"Just a Little Green"

"Just a Little Green"

A few years ago I was fortunate to explore one of my favorite places, Ding Darling National Wildlife Refuge, with several talented artists who also happened to be much loved friends.  After the Florida Wildlife Art Expo Rob Mullen, Carel Brest Van Kempen, Cole Johnson, Steve Oliver and I headed to Ding Darling armed with cameras, binoculars and canoes.

After a lovely few hours paddling off the beaten path, we pulled ashore near a dike that was a popular birding spot.  One of the tourists, seeing our cameras and binoculars, walked over and said "you people look like you know what you are doing…" he pointed to a bird perched nearby "is that an eagle or an osprey?"  It was obviously an osprey even to the naked eye, but we glassed it to make him feel better and confirmed "osprey".  The gentleman looked at the printed bird list he held and said "well, I want it to be an eagle…so I am counting it as an eagle"  He checked the eagle off his list and headed back to his group.  We looked at one another and laughed...

Along the dike, we spotted a little green heron hunting from a mangrove knee.  Every species of heron has it's own techniques for hunting.  The green heron's arsenal includes sitting perfectly still and watching the water until a fish swims within reach…then, with lightning speed, the little green will try to grab it from its perch.  

We sat and patiently watched, waiting for the moment…the heron didn't move.  Time passed and the observers, birders, photographers and artists alike, began wandering away one by one.  Pretty soon it was Carel and I and a photographer we didn't know.  Then Carel left.  The photographer and I sat as still as the heron. cameras poised for the shot of the moment when the bird went for a fish…waiting and waiting and waiting.  Finally, almost simultaneously, we both lowered our cameras in defeat.  Of course, it was then, as if on cue, that the heron shot its head into the water after a fish.  

What came as a complete surprise was that the heron apparently forgot that it was supposed to maintain a grip on the branch when it grabbed for the fish…and crashed into the water with a completely undignified splash.  The heron scrambled back out of the water and onto another mangrove knee where it fluffed its soaked plumage and ruffled its crest indignantly.  The photographer and I looked at one another, laughing in amazement.  Neither of us had ever seen that happen…and I have never seen it happen again.  

It is moments like this that are carved into my memory after countless hours in the field watching the creatures I love to paint.  Over the years I have learned that, for me, it isn't enough to visit a place and snap a few pictures for reference.  The payoff for all those hours spent as my limbs cramped waiting for what happens next…are a plethora of precious, priceless moments of wonder.  

In the end, I painted the heron poised for the strike…but, swirled into every brushstroke, is the memory of the pink cloud of spoonbills we flushed as we paddled, the a perfect day spent in a wonderful place, the "un-birder" and his "eagle", the laughter of friends and the hilarious "miss" of a beautiful green heron…

"Gimme Shelter"

UPDATE August 13, 2015:

Sad news today, a grizzly sow was euthanized.  It is possible that she was one of the grizzlies that I have watched, photographed and painted for over a decade. It is said that she killed a park employee who was hiking off trail without bear spray.

I cannot imagine the horror and pain that defined the last minutes of this man’s life. My heart goes out to his family and his friends as they deal, not only with his death, but with the horrific manner in which he died. As if their loss were not painful enough, they are being subjected to a barrage of insensitive barbs and rants by the wildlife lovers who insist on blaming him for the euthanization of the bear.

It does not matter if he was off trail, it does not matter if he was without bear spray, it does not even matter if the bear was protecting her cubs. A man is dead.  For those of us who choose to live in bear country, this is the sobering reality: this bear did not just defensively attack and run, she killed, fed, cached and returned to feed again. For that, the Park and bear management felt as if they had no option other than to euthanize her. Like many, I hoped and tried for better options. At least the lives of her cubs were spared...they will be sent to zoos, possibly re-habbed and released. Wherever they end up, I hope their story continues to be told.

Tears come as I write those words, for if this is the bear they say, I have watched her for over a decade as she skillfully raised a number of cubs by the roadside. She brought so much awe and joy to the countless people who were fortunate enough to have seen her. I have painted her, laughed at her antics, marveled at her parenting skills, cried for her lost cubs and admired her grown cubs as they go about their life being the bears that she taught them to be. There is a hole in my heart just as there is a hole in the ecosystem of the Lake area.

My grief and sympathy extends also to the bear management team. They know this bear and I have no doubt that it also pains them greatly to have to say goodbye.

