fbpx

Why I teach

Main Street, Owl’s Head, oil on archival canvasboard, $1623 includes shipping and handling in continental US. This is one of the places we go during our July workshop.

With some trepidation, I handed Monday’s Words and Pictures class over to my student Rebecca Bense. She led us in an impromptu neurographic art exercise. I know, love and trust Becky, but Iā€™ve had enough therapy to be guarded about diving into my subconscious. By the end of the exercise, I thought it was a good way to dig deeper into the meaning of art. And, since I seemed to have drawn a hag-ridden self-portrait (below) I was startled by the result.

My first essay into neurographic art. I know it’s a self-portrait because of the corkscrew curl. Yikes.

Mondayā€™s class is a very small group, and Iā€™m teaching it because the content is important to me. If I used the customary pedagogical method and chased around questioning and critiquing, nobody would have a momentā€™s peace. Instead, Iā€™m developing ideas with, rather than for, the class. Itā€™s fantastic fun for me, and I think Iā€™ll probably learn something new about teaching.

A teacher is first a learner

I didnā€™t really have mastery of my craft until I learned to break it down in discrete steps and describe it to others. After all, that is what school is all about: repeating what one has learned. Not every artist is a good teacher; I know some very fine painters who are inarticulate. But when teaching is going well, itā€™s a two-way street. Iā€™m constantly surprised and amazed by what I learn from my students, as Mondayā€™s class demonstrated.

Early Spring on Beech Hill, oil on canvasboard, Carol L. Douglas, 12X16, $1449 framed includes shipping in continental US. This is a favorite place to teach and paint.

 Why does anyone teach?

The obvious answer is that teaching provides a steadier income than just selling paintings, which can be a ā€˜canary in a coalmineā€™ careerā€”great when the market is up, dismal when itā€™s down. But nobody survives teaching if their motivations donā€™t run deeper. ā€œBecause you like telling people what to do,ā€ my smart-aleck daughter suggested. Thatā€™s probably partly true.

Good teaching is akin to preaching. They both require a belief in and passion for the subject. Building on that, you harness communication skills, technical ability, and human connection, but theyā€™re all secondary to that passion.

Blueberry barrens, Clary Hill, oil on canvas, 24X36, $3985 framed includes shipping and handling in continental US.

True relationships

After a few decades of teaching and writing about painting, Iā€™ve shared a lot about my life. My students have done the same. If a painter takes one of my online classes, theyā€™re signing up for 18 hours of ensemble learning. If they take one of my workshops, itā€™s a full week. No, weā€™re not gossiping or chattering idly. We concentrate on painting, but that is a highly personal subject. We canā€™t help but make connections.

Although I once considered myself a private person, Iā€™m now comfortable with this. For one thing, these days thereā€™s very little anyone can blackmail me with.

Teaching has a long reach

I have students who have gone on to professional art careers. Some now teach, and some, like Cassie Sano, are successful writer-illustrators. Student Mark Gale works in an art program with homeless people in Austin, TX. Some, like architect Kamillah Ramos, will outlive me.

Like most artists, I went into art thinking I would make objects of lasting beauty. What if the actual product turned out to be future artists?

(I realize with a start that weā€™re within a month of my July workshop here in Rockport. If youā€™re considering it, you want to register soon, since itā€™s both close and nearly filled up. My other workshops are listed below.)

Reserve your spot now for a workshop in 2025:

Monday Morning Art School: why art?

Spring Greens, 8X10, oil on archival canvasboard, $652 framed includes shipping and handling in continental US.

Knowing why we do something helps us figure out how to do something. Today, I want to get down to the low-level programming of the art calling.

Why art?

I sometimes tell people that if I wasnā€™t a painter, Iā€™d be a greeter at Wal-Mart. I no longer have conventional marketable skills. Iā€™ve focused on painting for so long that everything else has fallen by the wayside.

That skirts around the real issue of what holds me here. Iā€™m a visual thinker and a maker, and more than a bit didactic. The confluence of these can only be art.

Why are you compelled to create art? Your reasons will be different from mine, but are no less valid.

