A Frustrating Time in the Studio

Snowy Ridge Trail, 9 1/2 x 15 3/4 pastel painting

January 30: An hour and fifteen minutes in the studio and I’m close to tears. I feel sick to my stomach. And I was excited at maybe getting close to finishing.

First, I pulled up Corey’s original photo and noticed the blue of the mountains was more of a blue-black. It’s funny how I can work and work, then I’ll re-look at one of the other photos and see something different in the scene. So I dug out a darker blue pastel and went to work redefining the mountaintops and and slopes . The color is better, but with all the other layers, everything was smudging and the dust was making a mess. It was worse when I tried to add to the fog.

I kept thinking I should just give up and start all over, but I kept working. It’d probably be better if I started anew, but I’ve spent so much time on this, I hate to just give up.

I ended up wiping off most of the pastel in the middle, between the top of the closest mountain and the ridge and between two of the trees. Then I put in new foggy areas, the mountain colors and shading... but the area between the smaller trees blended into more of a gray, and I couldn’t keep the correct blue color.

I worked other fog, too, but much of it smeared and got muddy. It turns more blue when I’d rather it be gray/white with a touch of purple. I smudged some areas, then added back detail. I was getting so frustrated.

Three times I got up to call it quits. Three times I sat back down and went at it again. I added back in four of the middle trees. The hardest part with the trees are the evergreen needles, trying to get them over the layers of the background/fog. I was mostly using an extra soft charcoal pencil.

I worked the big pine trees on the left better defining them. These are difficult because the two trees run together and it’s hard to tell in some places which branches go to what tree.

I’m totally at a loss. All the excess pastel falling off sticks everywhere, all over the painting, all over everything, including me.

I finally walked away. Maybe I’ll start a new painting and let this one sit for awhile. Except this one has been on the easel long enough. I so want to get this right. It’s a beautiful, intriguing scene.

And yet again, from a distance it looks OK, and even this progress photo looks promising.

Do I Give Up and Start Over?

"Snowy Ridge Trail," 9 1/2 x 15 3/4 pastel painting

Original photo reference courtesy: Corey Sheehan 

January 29: Half hour in the studio working on this. Part of me wants to give up, but I keep pushing along. Too many layers. I can’t make the sharp lines I want to make. I tried various pastels.

I worked the trees more. The colors I want to use are too hard to go over the softer layers. I resorted to soft pastels in other shades of green.

In the end, I got out black in different pastel brands and a charcoal pencil.

I was so tempted to quit and considered doing the entire thing all over, but I kept working at it. When I got too frustrated and got up to walk away, I realized it doesn’t look so bad once I stepped back a couple feet.

I am making progress. I'm still debating taking half to an inch off the bottom to shorten the height.

Old Writings and the Grief of Loneliness

I've been going through my old poems and writings about my life. I've written some good stuff and I want to share the words. Even after all these years, there are things to learn. I pull aspects from the past to help me recognize how far I've come and to, perhaps, mold tomorrow. 

The Creative Muses, the writing muse and the painting muse, are having a tug of war with me. Something pulls at me and I'm not sure which way to turn, which to work on, but something needs to happen with this life work.

Here is something I wrote after the last lover I ever had left me:

"Twenty Hours into the Grief"

The moon shines through my window like a huge streetlamp. Full, the rays spread out over the land, and if it were warmer, it would be a good night to dance naked.

I can’t, though. Not tonight. Not when my heart is aching, and I am feeling such a loss. Not when my soul suffers the fresh scars of emptiness and abandonment. The lure of the moonlight is only a tease of what could have been.

She reaches for me. She wants to hold me, envelop me until I am well. She wants to tell me that I am finally free; free to be me, free to do what I want.

But for now, the grief is too heavy. Her arms are not real arms, not warm arms, not human arms. Her arms are not the solid arms that once held me tight and made me feel safe and loved.

How can I possibly think of freedom when I am feeling terribly alone? I want to be held, but there is no one to “snuggy” me. I am alone in this big king-size bed feeling the loss. I can still smell his scent on the other pillow. Part of me feels numb, empty. Grief feels frozen on my skin.

There were things I loved about him besides the “snugginess.” He’d pat me like a cat until I practically purred. He played with my hair with a comforting touch.

He had his own special names for me. I don’t think he ever called me by my real name. When we were first together, he called me, “Girly,” until the other guys at work did so, too. When we were alone, he called me, “Tit-kit-pussy” and “Woofie.” Most of the time, he called me, “Poffie” (his spelling for it although he pronounced it “Poofie.”) It was kind of endearing the way he’d say these names. Sometimes he called me “Piglet” or “Pig-head.” He didn’t use his demeaning voice, but I wasn’t too fond of these latter two names.

