On day #2 in Georgia, we gathered at a former plantation to begin painting with Laurel. There were 7 students, from Texas, Georgia, Florida, Mississippi, Oklahoma, and Central California. (Yep, I think of Central California as a separate place from the rest of the state.)
The Hofwyl-Broadfield Plantation is a State Historic Site, where rice was grown, and then after Emancipation, the “enterprising siblings of the fifth generation. . . resolved to start a dairy rather than sell their family home”. (Taken from the official handout at the park).
We wandered around doing sketches to get the feel of how to start, and then Laurel demonstrated for us. We followed her lead one step at a time while she circulated among us, offering tips, helps and suggestions for improving our paintings. The most important thing seemed to be setting up in the shade! Yup, humid and buggy, although I was never aware of getting bitten until I was scratching like a mangy dog at bites I didn’t know had happened.
We drove back on a closed road to the main plantation house area.
What is this cool little building?! Oh. It is the bathrooms. The white stuff at the base is old oyster shells – go figure.
Look at those oaks! Look at that house!
Look at that moss!
Weird cluster of short palms was a common site, ‘though not as common as the sprawling oaks.
The marsh is out there. I wonder if the rice was planted in the marsh. My new friend Cathy is in the foreground, doing her sketches.
Oh wow, I want to see inside the house and inside the buildings and know what they were all used for. And what a dramatic sky!
The oaks were stunning.
This is Laurel’s set-up for plein air painting. She is very efficient and paints “all the time”, in her words. One of the many reasons I chose her for my instructor is that she also works from the double primary palette: 2 blues, 2 yellows, 2 reds and white.
She showed and explained.
We copied. This is my borrowed beast of a french easel with wobbly legs.
Hmmm, this is an ugly beginning, but all of my oil paintings begin ugly so I was not alarmed.
We paused for lunch under the oaks. (There’s my red backpack at the base of my beast of an easel. Trail Guy gave it to me for Christmas in 1986.)
Cathy from Georgia, with Bill from Georgia in the background.
Peggy from Texas
Judy from Oklahoma
You can see we are all painting the same scene, which is in front of us, but simplified and refined by Laurel. Real life is too full for a little 2-D canvas, particularly in this style of simplified shapes.
That’s all for this painting. Weird for me, but it measured up just fine to Laurel’s and the other participants.
Meanwhile, back at home, Scout and her kitties were just fine.
This was a long post. Tomorrow I’ll show you what I saw after the painting session was finished.
Now that I have a little distance from my trip to Georgia, I am beginning to sort out all I saw and experienced and learned. In retrospect, everything seemed fancy to this Central California artist/bumpkin. I don’t get out much, other than an occasional Alaskan cruise (2013) or a trip to Israel (2016).
I rented a car in Florida. Florida?? Yeppers. Never been there before. Lots of thoughts about new “economy” cars, which are far to fancy for my liking, and my left foot kept flailing around, seeking the clutch. Never did master the radio.
This lovely 1937 home is where I stayed with my new friends, who now feel like family. It wasn’t fancy, but it was simply gorgeous and gorgeously simple.
I sat under this giant mossy oak to wait for someone to come home after I locked myself out of their house, because I didn’t understand the fancy little gizmo on the door or how to get through the fancy automatic gate on foot.
Brunswick City Hall. WOWSA. See? fancy!
The main street of Brunswick is very well preserved and landscaped.
Ever seen a green lizard? It is called an anole, “uh- NO-lee”. (Our lizards are fancy too, if you flip them over and see their blue bellies.)
This isn’t fancy, but it is impressive, on the campus of the fifth oldest high school in the country. The name is fancy: Glynn Academy. “Academy”? Yeppers.
This simple window felt almost familiar and friendly after all the other visual excitement.
All of this was my first afternoon in Georgia, before the plein air painting workshop began. There was a brilliantly designed fancy bridge, but I was driving an unfamiliar fancy car with an unfamiliar fancy phone/camera and didn’t dare try my usual drive-by-shooting-by-feel approach.
To be continued. . . tomorrow we begin painting plein air. Because I am back on my laptop, I can size the photos correctly, keep them upright, and type like a full-fingered humanoid.