Apple Tree with Swing, 16X20, oil on archival canvasboard, $2029 framed includes shipping and handling in continental US.

Has what youā€™re doing ever been done before?

Not only has what I do been done repeatedly, it continues to be done by many painters who are just as competent as me.

On the other hand, nobody is doing exactly what Iā€™m doing, because nobody has the same combination of brushwork and worldview.

As much as we prize novelty, AI points out the danger of putting all our efforts into style. Style can be easily copied. Content canā€™t.

I could drill down and tell you how my painting varies from my peersā€™ in terms of focus, worldview, color, drafting and brushwork. Thatā€™s a helpful exercise, especially when Iā€™m feeling low.

How is your work unique? If you canā€™t answer this, is it because youā€™re drafting in a mentorā€™s or a movementā€™s slipstream? If so, what are you going to do about that?

Fog over Whiteface Mountain, 11X14, $1087 framed includes shipping and handling in continental US.

How do you work?

Iā€™m a big believer in routine. It frees me up to concentrate on work, and I believe the human brain settles down into productivity fastest when it works at the same time every day. Others have told me this is stultifying.

What is the work style that works best for you? Do you go on painting tears, or do you work methodically? Why does your system work for you?

Whatā€™s your ideal working environment?

Spaces like Francis Baconā€™s studio make me agitated almost to the point of being physically ill. I need order to think. Tidying is, to me, a time when I let my subconscious mind resolve its confusions while my conscious mind does the important work of putting things away.

For others, this is unnecessarily proscriptive, and I know painters who never get past cleaning to do any work at all. Whatā€™s your ideal working environment?

Owl’s Head, 11X14, oil on archival canvasboard, $1087 framed includes shipping and handling in continental US.

What is your creative process?

For plein air, I look, do a value sketch, and then transfer that to my canvas. For studio work, I start with an idea in my sketchbook and repeatedly refine it. Only then come reference photos and the business on the canvas.

Iā€™ve occasionally tried to mix this up by copying my palsā€™ work system, but that has never worked for me. (Nobody ever called me a good student, just a good teacher.)

Do you have a rock-solid process? Are you willing to change it up? Is your answer a function of how long youā€™ve been painting?

What do you want to think about next?

I think Iā€™ll be perfectly content to paint landscapes until I die, but nobody can say that for sure. Right now, Iā€™m interested in the nexus between words and pictures. If nothing comes of that, itā€™s no loss. Iā€™ve tried a lot of things that havenā€™t panned out, and I always learn from them.

If you were going to expand your media or subject matter, what would you add?

Reserve your spot now for a workshop in 2025:

Come to Maine for the sea air

Home Port, 18X24,, $2318 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

I arrived at home, finally, at 5:43 yesterday evening. Iā€™ve been gone for a long time and been to a lot of placesā€”to Manchester, Liverpool, Lancashire, Yorkshire, Edinburgh, Fife, and then home through Reykjavik and Boston. From there I went to Albany, NY, where I saw my family and collected my dog.

ā€œWhy donā€™t you move to Vermont?ā€ my daughter asked me. (She knows I wonā€™t return to New York.) Iā€™m extremely touched that my kids want me nearby, but I love my life here in Rockport.

When I was in Fife, I could feel my sinuses open with the sea air; I felt as if I were home again, for at least a few hours.

It was unbearably hot and humid on Wednesday in the Hudson Valley, reminding me powerfully of one reason I left New York. Itā€™s just as cold in upstate New York as in Maine in the winter, but summers here are so much nicer. Itā€™s that sea air, which moderates temperatures.

Yesterday morning, however, I hiked to a waterfall along Hannacroix Creek, where I let the dogs romp in the stream while I swatted mosquitoes. That reminded me of just how beautiful New York is. Itā€™s a study in contrasts and always leaves me feeling conflicted.

Waterfall on Hannacroix Creek in Greene County, NY.

I arrived home to a beautiful thick fog and mizzle. It was 59Ā° F. and I could feel my dry skin relax and ease back into its usual healthy state. If you want to escape the heat of summer, I recommend Maine. (And if you paint, you can take one of my workshops.) If you have allergies, sea air is a balm.

