I woke early. I longed for a break from my routine. Tired of working at the computer each day, I showered and thought about how wonderful it would be to feel my bare feet in the sand. Just the thought of wading in the water, I could feel my body sigh with relief.
'OK. Why not?' I thought to myself toweling off. I could just go down the road to that little beach for a bit, put my feet in the sand, paint a little picture and be back in time for breakfast before work!
Barely 6:30, I pulled up and parked, got my paint box out and kicked off my shoes. "Ah! Sand between my toes, sun coming up over the horizon, the distant shoreline just coming into view. I opened up my paintbox, adjusted the telescoping legs into the sand and started squeezing colors onto my palette.
I could feel my body sigh again, as I if were melting into the landscape. The sun began filling the sky and water with color. I too began to glow. Absorbed in the gentle pinks and soft yellows reflected on the river, I flushed with color.
Renewed. I painted. One color at a time, I mixed them in turn. Each, one by one, washed over me. I relaxed and enjoyed the moment.
How could such a simple act ~ transform me so completely? I thought as I ate my breakfast a short while later. Charged up, I was rearing to go face the day!
I was never one to do something for myself, to put myself first. My Self was always at the end of the line. Meeting the demands of my family and work had always been the list which began and ended each day.
At work I was finishing up on my book, preparing to submit it for publication. Checking all the details was always such a painstaking process. To be sure not to miss anything, I proceeded methodically. And then it happened.
Scanning the book for missing details, I saw it flash across my screen. I saw the painting I had made that morning in place of the one on the cover of the book. All at once I knew ~ I was The Suncatcher. Filling my Self with the colors of the earth, I had unknowingly painted the cover for the book!
I couldn't argue. It was right there in front of my nose! Yet, I hadn't seen it a moment before. I hadn't seen my Self at all! I had no thought of recognizing my Self. 'Who me?' I'm not important.' I knew what was important to me. I had important things to do and I best be getting on with them.
So I replaced the image on the front of the book with the new painting. This meant, of course, that the red background of the cover needed to go, along with the inside of the book as well! Back to work.
In the weeks which followed, my inner world changed along with the colors of the text and graphics in the book. Following the process, one color at a time, I worked it out. Throughout, I still had reservations about the painting on the front cover. I didn't like the colors. Something was dull, but I was not sure exactly how to fix it. So I left it alone.
Then one morning I woke from a dream. With the dream came the revelation that I was blue! A blue filter of despair had overcome me when my son had stopped speaking to me. For over a year, I had been excluded and unacknowledged by a person who I loved dearly. For thirty years, I had invested everything I had in caring for him. Now every painting in my studio was blue!
'I have to break out of this blue cast,' I thought to myself. I had promised twenty paintings for a solo show the following month. There was no time to waste. I knew what I had to do. I opened up the email which had been waiting in my inbox and typed a response to my son. 'I can't talk to you like this as if nothing has happened.' I began. 'You broke my heart when you stopped sharing your life with me. I have been depressed and blue. Everything I paint is covered with my blue cloud of sadness."
I clicked send. I didn't expect a reply. I didn't strike out or blame. I simply spoke my true feelings, the ones I had choked back all year. And when I did, what I knew would happen ~ happened. Inspiration flowed profusely. I released a boatload of backed up energy. That same afternoon in the studio, Creative Spirit filled my paintings with color.
Day by day, each painting took it's turn on the easel. One by one I repainted each landscape, filling it with vibrant color ~ balancing my blues with warmth and my intensity with bright lights. Canvas by canvas, my pages shone from within . Dreams came, showing me another side of my son's life which I hadn't seen from my injured place.
Then it happened. The Suncatcher jumped back up on my easel. A soft glaze of warmth filled the blue clouds in the sky. Gentle pink washed across the water and rays of hope shone down from above. Feeling it run through my body, I whispered, 'Thank you!' aloud to my Self.
I never dreamed I would paint so little land and with so much open space, such a delicate balance of warm and cool. I never envisioned a painting of a funny little boat floating in shallow water adorning the front of my book.
