Betatakin

On Monday, my little girls and I went to town to buy some baling wire for our garden fence. The store, rural as it is, was out and said to come back in the afternoon. Hmmm. Not wanting to waste an hour of driving, I decided to go exploring. We ended up in Betatakin at the Navajo National Monument, where nestled at the base of deep canyons are some ruins of an ancient Anasazi apartment complex. I didn't think my toddlers were up for the 8 mile hike to the bottom, and as we got there, they both fell asleep in the car. So naturally it was a good time to step out and paint for a couple of hours. And... I just happened to have an easel and paints and thinner and some spare panels with me. ;) One of my favorite things about painting outside is getting to meet all of the people who stop alongside the road to see what you're doing. On Monday I got to meet people from Sasketchewan, China, Indonesia I think, Texas, and some local coal mine workers. It's always fun to hear people's stories and make connections.

North Slope

Here's a plein air study from last week. This study was one of those where, when you're painting, you completely lose track of what's going on around you and get caught up in the scene. It leaves you with this feeling of being spiritually and emotionally well-rested and rejuvenated, while physically and mentally exhausted at the same time. I can't wait to get back out and do it again. :)

A Painter's Progress in the Wilderness

I painted this fun little guy in about an hour.  My great uncle John stopped his truck to ask what I was painting when he couldn't see anything but the slash pile. I showed him the painting and he asked, "What are you going to call it?"
"I don't know... hmm. Slash Pile." He squinted and sat back.
"I was thinking something more like, Man's Progress in the Wilderness." I laughed and said I thought he should name all of my paintings. It's funny how something very ordinary or even ugly seems important to people if there's a painting of it. I guess even Mao Zedong knew that.

Home Again

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From the top of the big meadow on the Oftedahl Ranch, I painted this familiar scene. A doe wandered around through my Dad’s log decks behind me, inching closer and closer out of curiosity. Finally she came right up onto the hill in front of my easel, and pawed at the ground, challenging my right to paint there. I wondered how I would describe the sound a deer makes. I think I’d say it’s a cross between the word “shoo” and “chew,” whispered as loudly as possible. There’s never any end to the distractions when you’re painting, pleasant as they may be. But at least I have a supportive husband who takes turns with the kids and lets me go paint and talk to deer. 

Great Grandpa’s Garages

When I was a kid, I spent a whole summer in these sheds catching rabbits with my sisters and cousins, and  they provided a maze of good hiding places for the rabbits. Dusty, greasy, full of rusty iron tools and filthy old tires… Great grandpa filled them up with his treasures. But that's not why I painted them. I painted them because as Harvey Dunn says it, they “reflect... the glorious light of heaven.” 

 

James at Work

James found this nice little runoff spot and did a vertical piece that I think turned out great. Eden (our 2-year old) wanted to hang out with her dad while he worked.

Storing Paint for Plein Air Painting

It drives James nuts how fast the oil paint dries out in a Soltek easel (since it's not airtight), and what really gets to me is how it all slides down to one side of the palette when you're hiking if any of the pigments have some extra oil in them, so when you open it you get this big mess of paint soup to deal with. So... my latest attempt to solve this problem has worked out quite nicely so far: Airtight pillboxes.

I just set this, open, between my palette and painting on the Soltek when I'm working and scoop paint out as I need it. No need to put piles of every color on the palette, and that way there's more room to mix paint. I'm liking this a lot.

Paint Camp Week One: Barretts, MT

We weren't really sure where we'd camp that night, but the first day on the road landed us in this gorgeous spot on the Beaverhead river. We were grateful to find a free campsite, a fire pit, an old fashioned hand pump with clean well water, and a few friendly neighbors. So we set up camp and stayed here for a week. With plenty of organizing and logistical problems still to solve, painting time this week was less than the place deserved, but still gratifying. James and I have long faced the problem of how we can both paint with two little kids without neglecting them. Here it's an easy fix... one of us paints while the other plays with the kids. :) One week he paints mornings and I paint afternoons, and then the next week we switch. The awesome thing about painting all week in the same location is that you can do a finished (and even large) painting without being rushed so long as you get several days of similar weather throughout the week. I did one painting multiple days from 8:00- 10:00, and then another (multiple days) from 10:00- 12:00 of a different scene. That way I didn't get frustrated with the changing lighting since I'm not that fast yet. It's working great so far.

Breaking in a new Dutch Oven

Breakfast with Daddy

The best ready-made composition was from right in our campsite. :)

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