We painted today on a huge private estate that belongs to heirs of the Reynolds family, which was fabulous. It was also kind of muggy, but we were brave plein air warriors.
This time we were on our own to choose painting sites, one in the morning and a second site in the afternoon. Laurel patrolled, offering help throughout the day.
No one roughs it here.
I stood under this pergola to paint. Shade was a requirement.
This scene was my task.
In progress (maybe I will show you the ugly steps down the road but not tonight)
Oh no, she fell over again while critiquing my painting,
The finished painting
My next choice
Now what have I done to my blog?? Sigh.
The beginning
Here is the finished painting, I am too tired to continue with this one finger typing and bloggery misbehavior.
Both of these paintings were rectangular, not square, but I am quite inept at blogging on this little device–the normal controls aren’t showing up.
Tomorrow is the third and final day so we will continue next week.
Travel is full of challenges. The current one is having locked myself out of my friend’s house. This gives me the opportunity to try posting to my blog from a small handheld device that I am reluctantly learning to use.
Pretty place, eh?
I went walking downtown and I am loving the architecture and landscaping.
I’m sitting beneath this massive oak tree with moss hanging from the branches. It’s a nice place to wait.
This is the high school. I think my friend said it is the fifth oldest school in the entire country.
This building is not sideways. It is my ineptness with new technology.
It seems to me that there is a church on every other corner here. It also seems that there is a siren every hour. Maybe this is normal for a city.
Today I am in route to Florida, unable to post, so here is something that happened on Saturday. Mineral King is a summer place, but occasionally we visit in winter. (I probably won’t be able to post tomorrow either, so we’ll just have to bravely soldier on for a bit.)
The flowers were fantabulous along the lower portion of the road, but we didn’t stop for photos except at the bridge. It takes a long time to pull the Trackster up the road with the Botmobile, and it takes a long time to putt-putt up the road in the Trackster, so we did not lollygag.
The Trackster ride is rough, loud and smelly. But, it beats a snowmobile, particularly when you have to go up and over downed trees or across dry pavement. (You know the ride is rough when it makes the Botmobile feel luxurious by contrast.)
Our friends were already up the hill, and it was great fun to surprise them. Trail Guy and I did a bit of token cross-country skiing. Mostly we were just in awe of the vast winterness of the place.
Cute little snow buggy called a Trackster, made by Cushman. The goal is to drive as far up as possible and unload in a place that can accommodate a turn-around.
I didn’t photograph any of the trees we had to crawl over. It was nerve-wracking, and several times I just bailed out of the Trackster and climbed over on foot.
First view of Sawtooth
First view of our friends
They dug steps down to their cabin door.
The classic view
This is our cabin from the front.
Timber Gap in the background
You can see how deep the snow is on the bridge.
I love this view at the top of Endurance Grade. This was looking backward as we headed back down.
On the way down, we stopped for the most brilliant redbud we have ever seen. It is just below the most dangerous curve on the road, AKA Steven’s corner, because our friend Steven drove over the edge there as a teenager. His worst injury was poison oak!
Leaving for a trip involves lots of preparations. Whether or not there are specific deadlines, there is a need to finish things. This is mostly due to not knowing what else will be stacked up when I return.
Besides, if I am learning to paint plein air, maybe I’d better finish all my working-from-photos-in-the-studio paintings because what if I hate them all when I get home?
These paintings have been varnished and are drying.
These paintings are all that remain to be finished in the big goal of 32 new paintings.
These are actually finished now, but I didn’t photograph them in their final state for you.
Scout is waiting for me and I am waiting for our grandkitties.
This one is finished now, and very very wet. Will I hate it when I return because I will be completely sold out to plein air painting?
SCOUT HAD 3 LITTLE TABBIES and 2 GINGERS! THEY ARRIVED ON THE MORNING OF APRIL 5. 2 TABBIES HAVE TAILS, THE REST DO NOT.
