Not All Fun & Games

Making art isn't always the cakewalk some-to-many nonartists think it is.

When an artist dude (say, for example, me) is a representational painter, one might think all we should have to do is paint what's there. Some realist painters do that -- every leaf, every blade of grass, every feather, every hair...whatever.

Problem is -- that slows down the process a lot, which means the painting takes longer to do, and a higher price tag has to hang from the finished piece.

Perhaps more importantly, a painting where every square inch/square centimeter is sharp and detailed can be hard to look at. If you look at the Old Masters, you may notice most of the edges are softened and blended EXCEPT for a spot the artist considered most important--that spot will be sharp and often contains the area of highest contrast -- the darkest dark and the lightest light -- within the work. The sharpness and contrast tends to draw (no pun intended!) attention to itself. In essense, the artist makes you want to look at the important feature in the work.

The attached image is "The Adoration of the Shepherds" by Guido Reni from the National Gallery, London. The painting is detailed throughout but also features softened lines and relatively dark colors throughout -- except for the infant Jesus. He is the lightest, brightest area in the piece, and I suspect (not having seen the original) probably has the sharpest detailing of the entire painting. How can you NOT look at the cute little guy?

There you have it -- your art lesson for today. A good painting is more planned than you may have thought. And doesn't it just make you feel all warm and fuzzy to know that you've been manipulated by the artist to look at what s/he wanted you to look at?

Dreams of Tuscany

Images of Tuscany are somewhat of the popular thing these days, at least in this area. Many new homes are designed with a Tuscan/Mediterranean look, and people like to put Tuscan-themed artwork in these homes.

One of my galleries asked me to paint some landscapes that have a Tuscany feel, but I have to confess: I've never been to Italy, so I have to depend on others' photos to see what the place looks like (although I don't copy other artists' photos). Tuscany seems to look like a combination of southern California and the Napa Valley vineyards.

Still, I've never been content to do what all the other Tuscany artists do. So I try to make some changes in the "look." Whether that helps or hurts as far as sales go, I'm not sure. But I don't make that many Tuscany paintings, since I consider the desert to be my forte anyway.

The inserted painting is an impression of Tuscany with the borrowed distinctive classical look of Claude Lorrain, a favorite 17th century French artist. Luv da guy!! (I think that's French for "I love this artist"!)

Cute Quail

Besides bunnies, I really enjoy the Gambels quail we have in the desert. I love their rounded forms, cute little topknots on their heads and--preferring to run rather than fly--feet that move unbelievably fast when they're on the move. And apparently, quail don't need to bob their heads back and forth as most other birds do when they walk or run.

Quail have some habits that remind me of chickens. Males will charge and jump at each other with wings open, although fighting is relatively rare. When they're looking for seeds or other goodies to eat, they'll scratch the ground --just like chickens. (They scratch three times with one leg, then once with the other).

I noticed if a coyote comes through, the quail will follow along behind at a safe distance, sort of chirping and "wimpering" as they go--in other words, not being particularly inconspicuous. A book I have about quail mentions this peculiar behavior, too, and no one knows why they do this. (They sure don't follow ME around like that!)

As with bunnies, I like to include quail in paintings, although admittedly painting a quail is more involved than painting a bunny. Sometimes it depends on how much energy I have left by the time I get to the point of inserting a desert critter into the desert.

Ocotillo Heaven

Ocotillo ("oh-koe-TEE-yo") are the clumps of spindly sticks with the green leaves and red-orange flowers seen in the painting on the right. We desert dwellers, as well as people who love the desert but who don't live there, really seem to get off on these things. It's fun to see them in their natural state, but you'll see them in desert gardens everywhere.

The painting depicts one of many areas where you'll see ocotillo grow. This is south of Palm Desert, California in the foothills of Mt. San Jacinto. You can see a part of Deep Canyon way off at the base of the distant hills. Deep Canyon is a biological research station and is closed to the public. I've been to this overlook many times, until I found out these hills are part of the research center and, therefore, I was impacting the region just by being there! Oh, well. I won't be hiking there again, although there are some well-worn trails made by other human beans looking for the same beauty of the desert as I was.