What has saddened me in addition to the loss of this bear and the hiker, is the blame and hatred being leveled at the hiker, the park service and even anyone that did not post a dozen different petitions to save her.

The reality is that blood of this bear is on all of our hands…she dies not simply for killing and eating an ill-prepared hiker…but for all of us. She died because people, willingly or ignorantly, fail to abide by park rules and recommendations. She died because people love to see bears, get close for a few moments, take photos. Anyone who has ever stood in a bear jam or been closer than 100 yards carries some responsibility in her loss, because we helped her become acclimated to people rather than instinctively running from us. Everyone who visits the park, lives in the area or simply drives a car has to shoulder a little of the weight of her death. Because we want to visit or live in their habitat, consume the products created by destruction of wild places and allow our population to outnumber them by greater numbers every year...we threaten the wild things that we love. It is something we ALL need to think about.

I am still holding out hope that it wasn't the bear teveryone says it was...there are a lot of bears in that area.  Whether is was or not, a man was lost and a bear was lost...sad all around.

Here is the original post telling a story on one of my experiences with this bear:

There are countless reasons to spend time in the field if you want to paint wildlife...not the least of which is the chance of witnessing something truly extraordinary.  

This is the story of one of those days and one of the paintings it inspired...

It was May 17, 2011...I was driving the road South of Hayden Valley when a Grizzly with a tiny coy cub stepped out of the trees to cross the road.  "COY" is an anacronym for "cub of the year"...the wee bear beside its mama was just a few months old.

Roadside mama bears are often pretty traffic-savvy.  She waited for the inevitable stop of the traffic.

When there was an opening, she ran across first...

The cub followed...look at how TINY it is!

We had an extraordinary amount of Spring snow this particular year...and the burms created by the plows were mountains to a teeny coy bear.

Safely across the road...mama headed for the melt-off flushed Yellowstone river.  She started swimming and we wondered where the cub was...and how it could possibly make it across the wide, cold water.

Mama swam out a few yards...then turned back.

She met the cub in the water...

then turned around and waited as the cub climbed on her back.

Then she ferried the wee one across the river.

On the other side, she shook him off...

Then the two headed away from the road, no doubt, to rest and nurse.

In my MANY years of bear watching, I had never seen anything like this (and haven't since).







Throughout the Summer the cub often climbed up to sit on mama's back, much to the delight of anyone who saw them.  In watching the two later in the season, I wondered if the cub learned that behavior because of unusually late (and deep) snow.  It would be much warmer on mama's back!

The only other time I have seen a cub "ride" its mama was during the first summer that the sow with four was roaming the area south of Mammoth a few years ago.  Once in a while, if the little runt of the litter was having trouble keeping up, she would turn back and wait for it to climb on before continuing to go where ever she was headed.

These moments of discovery are simply magical...and can only be found by being out there.

"Gimme Shelter"

Oil on Gessoed Panel

9" x 12"

Are We There Yet?

When is a painting finished?  This is a subject that could easily fill a dozen posts (and may, yet). Today I posted an image of a new painting on FaceBook.  It has been leaning against a wall "finished" for a couple of weeks so I could study it...yet, after I posted the image, I saw things that needed just a wee bit of work.

There are several ways to give yourself some perspective on a painting.  The classic is using a mirror...nothing will reveal flaws in your drawing or composition faster than a mirror image.  I am happy with the drawing on this piece...some of the colors look a little intense, but that is due to a less than accurate photo.

Historically, some artists would use a reducing glass.  With the convenience of cell phone cameras and digital images, though, today's artist only has to shoot a photo and look at the image. It can tell you a great deal about your piece.  Now, if you really want to see how your values balance...make a black and white image...

So...in re-evaluating this painting...what do I think it needs?  

The outline down the front edge of the fore horse's face it what really bugs me.  It was like that in the reference, just the way the light hit him...it was something I'd meant to fix earlier, but forgot.  Remember, just because it is that way in the photo, does not mean you should paint it that way!!

By losing the edge of that line, it should give it a little more dimension

The shadow on the rear leg under the belly of the grey horse also bothers me...it is just a little hard...the value is a little strong.  A few whiskers wouldn't hurt.  The highlights above the darker horse's eye might need to be just a tad less strong...and the edge of his jaw and neck should be softened.  The star marking on the darker horse seems a little strong in the composition...it would be easy to paint it out...but I would prefer to keep their markings accurate...so maybe push it back just a bit.

