Oystercatchers and Ice

I'm constantly conflicted, when I can steal some studio time, over whether to do studies for new paintings or to work on oils in progress. But the cold weather sometimes makes my decision easier, as the room I draw in is in my home, and my oil painting studio is in the cold garage. So even though I've divided the garage space in half with curtains to keep my little stove's meager heat from escaping, on really cold days I spare the propane and work on studies. These two are part of my developing series from my residency in Alaska. The top one is an Oystercatcher at Pakenham Point. I never got this close to them, but they would run ahead of me on the beach with a silly little giggle. Now I realize it was probably a nervous giggle, since they may have been trying to distract me from the eggs they may have had just sitting there in the rocks. Anyway, the Natural History Museum has a taxidermied eastern oystercatcher so I spent a few hours drawing him and he didn't move a muscle.

 

This one is an iceberg study, looking toward Surprise Glacier.

So studies are in the works, and I was very happy to have the chance to exhibit one of my few finished oils in the Newport Art Museum's Member's show (Up until May 19). And happy to win an honorable mention.

And even more happy in the placement of my piece, right smack as soon as you come in, under the color coordinated wall sign.  Thank you, NAM!

Oh entomology, where is thy sting?

So this is my first attempt at entomological illustration, and I think I'm hooked. I'm just debating on whether I should invest in a basic compound dissecting microscope. It's awfully tempting, since it would open up a whole new world of visual exploration. But on the other hand I can't keep up with what I can already see! I guess I'll try a few more specimens and see how it goes....

click for sharper version

This little study is one I did years ago, and even after my microscopic study of the hornet, I think it stands up pretty well. Well, not exactly stands, I didn't know the technique of relaxing and pinning the specimen back then, but he curls up nicely anyway...

I'm starting to organize the art team for this year's Bioblitz on Jamestown, where there will be tons of creepy crawly things to draw. Maybe I can bum some surplus bugs to bring home and draw. If not, my windowsill is a good place to find insects who have met their maker.

The girl who drew the hornet specimen

Just when I think I know what a hornet looks like, I get a look through a fancy compound microscope and a whole new world opens up. I get to see the level of detail that this hornet would have seen when he woke up and stumbled to the bathroom to face his 10x mirror. He probably bemoaned his scraggly antennas and sagging mandibles, but I think he's beautiful. Anyway, this is my drawing from my Entomological Illustration Class that I'm taking at RISD. Tomorrow I get to finish him in color. 

 

This class is so much fun that I wish I had tried to make a living doing scientific illustration. It seems a bit late now to try to make an inroad into what I'm sure is a very competitive field, but it would be fun to do a bit of freelance if I get any good.  My dad was an incredible jewelry renderer, back when catalogs were full of pen and ink and painted illustrations of tie tacs and earrings. (I'll post some of his work one of these days)  If I have near his talent in rendering bugs, I'll do alright...if the chip is off the old block, and they tell me it is.

Of course I'd have to learn about all the bug parts and their latin names, but that would be the fun of it. Just think how smart I'll sound, talking in a language no one understands. Sort of like explaining computer code. Now, if I can only get my hands on one of those microscopes.

A quick brown fox

This little fox looks so happy that you would think he was the one who's footprints I saw in the freshly fallen snow near my house. But, alas, his little mouth is frozen in a permanent smile in the Nature Lab at RISD. I sometimes see his brethren near the road as I make my way home. Always to quick and the light too dim to get a good look, so I appreciate a chance to study this fine specimen close up.

Like I mentioned, we got our first real snow last weekend, and I realized how much I missed it. I love the way it changes the familiar into something kind of magical. I also like that I get to wear my xtratufs again, not because they are so fashionable outside of Alaska and RI's little fishing towns, but because they remind me tromping over mud and rocks, hauling one end of a long kayak down to the shore of Harriman Fiord.



Speaking of Alaska, the Artist Residency program is starting to accept applications for 2012. I was happily surprised to go to one of my favorite blogs, Gurney Journey and see info about the application process, and a photo of me to illustrate it! I am honored to be the poster girl for this great program.

Deer legs

Lunch at the Nature Lab

I've been studying a lot lately—studies for paintings that is. Did you know that deer legs are not only very strange, but really hard to paint? I did these detail drawings to try to figure them out, so in theory I could just whisk them into my painting with a few quick strokes of the brush. Well, it's not working out quite that way. In fact the painting has more problems than deer legs...but I keep hoping I can pull it all together.