In the foreground I painted the commonly-occurring zebra-tailed lizard. I love lizards almost as much as I love bunnies, and in fact I often include one or the other, or both, in my paintings. It's fun to "hide" critters in the paintings, which is how you'll often discover the animals--blending in with their surroundings; they see you but you don't see them, until you get too close--then you'll see a puff of dust, a rattle of dry leaves or the blur of an undistinguishable figure as the critter bolts for safety.

Those Wascally Wabbits

...or those cute little bunnies, as I'm more apt to say.

I normally don't take pictures of critters with my digital camera--the autofocus feature makes it respond much too slowly for anything that's not inclined to sit still for me. But sometimes I get lucky, as the picture to the right proves.

I must confess to my sins, however. I do actually attract critters like bunnies to our area, partly because it makes me feel good and mostly because I try to take pictures of them to use in paintings. What is my sin, you may ask? I have containers of water for them, and I put out rabbit pellets for the bunnies and chicken scratch for the Gambels quail (actually, bunnies like the scratch, too!) More on the quail later.

Living in a desert region where habitat is sadly disappearing, I feel like I'm giving the critters a helping hand. On the other hand, I'm concerned I may be enabling them to reproduce beyond the region's ability to support them without help. Feeding wild mammals can be an especially bad idea, particularly when the mammals can produce LOTS of offspring.

Of course, we're indirectly feeding the predators, too, since we're supporting the prey. But the predators had a hard time catching the prey around here due to all the wickedly-thorny cholla cactus that grows around here. Still, we have witnessed "wildlife moments" when we happen to look out a window just in time to see a hawk catch and eat a dove or we see a roadrunner with a lizard or quail chick in its beak.

BTW: those roadrunner cartoons where coyote tries to lure the bird with a pile of birdseed while coyote attempts to drop a boulder or dynamite or something equally lethal on the poor roadrunner? IT AIN'T LIKE THAT!! Roadrunners are carnivorous, not seed-ivorous! And since they don't have talons or hooked beaks like hawks and eagles, they have to tear up the meat by whipping their prey against rocks. That's really hard to watch when their prey is a cute "fuzzball" quail chick, but it's all part of how nature works.

The Vast Spaces of the Southwest

"The Vast Spaces of the Southwest" is the tagline I use on my biz cards, stationery, Website, wherever. The line sums up what I love about the desert the most -- all that uncluttered space and distance that seems to extend to infinity. The accompanying photo, taken in Joshua Tree National Park, California, is a perfect example of what inspires me to paint. In fact, I've already painted this scene once, and I expect to do at least one more. IMO, it's a great view, especially with the lighting and the cloud shadows that add rhythm to the landscape.

Unfortunately, I haven't felt like visiting the Park this week. It's been hot and humid lately (it's not always a dry heat around here!). 'Tho' we have A/C in our vehicles, our house has only an evaporative cooler, which doesn't cool as well when it's humid. So I've been a little unmotivated lately!

BUT -- art must go on!

Wotta hole!!!

The Grand Canyon...there's nothing like it. My wife and I went on a trip to to the area and arrived at the East entrance to the Grand Canyon amidst a rain/snow mix. We couldn't see the Canyon at all...at first. But we continued on, thinking we'd just head to the hotel and stay out of the weather. Then we arrived at Moran Point, where the clouds were clearing and spots of sunlight were dancing across the formations. OF COURSE, I just had to paint it! I painted it the way it looked; next time I may make it even more dramatic.

The next turnout, Grandview, had similar lighting and clouds floating by. I've seen that in photos and paintings, but I've never seen that for myself in real life. It didn't last long, however, and soon we were back to gray fog out there. But we had a few moments of magic, and they'll stay with us for a lifetime!