In April, I removed the old cast iron bathtub in our bathroom and replaced it with a tiled walk-in shower. In other words, I didn’t do any painting at all. However, since then, I’ve been outside painting a slew of plein air paintings. I’ll take painting over plumbing any day!
Big Beef Bay is an estuary that opens onto Hood Canal near Seabeck, WA. There’s a salmon research facility on the creek that leads into the head of the bay, and there are often photographers crowding the beach to photograph the eagles that congregate here.
Brownsville Marina is about ten minutes from our house. On a gray day, I tried to show the drifting mist coming down on Agate Passage.
On Fridays, I drive to Bainbridge Island to join my life drawing friends to draw and paint a live model. After our session last Friday I painted the coffee kiosk at the Bainbridge ferry terminal. This is a popular spot to grab a cup of coffee for commuters on the way to work in Seattle.
Last Sunday, Katy and I drove to Aberdeen to do research for the cozy mystery novel she’s writing. We stayed in a grand old bed-and-breakfast in Aberdeen, and, fortified with a hearty breakfast, explored Preacher’s Slough near Aberdeen.
The slough got its name in 1859 when a Rev. Douglas rowed his rowboat up the Chehalis River from Aberdeen to Montesano to visit some parishioners who were preparing a chicken dinner for his arrival. Unfortunately, he took a wrong turn up one of the sloughs that branch off the river and got lost. He was so late he had to eat cold chicken long after everyone else had finished, and for the rest of his career he was known as “that damn fool preacher who got lost.” The slough was used to store log rafts during the heyday of logging, and the pilings used to moor the rafts are still in place.
On Tuesday, I had a church meeting in Hoodsport, and afterward I went to the beach for this moody painting of beach houses.
In the afternoon, I drove up the Skokomish River road. This road meanders up a lovely valley with old farms nestled between the logged-over hills above. It was a damp, misty afternoon, so I sat in my car and made this painting of an abandoned barn.
I don’t know where to begin on your slew of works. I had wondered about the Preacher’s Slough (two homophones). Now I know about those pilings. I look forward to Katy’s book.
You have a keen ear for words! Glad you like the post. We’ll let you know when Katy’s book comes out.
Very nice to have this narrative with the paintings–in the context YOU see them in (or ONE of the contexts, anyway!) I would so much like to understand better than I do what goes through your mind as you paint–your “self-talk” about your style, your color choice, the kind of sequences you work in, the discoveries or surprises that come up, how you decide you’re on the track you want to be on, etc.–whether you carry on any conversation as you paint–with yourself, or with anyone, or listen to music, or take breaks, etc. I did not do any painting during the pandemic because the suffering other people, even strangers, endured worried and saddened me too much. I did do a lot of work in the garden during those years, though. I made my first drawing in the last several years just about a week ago–with a fine-point black ink pen. On an impulse, I bought some colored pencils the other day, and this morning chose one color out of twenty-four. (I didn’t realize until just this minute that there were 72 colors in the box, in layers!) I don’t plan my work! So I’m wondering if planning is part of your painting style.