I like Home Port for its view, but I also like its neighbor, a lovely lady whose house has figured in several of my paintings, including Forsythia at Three Chimneys. Sheā€™s what I aspire to be at her age: self-reliant and forthright.

Five plein air challenges to make you a better painter

Lobster Wharf, 8X16, oil on archival linenboard, framed, $903 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

Here are five plein air challenges that will help us all loosen up for the summer painting season. Enjoy!

1. Limited Palette Challenge

Objective: Use a limited palette of only three five colors plus white.

In oils (or other solid media:

In watercolor:

Benefits: This challenge forces us to focus on color mixing, understand color relationships, and create harmony in our paintings. It also helps improve our ability to convey light and atmosphere with a simplified color range.

Regrowth and regeneration (Borrow Pit #4), 6X8, oil on archival canvasboard, $348 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

2. Time Constraint Challenge

Objective: Complete a painting in under an hour. Then do the same subject again in under thirty minutes.

Benefits: Working quickly encourages decisive decisions and helps us capture the essence of the scene without overworking.

3. Different Times of Day Challenge

Objective: Paint the same scene at different times of the day (morning, midday, evening).

Benefits: This challenge enhances our observation skills and understanding of how light changes throughout the day. It teaches us to depict different lighting conditions, shadows, and atmospheric effects.

Brooding Skies, 8X10, oil on archival canvasboard, $522

4. Weather Conditions Challenge

Objective: Paint the same scene in sunny, rainy, and/or cloudy conditions. (As they say, if you donā€™t like the weather, wait fifteen minutes.)

Benefits: Painting under different weather conditions pushes us to adapt to the changing environment and learn to represent different atmospheres and moods.

“Thunder Bay Freighter,” Thunder Bay, Ontario

5. Same scene, different subjects

Objective: After choosing your view, paint two different studies focusing on two different subjects within that view. If thereā€™s something in the view that youā€™d typically shy away from, try making it a focal point. (Except trash; nobody wants to look at trash.)

Benefits: This discourages us from trying to cram everything into a painting. It forces us to spend more time on composition.

Some quick tips for success

If you havenā€™t already done so, itā€™s time to set up your kit for summer. One of my resolutions for this year is to repack my kit every time I get home from a session, rather than fussing with it in the morning when I should be painting.

Spend time sitting with your scene before you start painting. The more you look, the better youā€™ll paint.

Consistency is key. The more you paint, the easier it gets. Don’t get discouraged; think of every painting, good or bad, as a learning opportunity.

Assuming all went well, I got back to Boston last night from my lovely, long, blister-inducing hike. Laura should still be running the office. Just email me as usual if you have questions or problems registering for a class or workshop. (Who am I kidding? She fixes all that stuff anyway.)

Reserve your spot now for a workshop in 2025:

Monday Morning Art School: how to clean your brushes

Two of my most visited posts are Sandy demonstrating how to fold a plastic bag and my Youtube video on how to clean your brushes. With the advent of plastic bag bans you may have other ways to deal with your plein air trash, but we all still need to clean our brushes.

Itā€™s especially hard to keep oil painting brushes nice when youā€™re on the road. Thereā€™s seldom a utility sink available, and itā€™s not nice to repay your hosts by washing brushes in their kitchen sink. In a pinch, I shower with mine, since theyā€™re usually no dirtier than I am. Sometimes I wrap them in plastic and hope for the best. And that best, after a week in a hot car, usually isnā€™t very good.

Leaving dirty brushes in a hot car is a crime against art.

A cardinal rule of brush care is to never let brushes stand on their bristlesā€”in mineral spirits or water. That includes during painting. Thatā€™s one reason why a small, swinging solvent holder is a great ideaā€”it tips over if you leave a brush in it.

Watercolor brushes

In general, watercolor brushes need to be rinsed when youā€™re done painting, shaped back into their proper form, then allowed to dry flat. They will dry just fine in a brush roll, but not in a sealed plastic container.

Pay particular attention to rinsing them if you paint with saltwater or use alcohol to prevent freezing.

