Two more plein air pastels from Escalante Canyons Art Festival

Not posted in the order painted...

Storm Over Escalante Canyon - 12x16", plein air
pastel on gray Artagain paper

This piece was done (and still not quite finished) in two afternoon sessions.  I'd intended to head back out for a third session to finish it up completely on location, but time and weather/light conditions didn't permit that.  So, after dragging it around on my easel for the better part of a week, it's now finished!

It was started Wed early evening, less than an hour before sunset.  The location is along the road to the Escalante State Park/Campground, where we spent the first two nights in Escalante.  It is about 2 miles west of town, so this view is to the east.  The late afternoon light lit up the beautiful sandstone cliffs and canyon walls, and I knew I had to paint it as we drove back from picking up my Quick Draw entry.

I jumped right back in the car when we got back to our campsite, drove to this location by a cattle ranch, and quickly established the main composition and the basic colors of the rock  and foreground while the light was still good.  I had to stop when the sun went down behind the distal plateau behind me, and the light had completely disappeared.  

I returned around 4PM the next afternoon, and was in luck that the stormy skies that had provided the contrast for the original view were staging an encore, albeit a bit different.  So, I worked quickly to capture the ever-changing clouds.

One thing I love about painting skies such as these, are the edges.  Hard, soft, lost and found - these clouds had them all.   

Buttes Near Harris Wash - 9x12", plein air
pastel on toned UArt #600

An "unofficial" piece done (not stamped) on Friday, along the trail leading to the Zebra slot canyon.  We loved this hike when we did it back in May, and I wanted to do a painting somewhere along the trail, or in the washes.  These stunning striped buttes, of Jurassic period Navajo sandstone, are a stand-out feature along the hike, and these are about 2 miles into the hike.  When I found a large juniper to provide shade right near the trail with this view, it was a no-brainer.  I spent about an hour or so working on this while Wayne explored Harris Wash downstream.

I even had him take a picture of me at the scene after he got back:

Two more pictures from that hike:

Forming cumulonimbus anvil looking north from where I painted

Clouds against sandstone - Halfway Hollow wash on the hike back

A new blog name and two new paintings

As the four year anniversary for this blog approaches, I realized it was time for a change to reflect the direction my work has taken since September '09.  Back when I started blogging, I wrote in my initial post that I was not sure where my work would head based on my past experience in various media, so it was easy to call it a "daily art journal".  For some reason, that just doesn't seem to fit now.

Since then, it's evolved along with my interests and art and priorities.   I identify as much as a painter as I do a photographer now, and the blog has always been about more than just posting a painting or a couple of photos and calling it a day.

Anyway,  there you go.  I've done up a new banner, which I do periodically anyway.  I'm going to keep tweaking the format to hopefully make it more appealing to readers.

On to the paintings....

Fly Fishing Waters - 9x12", plein air
pastel on black cardstock

This one is from yesterday, on another trip to Cascade creek, and was actually destined for the trashcan because I lost interest in it about 3/4 of the way though, partially because of the greens which I didn't want to deal with, and I was also having difficulty concentrating, probably from a poor night's sleep.  That happens sometimes, and I've found it's very much linked to those periods of "artist block" that I go through.  Having had the same thing happen a few days ago the last time I went out painting, I wasn't terribly surprised when I realized I'd left my game back in the locker room, so to speak.

A digression here regarding the trip:  we got off to a late start, and as is typical, the chance of rain in the mountains was pretty high.  From the parking area, it's about 1.25 miles to get to the section of the creek where I'd planned to paint, so I brought my folding table and stool, rather than my french easel.

Wayne split off to hit the creek and walk upstream, to practice with his brand new fly fishing gear.  I got to the location - one I'd scouted and photographed during our June trip - and already the sky was filling with dark clouds.  Thunder rumbled off in the distance, and it was clearly doing to start raining within a few minutes.  I wasn't enthused about the spot; the water was down, and the green was just not something I felt like dealing with.

So, I gathered up everything and decided to head back down the trail to find Wayne, who told me he'd meet me walking upstream as he fished.  Right before I got back to the junction to the main trail, the wind kicked up suddenly and it started to rain.  I dropped my gear and was putting on my rain jacket when I heard a loud crack - a sound unlike anything I'd ever heard before.  I looked up to see a rather large tree blow down not 15 feet from where I was standing.   Had it fallen towards me, I'm not sure I would have had time to get out of the way.

Worse still was hearing another tree fall about 30 seconds later on the other side of the trail.  I started worrying about a blowdown (a large number of trees blown down in a localized area from a windstorm), because those are a frequent occurrence in Colorado forests, and I've seen plenty of them after the fact on hikes across trails.  It was, needless to say, a disconcerting experience.