Then I saw my Self; that funny little boat floating on deep emotion, watching my Son rise. The most important thing I had done all year ~ was to go barefoot in the sand before work that day. It brought me the peace and forgiveness I had prayed for. My distant shoreline was indeed coming into very clear view.
One by one, every painting in my book was replaced. Each painting fit perfectly with the poem I had written months ago. As if each had been painted for that purpose alone, they all worked together harmoniously speaking my poem, 'If I am the earth.' To have them heal my broken heart and illustrate my book, then leave me standing here with a message ~ Barefoot in the Sand Before Work! ~ is simply Divine.
Dream Paint Flourish Channel
Barefoot in the Sand Before Work
Shifting Focus Shows Itself
Unaware that anything unusual is going on, I simply did my routine things of setting up the easel, squeezing out my usual colors on the palette, getting out my usual brushes and wearing my usual visor to shield my eyes from the sun. In the mundane rigor of performing these simple tasks, I relaxed into the dunes as if on cue and followed instructions from the Muse.
What attracted my eye this evening were the soft patterns of light and shadow across the dunes and the brilliant contrasts of colors between the blue water and warm glowing sunlight in the grasses and sand. I did my thing and went home satisfied. Looking back a week later I see something which never crossed my mind that evening.
Tide Coming In, oil on canvas, 12" x 16", DETAILSMathews County, Virginia
7/13/08 7:30 pm
After my last few experiences painting on the beach, I was anxious to go out and do it again. This time I walked a bit further down the beach and faced in the other direction. The evening sunlight was stronger, yet soft. I wanted to capture the glow and have a chance to explore the wonderful contrasts between warm sunlight and cool shadows.
This view shows the same house as an earlier painting (House on the Point), but this time I am positioned differently.
Here I have clipped it in so you can see them in comparison. If interpreting the painting as if it were a dream, you can see the shift in focus from being 'out there on the point' to being 'back in the dunes watching the tide coming in.' Can you feel this shift between the two? Where are you most comfortable?
I have to say that I do see myself in this shift of focus. The shift which occurred while painting A Thousand Voices did alter my position and focus. I am no longer feeling so vulnerable 'out there on point' ~ rather I feel rested, easy-going and cared for, knowing all I have to do is be here receiving the incoming tide.
A Thousand Voices
I had always wished my 'job' could be as simple as getting on the bus and driving my riders to where they wanted to go. At the end of the day, I could go home and rest. Simple. No thinking. Nothing to figure out or worry about. This is what happened the day I painted this canvas. I discovered my dream job as a 'bus driver' just waiting for me to get in there and ask, 'so where are we going today?'
In the process of letting this painting come to be, I learned that I could paint the same location day after day and never grow tired of it. On the contrary, painting in the same location opened a new door to seeing in a new, more subtle way. And in the end, I discovered that the routine nature of simply setting up my easel, squeezing out the paints was like driving a bus. I make sure the equipment is in order, come to work with an open mind and discover where we are going today.
Bethel Beach Preserve
Mathews County, Virginia
7/11/08 6:00 pm
I was hesitant to go out and paint. There had been thunderstorms every afternoon for a week. On this day, the sky was overcast, though the radar map looked clear. So I headed out wondering if the skies would cooperate.
I walked down the beach quite a way before settling myself atop this dune. I was amazed at the view. Turning around in all directions , I had 360 degrees of stunning landscape. Choosing this view, I knew I had discovered My subject and that I would return many times to paint in all directions.
Without the bright sunlight, the subtle tones in the sky were easier to see. Not blinded by the light, I was comfortable just playing along with the sky for quite some time. Each time the sun gently lit another area, I was able to add yet another soft color and nuance.
This turned out to be a much slower paced painting than one in which the light is changing quickly. This day I had all the time in the world to play and enjoy the colors. As I was finishing up, the sun broke through the clouds and lit up a few of the grasses in the foreground. I said thank you aloud and brushed them in! I felt as though I had been set up by Mother Nature, to be there and be treated for the afternoon to a delightful, restful painting meditation with my own personal fanfare for the lovely gift.
