seem to have a nook that would be enhanced by a small piece.

This painting took about two hours and I'm happy with the result. 

Playing with color is one of the main reasons I'm an artist. It's my favorite thing about the painting process! While I enjoy drawing, composition, value studies, and even cleaning my studio, nothing compares to working with glorious color. 

My family usually has a party on Independence Day and due to the pandemic this year I was feeling a bit down that we weren't able to have our annual gathering. So I decided to cheer myself up by creating a bold piece filled with just about every color in the spectrum.

If you study this painting you'll find many colors in it. These sunflowers are comprised of everything from red, blue, turquoise, pink, violet, orange, and more. Look in the field and you'll find the same. 

Layering hues in pastel is such a joy. With the proper light touch, the layers below shine through and create a translucent veil of a multitude of colors. Even better, the crystal pigments in pastel create an unparalleled shine and brilliance I've never seen in any other medium. 

When I need some cheering up heading to the studio and creating a bright colorful painting is just the ticket.