I wonder what he calls his new love. I hope he uses new names for her.

Later tonight, the moon will pass over the house as I lie in bed. I’ll be able to see Her light through the skylight. She will remind me of things I am when I cannot sleep during these long dark hours. And although I will not fully listen, I am glad She is here.

I don’t want to think because to think is to feel and be lonely. Instead, I just might float on endless moonbeams hoping to get lost – but knowing I won’t. Perhaps, for now, floating in oblivion would be a good thing.

For over 20 years, my weekends and vacations were devoted to him. It feels strange not to have that to look forward to anymore. What will weekends mean to me now? What will I do for vacations? It feels strange. What do I have to look forward to?

I have always wanted to hike, but he never wanted to. This could be my year for hiking.

There are all the art projects sitting in various stages of work in progress and ideas never put into reality. Maybe I can be the artist I always wanted to be.

I will let myself dream on the moonbeams and forget this loss. I am glad he moved on. Now I can, too.

Getting Closer to the Finish

 “Snowy Ridge Trail,” 9 ½ x 15 ¾ pastel painting. Original photo reference courtesy Corey Sheehan.

January 25: Two stints in the studio today. Work continues on refining details and adding more to the scene. One of my problems is putting in too many layers too soon. Then it’s harder to add details.

Today I also experimented with using more pink. Part of me is almost wanting to start over.

The second time in the studio, I added more to the trees and played around with even more color on the ridge and trying to better define the shape. 

Then while editing the progress photo, I wondered about cropping a bit off the lower portion. 

I’ll have to look at the actual painting and move the tape up to see if I really like the cropped version better. It brings the mountains closer and I’m wondering if I need to blur/soften the distant ones… except the photo isn’t blurred.

A Challenging Section

Snowy Ridge Trail, 9 1/2 x 15 3/4 pastel painting

January 21: While doing some morning work, I opened photos and again cropped a section of the original photo to better see what was going on with the pine trees. I studied it as it seems the bigger tree, which has had part of it broken off, still had part of the trunk extending upward and twisting. It’s hard to see because there’s a lot of pine branches and needles covering that area. I did some little sketches on a scrap piece of paper and in my journal.

Forty-five minutes in the studio had me again adding to the sky, attempting to improve the mist and mountain textures, but my intent was to fix how I saw the closest tree on the left side. However, that not only turned into working on the tree, but also working the shape of the ridge again. It’s a tricky section to get right. I’ve been fighting with this since day one and it’s still not right.

Another Attempt at Getting it Right

“Snowy Ridge Trail,” 9 ½ x 15 ¾ pastel painting on BFK Rives paper using charcoal pencil and various pastels

January 20: Over an hour in the studio on the first go ‘round. Pele came in at first, then Leo came in and laid on the floor beside me. I moved the painting to the standup easel and taped it upside down and wiped off the sky… as much as would come off. Then I moved it back to the DT easel and went at it again. Oh, no. I liked the other better! Oh, well.

I worked the mountains trying to get the shadowing right and the mist smooth. I even used a small makeup sponge to try to make better lines and textures. I tried and tried and wasn’t happy. I played with the sky some more, did some reshaping.

I used Yarka black along the ridge lines because the blues aren’t dark enough. Then added more greenery to the pine tree to make myself feel better.

I was getting frustrated and ready to call it quits when Andy came in. When I stood up and backed away, it didn’t look so bad.

While answering Nan’s email, I pulled up the original photo. Uh, oh, I noticed the funky-shaped closest trees weren’t how I was seeing them. The tallest part actually curves and attaches to the bigger trunk while the tree in the back is short and its top blends with the heavier needled section of the other tree.

I went back in the studio to make a note of this. I made a couple hen scratches to the trees and ended up doing more sky work, too. I made more swoopy blue clouds. Even with some frustration with how to get it right, there’s something so intriguing about this scene and all the shades of blue.

Experimenting with Colors on Snowy Ridge Trail

January 16: Worked in the studio until my right shoulder screamed too much. (Guess I have some kind of …itis.) One challenge I have to learn to deal with is how to do the sky without overworking it. I kept experimenting with different colors: blues, white, cream and some purply colors. I’m not quite sure. Maybe I have to lay the colors on and not rub them smooth… but I like smooth…

I also used a purply-pink to add background color in the mist, and I used some cream and a little blue to the foreground just as a starter. Some squiggles with Yarka black will add depth when I start the trees along the ridge.