The title came to me a few days later. Not knowing what to call it, I stood in front of the painting and asked! "A Thousand Voices" leaped to mind. 'Yes, ' I thought. It is as though many others were speaking through me. I certainly never expected to be able to say this on my own! What a partnership indeed!
Who Gets The Last Word?
Knowing when to stop is the biggest part of learning to paint well. It separates the men from the boys, so to speak. The signal for stopping is often very subtle. Like a whisper, the Muse quietly fades away. We are left not knowing what to do! We think, we scratch our heads, we look at the canvas ~ searching for what to do next. It couldn’t possibly be over so soon. Like a wonderful romance novel, we don’t want it to end!
And so we come up with ‘one more thing’ to fix this or that. One more brush stroke to change the ending, ever so slightly. And suddenly we realize we are in there by ourselves!
“Oh, my gosh! I have messed it up! Now what?”
See what happened last night when I painted at the Bethel Beach Preserve in Mathews County, Virginia. This time the Creator got in the Last Word ~ and I got a nice little painting! The preserve is lovely marshland with a nice long sandy beach along the western shore of the Chesapeake Bay. I walked down the beach and set up my easel in the dunes. It was especially lovely as I had the whole place to myself!
Mathews County, Virginia
7/9/08 7:00 pm
I used a little 6” x 12” canvas which I had prepared with an underpainting of Cadmium Red mixed with a bit of white. I like the warm underglow which it gives to my skies. I waited until the sun was going down to begin my painting because I wanted to capture the long shadows across the marsh and the glowing light.
By establishing my shadow colors first, I anchored my imagery to the earth. It is important to do this or the painting will appear to float, never really allowing the viewer to get his feet on the ground and feel as though he is actually experiencing being there with me. In this case, the shadow colors were olive greens in the distant tree line and the dark lavender shadows in the marsh. Doing this also gives me a chance to get myself grounded in my painting as well. This is important if I want the creative sparks to flow.
Once this is done, I connect with the Light by painting in the sky. Starting at the earth along the horizon, I work a pale Cadmium Yellow and Cadmium Red mixture into the edge of the tree line. I am not to concerned here about being careful, as I will be coming back over it with other colors. The rapid speed of my brush and the calligraphy it makes as I work are more important than being perfect.
I grade the colors of the sky, gently mixing in a bit of Cerulean Blue as I go up into the sky. As I am finishing the sky, I brush in a slightly more intense version of that blue into the water. This will be the undertone of the water. The last bit of anchoring is done with the undertones of the marsh grasses. I used a mixture of Sap Green and Yellow Ochre, quickly brushed across those areas of the canvas. This completes my layout. I have grounded both myself and my viewers to the lowest common denominator hues in the landscape. And I have connected with the Light (the Muse), by establishing the placement of light colors in the composition.
Now all there is left to do is play around with the details. A few strokes of warmer or cooler tones bring out details in the distant tree line. Warm highlights across the marsh grass and a few on the sand ~ are all that were necessary. I have a tiny, thin line brush which I use to add a few details and my signature. Try not to get carried away with this, as it quickly becomes too much. If I let The Creator have the Last Word, the painting stays fresh and bright!
DOROTHY FAGAN paints plein air, writes and teaches painting and creativity. Her work can be seen at www.dorothyfagan.com
Head in the Clouds, Feet in the Sand
Bethel Beach Preserve
Mathews County, Virginia
7/8/08 6:00 pm
When I quit work yesterday, my back hurt and my legs were stiff from sitting at the computer all day. I knew I needed to get out and move some energy. I had to get my feet in the sand and just cut loose! So I went out to the beach to paint.
I had the place to myself. Not a soul was there! I took my shoes off and put my easel over my shoulder and walked along the water. This is where the Chesapeake Bay meets the eastern edge of Mathews County. The tide was nearly out and the sun getting lower in the sky.