Unless youā€™ve done something very silly, thereā€™s never any reason to use soap; in fact, itā€™s not good for fine hair brushes.

One of the nicest gifts I’ve ever received was this set of Rosemary & Co. oil brushes.

Oil and acrylic brushes

For oils (and to a lesser degree, acrylics) brush care is serious business. Itā€™s possible to clean acrylic paint out with running water alone, but soap wonā€™t hurt hog bristle or synthetic brushes and it will save water.

Synthetic brushes are generally easier to clean than hog bristle brushes. This is the upside of synthetic brushesā€™ downside; they carry less pigment, so thereā€™s less pigment to clean out.

Soap is not detergent.

Soap starts with a natural fat to which an alkali (like lye) is added. Detergents are synthetic cleaning compounds. They often have additional surfactants added to increase their oil-stripping qualities. Both allow oil to be lifted out with water, but soaps are gentler. Thatā€™s also why we donā€™t use detergent to wash our hair; itā€™s too good at removing oils.

Donā€™t leave brushes standing around dirty

The secret of brush-cleaning is to get to them fast. Get as many solids as you can out with mineral spirits; that will prevent clogging your sink. Thoroughly coat them with soap, inside and out, and wash them with a rag, not your bare hand. (Even the least-toxic of pigments shouldnā€™t be ground into your skin.) The brush is clean when the water runs clear, and not before.

If you left your brushes standing and theyā€™ve started to harden up, detergent wonā€™t work any better than soap at softening the mess. I sometimes pre-treat them with coconut oil when I canā€™t get the paint out. 

Donā€™t expect heavily-used brushes to last forever. Theyā€™re made of hair and they wear out. In fact, most of my filberts started life as flats. But by cleaning your brushes regularly, youā€™ll ensure that they will last as long as is possible.

Mary’s soap.

A plug for my daughterā€™s soap

My daughter Mary makes my brush soap. I offer it (in small batches) to my readers. Maryā€™s been offline as she prepped and sold her house, but sheā€™s got her soap lab up and running again. You can order her soap here. ā€œYour brush soap is seriously great. Better than Murphyā€™s or the pink stuff from Jerryā€™s. I can always ā€˜get a little more outā€™ with yours,ā€ said my student, Mark Gale.

Iā€™m in Britain on another lovely, long, blister-inducing hike. Iā€™ve turned my phone off and while Iā€™m gone, Laura will be running the office. Just email me as usual if you have questions or problems registering for a class or workshop. (Who am I kidding? She fixes all that stuff anyway.)

Reserve your spot now for a workshop in 2025:

Am I getting a little homesick?

Downtown Rockport, 14X18, oil on archival canvasboard, framed, $1594 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

I treasure the time I get to spend with my friend Martha. Since she moved to Scotland it takes planning and effort to see her. And although we have great hiking trails in the US, there arenā€™t little pubs and hostelries along the way. Iā€™m too old to carry my world on my back. Until I get a burro, my long hikes are going to be in other countries.

As much fun as this trip has been, however, Iā€™m starting to feel a little homesick. This is the downtown block of my home village on the Maine coast.

I painted this with Ken DeWaard. Like everyone else, I can sometimes convince myself I can buy my way into better brushwork (or color, or texture, or whatever). This is, of course, a snare and a delusion.

I admire Kenā€™s brushwork, so I decided I decided Iā€™d see what he was using for brushes. Sadly, it was the same composite of new and old, pristine and slightly-sticky that was in my own kit. There are no silver bullets. (And nor is my brushwork so terrible; we just want what the other guy has.)

ā€œWhat is that arc in the water?ā€ my husband asked. Itā€™s the rooster-tail of a lobster boat coming in fast.  That pegs the time as early afternoon.

Iā€™ve been in Britain on another lovely, long, blister-inducing hike. Iā€™ve turned my phone off and while Iā€™m gone, Laura will be running the office. Just email me as usual if you have questions or problems registering for a class or workshop. (Who am I kidding? She fixes all that stuff anyway.)

What is your network?

Hiking, 6X8, oil on archival canvasboard, $435 includes shipping in continental US.

One of the nicest things about being an artist is avoiding the world of business-speak. Still, even artists must network.