This is the small stash of some supplies I for the workshop. The rest have been ordered and now I need to learn to pack them correctly. We have been also instructed to bring a few photos in case it rains so we can paint indoors. See? Studio painting is okay! Take that, you Plein Air Snobs (one of which I hope to NOT become)
To top it off, I discovered that I thought I had mailed 5 Mineral King Wildflowers: Common Names but I didn’t actually send them. What a goof. I am sorry, and you know who you all are because I emailed you and then sent you your delayed orders.
And, FINALLY, my business phone is working again. I wonder how many missed calls; there was no voice mail the past 4 weeks, so I’ll never know. The number remains the same as the previous 17 years. (It is on my contact page.)
I might need a secretary. Or a nap. Or some calming knitting.
I read about St. Simons Island, love the beach, learned that an artist needs to paint plein air, “met” an artist who teaches plein air on St. Simons Island, and met a real person who lives there.
Poppies at the Beach, pencil and colored pencil, private collection.
The real person invited me to stay with her and her family at their home by St. Simons Island.
So, I am going next week. Flying to Jacksonville, Florida, driving to Brunswick, Georgia to stay with my friend’s cousins, meeting Laurel Daniel in person, and joining a three day class on St. Simons Island to learn to paint plein air.
This is Uh-May-Zing. Truly.
Normally I NEVER say that I am going away before I go, because this is the World Wide Web. This time is different. Trail Guy will be home with Scout when she produces our grandkitties and is taking that duty very seriously.
Who knows what sort of stories I will tell you next week? Time will tell if I will be able to post to my blog in real time the experience of being on St. Simons Island, meeting Laurel, learning to paint plein air. If I go silent next week, just figure that I am completely in the moment.
Yesterday I promised to show you the hike my walking buddy T and I took one morning instead of our usual ground-pounding fast walk. (This qualifies as a hike because we carried food and water.) We drove about 10 minutes into Sequoia National Park, a little ways past the entrance station in order to walk to Shepherd Saddle.
This was our view when we started around 8:30. Sure felt casual compared to our normal meeting time of 6:00.
We were expecting rain and wanted to test our new parkas, but Sycamore Creek was the only water we saw besides some puddles and a few water troughs for the stock.
Now here is a peculiar sight. Have you ever seen a horse with a perm?
The clouds obstructed most views of the mountains except for a tiny piece poking out.
The manzanita were almost the only flowers we saw.
The clouds were beautiful looking down the canyon.
And here we are, at the gate on Shepherd’s Saddle. We are on National Park land; the other side is a mystery as to ownership.
T gave me a tangerine, and it was so pretty I photographed it before peeling it. We left the emergency M&Ms unopened – please be impressed.
Going home was much quicker. Duh. It was all downhill.
Sycamore Creek already?
We wondered if it had more water flowing on the way back down, but didn’t pursue the question.
Okay, Central California artist, get to your easel and start painting.
Memorial service for The Cowboy Bert Raymond Weldon, May 21, 1956 — January 8, 2019 CELEBRATION OF LIFE AND RECEPTION Friday, March 15, 2019, 11:00 a.m. CrossCity Christian Church, 2777 E. Nees Avenue, Fresno, California 93720
Trail Guy and I took another field trip. If I call it that, then it sounds as if I am working. I am always working if I hand out a business card or take a photo that might be worth painting.
View upcanyon from Slick Rock area at Kaweah Lake.
Alta Peak is the highest one; Moro Rock is the granite monolith just above the green hills on the left; the spots in the sky are my signature photo look.
Mustard is usually the first wildflower in the foothills, blooming in early February like clockwork (if we’ve had rain).
Walking in the lake bottom means getting cockleburrs in ones shoelaces.
With the recent rains, the lake is filling up, so we walked up to the Horse Creek Bridge, since our normal route is underwater now.
The pillars are huge up close and would be fun to paint, maybe like the trunks of redwood trees. I wonder how mural paint holds up underwater. . .
On the other side of the bridge is the abutment of a small old bridge. No dates visible, and only a vague idea of its purpose (besides the obvious one of crossing Horse Creek).
Looking back at the bridge. I’ve never seen it from this side before.
What a peculiar sight and strange find –an oyster shell! Were the squirrels planning on using it as a trap door? Did if fall from someone’s boat?