I set up my easel in the dunes facing south. A good stiff breeze kept the bugs away and I was happy just doing my thing. I used a Russian linen canvas, fairly good size which I had primed with Venetian red gesso and been saving for just the right opportunity. Today was the day.
As I slowly scrubbed in the distant line of trees and the shadows of the dark marsh grasses, the tension in my body dissolved. I forgot all about the computer as I gently worked the colors from the horizon up through the clouds and into the pale blue sky. By starting with my feet in the sand, feeling like I did when I was 18 ~ this nice little painting just fell onto my canvas for me.
I had a ball playing with the light and shadow, fiddling with the grasses, the ins and outs of the water and bushes each bit in a slightly different hue than the next. And by the time was setting my hue had mellowed too. I drove home for dinner while watching the sun lighting up the remaining clouds from below the horizon. It's really nice to fall asleep on the couch fully awake ~ if you know what I mean!
Thank you, Creative Spirit, for a splendid afternoon!
A Quiet Morning WITHOUT a Thought
When I don't paint, I become lethargic and depressed. Painting connects me with my creative energy. It energizes me, makes me feel vital and allows me to know that I am doing something about the way the world is. So rather than lying in bed this morning waiting for the sun to rise ~ I came out to the tip of Mathews County where the water and the land come together at New Point.
New Point, Virginia 7/3/08 6:30 am
The sun was waiting for me when I arrived. Just over the horizon on the Chesapeake Bay, it shone across the marsh begging to be painted! And so I began with a little 4 inch square panel ~ just a little thumbnail painting to wake up with.
Just getting warmed up, I set up another canvas and gave it another go. Working quickly, I wanted just the fleeting sparkle of the sun on the water in the marsh. I felt so energized by the sparkle, I wanted my painting to have just that. Sparkle doesn't spark if it has been restarted! The first spark is it! I caught it here and moved on to the next panel, so I could have another try.
I wanted to keep the soft, loose feel I had accomplished in the series of paintings last night. Again, I worked very quickly to capture the joyful moment of the sun in this particular position, shinning the way it was just above the houses and into the marsh.
When I can work quickly WITHOUT thinking ~ it is much easier for my Creative Spirit to speak through my brush without all my questions and concerns getting in the way. And that's how this one worked.
By this time you can see how the sun had moved further to the right and higher above the houses on the horizon. I love this temporal element in the process of painting. When I stay present in the moment to moment of this 'conversation' with Creative Spirit, I can hear the wonderful suggestions given to me along the way.
Several examples of this came in the last few moments of painting. The flock of birds flew across the horizon calling to be included. And as soon as I responded and put them in ~ the little fishing boat moved into the cove and made it's way into the marsh. I quickly nudged it in with a bit of a lavender shadow. Being mindful of not wanting to have the last word (and talk over Creative Spirit), I signed my name and took the canvas down quickly.
July 3rd, oil on canvas, 10" x 20", $1800 DETAILSThree Views of The Light House
New Point Light
Mathews County, Virginia
7/2/08 5:00 pm
Why paint a view of the lighthouse? On this evening, I simply wanted to be out on the water someplace where I could see the sky and feel the colors changing around me. It had been five days since I painted and I was feeling lethargic and ill tempered. I knew I needed to just be out there with the colors all around me soaking them up. And this was a great place to do that.
Interpreting paintings is much like interpreting dreams. Each viewer interprets what the images symbolize to them. A dream or painting is both universal AND personal. In this first view, I am the Light House. The house is a symbol of where my spirit dwells. The Light is Creative Spirit shinning through me.
This first painting establishes the Light house as the context for the thread of interpretation. Now, watch what happens as the 3-painting story unfolds. (Note that I was not consciously thinking about all this when I was painting! I was simply out there to enjoy myself! I am just now getting the meaning in these paintings as I write.)