Networking is sometimes described in negative terms: cronyism, the old boy network, or nepotism. But we human beings network constantly and naturally; weā€™re very much pack animals at heart.

The Wreck of the SS Ethie, oil on canvas, 18X24, $2318 framed, includes shipping and handling in continental US.

Itā€™s not what you know, itā€™s who you know

Like most people, my network starts with my family. Beyond that, I have three circles of friends: my art-world friends, my church buddies, and my trail buddies. Any overlap evolves naturally. Iā€™ll invite all my friends to openings, for example, but I donā€™t expect any of them to buy from me. However, some of my best opportunities have come from non-artist friends.

Our networks change over time depending on our interests. I no longer run a community garden or live in a neighborhood, so those circles have quietly faded away.

What is your network? Is there overlap between your circles of friends? How much of your social interactions happen in the real world vs. on social media?

Why is networking important for artists?

From a business standpoint, the value of networking is obvious: it exposes you to opportunities like gallery representation, exhibitions, residencies, grants, and sales.

Networking also exposes you to different ideas about art, including feedback and critique on your own work. In addition to helping you make concrete changes, this can give you insights into how your work is perceived by others. Iā€™m always keen to see how my work looks in natural settings rather than the artificial environment of a studio or gallery.

I took classes and workshops for decades. As a young mother, they were my best route to meeting other artists. As I struggled to create a professional practice for myself, those friends provided support and encouragement. (And of course I learned a lot.)

Deadwood, oil on linen, 30X40, $5072.00 framed, includes shipping and handling in continental US.

It can go wrongā€¦ or right

I once belonged to a womenā€™s art critique group. In theory it was a safe space where we could discuss ways to overcome the art-world bias against women. In practice, it devolved into a bitch session. Groups like that poison your attitude, so theyā€™re worse than useless.

My most helpful critics are my family. Most of them have some art background, but more importantly, they have no ego in the art world. If they tell me, ā€œThat doesnā€™t look right,ā€ I listen.

Visibility

Iā€™m always enthusiastic about attending openings (or any other public events) until the time comes to put my pants on. Then I feel a sudden, pressing need to stay home. Like many artists, Iā€™m a recluse at heart. But supporting your peers is important. Itā€™s also one of the best ways you can increase your own visibility within the art community.

The Late Bus, oil on archival canvasboard, 6X8, $435.00 framed, includes shipping and handling in continental US.

Then thereā€™s social media

There are people I first met through social media whoā€™ve morphed into real world friends. There are other friends with whom I can only stay connected through my computer or phone. Quit kvetching about social media and use it to grow your following, showcase your work, connect with other artists, and engage with the public.

Show your work

Iron sharpens iron. I loathe rejection as much as the next guy, but the process of submitting work to juried shows and events expands our reach and connectionsā€¦ and makes us better painters.

Reach out

Remember when we used to contact each other IRL? Itā€™s so alien to me now that I sometimes forget that walking in to a gallery or studio and engaging with the human being I find there is the first and best way to forge genuine relationships.

Iā€™m in Britain on another lovely, long, blister-inducing hike. Iā€™ve turned my phone off and while Iā€™m gone, Laura will be running the office. Just email me as usual if you have questions or problems registering for a class or workshop. (Who am I kidding? She fixes all that stuff anyway.)

Reserve your spot now for a workshop in 2025:

Monday Morning Art School: This is a post about watching paint dry

Chemistryā€”which I took fifty years agoā€”was my worst subject, and now I spend much of my time thinking about it. Life always gets the last laugh.

ā€œHow long does oil paint take to dry?ā€ is one of the most frequent questions Iā€™m asked. I made this video to answer the question. Itā€™s part of The Heart of the Painting, step six of Seven Protocols for Oil Painters.

For those of you playing along at home, I recorded the video for step seven (about final finishes and flourishes) before I left for Britain. Laura is editing it right now. When itā€™s done, youā€™ll be able to learn to paint step-by-step at your own pace and youā€™ll no longer need me.