At that point, I started running down the trail in the rain, and ran into Wayne coming up to meet me.  We decided to go to the historic cabin near the trailhead and wait out the storm.  Within minutes, it was over, the wind and cloudburst heading south to torment some other hikers.

We went back to the creek, and I settled on this new location to paint.  Wayne, who has been talking of  learning to fly fish during the entire 7 years I have known him, finally purchased all the gear, and this was literally only his second outing using it.  He started right where I was painting and worked upstream.

The title of the painting comes from the fact he caught his first fish with a fly right in front of me.  It was an exciting moment for him, and fun for me to witness.  For those that don't know, the nice thing about fly fishing is that the fish can be released, unharmed.

Oh yes - here's the other painting:

Afternoon Cloud Study - 12x12", plein air
pastel on reclaimed cardstock

Not to be deterred by two back-to-back "failed" paintings, later that afternoon, I decided to wipe down the earlier one and stand on the sidewalk and paint the clouds outside.  Really, when all else fails:  go paint a cloud - it's good for you.  Bonus:  painting 10 feet from the front door.

Then today, as I pulled out my pastel boxes from my backpack, I looked at yesterday's creek painting, and thought:  "what do I have to lose?  Why not sit and finish it with no regard to the outcome?"  I had planned to toss it anyway.  So, I worked through it, with a different frame of mind, and made it happen.  Maybe there's something in this readers can take away for themselves?  I hope so!

Secluded canyon, plein air pastel painting

From last week.  

Footpath Through Willows - plein air
12x9" - pastel on brown cardstock
© S.Johnson

I recently discovered a new trail just minutes away from where I live, that seems as remote as somewhere in southern Utah canyon country.  The main trail leads up to the top of Smelter Mountain, but this small, seldom-used path splits off early on and leads up the small canyon behind Smelter.

A neat find, with potential for future paintings.  

Chaco Canyon plein air, day #2

A full day of painting on Saturday...

Single Family Home - 12x12 inches, pastel on brown cardstock

After waking to a perfect, sunny morning, and having some much-needed coffee, I headed over to the informal "base of operations" campsite where Rhonda and another 4C member were staying.  Helen and Jerri came over, and said they were going to paint the modest little ruin in our campsite, so I decided to join them; after all, it's 50 meters from my campsite!

What I really liked about it was the contrast of the ruin structure, its subtle shadow and stone detail (including shadows along those open edges), and the contrast against the darker alcove in which it was located.  Painting that alcove - with its variety of reflected light, ever-shifting surface planes and intriguing desert varnish facade - proved by far the most difficult aspect of this painting.  Nonetheless, I got it done in maybe 1 1/2 hours, and it was a good warm-up for the day.

After eating an early lunch, I got my next painting surface ready.  For whatever reason, while driving around Friday, I got an idea to try something I've never done before, studio or elsewhere:  a triptych.  Don't ask me why this idea came to me on this trip, but I now had this compulsion to at least try it.

I did originally plan to try a large painting - 16x20 - on this trip, so I had the paper already taped to a 18x24" foamboard panel.  Off it came, and in its place went a 12x12 and two 12x6 pieces on either side.   Heck, the largest painting size I've done on location was 12x16, so this was new territory for me as well.

Perhaps channeling our first trip to Chaco about 1 1/2 years ago, I stopped at the first ruins along the drive - Hungo Pavi.  I'd taken a photo, not of the ruin, but of the canyon wall behind the ruin, and thought that might make a good painting.  Wasn't thrilling me as a triptych, though.

As I walked around the ruin, I came across something that also had grabbed my attention (and a photo, it turns out, of the same window!)  during the first trip:  a small window through which the opposite side of Chaco canyon was visible.  It suddenly occurred to me that I just stumbled upon a triptych subject!  I also realized that even if the side panels didn't work out, the center 12x12 could probably stand on its own.  And, my thought at the time I decided to do this was:  "this will either be pretty neat, totally different from anything I've ever painted or seen done, or just plain weird!"

I spent 3 hours on it, and got it about 75% finished, surprisingly.  Periodic gusts of wind made it a challenge to paint, but luckily, there was never any risk of anything actually blowing over (or away).  Our group critique was at 3PM at the visitor's center, so I hauled it, and the above painting, along for the critique, not sure what to expect from the group.

Sort of surprisingly, everyone really liked it, and the concept.  The group is having a show at the end of the month, in Farmington, for paintings done at Mesa Verde, Aztec and Chaco.  So, I will definitely enter this one.

