My class and I meet up at White River. The parking lot is like a heat radiator, warming us from the feet up. We have been studying the multiple colors of white, so we have come here to observe them. Because it’s so near noon, the variations are subtle, and there are no real shadows. Not the best time to paint, but we’re here now, so...
A crow or raven flies over with the same whish whish I heard yesterday. This time I am not expecting a condor. We also hear varied thrush calling. I missed them in West Linn this year.
My whites are nearly done. I look the painting over. I am tempted to lighten them, they seem to have so much color, but I know that when I get the painting indoors the yellow will be less intense. I bring it in, and sure enough, the yellows are just about right. Compensating for color change in different lighting conditions is still difficult.
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