I plan to edit this material into book form when Iā€™m done. No ā€˜how to paintā€™ book can possibly be as complete as these interactive courses, but a book is easier to curl up with.

Victoria Street, 16X20, oil on linen in a hard maple frame, $2029 includes shipping and handling in continental US.

So, how long does oil paint take to dry?

New painters want to know if they must let their paint dry between layers. Itā€™s not necessary if you adhere scrupulously to the ā€˜fat over leanā€™ rule. Keep those bottom layers thin and you can paint right into them.

Paint is a simple material, just pigment particles suspended in a binder. So why do some paintings break down? Much of that is down to experimenting with additives. Laying new materials in a pool of drying oils is a recipe for long-term decay. Our museums are full of 20th century paintings with premature cracking. In oil painting, conservative skepticism is sensible.

https://www.watch-me-paint.com/product/midnight-at-the-wood-lot/Midnight at the Wood Lot, oil on archival canvasboard, $1449.00 framed includes shipping and handling within continental US.

Ignoring the ā€˜fat over leanā€™ rule is another cause of failed, cracking paintings. The most common solvent today is odorless mineral spirits (OMS) which breaks down the oil and then evaporates. In the bottom layer, that can leave a touch-hard finish in as little as half an hour. That surface can easily be broken if you need to edit. However, in the squishy top layers, OMS can wreck your painting.

I wish someone had told me this when I was younger. I struggled with paintings that looked great when wet but grey when dry, and which aged terribly even in the short time I knew them.

Oil paints donā€™t dry, they absorb oxygen from the air to harden. Whatā€™s oxidizing isnā€™t the pigment but the oil between the pigment particles. Different pigments have different particle sizes, so some colors dry faster than others. Iā€™ve outlined the dry times in the video, but the most important one to remember is titanium white, which is a slow dryer. Thatā€™s one reason it doesnā€™t belong in your grisaille.

The ā€˜fatā€™ in paint is siccative oil, which in most cases is linseed oil. Itā€™s so harmless itā€™s edible. The downside of linseed oil is its tendency to yellow over time, so other oils, like walnut or safflower, have been substituted. They, sadly, are more prone to cracking. Itā€™s an imperfect world, isnā€™t it?

Alkyd paints and mediums are made from oil-modified resin treated with alcohol and acid. Their main advantage is their dry time. They can give you a touch-dry surface in 24 hours. You can use an alkyd medium with traditional oil paint. The granddaddy of these was Winsor & Newtonā€™s Liquin, developed in the 1960s. In general, alkyd resin doesnā€™t hold as much pigment as traditional oils do. I donā€™t use them because I generally seek a slower dry time, and Iā€™m put off by the smell.

Stone Wall, Salt Marshes, 14×18, $1594 framed includes shipping and handling in continental US.

How long does oil paint take to dry? It depends on many factors, but as long as you follow the ā€˜fat over leanā€™ rule, itā€™s not important.

Iā€™m in Britain on another lovely, long, blister-inducing hike. Iā€™ve turned my phone off and while Iā€™m gone, Laura will be running the office. Just email me as usual if you have questions or problems registering for a class or workshop. (Who am I kidding? She fixes all that stuff anyway.)

Reserve your spot now for a workshop in 2025:

A walk in an English woods

A walk in an English woods, oil on linen, 16X20, private collection.

Iā€™ve never starred in one of my own paintings before, and if I were to choose my pose, I probably wouldnā€™t choose to paint my backside, but there was something magical about this moment. My husband posted a photo of this scene on Facebook, from our hike along Hadrianā€™s Wall in 2022.

ā€œI should paint that,ā€ I mused.

ā€œDo it,ā€ my friend Kenny said, and a commission was born.

There are some painters whoā€™ve specialized in painting the deep woods: the Barbizon painters and John Carlson come immediately to mind. The trouble is in sorting the screen of trees into a coherent pattern. One can vignette the subject into the deep woods, as Colin Page did in this lovely painting of his daughters. One can use the trees as a vertical screen, as Gustav Klimt did in his birch forest paintings. Or one can group them in masses, as Carlson did here.