Here it is, on location, at the end of the second painting session yesterday (Sunday), after I'd finished "bricking and mortaring" it in:

Amazing masonry of Hungo Pavi
(note black trash bag used as a ground cover:  a requirement by the Park to paint there)

It's not completely finished; I need to go and do some final finessing to the rocks and mortar areas.  When you are looking at Chacoan architecture, it's not just about the impressive size and scope of the Great Houses, but about the skill of the masons.   These buildings are over 900 years old.  I wanted to recognize the masonry detail in my painting.

I'll post a photo later when I've touched up the remaining areas and have it framed.  The framing is a whole separate issue that I've spent a good deal of time thinking about.  I've come up with a solution that I hope looks good.

hanging out during Sunday's painting operations

...

Unfortunately, my camera really didn't make much of an appearance during this trip, save for the first day and this shot.   When you are in the mindset of painting, snapping some photos just doesn't have the same appeal.

After the critique session, I went back to the camp, heated up leftovers for dinner, and then decided to head out and paint some more - this time, to Pueblo Del Arroyo, which as the name describes, is a ruin that is right near Chaco wash.  Four other 4C people were painting there when I arrived, so clearly, it was The Place To Be on late Saturday afternoon.

Picture Window - 12x9 inches, pastel on brown cardstock

This just appealed to me because it was really about sitting and observing the masonry detail again, since the entire wall was in the shade.  Noting, for example, how the very top has a variety of rock types, many dark, some very light.  The main section has little mortar, which is suggested by a few dark, thin lines.   The edge of the window was formed with thin, even sections of rock, and the outer edge formed an hourglass-type curve.  Then, the single layer of darker rock, protruding slightly.  The bottom layer of homogenous stone with mortar.  And, the small paired openings to a lower room.

For this painting, I was mindful to create interesting negative spaces and irregular intervals:  symmetry is not what we want here!  The paired openings, window and top of the ruin create a triangle, as do all 3 sections of sky.

After this painting, I was really too tired to try a nocturne a few hours later, although one intrepid member (Deb) did.  The rest of us sat around a blazing campfire, talking of things art and not, and enjoying the extra full, extra bright moon rising over the canyon walls.

I've already decided that if and when another 4CPAP to Chaco Canyon is arranged next year, I'll be back.

Cedar Mesa, UT - part I, plein air in Arch Canyon

A trip that defined why I love painting the landscape of southern Utah...

Arch Canyon Spires - plein air, 12x9 inches,  pastel on cardstock
© 2012, S.Johnson

Done on day three of our trip, when our group of four took a hike/trail ride up Arch Canyon, the mouth of which we camped during our stay in the area.  

I never know whether I'll be in the mood to paint, or find a decent location to sit and paint (must be in the shade) when I bring my plein air gear along on hikes.  But, even for the times I've hauled it along and never brought it out, I've never regretted bringing it...just in case.

This particular painting also pushed the envelope of how far I've hiked to paint:  4.8 miles.  I honestly thought I might be too tired to paint; the temps were in the 80's and hiking through soft sand along a Jeep road can wear one out.   Our friends, riding ahead on their horses, found the perfect location for lunch - a sandstone overhang with abundant shade right next to the creek.  And this view.  I could have easily done 3-4 paintings from the exact location.  

For whatever reason(s), this painting came together in a way I couldn't have anticipated, almost surrealistic in how effortless it was.  It is moments like this that cause me to not worry when I have a painting slump, because they often result in a breakthrough of some type - I feel there was one here, but I'm not sure what, why or how it happened.   There's also something about the effort required to obtain these "immersion" plein air pieces that makes them special to me, and this painting is one of the few I'd have a hard time parting with.  

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Some photos from the first day and the Arch Canyon hike:

Our campsite, with Jypsi (Paso Fino) and Indy (pinto Tennessee Walking Horse)
in their portable corral 

Cliffside ruins (Anasazi) a short walk up Arch Canyon

This handsome chap - a Collared lizard - posing for a photo during our hike

Ancient granery along Arch Canyon - telephoto shot...

...another photo to show just how inaccessible and high this granery was

Sarah and Jypsi at our lunch location; I sat in the shaded alcove to the left to paint

A wide-angle view of the spires from the creek bed near the alcove

On the way back:  Jypsi demonstrates her rock-climbing prowess while Todd and Indy look on

A look back up the trail on the afternoon hike back

Spring Cottonwood in canyon country - pastel

Another in the mini-series of "Spring in Moab"...

Canyon Cottonwood
12x9 inches, pastel on black cardstock
© 2012, S.Johnson

I love the twisted and irregular shapes of the trunks and branches of these large Fremont cottonwoods that are found throughout the southwest in desert washes and canyons, which explains why they always end up in my trip photos and as subjects for paintings.  Can't be helped.

I originally wanted this to be a really loose piece, maybe bordering on abstract, but it went in a different direction.  Trees are always a challenge for the landscape painter on different levels, and this one was no exception.

A few more photos from Moab:

Canyon of the Ancients - plein air painting and photos

Took advantage of another fantastic day to head out for some hiking and painting...

Overlooking Sand Canyon - plein air
9x12 inches, pastel on black cardstock
 © S.Johnson

West of Cortez is a BLM-managed area known as "Canyon of the Ancients NM".  It has several Anasazi pueblo ruins within the main canyon - Sand Canyon.  A 6.5 mile trail runs along the canyon from north to south, and today, we opted to check out the northern end, as there is a large puebloan ruin site right near the road.  Unfortunately, it's nothing but rubble, having either been excavated and filled back in or not excavated at all.  Not even photo-worthy.

But, the hike was!  I decided to bring along my lightest plein air set-up along, just in case I found something worth painting.  That consists of my pastel box, a piece of foamboard with a 9x12 paper taped to it, and a stadium chair, which I can strap to my daypack.

We hiked a bit over 5 miles, and this view was at about 1.5 miles.  I saw it and knew I had to paint it on the way back.   After hiking another mile and dropping about 600' in elevation to the wide bench, we hung out for a bit and then came back up to this area.  Wayne read a book in the shade while I painted.

The snow-covered mountain there?  That's Sleeping Ute, as seen from the north and much bigger than the painting I did of it last month.

Anyway, aside from some really treacherous areas of mud (I keep forgetting that it is mud season here for a bit longer), the hike was great.  Spring is definitely on the way - here are some photos:

A species of phlox, I believe

Southwestern Orangetip - one of the earliest butterflies of spring

Another sign temps are warming up:  the lizards come out to sun themselves

And, an interesting shot across the canyon along the bench - an exposed section of sandstone, showing an interesting gridded erosion pattern:

Road Trip series - #2 & 3, in oils

The series continues through the Navajo Nation, now switching over to oils...

Blue House at Red Mesa - #3
oil on board - 9x12 inches
© S.Johnson

During our drives across Hwy 160, I always see this blue house.  It sits alone, dwarfed by the surrounding desert.  It fascinates me.  A few miles away is the community of Red Mesa, so named for the distinctive geological formation in the distance.  Far off on the right, the top of the Abajo Mountains in Utah are seen.  

Approaching Teec Nos Pos - #2
oil on board - 9x12 inches
© S.Johnson

This is yesterday's painting, and the first time I've used oils since June.  Yeah, a bit rusty with them - can you tell?  I almost wiped this, and probably should have, but decided to just power through it and move on.  Also time to replace some of my brushes - they were not helping the process.

Teec Nos Pos [pronounced 'tees nose pose'] means "circle of cottonwoods" in Navajo , and it's a tiny little community that sits at the junction of Hwy 160 and the end of Hwy 64.  

Revisiting the roadtrip: a new series

After mulling over a few different ideas, I think I've finally settled on something to paint while I wait for plein air season to begin in earnest...

Altocumulus Over Sleeping Ute
9x12 inches - pastel on black construction paper
© S.Johnson

A theme for a previous series - the roadtrip - and even the same route - Hwy 160 and 89A.  Even the Grand Canyon.  But, this will also take us further south and off the Colorado Plateau to Phoenix, via Interstate 17.  

The trip was back in early August, and early on, the skies started being interesting, but I had no idea just what an amazing transformation would happen just in the span of a few hours, courtesy of the monsoons.  Maynard Dixon would have loved this day.  

I've decided that for this series, it will be pretty much "anything goes", in terms of media, surface, size, style, etc.   Basically, I want to use this as an opportunity to focus on specific ideas or concepts for each painting, and the common element will simply be that they all are based from references from this trip to Phoenix and back, with a side trip to the Grand Canyon.  I've shared photos and the plein air piece I did from that trip here.  I even tested the waters months ago for this series with this graphite drawing.

For this first piece in the series, it's all about the sky and minimalism.   The view is south of the Sleeping Ute Mtn, located in the southwestern corner of Colorado.  The sweep of the clouds over the mountain, and their movement throughout the sky are what appealed to me here.  Blue seemed too conventional, so the sky is in some fun colors of turquoise and teal/purple-gray.  

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the drive!

Riverside fall colors and a pair of pears

Along The River Shore
9x12 inches - pastel on Wallis paper
© S.Johnson

Today's painting done along a section of the Animas that I've painted along four times now, although only   one of the other paintings has made it onto the blog...

It's the final hurrah for fall colors here in southern CO.  The storm that passed through the past couple of days did much to accelerate the leaf departure from the trees, both along the river and along our street.  Having been cooped up inside for the past 2 days due to the storm, I was grateful that it was sunny in the mid-50's so that we could get outside and paint!  Today, Pat and I were joined by Rosemary, another pastelist, who paints with the Friday plein air group.

I've done paintings on Wallis that I was quite happy with, but this isn't really one of them.  I have decided that I just find the surface to be too aggressive, and I don't find the ability to add many layers to be desirable.  In fact, it adds significantly to the painting time because of the need for an underpainting and it really chews up the pastels, resulting in lots of smearing when I try to lightly scumble another color on top.  This is good to know, and since Wallis is pretty $, once my existing pieces are used up, I won't buy it again, unless I have some breakthrough moment with it.

Yesterday, I started a studio painting from one of the fall color reference photos I took recently, but it was a grind right out of the blocks, and while I know the scene has merit as a painting, I'll probably revisit it with oils.

There are these delicious red D'Anjou pears in the house now, so I decided to do another mini 10-minute challenge painting before they are all gone, which will be soon:

Pear Pair
6x4 inches - pastel on Artagain

Riverside Rocks and a 10-minute challenge

Riverside Rocks
12x9 inches - pastel on Artagain
© S.Johnson

A studio piece, based on one of the photos taken from Baker's Bridge the other day.  I was really into these rocks with all their fissures and interesting textural things going on, and then of course, there was the amazing green water and reflections with the yellow cottonwoods.

The reflections on this were a bit tricky; the brown central area is actually a section of shallow water, but I don't know if it reads  properly or not.  I think I could finesse it a bit more.  And the photo did odd things to the greens used in the water, esp. the darker reflections in shadow - they are a darker turquoise and not the more saturated green in this photo.

I think the best part about doing this in my studio was that I had access to all of my pastels!  No having to make do with what was in my plein air box.   And, I was finally able to use some of these beautiful dark turquoise greens I bought a while back.

And, here is yesterday's painting, done as a warm-up for the painting above.  It's this week's DailyPaintworks challenge - a revisiting of the Ten Minute Challenge from earlier in the year.  You basically choose an object (and this is an apple, believe it or not) and divide your canvas into small sections and paint the object several times in 10-minute intervals.  Even with a 3x3" size per square, it's not as easy as you might think.  I did a pear last time, and it was a lot easier than this Gala apple.

Apple Octet
6x9 inches

It's really funny having a partner around who isn't an artist and is totally comfortable being honest about  the paintings:  "the first one looks like an onion, and the 4th looks like a smashed pumpkin, and some look like they are rotting..."  Seriously, Wayne's comments make me laugh, and I know what someone will be getting in his Christmas stocking this year...

I tried to select accurate colors for everything prior to starting the painting, but you can see I sort of hosed it with the shadow colors on the first set of four.  By the 8th one, I was starting to get a bit better, and they are starting to look more like apples.   I just set the apple on a piece of Strathmore paper and rotated it under my studio lamp for each mini painting to get the differing shadows.

This is a great exercise, and I would encourage anyone who paints to try it, especially if you are trying to loosen up in your work.  Thanks so much for the challenge, Carol!

Animas River, rocks and reflections SOLD

River Rocks and Fall Reflections
SOLD
12x9 inches - pastel on Artagain
© S.Johnson

Yesterday's painting, done along the east side of the Animas about 1/4 of a mile up river from our location on Friday, and a new location for me.  We went there at Pat's suggestion, and while both of us were initially drawn to this amazing pair of cottonwoods on the opposite side of the river in backlit fall light, I found couldn't make the composition work, so I moved downstream a bit, and when I saw this big boulder its coterie of smaller rocks, and the reflection, my first thought was: "fun!", so I was compelled to paint it.

Care to guess what the most difficult part of this painting was?  Hint:  not the water or reflections, which I find pretty easy to paint.  It was actually the grouping of rocks in front of the boulder.  As I set about to block them in, I was thinking:  "must avoid cloning rocks", but that's exactly what started to happen.  Basically, the left brain came in and tried to over-ride operations for this part of the painting...and sort of succeeded.

The light faded before I had time to address this on location, so I tinkered with them in the studio this morning.  An improvement, but could be better.  Another thing to work on...

We are supposed to have a system move through tomorrow that will bring rain and much colder temps for a couple of days, so my plein air bender is coming to a close.  So, it will be back to the studio for a bit.

