Sunfish Pond

I had it in my mind last week that I was going to go for a hike (dammit).  Not just a walk, or a stroll, but a real hike.  It had been years since I last made the trek to Sunfish Pond, a beautiful, woodsy place along the Appalachian Trail, and that was where I would make tracks to.  And again, I decided that my camera was going to come with me.  Due to a recent promotion, I am both energized and stressed out.  Although I woke up on Saturday morning sore and tired, I knew that if I didn't toss aside all responsibility and get lost in the woods, I would be worse off both mentally and physically.

The weather was cloudy and unusually warm for early November as Leo and I took the first steps along an eight mile long loop.  I had hoped for sunnier conditions- better lighting for the camera, you know.  I took my first few shots with a rather resigned feeling of documenting our journey rather than  of creating art.  Most of the trees up north were bare, but what foliage remains is exceptionally vibrant in its coloration.  We followed Dunnfield Creek, a noisy and swift-running stream with plenty of little waterfalls along the way.  Its valley is humid and excellent habitat for moss and other moisture loving plants.  I'm inclined to say that the photo below is the best shot of the expedition, due to its composition and interesting focus on the middle ground.

While I'm out and about in the great wide world, I'm always looking for beauty in the details.  As I commute to work, I'm forever noticing neat cloud formations  and other beautiful scenery.  I can't help myself, and I'm grateful that this is such a prominent part of who I am.  Being outdoors in such great and natural loveliness is nearly a religious experience for me.  "This is great," I said to Leo over and over.  "It's so good to be out here."  It's immersive- the musky, exciting scent of leaf-mould, the sharp, fresh autumn air filling my lungs, the chilly breeze rustling the few leaves left on the trees.

The pond is a popular spot.  I'd say we saw about thirty other hikers total in the area of this, our halfway point in the hike.  Sunfish Pond is the result of a glacier carving a deep, broad depression in the mountain itself.  The water is clear and calm, and sound carries far.  One day, Leo and I are going to hike the entire Appalachian Trail.  This is one of many beautiful precursors to that end goal.  Get out there, take a good camera or sketchbook with you, and let the outdoors fill you with wonder and inspiration.

Halloween Hike Photos

I was determined to get outside and go for a long walk, so I drove to Merrill Creek to admire the autumn foliage.  Almost as an afterthought, I brought along my camera.  I wasn't sure what sort of lighting I would get, since it was quite cloudy when I left the house.  Many leaves have fallen since the one day of hard rain that we've had in the Northeast this fall.  I was pleasantly surprised by the surplus of gorgeous golden foliage set against a lovely blue sky streaked with wisps of white clouds.  Despite the cloudiness, it was bright, and slanting sunlight poured through the trees.  I had a difficult time reviewing photos on my camera's screen due to the brightness of the light reflecting from the clouds.  

I used a variety of f-stops and shutter speeds, but what seemed to work best were shutter speeds ranging from 1/100-1/250 and apertures from f12 to f18.  The photos required minimal editing, as I was satisfied with the composition quality; I adjusted the exposure and contrast here and there.  I was using my Nikon D300 with a Tamron telescoping lens (28-300mm).  I've only just started using the Tamron (it sat for a number of years in my camera bag), and I regret not trying it sooner.  It's a versatile piece of equipment that takes sharp photos, and is a little lighter than my other telephoto lenses.  As I hate carrying a large amount of weight around my neck, this is a huge plus.  It was a pleasure to be out and about in the beautiful weather this past Halloween afternoon.  I can't wait to get out there and take more photos!

Sketch of a horse

"Untitled"
Sharpie pen
5.5x8.5

Study of a study: Leonardo da Vinci

"Study of a rearing horse: Leonardo da Vinci"
Sharpie pen
5.5x8.5

A couple of my teachers throughout the years have recommended replicating art that you admire as a method of improvement in technique.  I pulled up some images of sketches by Leonardo da Vinci, and chose this one as my reference.  

I used a Sharpie pen, whereas da Vinci used red chalk in his drawing.  The feel is a lot different as a result.  His lines and shading have a much more organic feel to them, which makes sense given that many of his studies were in preparation for sculpture.  My lines are sharp and crisp, and I had to rely on crosshatching for a similar result to da Vinci's shading.  

It is interesting to see where he experimented with different anatomical placements of the horse's head and legs.  These conscious choices can make a huge difference in the impact of a piece; I am striving to be more aware of my choices when creating art.  While I was working on this piece, I felt the most focused and inspired that I have in quite some time.  I suppose that studying the great artists will do that.

Freehand Andalusian

"Andalusian"
Sharpie pen
5.5x8.5

I was standing outside yesterday, admiring the balmy October afternoon, when a little niggling thought popped up.  "You haven't drawn anything in over a week now.  You really ought to update your blog."  An image of a proud Spanish horse, mane flowing and neck arched, came to my mind.  I like to draw the Iberian horses the best- the Lipizzaners, Friesians, and Andalusians.  There is such grace, strength, and beauty in their conformation.  They are the Adonis of horses.