Stiles have gone the way of the dodo in the US, but in Britain theyā€™re very common. Theyā€™re steps or gates that allow people to pass a fence or wall while keeping the sheep or cows neatly in their enclosures. Some are nothing more than flat stone footholds; nicer ones have a swing gate within a frame box, as here. I think we crossed about 20,000 of these on our 84-mile hike.

Wooden stiles have all the visual charm of a hayrack. Theyā€™re of unfinished dimensional lumber and squared off to the path. While the stile is the subject of this painting, it couldnā€™t be the main focus. Nor should I be; even if I am the largest figure in the painting. Instead, itā€™s the couple in the distance with their little dog, Poppy.

A walk in the woods

It was a moment I remembered well, because I was sure that Kenny and Martha had chosen the wrong path. I was certain that we should veer to the right. Part of my goal in the painting was to portray that sense of Robert Frostā€™s The Road Not Taken:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and Iā€”
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Sometimes it isnā€™t by choice.

The challenge in this painting was finding the right color temperature and brushwork without overriding the peace and solitude of these ancient woods. Iā€™m quite happy with the results, and I donā€™t often say that.

Iā€™m in Britain on another lovely, long, blister-inducing hike. Iā€™ve turned my phone off and while Iā€™m gone, Laura will be running the office. Just email me as usual if you have questions or problems registering for a class or workshop. (Who am I kidding? She fixes all that stuff anyway.)

Reserve your spot now for a workshop in 2025:

How to describe light: two new Zoom classes

Massif in Sedona, AZ in morning light. Private collection

As you know, Iā€™m on vacation, pummeling the soles of my feet on the Yorkshire dales. That means Laura gets to handle the arrangements for my next series of classes, which is the only set of Zoom classes Iā€™ll do before late autumn. There are limited seats in these classes and when theyā€™re gone, theyā€™re gone. Other than that, youā€™ll be limited to taking one of my in-person workshops. (Of course, thereā€™s nothing wrong with that.)

Here are two approaches to how to describe light:

Words+Picturesā€”Monday evenings

In addition to the more concrete examples of combining words and images, we’ll experiment using text as a graphic element.

Words+Pictures has been on my mind for a while. As a graphic designer, I did lots of illustration and as I transitioned to painting full time I wrote and illustrated two books. Despite my love of kids, Iā€™m whimsy-impaired, so that wasnā€™t the career path for me. However, I love to write and I love to paint, and I spend lots of time at the intersection of the two.

Even if you never plan to illustrate anything, thinking about your paintings in words expands how you approach your visual art.

Sometimes a picture is really a narrative.

This will be an exploration weā€™ll undertake together, as Iā€™m as excited about it as anyone. Weā€™ll cover:

  • Haiga
  • Storyboarding
  • Illustrationā€”story
  • Illustrated poem
  • Designing type into a painting
  • The travelling sketch book. Iā€™ll be working on this as I amble through the Yorkshire countryside!

This class will meet Mondays, June 10th, 17th, 24th, July 1st, 15th, 22nd, from 6-9pm ET.

Same massif in evening light.

The Color of Lightā€”Tuesday evenings

The Color of Light is more tightly focused on painting. Lighting effects are intimately tied with composition and together these two elements can make a painting sink or swim. If youā€™ve ever had a painting ā€œgo dullā€ on you, itā€™s because you havenā€™t properly integrated lighting effects from the beginning.

This class is designed for people who already know how to handle their material. Once one gets past getting the paint to properly stick to the surface, painting is less about how to paint and more about how to see. Weā€™ll cover:

  • Global color and complements
  • The optics of light (and why a lightbox is a terrible idea)
  • Deep shade
  • Fragmented light: the lessons of Impressionism
  • Reflection
  • Indoor lighting schemes

This class will meet Tuesdays: June 11th, 18th, 25th, July 2nd, 16th, 23rd, from 6-9pm ET.

Although Iā€™ll try to steal moments with my laptop, everything will fall in Lauraā€™s lap while Iā€™m gone. Iā€™ve turned my cell phone off, so email me here instead. Laura has a toddler, so it might take a little longer than usual, but she will help you, I promise.

Reserve your spot now for a workshop in 2025: