18th century cider mill dam in Harvard Forest, Massachusetts.
One sees the prairie in layers: sky, grass, soil. And then there’s the forest, constructed from tall, thin strips: tree stems, stacked stones, waterfalls, a slice of sky at the top. One set of laminations lays out flat, the other stands on end.
The drawing, made while standing on the mossy bank just downstream. Graphite and pastel on 22″ x 15″ Rives BFK tan paper.
It’s a nice theme and a way to re-imagine a few of the plein air drawings from Harvard Forest : as tall thin sections sliced out of the originals (in Photoshop) and enlarged in paint. Into each goes a tiny wood warbler from sketchbooks of the same period and place. American redstart, ovenbird, northern waterthrush, chestnut sided warblers.
Preparing panels of Baltic birch with buff titanium gesso, 4 coats, sanded between. A fine dust of powdered gesso has settled throughout my new studio. New studio. Has this been previously mentioned?
Three up, ready for a sealer of matte medium.
Early 19th century malt mill with American redstart. The first round of color is wash over pencil, burnt umber with ultramarine acrylic and a little glazing liquid mixed in. Big wide short-handled brush. Fun and fast. 20″ x 48″ Baltic birch cradled wood panel.
And in the process, an interesting thing happens. Each painting recalls, for better or worse, thoughts, moods, and whatever was playing in my ears when I drew them in in the first place (podcasts, audio books, the annoyingly redundant song of an American redstart). Moving the pencil over the exact pathways of the original lines unleashes some vivid flashbacks. Do you also experience art-triggered sense memories? Is there a neurologist in the house?
Happy Friday.
