TRANQUILITY

Blackberry Blooms on the Bend
8 x 6

June, 2012  Cedaroak Boat Ramp
Cottonwood seed drifts through the air along the riverbank, showing the direction of the wind as surely as the telltale of a sailboat.  I breathe in at the wrong time, taking in a chunk of fuzz.  Coughs, sneezes, and my head clears.  I notice the sounds of the park: waves, boat motors, birds, a guitar.   A chainsaw.  The tranquility is easily broken.  I tune my attention to the visual, the movement of the water and the glow on the bushes.  Tranquility returns.

SUNRISE SWIRLS

Daylight Savings Time! The time when naturally late risers get one more chance to fit in a few more sunrise paintings. The sky looks very clear as I approach the boat ramp where I like to paint. But the lighter the sky gets, the more I can see a delicate, curled cloud that seems to hang over the river. A golden glow rises over the trees.


The boat ramp is busy today. It must be the start of some Salmon run. Boat trailers fill half the parking lot, and it is only 6:30. The fishermen passing by probably wonder what I’m doing, with my van door open and my easel just outside. I wish the van had an awning. But then it would almost be a camper–yech.

CEDAROAK PAINTOUT AND LOCAL COLOR VIEWING

CEDAROAK PAINTOUT AND LOCAL COLOR VIEWING
I drive over to Cedaroak Boat Ramp for a (small) group paintout, and find the ramp quiet. Two boat trailers stand in the lot. I set up my paints at the end of the floating dock for a view of the river and parting clouds. I’m just beginning to wish I’d sent Mark a map when he shows up.
We are surrounded by exquisite changing scenes as the light comes and goes on the lagoon and cloud formations work their way up river. The clear spots of sky are turquoise and glowing. The clouds have that warm golden cast they get in late afternoon. One behemoth drops a few raindrops on us, then passes on. We are undisturbed.
After a lovely paintout in which Mark produces two little gems and I paint this:
we adjourn to my house to watch the movie LOCAL COLOR. Maria joins us, and my husband, Rick. The non-painter’s review of the movie is “enh”. I myself am thoroughly entertained by the painterly elements. The scenery is exquisite, and beautifully filmed. In the houses are tantalizing glimpses of paintings, at which I go... wait! Zoom in there, I want to have a look at that. I want to look up Nicoli Seroff and see his paintings. And I am extremely curious about the parade of bad and less bad paintings the young painter trots out for critique.
It’s fun to watch the painters. The young man looks really awkward with a brush in his hand, and dabs at the canvas as if he were told: for this scene, dab a bit on the canvas here. I can just imagine some artist directing him how to stand, how to hold the brush, how to look at the landscape. But he just isn’t convincing. The old man, he looks like he’s painted before. I don’t know, they usually do a pretty good job with piano players in movies, but then you can always photograph a pianist’s hands. (I hear Hugh Laurie is a pretty good pianist.) Sitting down with my computer and Wikipedia, I find that this is a semi-autobiographical story about George Gallo, and that he pulled out actual paintings that he showed to his actual mentor artist to make the film. You can see his real work at: www.ggallo.com. I still want to see the paintings by “Seroff.” They didn’t quite look like the gallos I saw on the web site. Who painted those?
There are a couple of really fun scenes in the film. When I saw the master artist behaving badly at the local art show in the trailer, my thought was, “what a jerk.” Interestingly, in the movie I was with him as he had to listen to pretentious art talk to validate art that involved no skill. And I loved the scene with the “abstract” oil paintings being praised by his art critic friend.
There’s a little too much pontificating in the film for me, but hey, there were some tidbits in there too. Anyway, a fun show for an artist, and for a non-artist, probably not so much.

CLOUDS AND CALM WATERS

The river is still and glassy beneath a quilt of clouds. I stand on the dock where it crosses the water, and paint first the sky, which changes subtlely, then the trees, with their quiet greens on this peaceful morning. A light breeze stirs the water. It is so quiet, I can hear ducks across the river, and the cheers of a crowd at a ball game at least a mile away. A few boaters come and go; otherwise Carol and I are alone with the river and the clouds.

I am running out of painting time. Wishing I could spend more time on the water, I quickly put down some color notes, intending to finish in the afternoon in my studio. But when I look at the painting in the studio, I see that I have been saved from overworking the water. I add a few brush strokes and leave the rest. A peaceful river morning.

COTTONWOOD ON THE BANK

Boat traffic is picking up. The shadows on the cottonwood across the cove make interesting patterns, down the tree and across the sand. I flick a brush mark across the end of the island to show the wavelet created by the boat wakes.

BEFORE THE BOATS COME

An hour before my class I am at the river, looking at the variety of things to paint. It’s the beginning of a sunny day, boat traffic is light, and the rich blue sky is reflecting nicely in the water. I don’t have much time, so I do a quick study of the colors on the water. It’s peaceful this early, even on a Saturday, but I know it won’t last.

WATER COLORS IN THE COVE

This is a lovely and relaxing spot. The pattern of waves on the water has light dancing all around the cove. It took a lot of energy to leave the house, but now I am happy to be here. Morning painting, my favorite time.

A mother duck is ferrying her brood around the quiet cove. The chicks are about two inches long, and still have yellow topknots. They stay as close to her as it is possible to be, perhaps hoping to look like a bit of her wake. Every time she turns, they shimmy up against her in a reforming wave.

Later in the morning there is other entertainment. A mom in a van drops off two boys around ten or eleven years old, along with a dingy and a cooler. The older one does all the inflating, and the rowing, taking first the cooler, then the younger boy to the beach across the inlet. The mom takes off, leaving them to adventure on their own. I am wondering whether I would have let my boys be unsupervised at the water at that age. About an hour later, two girls show up, giggling and bubbling around. The older boy comes and ferries them over. I wonder if the boys’ mom knows about the girls. I wonder if the girls’ mom(s) know about the boys.

Other boaters arrive, and put their boats in. Their weight rocks the dock where I’m standing. Wind picks up on the river, and I have to take down my umbrella. The wind rocks the pier. For some reason, this makes me happy. (I have spent many happy hours in boats.)

This is a great place to paint. I promise myself to come again. Often. Particularly in the morning.