This was a freehand, no reference drawing.  There are some liberties taken with the horse's conformation, and as usual when I draw without reference, his eyes are too high up on his head.  It's not as noticeable as usual, so there has been some improvement.  The foreshortening of the right foreleg is a little awkward but gets the job done without detracting from the overall image.  I could spend more time on the shadowing and crosshatching.  There is a heavy reliance on line in the drawing, especially on contour lines.  While there is nothing "wrong" about that, some classic instructors and critics might turn their nose up.  I'm no da Vinci, but even he used a lot of contour lines.  I think I may try replicating some of his sketches to improve my own art.

The Last Rose of October

"The Last Rose of October"
f/2.0/ISO125/1/2564s
HTC6500LVW

The days are growing shorter and cooler, and the sky is becoming clearer and bluer. It's October, the growing season is ending, and the time of harvest is here. A few hardy blooms remain in my garden. I had the good fortune of seeing a goldfinch perched on the coneflower stalks, pecking at the seeds of the dried flower heads.  With wonder, I observed that the only rose bush is putting forth one more bud.

We inherited this rose bush with the house, before there was a flower bed. It was a sad little thing, growing out of the yard itself at the corner of the house. Last year, only one bloom made it. The leaves were chewed full of holes, and it didn't quite clear a foot in height. When we finally got around to putting in the flower bed on the street side of the house, I decided that the rose would need to be transplanted. It needed to be dug up anyway, otherwise the rototiller would have destroyed it. Up it came and into a temporary home while we weeded, turned over and amended the soil, and bought a few perennials. I didn't have high hopes for the rose, but we put it back in the ground anyway.

This year, we made sure to fertilize the rose bush in particular, and keep the pests off as best we could. This last October rose is the seventh bloom. It's a blinding hot pink, so bright that the human eye and the camera have a difficult time focusing on it. The chilly weather has preserved the rose for days now, a late summer firework. I took this photo early on a Saturday morning.  The sun had only just come over the horizon, and a few raindrops from the storms the night before lingered on the silky petals.  Liquid gems sparkled and caught my eye, and my lens.  

The photo was originally in color, but I want the focus to be on the lighting, and to capture the melancholy feel that autumn sometime brings.  Bittersweet, the end of warm sunny days, but the beginning of wonderful crisp days that lift my soul on brisk winds.

Music, some of Bob Langrish's photos have blurry bits, and drawing on a large scale

"Untitled by Bmode"
India ink on Bristol board
18x24

I was knocked out by a pretty ugly stomach bug for the past couple of days, and only this afternoon was I able to rise out of bed for more than the necessities.  I had recently cleaned my studio space at home.  As I stood on knees as wobbly as a newborn foal's and stared at my desk, I decided that I would draw something, and something big.  I opened up my portfolio from my student days, where to my delight I discovered that I still have a few pristine sheets of Bristol board.  It's a fine, smooth paper, and yields incredibly crisp results.  

I knew I was going to draw a horse (no surprises there), so I went through one of my coffee table books on the subject and chose a photo by Bob Langrish for my reference.  For those of you who don't know, Bob Langrish is pretty much the god of equine photographers.  He has shot nearly any equine subject that I can think of, and many of his Horse Illustrated magazine posters graced my walls when I was a kid.  I may or may not have a slight inferiority complex when it comes to my art, so it was an utter revelation when I was looking at these photos and noted that the whole horse was NOT entirely in focus all the time!  It's really hard to get crisp photos of a horse moving at speed, and I felt so much better about myself  when I saw blurry hooves in some of his photos of horses galloping.  Because, guess what, a lot of my photos are somewhat similar.  Of course, nearly everything else is totally on point- the lighting, the composition, et cetera- yet I felt a little relieved that I didn't necessarily have to be so ridiculously harsh on myself about such a technical point.  Equine photography is often about capturing a moment of beauty, grace, and power, and the feelings that these great animals inspire in us.  Piffle if the hooves are a bit blurry.

I set up my workstation, put on a bit of music, and went to work.  Music is a part of the human identity, and therefore also a part of an artist's identity.  Even as early as seventh grade, I remember my art teachers putting on the radio and us kids getting our creative groove on.  It was especially a big deal in my high school drawing classes, where our teacher allowed us to bring in CD's of our own.  I discovered a few new artists like this, but I owe a lot of my taste in music to my older brothers.  For art making purposes, I gravitate towards classical, trip-hop, electronica, ambient and downtempo.  There's a free online radio station called Jango that has helped me discover even more artists, such as Bmode, Nightmares on Wax, and Aphex Twin.  I've also become extremely fond of Nujabes, whose music is unfortunately awfully expensive to buy, but there is a good Youtube mix out there if you fancy trying him out.

Getting the horse's proportions down first with a pencil sketch took awhile, with the front legs below the knee giving me the most difficulty.  I was fairly successful, given that I don't often draw on a large scale like this.  Originally, I was going to use gouache paint, but my tubes of paint had dried solid.  Next to the gouache was a canister of unopened India ink.  It was a smashing success, and I do believe there will be more experimentation with the medium.  It felt magical and effortless as I wielded brush and ink over Bristol.  I know that there's a lot more to India ink than crisp lines, but it served my purpose so very well in this regard.