Remember that line from The Rescuers? “Faith is like a bluebird, you can’t catch it or buy it or wrap it up tight, but it’s there just the same making things turn out right.”
The Rescuers wasn’t my favorite movie mostly because I found Madam Medusa *very* scary, in a way that McLeach just wasn’t. Yet Rufus the Cat and his little bit of encouragement, as well as about a zillion other lines from the movie, are burned indelibly into my memory.
When people in my generation start losing their memories, they will probably still be able to quote movies.
I always preferred The Rescuers Down Under–I think I may have even seen it first–who knows, I was so little. I mean, Wilbur is fantastic, then of course there is the lovable Australian cast of creatures.
….oh yeah, and I painted a blue bird that I can’t look at without thinking of the Rescuers and subsequently Australia (which is so frighteningly on fire)…
The background is inktense, the bird itself is Daniel Smith watercolors, and the black tips on its wings are gouache. The eye, ever bright, is ink.
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I decided to investigate gauche. I was curious what made it different from watercolor, when most people say, “Oh, it’s like watercolors” when you ask what it is.
The binder is different than watercolor, so it’s just…different…more translucent? More…luminous.
tigre!
I borrowed some of my mother in law’s gauche, and I’ve been enjoying playing with it. Though, apparently it makes me want to paint tigers because that’s all I’ve done.
Yaaaaawn
I’m enjoying how different it is…and how the same. I’ve used the gauche for a base, and then finished the tigers with my brush pens to get really stark lines for the stripes. On the second tiger I also relied on masking fluid. Well….experimented with masking fluid.
I feel like masking fluid is a really interesting tool, and I’m enjoying messing around with it.
Oh, did you notice? I’m still trying to make a tiger half as awesome as my glamour leopard. I’m getting closer. Actually, both of these tigers came out pretty awesome, but are a different medium than the leopard so they still don’t go. I just forget about colored pencils. they still exist. I own them, even.
So how is everyone? September flashed past me at top speed. I cannoooooot believe October is this week.
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I feel like this is infinitely better than never having been
sailing at all, but also sort of sad, because only twice.
Friends of ours had a boat, and invited us out a couple
times to some little lake. I remember basically nothing about the surroundings,
I was enthralled with the feel of floating on the lake, pushed by the breeze,
and how you watched the water. They let me bask on the prow, and I learned
important things like how to duck the boom.
I was probably twelve. It was pretty awesome.
That does, however sum up pretty much everything I know
about sailing. Except for the things learned from movies, and we all know how
reliable those are.
Purple Sail on a Teal sea-available on Redbubble and Etsy
I love the idea of sailing, though, even though I know that
sailing in a big open space like the ocean would probably scare the snot out of
me. I know about the horse latitudes and I’ve seen one too many Big Storm movies,
being swept out to sea means you die! And if you don’t know what you’re doing,
you get swept out to sea.
I’ve been practicing smaller sail boats this year—just a
few, and they look radically different when I don’t have a picture of a
sailboat in front of me.
When I was a teen, I went straight to more complex ships (though, still nothing like a brigandine, think Dawn Treader), and I guess they looked alright? I mean. I was mostly interested in the decorative prow (which was shaped like a horse, obviously). The novel I was working on in high school involved the Prince of the Horse-lords becoming a seafarer. He was a side character, and I think the plot significance of his ship was that he was well traveled—and I think he used it to make alliances with countries to the south. I’m realizing now that was a bit of a wasted opportunity if he didn’t use it that way, and I can’t remember for sure if that’s what he did or not. Wow. Never thought I’d forget anything about that novel.
Red Sails
I love it when tall ships are living museums and you area allowed to board and explore these shockingly small wood vessels that crazy people used to cross the Atlantic.
Black Sails–I need more creative names for these ships.
One of my friends passionately loves tall ships, and he can free sketch gorgeous ones when he’s bored in meetings. I know where to go when I need a ship for my Zare Caspian stories.
What about you? How do you feel about ships? Have you been sailing? Did you like it?
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Remember that love affair with birds? Still going strong.
One of my favorite visitors to the bird feeder (though, lets be honest: almost
everything is my favorite so long as it isn’t the squirrel) is the chickadee. I
remember watching them at bird feeders in touristy locations—they were the only
birds brazen enough to brave the proximity of the crowds. Sparrows are pretty
brazen, too, but they spend their time under picnic tables rather than feeders.
My feeder is dominated by house finches and cardinals, but I
do have goldfinches, titmice, and chickadees…and in the wintertime I see juncos
regularly.
This spring blue jays and starlings started hanging around
more, and I’ve noticed more robins in the front yard.
A sketch, and Inktense scribbles in blue and purple.
It had been a while since I’d noticed a chickadee, and one
came and sat on a branch quite close to the deck doors—I was surprised that I
had forgotten just how tiny chickadees are. I mean, I could probably fit 2 of
them on the palm of my hand if they were so inclined.
Such a loud voice and big personality in such an incredibly
tiny body—specially compared to the other song birds I’d gotten used to seeing.
Blending with a wet paper towel.
I painted this charmer for my mother as a mother’s day gift.
I’m so very pleased with out it came out. #firsttry
Brushing in the branch.
I’d been experimenting for a while with inktense blended
backgrounds, and had a really solid idea in my head of how to use the brush
pens. I guess it shows. Inktense is such a versatile and sometimes befuddling medium.
You’ll be seeing more of it in the coming weeks.
Brush pen, already a little blended. Drying before adding the black.
Have I mentioned that I love the brush pens? Love them. I
love putting the color where I want it deepest and then coaxing it out further.
All blacked! And some sharpie paint pen highlights for the branches and white patches.
I still adore my Daniel Smith watercolors—I’ve developed an affinity for their particular granulation and vividness. I’ve been using them so much I’d forgotten just how special they were. My past weeks challenging myself with artist’s loft supplies have been…eye opening…and challenging. So, successful? You’ll be seeing some of that practice, soon.
Prints of the chickadee are in my Etsy shop, if anyone is interested. Just have 5×7 up there now, but 8×10 could be arranged!
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I don’t know who started it, but I belong to a family of
birders. Compared to a truly avid birder, we aren’t, but compared to the folks
who aren’t sure what a robin is, we’re absolute bird nerds.
I think this is a wren. I should have written it down.
Growing up, we had a couple blue bird houses in back and a
hummingbird feeder hanging off the deck. But my grandparents maintained a
monstrous contraption of a bird feeder, with suet, thistle, sunflower, and
probably a couple other extensions. My grandfather had a longstanding contest
with the local squirrels, but unlike me he was actually pretty successful in
building baffles to keep the little moochers off. It wasn’t until recently that
the trees had gotten too big and too close, and the squirrels could just LEAP
directly onto the feeder.
But for years, the squirrels foraged under the feeder and
the birds fed at their appointed places and splashed in their heated (in
winter) birdbath.
My Grandparents received Birds and Blooms magazine, and whenever we arrived at their house for a visit I would immediately grab a magazine and flip through the pages looking at all the spectacular, brilliantly colored, photography. I never read the full length articles, just the short little blurbs and funny stories. But oh, those pictures.
Phone calls, letters, and conversation centered on the
happenings at the bird feeder—what notable bird visited, or the time the fox
came through with a half-eaten something in his mouth, or the day the hawk
visited and ALL THE BIRDS avoided the yard for hours. I imagine, if there were
a zoologist historian at some point in the future, they would like to have my
grandmother’s letters. But given that they are all written in cursive, they won’t
be able to read them.
The aviary is my favorite part of the zoo, and I always try
to stop and listen to the birds, even though I have only the barest grasp on
which birds I’m hearing. Now that I’m grown and have a house of my own, I have
a sunflower seed feeder.
I hang it off a tree branch I can reach from my deck, so I
had no illusions about keeping the squirrels off—though I do throw cups of
water at them sometimes when I feel like they’ve been on the feeder Every
Single Time I’ve been out there.
I don’t mind at all when the cardinal in the tree outside my
bedroom window scolds loudly because the feeder is empty. I love watching the
housefinches, chickadees and the occasional titmouse pigging out on the feeder.
Blue Jay (those Jays…)
After a lifetime of drawing horses, I was surprised to find an
affinity for birds. I really love painting birds, and half the time I really
love how the paintings come out. I attribute it to the hours and hours I spent
poring over Birds and Blooms, staring at breathtaking hummingbirds, titmice,
tanagers, orioles, chickadees, bluebirds (east and west), blue jays (east and
west)…of course, the more shy, insect eating birds I know essentially nothing
about (there are armies of wrens and warblers and sparrows that I’m only seeing
now because I have an uncle and an aunt who are Real Avid Birders with a Really
Nice Camera).
I’ve started to experiment with different looks and feels
for my bird paintings, and will probably start asking various wildlife and
raptor rehabilitation centers if they are interested in having a piece to auction.
What about you? Do you bird watch? Or are birds those mysterious avian monsters from that Hitchcock movie? Which of these birds did you like best and want to see in the Etsy shop? (The Blue Vireo is already there)
