Synchronized Swimming, A Work in Progress

Synchronized Swimming, 2019, Oil on Board, 12"x24"

Upon returning to direct application of paint, I lightened the blue and eliminated the orange band behind the birds as I didn't feel there was adequate contrast.  

Cornell University's ornithology lab is a great resource of information about birds.  They say the following of the Carolina Wren. 

• Unlike other wren species in its genus, only the male Carolina Wren sings the loud song. In other species, such as the Stripe-breasted Wren of Central America, both members of a pair sing together. The male and female sing different parts, and usually interweave their songs such that they sound like a single bird singing.
• One captive male Carolina Wren sang nearly 3,000 times in a single day.
• A pair bond may form between a male and a female at any time of the year, and the pair will stay together for life. Members of a pair stay together on their territory year-round, and forage and move around the territory together.
• The oldest recorded Carolina Wren was at least 7 years, 8 months old when it was recaptured and rereleased during banding operations in Florida in 2004. It had been banded in the same state in 1997.

Synchronized Swimming

Drawing Preps for Carolina Wren

As our winters have warmed, the Carolina Wren has been a frequent visitor to our Massachusetts backyard for several years.  I've had to discourage it from nesting in our kitchen window box.  It seemed happy enough to relocate to our shed.  But, because of the very harsh winters the past two years, they have not been around.  As the name indicates, they are a southern bird which are sensitive to cold weather. I'm hoping to see a return this spring.  The long, upward-cocked tail, the white eyebrow strip and the burnt sienna and ochre color rewards the eye.  Only the male sings, and with such glee and voracity. My planned composition is to position 10 of them across the bottom of the board where they will be reflected in a band of water. 

Oil on Board, 12"x24"

The board has begun with an application of blues and ochres.  I intend to apply transparent white over this base in another attempt at indirect painting.  The value should be lightened to a great degree.  Thankfully oils are very forgiving.  If all fails, direct painting it will be.  

Chickadees on the High Wire

Chickadees on the High Wire

The Black-Capped Chickadee is a tiny little bird at about 5-6" long with a short neck and large head.  It is very acrobatic, can perch side-ways and upside down, and often does so on slender twigs and weedy stems.  I thought this behavior really lended itself to my "Birds in the Circus" series.  Thus, the little chickadee family became the high wire act in my series.  

The working approach here was to once again use the indirect approach to create the background and the direct method for the birds.  

North River, Marshfield

North River, Marshfield, MA, 2019 20"x20"

The ghost has been vanquished.  It was good to paint a bit larger and use my entire arm to apply paint, not just my fingers as the tiny bird paintings require.  I must give Emily Katherine credit for her photograph that provided a reference source for this painting.  She informs me that the exact location is behind the China Wok in Marshfield.  

Mary Oliver died last month.  Such a great poet...an artist's poet.  With respect and in recognition of her work, I post her poem, The River.

The river

Of my childhood,

That tumbled

Down a passage of rocks

And cut-work ferns,

Came here and there

To the swirl

And slowdown

Of a pool

And I say myself–

Oh, clearly–

As I knelt at one–

Then I saw myself

As if carried away,

As the river moved on.

Where have I gone?

Since then

I have looked and looked

For myself,

Not sure

Who I am, or where,

Or, more importantly, why.

It’s okay–

I have had a wonderful life.

Still, I ponder

Where that other is–

Where I landed,

What I thought, what I did,

What small or even maybe meaningful deeds

I might have accomplished

Somewhere

Among strangers,

Coming to them

As only a river can–

Touching every life it meets–

That endlessly kind, that enduring.

Ghost in North River

North River, 20"x20" Oil on Canvas

I'm noting this stage only because this photograph reveals the grasses that I painted out yesterday.  I don't see this in the original.  But, I'm thinking it will eventually reveal itself and must be painted over again.  Also, I've lightened the remaining foreground grasses.  

North River

North River, Marshfield, 2019 Oil on Canvas, 20"x20"

I removed the grasses in the center of the foreground.  I thought it would work better to lead the eye up and through the canvas to the horizon line if that space was opened.  Those remaining grasses need work.  Darker?  Lighter?  I might repeat the color of the ochre grasses in the background.  

Work in Progress of North River

North River, 24" x 24", Oil on Canvas

The deep cold set in about 3 weeks ago.  Very few days and no nights have been above freezing.  As such, even the brackish and salt water are now freezing.  The North River in Marshfield, MA empties into Massachusetts Bay.  Parts of the River are a Mass Audubon Wildlife Sanctuary. It is primarily a habitat for striped bass and bluefish.  This painting references a photo by Emily Katherine taken in November when ice was just beginning to form. Work still remains in the foreground.