I still struggled with the correct blue for the mountains. I played around with three-four shades of Sennelier and Mount Vision.

Another thing I’m doing a little different is doing more slashes and dots for the mountain trees instead of just coloring in.

It’s an interesting start and I’m not sure how/where it’s going to play out. I’m excited about it. 

Beginning the First Pastel Painting of 2022

 Snowy Ridge Trail 

January 14: I did something totally different today and taped a piece of BFK Rives on the standup easel and measured it at 9 ½ x 15 ¾. Using a charcoal pencil, I began sketching the foreground ridge. I played around trying to get it right.

I moved the painting to the DT easel, so I could sit to work on the foreground. I need to put my face closer to see what I’m doing. No, I’m not really doing detail yet, but I want to get the shapes and perspective right. I used a hard charcoal pencil for the ridge lines and the line of trees which helped give it the beginning of depth. Thought I did OK. Once again, I find putting in some foreground work helps me see the how the entire composition is looking.

I started getting the mountain tops drawn in. So far so good. Then I tried to find the right color pan pastel to start laying in some color. Too blue, too gray, not quite right, and when the pans didn’t “pan out” (pun intended), I tried Mount Vision, Diane Townsend, and Sennelier. I don’t have the right color blue, but I kept at it laying in some beginning color. But what I discovered is using the hard charcoal pencil doesn’t wipe away when I rub the mountain colors over the treetops. Hmmm, good to know… however, this means I need to hard erase any mistakes.

I’m really experimenting here trying to go at the painting from a different perspective than usual. I thought I was doing OK, until I edited the two progress photos. Oh, no! I’ve got the ridgeline too high on the page in spite of making a note to watch out for that. (‘Course, when I start working, I never remember to review my notes, ha-ha.)

I scooted back in the studio, erased lines and moved the ridge lower. I didn’t take a new progress photo. And now I just realized I didn’t print

Funny I can have all this intent, but the minute I get in the studio and start working, I totally forget my plans.

Autumn’s Rocky River; a partial story of a pastel painting

My friend, Paulette Normand-Paquin, gave me permission to use one of her photos for a painting reference. There are some of my favorite elements in this scene: dramatic sky, mountains, autumn colors in the trees, water, and rocks. But, oh, so many rocks! Could I pull this off?

Initial thumbnail sketch, 5 1/2 x 8 1/2 

I did an initial thumbnail sketch using vine charcoal (not actually thumbnail size but done on 5 ½ x 8 ½ sketch pad paper.) Then I drew out the outlines of shapes on 10 ½ x 14 ¾ BFK Rives paper and added values, also with vine charcoal. I put in the first round of color using pan pastels as an underpainting during the next stint in the studio.

The next times in the studio had me adding more and more color. I decided early on there was no way I could do all the rocks as shown in the photo. As I began getting into more details, I realized I had trouble being able to see some of the actual features, distinguishing the foliage of one tree from the next.

Adding color and getting in the first rocks

I use a lot of soft pastels, so when I’m trying to get finer lines, there’s the issue of not always being able to get the edge of the pastel to mark exactly where I want, which means having to wipe off or erase. And, too, I swear I have over 50 shades of green and never seem to have the exact color to match the photo. Then again, I’m not trying to be a photo realist, so as long as the colors look real, that’s all that really matters.

The rocks took a long time and I spent days trying to get them to look right. Weeks went by as I pecked at the painting. I’d take progress photos after almost every working and looking at that photo on the computer would give me ideas on what needed more work.

I wanted to finish this by the end of December, but I just kept finding aspects to fix. The water was another challenge. How do I make it look natural around the rocks? How do I get the right shading, ripples, movement? Another bit of challenge is getting the coloring of the progress photo to match the actual painting. As I’m also a photographer, I keep trying to make the photo be a good, vibrant photo instead of allowing it to be more like the painting.

Getting there

The painting dragged into the new year, and I was getting frustrated. I kept at periodically between all the other projects I was working on. I finally called it finished and signed it, but something kept bothering me about it.

After adding some warmth to the rocks

Then, after one of our Wonderful Waffle Wednesday breakfasts, Nan McCarthy, my very good friend and fellow artist, gave me some great suggestions. It’s funny, sometimes I get blind and can’t figure out what’s needed, yet the moment someone else points it out, I see it.

So, now, I’ll be back at doing finishing touches. I keep telling myself I want to finish paintings sooner – the longer it takes me, the more I tend to overwork the painting. Plus, after too much time, I get bored with it and want to move on to something else. But sometimes, I just can’t let things be and keep picking at it.