Animas River fall colors - plein air, pastel

Since coming back from Moab:  1) the riverside cottonwoods have come into full color; 2) I've felt even more energized to do plein air painting since the season here will end soon.

I haven't painted every day, but here are two paintings from the three outings this week.  As much as my enthusiasm for painting from photos has diminished, I did take many photos as well that I can use later when the color is gone and it's too cold to go outside.

Riverside Trio
9x12 - pastel on Artagain
© S.Johnson

Behind our local shopping mall is access to the paved multi-use trail, and a small dirt foot path leads directly to the river nearby.  I'd taken photos on Sunday during a long walk Wayne and I took along the trail, and decided to come back and paint these three cottonwoods.  The three tiers of slopes are separated by a road (top) and a singletrack path (lower) on the east side of the river.

River Boulder and Bridge Shadows
12x12 inches - pastel on Pastelmat
© S.Johnson

Today's painting, done a bit further down river at a small park.  Local pastelist Pat Smiley  and I were finally able to plan to paint together, and we had a great time.  Back in July, she had given me this piece of Pastelmat to try, as I'd never used it before.  I used it for a painting not long after that which didn't work.  I brushed the painting off and used rubbing alcohol to stain the rest into the paper to try again.

For some reason, it suddenly worked better for me, perhaps because the surface was darker?  I don't know, but I found the amount of tooth it had to be probably perfect for me.  A sanded paper like Wallis is probably too much, and this surface was nice in that it allowed more layers than my usual sanded Artagain does and worked really well with the light touch I am used to.

It's funny...I'm not sure how well this painting reads to anyone but myself and Pat, since we were both there.  The two large shadows - the upper one from a bridge, and the one across the water from a large cottonwood - were two of the things that attracted me to this scene, along with the boulder and lone yellow sapling.

I'm not super happy with the water reflections in this one - they were very cool, but difficult to render because of all the reflected yellows and browns from the trees.  Plus, this paper handles differently than the Artagain which I'm used to doing water reflections on.

Pat and I have planned to go out for at least the next two days in a row, so more fall colors to come!

PleinAir Moab - Part I

Back from my 6-day plein air painting adventure in Moab, UT!  Actually, I got back late Saturday night, but yesterday was spent catching up around here and because I managed to completely forget to take photos of the paintings done during the week, I couldn't just zap them up on the blog, and all had to be taken out of their frames anyway.

Where to start?  Well, it was truly an adventure, with ups and downs and more activity crammed into each day than I am used to.  I've decided to break it up into two separate posts of 3 days each so as to not overwhelm readers.  This post is long enough as it is, but hopefully, it will be sort of entertaining to read...if not, you can see the photos and move on.

Overall, the experience was great, and I'll probably go back next year, having learned a lot about what to do, what not to do, what to expect and where to focus my efforts painting.  Thus, the level of chaos should be reduced significantly.  The two highlights of the trip for me were: 1) meeting other artists and making new connections; 2) having my favorite painting strike a chord - not with the judges or other artists - but with a resident of Moab who loved it enough to give it a new home.   Honestly, that is what made the expense and effort and moments of frustration worth it.  

Here's the painting, posted first even though it wasn't the first one completed.  It was the painting I chose to enter in the competition:

Quiet Reflections in Hunter Canyon
16x12 inches - pastel on Artagain
© 2011, S.Johnson

Monday, Oct 10: 

After arriving in town and securing my lodging and getting several of my panels stamped for the event at the MARC, I headed to locations recommended by some folks on an outdoor forum I read that is Utah-based.  Kane Creek Rd, which heads south out of Moab and passes the portal (where the Colorado River crosses from one canyon, past Moab, and down another canyon) was recommended, and after a couple of brief stops, I found one of the recommended locations - Hunter Canyon.  The canyon is about 2 miles in length, and includes a perennial spring and an arch.  

Due to the time of year and the relative width of the canyon, much of it was in shade.  After about 1/4 mile along the path and a creek crossing, a section of the canyon was in sun.  As I looked back along the path, I saw this lone shrub sitting atop a slab of fallen sandstone.  It was backlit, and had a glorious reflection in the pool in front.  The distal canyon wall and scrub oak were in shadow.  I knew instantly that I had my first painting, and I quickly snapped a photo to use in planning the composition of the painting via thumbnail sketches.

About 30' away was this reflection, forming the most beautiful abstract design:

This isn't the sort of image that I feel would translate well into a painting, so I had no intention to paint it.  I love it as a photo.  Regular readers know my love of water and reflections, so this was right up my alley, so to speak.  I shot a few more photos of possible painting subjects, some of which may end up as studio pieces and/or plein air paintings for next year.  Hunter Cyn was now officially my favorite painting location in Moab!

After this, I headed back up the road towards town and drove out Hwy 128, which follows the Colorado through a larger canyon for about 15 miles as it heads east of Moab and towards the Fisher Towers (a planned destination for possible sunset photos that evening, and possible painting subject.  I saw a handful of artists painting at pull-outs along the highway in the main section of the canyon.  

As the highway continues east, it opens up to Professor Valley and the highway diverges from the Colorado such that it is no longer visible.  At the time I was heading out, it was around 4PM, and the light to the south was ideal for painting, and the LaSals come into view past the turn-off to Castle Rock.  The recent storm that went through the region left a significant amount of snow on their peaks, which added to the beauty of this "big picture" scene:

A bit further east, I noticed a small creek and several bright cottonwoods right off the side of the road...and two painters busy painting away!  I pulled off, and not wanting to bother them, I walked a couple hundred yards up the creek bed.  A small cluster of young cottonwoods on the edge of the wash were backlit against the shadowed slopes of the wash and some mesas, near and far, in the background.  Seemed like a great location to get a quick painting done:

Arroyo Shadows
9x12 inches - pastel on Artagain
©S.Johnson

One thing I discovered quickly is that, despite my efforts to select a palette appropriate to the southern Utah landscape, it always seemed to fall short.  Not quite cool and gray enough was the recurrent theme of the trip.   That being said, the practice pieces I did were still a big help.  After talking with other artists, and pastelists in particular, I discovered that everyone struggled with the same issue (including Terry Ludwig, who was one of the judges...apparently, even he didn't have the right colors!).  We further concluded that this landscape was indeed a big challenge to paint.  

So, this first small painting didn't turn out quite to my expectations and there are things that bug me about it, but it was worth the effort (and the photos of all these paintings suffer from the same problem of being too bright and contrasty.  Ugh).  And, it was here that I met fellow artists Bill and Andre who were painting nearby.  Andre lives in La Honda, CA, and Bill lives near my old stomping grounds in Sedona, AZ.  

Tuesday, Oct 11:

After a rather wretched nights' sleep, I got up with the intent to spend the day painting along Hwy 128. The primary reason for this was that the first of the three quick-draw events was being held at the Red Cliffs Resort & Winery along the same highway and I thought I might like to try and enter that.  I also discovered that the quick-draw events were 3 hours in length and not 90 minutes that I originally thought.  

I also thought that the general location along Professor Valley and the Onion Creek area would be good to do a large painting - 16x20 - of a big picture scene.  Having planned for only one of these sized paintings, I had my single panel and no back-up paper of this size along.  Mistake #1.  Mistake #2 was deviating from my normal procedure which is to paint with the paper taped to a board.  Because I wasn't sure how to handle the whole stamping process, I created panels to paint on...something I never do, which in this case, was paper taped with framer's tape to the boards, with a few swipes of a glue stick where it would actually hold.  Turns out, it didn't work well for me, but thankfully, I discovered that some gesso painted on the back of the paper worked great for a stamp location and that you could finish your framing after the stamp was verified by a volunteer at the check-in table.  

Mistake #3 was spending far too much time deciding on the "perfect" location for this "perfect" painting and then realizing about 1 1/2 hrs. into it that you bit off more than you could chew and that while the composition and concept were good, the execution was clearly heading south.  The view was of the Fisher Towers as seen from Onion Creek.  Light was excellent, but the complexity of the scene was a challenge and the pastels were mocking me with their shortcomings.  Wind kicking up wasn't helping at all.  And, I never even took a photo of this scene.

So, I decided to scrap the painting, and walked down to the creek and in one of those "why did I do that?" moments, proceeded to first brush off the pastel and then wash it off with creek water from my hand.  Since parts of the paper were adhered to the panel with a glue stick, and to what was essentially a corrugated surface, I was to find out 2 days later this forever doomed the paper and subsequent painting attempt on it.  

Not to be completely discouraged by these failed efforts, I headed back, turned down this intriguing dirt road that led off of the main highway

and beyond an impressively huge ranch to a remote location that had a view that I immediately loved.  It was about 1 1/2 hrs. until the quick draw event at the Red Cliffs began, but nonetheless, I set up the easel and began what would be Failed Painting #2.  Despite using my viewfinder, it just seemed I couldn't get the basic drawing to work.   At that point, I think my right brain just shut off for the day, and I shot two photos for a later studio piece, because there was no way in hell I was driving another 44 miles RT to try it from location again, and so I headed off to Red Cliffs for the quick-draw.