It always seems the paintings I work hardest and longest on end up rather awkward. I take consolation by telling myself that the troublemakers are the ones I learn the most from. But in all the years I've been painting, it seems like I've not learned all that much...I guess that's what keeps it interesting, if frustrating!

I'm enjoying collecting this menagerie though, and I'm going to add to it by going to draw from the specimens at the classes that are starting up again at the Museum of Natural History.

Here's some info from their website..... 

Adult Programs | Drawing from the Collections

The Museum and its collections come alive through art on Saturday mornings. Adults of all skill levels are welcome to participate. Classes are held on the listed Saturdays from 10:00am to 12:00pm. Explore fundamental drawing techniques in a unique setting, utilizing objects from the Museum’s vast collections. This focus of this drawing class is on learning to look. Class sizes are small, and registration is first come, first served. Special specimen requests must be made at least one week prior to date of class.

Winter 2012 Dates:

January 21, 2012

January 28, 2012

February 4, 2012

February 11, 2012

March 3, 2012

March 17, 2012

Click here for the registration form.

Program Fee per Session:

$15.00/$12.00 for Museum Members

Sign up for ANY two or more days:

$12.00 per day/$10.00 per day for Museum Members

Materials Not Provided. Pre-registration required.

Class sizes are small, and registration is first come, first served. For further information, contact the Museum Education Department at: (401) 785-9457 x247

Getting stuffed at lunch

Lunch at the RISD Nature Lab

Now that's it's getting a bit chilly outside (but not nearly as cold as it should be for January) I've resumed spending some lunch hours in the warm and cozy RISD Nature Lab. I had drawn this raccoon before (left) from a different angle, but this is the pose he is taking up in my latest painting (see the study below), so since I have the opportunity I thought I'd do a sketch from "life" instead of only relying on my photo.  It's a challenge though, with all that fur. So far I've spent two lunch hours on my drawing. One more should do it, I'll post it if it comes out decent.

That little fox is catching my eye too, he may have to be drawn soon.

Supermoon

 

Funny, in my two weeks of unexpected time off work with my knee surgery I somehow didn't have the urge to blog much. Was it the lack of coffee shop sitting? The possibility of doing things in three dimensions? Maybe, but I think the real reason was that I didn't find the need to toss out my little messages-in-a-bottle from my upholstered island of a cubicle. I was rowing my own humble boat, bad knee and all... Now I'm back, all too soon, and am scribbling another message by the light of buzzing fluorescents. 

The horseshoe crabs have finished their debauch, leaving the casualties belly up on the shore. I brought a recently expired one back to my house, but not before putting it in the water for a bit and pulling on its legs to make sure it was really dead. I set it up on a low table in my backyard (a dead horseshoe crab is not something that you want indoors) and started a drawing of it. A storm was coming up so I left it to finish the next day but when I went out to finish it, it was gone. After a short search I found it under a bush, legs eaten off. According to google, both raccoons and fox eat horseshoe crabs, and we have both. My husband was kind enough to fetch another one for me, but the drawing never really amounted to much. Hopefully the studying of HC anatomy will help when one inevitably appears in a painting.

It was only at the end of my leave that I could stand for a decent amount of time, but I did manage to finish this painting. It's called Supermoon. Tomorrow I'm off for my second Bioblitz, this time I'm in charge of the art team. Should be interesting (and hopefully not as rainy as last year!)

First cup of coffee

What a luxury to have my first cup of coffee on my own porch with a book on a summery day off.  Sometimes I feel I don't deserve this beautiful porch, which was one of the things that sold me on this house right away, but I can't say I'm not enjoying spending more time here, even if it's with an ice pack on my troublesome knee.

My crutches were ditched days ago, but the most annoying thing about my post-operative recovery is that after standing for long at the easel I am shocked to find my  knee will no longer bend. So I am forced to sit and ice, and wonder what the heck they did inside that knee while I was knocked out cold.

What I can't seem to do is sit and paint.  No sooner than I perch on the stool than I have to step back or over to my palette, or ten feet away, or up on the little step-stool to reach the top of the painting. I can't even draw sitting unless it's a small one or I'm outside without my easel. So I guess I had better stay in good shape to be able to stay in the sport . . .

I did take my first walk yesterday though, after hearing about scandalous behavior down on the beach. Of course I had to see it, so took the 2 block walk to photograph horseshoe crabs in flagrante delicto. Turns out it was a rather dull affair, despite the orgy-like behavior of most of them. It looked like a barge loaded with surplus army helmets overturned, washing bunches ashore to overlap at the tide line. But activity was probably a lot more exciting beneath the shells, as I found half a dozen of the little guys tossed onto their backs as a result of their passion.  Now here was some good photo material! Flailing claws! But I was kind enough to flip them back over once I had my way with them. Don't be surprised if they turn up in a painting, once I get my easel legs back again.

By the way, the book I'm reading is the life of Louisa May Alcott. If all you know about her is from reading "Little Women" you should check out her life story, she was an amazing person!

Here I sit, broken and rejected.

Ok...repaired and rejected. My torn menicus (go ahead, ask me about knee anatomy) has been neatened up and my knee should be unwrapped and crutches tossed aside soon, but I'm still not going to Juneau Alaska this year to climb glaciers and hang out with the rangers as artist in residence. I know, I've already got the AIR in Petrified National Forest this September, but now I'm getting greedy and want TWO residencies a year. And the Tongass National Forest residency sounded really awesome.

But there's always next year to try again, and my rejection letter was one of the more thoughtful ones I've received. It actually referred specifically to my application, which feels better than the generic rejections that tell "Dear  artist " how tough the decision was and how many wonderful artists applied. So I will try again, even though I already have an application in for 2012 at Grand Canyon National Park. But I can do two a year, can't I?


So, I can concentrate on looking forward to the incredible color and cool rock formations of the Painted Desert even though September seems so far away. As any New Englander knows though, our precious summer goes by in a flash, and while I wait to go to Arizona I'm gearing up for a more local exploration at the Rhode Island Natural History Survey's Bioblitz. We've got a great response from artists of all media, and are teaming up with RISD's nature lab to offer things like microscopes and flower presses just for the artists, as well as expertise in specimen gathering. We also have some members of RISDs natural science illustration program, so it should be very interesting to meet this year's team. And next year we have an exhibit scheduled at the Warwick Art Museum to showcase the work of the 2011 Bioblitz artists. 

Once I can stand at my easel again I'm close to finishing some paintings I've been working on in the studio as part of my next series which I hope to post soon. Until then, I may just hobble into my backyard to take advantage of the first dry spring day we've had in about 2 weeks and do a little "plane ear" painting.

A good day for frogs.

 

Frogs-in-progress caught during last summer's Bioblitz.

There's gold in them thar hills

 

Here's my latest study for my new series. The setting is an old gold mine I found in the Sangre de Cristo mountains during my artist residency in the Great Sand Dunes in Colorado.  Didn't see any raccoons out there, but they'd no doubt like to explore if they could.

I'm in the process of gathering info to apply for another national park artist residency for this summer or fall. There are some good ones out there, but they are not especially well publicized. That helps my chances I guess so I don't mind doing some digging.

The gold mine study was done on a piece of flocked black paper and pastels that I inherited from the studio of Louise Marianetti. I hadn't worked on flocked paper before and am not sure the softness suits my work. It might be nice for portraits though, which is probably why she liked it.

A seascape, hold the peanut sauce.

Recently I went to the opening of the Alumni Show at UMass Dartmouth in which I'm exhibiting a piece.  I have to say, Swain and UMass graduated some great painters. It's just so nice to see a show with work that speaks for itself, without the need for headphones on the wall next to it. Afterwards some congenial friends and I repaired to a Thai restaurant where one of my friends pulled out a painting she won on ebay that, as good as the other ones were, was even better.  It was the painting featured in The Art of Painting 4 - The Seascape, Spicy.  What made it even more special was that we knew that the underpainting was The Art of Painting 3 -Nude Sleeping Angel Thomas Kinkade.  As we were admiring it the food arrived and I watched in horror, as if in slow motion, as the plate of Thai Pork with Peanut Sauce tilted in the waitress's hand, and the aforementioned Peanut Sauce poured onto the painting! But somehow I think Lily would have just rolled with it. A few quick wipes with a napkin and it was as good as new, maybe a little more spicy.

The next night I went an opening at the Newport Art Museum which was so packed with the Newport art crowd so it was hard to see the work. Eventually everyone crowded into one room to hear the announcement of the prizes, some which get you awarded show at the museum. As the prizes in painting dwindled away my remaining long-shot hope was Best of Show. Finally they announced it...."The best of show award goes to Kat—" That was it, just Kat. Oh well, you can't win them all!

Here are some of the studies I've been working on for my next series, then I'm off to draw another angle of the raccoon in all his taxidermied splendor.

A quick brown fox

 

I'm so lucky to be able to walk to the RISD Nature Lab at lunch for a walk on the wild side. The hard part is tearing myself away to report back to my cubicle.

Lunch with the coyote

 

I was going to draw the raccoon today, but the coyote was still where I left him, and I just couldn't resist.