Landscape and Misc.

Since the first aspen painting in this series was a horizontal presentation, I decided to do a vertical presentation with this painting. On this painting, I masked the aspen trees and painted in the the background folliage and the foreground grass/brush. Finally, I painted the tree slowly adding washes to build form and texture the trees.

Over the years, I've spent a lot of time in the Colorado mountains, hiking, camping, and fishing. It doesn't take long for the Aspen tree to attract your attention. Their light color against the forest green seems to reach out and grab your attention. I could probably spend the next few years with Aspen paintings, and never get close to what I feel when I see a lush stand of Aspen on a mountain side. Yet, the Aspen forests are more important than just painting subjects. They are the first trees to grow in a burned out area. Each fall they shed their leaves and make the soil fertile. Those soils nourish small plants which, in turn, provide forage to many animals. They are special--in fact, the largest living thing in the world is an Aspen grove in the Wasatch Mountains of Utah, with a recorded 41,000 trees off of one root stock! Pretty amazing!

This summer (2003) I was in western Colorado for a week of fly fishing. My camp was about two miles from the river, and the drive took me up over a butte that was covered with pear cactus. Every day I drove by and looked at that cactus, each time thinking what great painting subjects. During one of those trips I took a series photos that lead to this painting.

This last summer (2001) saw me off on the annual fly-fishing trip with my sons and nephew. I'm probably not as dedicated about the fishing as I should be. For some reason, I spend a lot of time looking at the scenery--comtemplating future paintings. This particular painting gave me another shot at rushing water, and I think I'm still searching a bit. The water wasn't terrible and generally feels right, but it wasn't what I was looking for. Fortunately, I have many more years to practice.

When I started this watercolor journey some 25 odd years ago, my first guide in the way of a book was "Ways With Watercolor," by Ted Kautzky. The book is now out of print. Kautzky could paint--and even though his subjects ranged all over the place, his seascapes always struck me as something extraordinary. Last summer, I got a chance to travel to the Oregon coast, and took a number of photos for paintings. This painting is a collage of all the photos I took--and everything I read from Kautzky over the last 25 years about surf--seascape paintings.

It is now the Fall of 2000, and I have set for myself the goal of painting a credible mountain stream by the Spring. Water has always intrigued me--whether it is moving or still, and it has a nature that is captured best with the watercolor medium. This particular effort seems a step in the right direction, but I think I should have build more white water into the composition.

Having grown up in Colorado where there are 52 peaks over 14,000 feet, and mountain streams galore, it feels like they are in my blood. I've not really worked with this subject matter much, but it has been on my mind over the years. I think this next winter will be dedicated to more of these paintings.

I kind of get caught up with specific things in my paintings--cars, trucks, tennis shoes. I've been on that jag for a few months now, and needed to get away from the specific. My friend Millie Carree who has a web page (Oshoto Arts) where she has a gallery and hosts images for other artists, among other things, had an image from her grandparents' homestead and allowed me to use the image for painting. It was just what I was looking for--something more general.

This is from a photo taken in the San Juan Mountain range of Colorado. If you have never been there, you ought to put that on your agenda for something to do in your life time. I suggest a trip during the fall when the aspens and oak brush are changing colors--avoid the winter. I can never do just to these scenic vistas, but I keep trying.

I like old junkyards--some nice geometric things--square corners and structure. Flowers, on the other hand are wild, round, and filled with subtle value and color. They are not my strong suit--that is for sure. I do a few flower paintings every year, just to keep myself humble. When I go to watercolor shows and see all those cool flower paintings, I'm in awe. Maybe one of these days I will do a flower painting that is worth something.

I take a week every summer to go camping and fishing with my brother. We usually head for western Colorado--that is where we grew up. Besides the fishing, I always take time to hike around the immediate area, camera in hand. This painting is from a photo I took near Buckhorn Lake in the San Juan Mountains. If you have never visited southwest Colorado and the San Juan Mountains, you need to put that on your agenda. You won't regret it.

Who knows what will make a good painting? One Fall, I was looking out the back window at my garden. There had been a slight snow fall the previous evening, and the cabbage in the snow got my attention. I went out and took several photos. This is the result.

I've spent many hours on mountain roads in the mountains of western Colorado. I can't say this painting is of any particular road, it is just dredged out of my memories. It is funny about memories--they come and go, but the things you experience when young seem so fresh and meaningful. This particular road could be one that I traveled down with my parents on the way to fish or hunt. We fished on Grand Mesa--north of Delta, Colorado and we hunted to the southwest--the Uncompagrhe Plateau. It was a wonderful time in my life.

This painting was completed as an exercise with several other watercolor artists. The theme for the painting was glass or crystal. As artists, we need to stretch ourselves--push beyond that which we find comfortable. If involves a bit of failure--but there is growth in the process.

This bike was sitting in one of my favorite junkyards. I don't think I did the whole thing justice and have this feeling, I need another try at this subject. I have the painting in my livingroom and as I walk by it on a daily basis, I see new and different things that can be improved. It's time is coming.