Now I don't know if you can see yourself in that description or not. I can say that I have turned around my own point of view. When I look at things one way I see my tide going out. And when I turn around and look at things another way, I see my tide coming in. I can choose which way I want to see things! The two duck blinds add another layer of meaning to the 'house' concept. If my spirit dwells in the duck blind, then perhaps I am hidden, unheard, blind and ducking for cover? I have experienced being that too. When I wasn't painting over the last five days ~ that was me! And now here I am seeing myself in paint. Oh my gosh, what next?
Taking all that into account, now the third view makes a totally different statement. I painted this third view with my feet firmly on the ground. No longer standing on the dock, I moved my easel to the base of the pier. Looking across the foreground and marsh, I am now on eye level with the duck blind. It's presence more clearly acknowledged, it no longer blocks my view of the distant houses. The birds overhead have moved closer into range completing the circle between the duck blind and the distant houses.
The biggest shift in this third view however, is in the color. This painting is soft, warm and glowing. And also with me. Be the time I returned home for dinner, I was feeling restored. My soft, warm radiant glow had returned. We had a nice dinner, feeling rested and accomplished by the day. And so the title, Free as a Bird.
Free as a Bird, oil on canvas, 11" x 14", DETAILS Against the Odds
Bethel Beach Preserve
Mathews County, Virginia
6/27/08 7:00 pm
I had in mind painting a sunset this night, so I headed out to the beach where I can look back across the sand and marsh into the setting sun. When I got to the beach however, the sun was not positioned exactly where I thought it would be. I was remembering where it was in the late fall and had forgotten to think about it's position being so much further north this time of year.
I found this view across the marsh from atop the dune. Instead of looking into the sun, I was facing south with the sun to my right. As I set up my easel, a few diligent green heads were sampling my ankles. Talking aloud I said, 'I need a bit of wind to take these flies away!' The wind picked up and I was encouraged. As I began painting though, the wind was intermittent and the flies returned. I had not realized my repellent was empty, so I was at the mercy of the wind. About the time I was getting discouraged, three young women came walking up the beach. They offered me several good squirts of their insect repellent and I was good to go!
I think the important part for me this night was in asking for what I needed. So many times I have been hesitant to make a simple request ~ and choosing instead to go home without a word. This night something was very different. This night I asked. This night I held onto my Faith that I would be taken care of. And this night I allowed my brush to speak too.
The Suncatcher
Hallieford, Virginia
6/26/08 6:30 am
I woke from a dream at 4:00 this morning. Fully awake, I got up to write it down. When I stopped writing it was 6:00. Boy when it flows, it really flows. Too awake to go back to bed, I thought of all the things I had to do ~ and then thought how wonderful it would be if I would just take myself out on the beach to put my bare feet in the sand and watch the sun coming up before doing all the rest. So I did.
As I finished up the painting, the tide began to run. The wind picked up and the sun broke through the morning's mist.
Now, what I want to know is why I was so startled to discover at the END of my busy day of completing edits on my book ~ that this painting needed to go on the front cover? Why did I have a painting of an overcast day on the cover of a book called The Suncatcher? Because I didn't know The Suncatcher was me until AFTER this painting appeared on my easel that morning!
Gentle Layers of Color Add Up to Impasto Painting of the Marsh
Bethel Beach Preserve
Mathews County, Virginia
6/23/08 Noon
It was overcast when I arrived here to paint today. I selected the same spot where I painted last week, anxious to see how the change in time of day and overcast skies would show up on my canvas. Two other chages would also come into play; today I would be using a larger canvs 16" x 20 instead of the small 9 x 12 I painted last time. And most importantly, I would be using my 'pastel' technique which I adapted at Horn Harbor the other day when I forgot my fresh bottle of medium.
Gentle Day, oil on canvas, 16" x 20", DETAILSUsing the same thin scrubbing I use when I lay out a pastel, I did the same with my oils. Allowing the paint to build up slowly, I layered in each color field one by one. By the time I was done, the paint had developed a nice impasto feel.
