14″x11″ pastel on sanded paper
“You must live in the present, launch yourself on every wave, find your eternity in each moment. Fools stand on their island of opportunities and look toward another land. There is no other land; there is no other life but this.” -Henry David Thoreau
10″x8″ oil on panel
Below is my painting photographed in the scene. Pictured is my trusty, little Alla Prima Pochade box, that can hold 4 wet panels. A 4 paining day remains a lofty goal, I have hit it twice so far on this trip.
I started with an acrylic under painting in 2 values. I scraped ochre, and violet thinly on with a palette knife, leaving the white canvas to make a third value. Then I mixed some big puddles of paint, and painted fast, waiting for the figures way down on the beach to get into position. I captured them with a few strokes each, cleaning up my mess using the negative space around them.
I quickly spread a warm, orange-rose underpainting where I saw all the warms. I used acrylic and a palette knife, and was playing with the shape and design of the composition. I wished, as I was painting the sunset, I would have covered the whole canvas, or perhaps put a different color under the non-warm section because I love the way thick paint skips over the heavy textured canvas, and the white skips left something to be desired.
10″ x 8″ oil on panel
I started with a panel primed in Naples yellow, and painted fast.
The water is warmer than the air, so it is fun to wade, but my wet feet feel really cold after the sun goes down, and the temps drop into the 40s.
Beautiful day to watch the waves, and soak up some vitamin D, even if it is a bit cold for bathing.
If are in need of some sunshine, or just a vacation…sprinkle a little sand in your sandwhich and enjoy these next posts…We are going to the beach!
Note to any artist who is wishing to paint more in plein air. Painting outside is awkward, and hard, and invaluable to what it adds to your ability to see and paint inside and out. My advice: practice. Practice setting up your easel, or paint box, practice inside when no one is watching and work out the kinks of your equipment.
I will paint you a scenario from last spring…. I set up to paint the sunset on the beach, in oil, with a new travel easel. I spend the summer painting sunrise and sunsets plein air, in the DESERT, in PASTELS. Imagine my arrogance at thinking I could handle this new medium, subject, and hardware with ease. Well, as beach sunsets at popular vacation destinations tend to do…a crowd gathered, and my easel offered more of an attraction. So I was setting up a new easel, in the sand, and the wind, with a crowd curiously looking on. I had NEVER set up this easel, it was almost like the old one. ALMOST, did I bring the instructions? Nope. Was I wishing I would have practiced at home? Hmmm, maybe this screw goes this way? Or perhaps I have to turn this bracket around? I was dropping bolts in the sand and cursing myself. I finally sat down in the sand embarrassed. I forced my way through the painting, but it was awkward. I wasn’t familiar with the colors I would need. Finally I rode my bike to a coffee shop the next day to use wifi, and found a video of how to set up the easel. NOTE: parts have been reversed for shipping the first time you set up this easel you will have to completely disassemble and reassemble. I learned my lesson.
I decided to take a bit of my own advice today. Paint a sunset (from a photo), no wind, no crowd, no pressure. I set my timer and set to work, I learned there are colors I wished I would have had and wished I would have pre toned the canvas. Good lessons for the next beach painting session.
While riding my bike on spring break, I looked down and noticed a beautiful little plant with tiny leaves. “That looks like thyme” I said to my husband. “How do you know?” He asked. “I’ve always had thyme in my garden. Will you hand me a little? I want to taste it and make sure.” Tasted just like thyme. “Look we are surrounded by it, it is all over the trail” I exclaimed. “Could you use it”. My husband asked. “Yes thyme would make our fresh seafood dinner taste lovely.” I responded. We rode along in silence for a few minutes, and my husband wisely said “you should replay our whole conversation in your head, but replace the word thyme, with the word time.”
The next day we found all the thyme on the trail in bloom. The thyme became a metaphor for my family vacation, I wanted to notice it, use it, enjoy it, add a little extra to everything. I wanted our time together to bloom.
I painted this in the car traveling home, using the last bit of time left from our vacation.