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Another Corvallis Field

-- Jer

Stop me if -- Part 3

More pleine aire oil paintings from the last few months:

A pleine aire of the ash trees in front of our house -- must have been done in early September.

Same odd tree as a few days ago, same funny little houses, but a larger size, about 12" by 16". Another pleine aire, dodging raindrops.

My very favorite, done one Sunday morning. I was sitting at the corner up the street when a neighbor and his 2 year old daughter strolled by. They had to kibitz, and the neighbor, being serious about his vehicles, said, "where's the car?" So I took my brush and found the VW. The 2-year-old wanted to play in the paint.  -- June

Up the Hill

Field on the edge of Corvallis

-- Jer

Stop me if -- Part 2

As I said, I've been painting. So here are some from late summer and mid-fall, which in Portland was just day before yesterday.

This was actually done sitting on a stool on the sidewalk just up Salmon Street. The tree was very strange -- the orange clusters were some kind of fruit. It was threatening rain.

And this one was begun outside, across the street, but got seriously redone inside. It's big, about 24 by 36, and took a lot of paint. It's called "Looking up."

I did some less successful ones from that same spot, but pleine aire paintings are made to be tossed.

--June

Park Barn

The structure above is part of a small park on the outskirts of Corvallis, Ore.  -- Jer

Stop me if....

I finally took photos of the paintings I've done this fall. Some of them I'm sure I showed here before. Others, I'm sure I haven't. And then there are the hazy recollections -- like all the elders, I tend to repeat myself. But I trust you'll be polite and politic and not point out if I've shown you these before. But just to be polite, I'll say it: stop me if you've seen these....

The studio is beginning to get a bit stuffed.

Above is an abstract that came from a failed representational canvas that I turned upside down. Thank you, Mr. Genn. (Robert Genn runs an online newsletter and in one of his issues, he suggested turning a failed painting upside down and painting over it. Worked for me!)

And this is an in-progress but coming along Cathedral Rock, one of the prominent landscape features at the John Day Fossil Beds. It's the one I dreaded most to paint, but it isn't as bad as I thought it would be.

-- June

Thanksgiving Table

-- Jer

Another Acer another Pseudoplatanus another atropupureum?

I have been walking through slightly different streets over the last week or so, tramping east a couple of blocks south of Salmon on Madison and Main. And in doing so, I found a whole nest of acer pseudoplatanus atropurpureum. Someone took a fit of loving of these trees, it seemed to me, planting two full blocks and up a couple of side streets with them. Having discovered one lonely one on Salmon, I was suddenly surrounded by them.

But wait. Here are seed balls -- unlike the winged seeds that I found earlier.

The last time I published on this, Joan sent me off to Oregon State Extension Service's website. Guess I'd better go there again.

http://tinyurl.com/2pjlke

And, having looked at all the photos of leaves and fruits, I see no maples on that site that have fruit or seeds anything like these spiked balls. Which leads me to believe that I'm looking at a different tree.

The first couple of acer pseudoplatanus that I blogged on were indeed acers -- the photos show the little winged fruit. And I have seen the long clusters of these winged fruits as well. But this one with its spiky balls like horse chestnut sacs has me flummoxed. Again.

So, Del, here's a photo of the not-acer pseudoplatanus atropurpureum. And I was just beginning to be able to spell that, too. By the way, the real a.p.a is also called purpleleaf sycamore or  plane tree maple. But those words don't help if it isn't a maple.

--June

City Park in Carlton

-- Jer

Memories of art I didn't finish, part 3

At some point, I realized that I was only interested in continuing with art that I could see had further potential for other pieces -- meanings that would travel on down the road with me.

These wire pieces were part of a whole solo exhibit of wire pieces that I did. And they weren't necessarily terrible, like some of those from a couple of days ago. But they were just frou-frou -- had no future, no past, not much in the way of on-going interest for me.

I can see how each of these might be great starting places for a different artist, but for me, they just closed down. However, I saved the pillow (constructed with sheer fabric and wire "batting) from this last image; I reworked it as a landscape, which, as some of you know, has been a thus far inexhaustible treasure for my working. --June