By the time I got there, folks were already setting up and getting their paintings underway.  I walked around, looking for a view that would grab me, decided I really wasn't "feeling the love" for anything, and headed back into town.   Since painting was done for me for the day, I decided to take a drive down the west side of the Colorado River south and west of Moab, known as Potash Rd.  I only drove about 6 miles, and while I saw no locations conducive for painting, I did stop to take some photos of beautiful Datura flowers (also known as "moonflowers"), before heading back to my room for some much-needed sleep.

Datura in full bloom

Datura flower spiral, unfurling

Wed, Oct 12:

Following a solid night's sleep, I got up and headed off by mid-morning to my original chosen location, Hunter Canyon, for at least one and possibly two paintings.  I felt good and excited to paint, and thanks to the spiffy backpack conversion kit for my French easel (thanks again, Dan, for telling me about it!), bringing the easel the 1/4 mile down the trail to the location was easy.

When I arrived, everything was still completely in shade.  This was fine, as I was able to get the sandstone slab, bush, pool and its edge drawn in and the background (which was in shade the entire time) completed.   Having completed about 1/2 of the painting at this point, I realized that: a) I was sort of cold from standing in the shade not moving; b) I was hungry.  So, I sat in the sun about 20 feet away on a large rock and ate and enjoyed the warm sun.

It was about this time that a breeze decided to kick up in the canyon, and while I knew my easel wasn't going to be disturbed by this, it didn't occur to me how unsecured both my panel was to the easel and the paper was to the panel, since I'd removed 3/4 of the tape for the painting process and had planned to re-tape it after I was finished.  By the time I figured that the breeze could be a problem, it was too late:  I watched as a gust came up and the paper and Coroplast separated from each other and the easel and landed face-down into the pool of water!  

I guess I could have gotten either really mad or completely discouraged by the fact that my painting was suddenly ruined after about 1 1/2 hrs. of work, but after assessing that it was indeed ruined, I just shrugged, walked back to my car, grabbed my pad of Artagain (that I thankfully had the foresight to bring along), whipped out my trusty piece of sandpaper from my apron pocket, dried off the Coroplast (which thankfully had the stamp on it), and started again.  

Using the original painting as a guide, I was able to quickly re-draw everything, and decided to sit while I did this.  By the time I was finished with the background, the light was at its "magical moment", and I set about to paint in the window of time while the plant, reflections and sandstone were in the sun.  I had to wait a few times for the breeze to settle so I could paint the reflection, but I managed to get it 90% completed.  I ended up sitting on the sand for the entire painting.

Feeling energized from a successful painting rising up from the setback, I decided I'd try another one on my way back, this time from the Kane Springs campground a few miles back towards town.  The sandstone cliff walls in shadow and the foreground field and mid-ground trees had a relatively simple design, so I was able to get this about 80% completed before it got too late and the sun went behind the cliffs:

Late Afternoon in Kane Springs Camp
11x14 inches
©S.Johnson

The photo of this has the same issue with the overly contrast-y shadow colors on the rocks.  Even p.p. adjustments couldn't make it look like the actual painting.  While I was painting, another pastel artist and local Moab resident, Victoria Fugit, came up and introduced herself and we had a delightful chat.  Later, the campground host came up and told me she felt I captured the feeling of the rocks, their shadows, and the area very well, which was encouraging to hear!

Here's a photo I took from the same area on Monday, earlier in the day, of this most magnificent cottonwood at one of the campsites, off to the right of where I did my painting.  The Colorado river lies just on the other side of the row of tamarisk:

After what turned out to be a productive day, the fun times weren't over yet:  after driving back into town and pulling into the McDonald's parking lot to call Wayne, I went to start the car afterwards, and much to my dismay, during my 10-minute conversation, it decided not to start.   This is the time my sister would say:  "I hear circus music!"  Indeed, it was playing loudly in my head.  I drove Wayne's Civic because it's a reliable car, so what are the odds it would decide to have issues on this trip?  Murphy is laughing somewhere, I know.

To make a long story short, despite having to walk back to the hostel in the dark about a mile, thanks to Wayne doing some internet searches and calls, there happened to be a repair place with a tow truck that was just down from the place I was staying.   The car was towed there that night.

It turned out to be a dead battery, so I really couldn't blame the little car, and while this all sounds like a bit of a nightmare, indeed it could have been so much worse!  I shudder to think what I would have done had the battery decided to go out when I was way down on the remote Onion Springs road the day before, where there was little traffic and no cell phone coverage 27 miles outside of Moab.  That I only had to walk a mile back to the place I was staying and the issue was minor was a blessing.  

Thus ends Part I of my PleinAir Moab adventure...