Obviously, it would be easy to nitpick and noodle it to death...I don't want to do that.  The changes I want to make will take about ten-fifteen minutes...then they'll be done.  Period.

Finished piece...

"Lean on Me"

24" x 18"

Oil on Stretched Canvas

The Yin and Yang of Duende

by Lyn StClair

We have all heard artists refer to the "muse".  The muse is inspiration from outside. Creating with passion also means listening to and acting on something deep inside. It often means defying logic and sometimes pushing ourselves in directions we don't consciously want to go.

The Spanish poet Garcia Lorca called this "duende" and described it as "a power and not a behavior, it is a struggle and not a concept...it sets blood afire…it exhausts and consumes us" He wrote "I have heard an old master guitarist say: ‘The duende is not in the throat; the duende surges up from the soles of the feet'."  

In his "Theory and Play of the Duende", Lorca wrote:
"Seeking the duende, there is neither map nor discipline. We only know it burns the blood like powdered glass, that it exhausts, rejects all the sweet geometry we understand, that it shatters styles and makes Goya, master of the greys, silvers and pinks of the finest English art, paint with his knees and fists in terrible bitumen blacks..."

The best work comes out of responding to duende, this consuming "urge" to paint. It makes your heart pound....sometimes it seems to tear your heart right out of your chest.  When this feeling hits, I have to drop everything to paint and I will paint until wholly exhausted. 

Some paintings almost feel as if they are channeled...the hand with the brush pulls something out of the air that often surprises even me.  In addition to countless learning opportunities, in my opinion, these wild dances with the muse and "duende" produce the best work.

The other side of the duende fire...the "yin" side...is "block". As suddenly as it appeared, the inspiration may vanish...maybe right in the middle of a painting. I have learned to stop when that happens. For me, trying to "force" a painting to work often ruins it. At times, I may go a month or more without even going near the easel.

You have to let go and understand that periods of "non-creativity" are as essential to the artist as the frenzies of inspired work. You can't be creative 24/7...you need time to recharge.  When faced with "block", I try to do something different. I "chase" bears, hike, ride/train my horses, take a trip or dive into a book.  Sometimes I look for activities that may inspire future work…other times, I simply play. 

If you want to keep your work fresh, learn to give the muse a little breathing room once in a while. Stepping away can be just as productive as sitting at the easel...if you learn to turn "block" to your advantage.  

It is easy to get caught up in the rush of duende…it feels good, it is what we believe making art should be like.  Block, on the other hand, brings stress and suffering.  We berate ourselves for having "lost" our creativity or worry that we will not have the work we need for exhibitions and collectors.  The key is learning to perfect the practice of block…and to appreciate the opportunities it offers to reflect, consider, explore, experiment and learn.  

Have patience with your periods of block, honor that time to look within (or without).  Soon you will discover that the deep, dark, cool stillness of "block" is as delicious in its own way as the wild, heated rush of duende's fire!

Are You "In" or are You "Out"?

Today hundreds of artists are turning on their computers and checking email with a mix of anticipation and dread. The jury results for the Leigh Yawkey Museum's "Birds in Art" are in and the email notifications have been sent out.

Rejection is one of the most difficult things artists face. 

What we create is deeply personal...it comes from our hearts, our minds and our souls…the true artist creates work as unique as they are.

Beyond the ability to draw/paint/sculpt...artists
must have the willingness to expose themselves to criticism, mockery, judgement, rejection and a public that sometimes simply might not "get" what it is we do.

Being an artist is not so simple as having "talent".  It means having fortitude, grace, determination, compassion, an open mind and a very thick skin.

The rest of the world views our work from their own perspective.  They look at it through eyes that see things differently than we do…maybe a little differently, maybe a lot.

Still, we strive to create something that describes what we want to say about our world...because that is who we ARE.

It is important for artists to remember that art is subjective...
everyone sees something different in a piece based on their own set of life experiences.

Try not to let a jury decision (bad OR good) carry too much weight...

Though it is tempting to try to fit into the niche you want to be a part of….being an artist means being true to that uniqueness within your own soul.

Sometimes it is brutally difficult to "own" your individuality…ask any high school kid!

Regardless of the endless work, the pain, the hard knocks, the string of rejections…nothing matters more than pouring your heart completely into what you do and being true to your own perfectly unique vision.

It is worth it...and soulful intent will shine through in the work you do.

The technical end is relatively easy…most anyone can learn the craftsmanship of making art.  Most anyone can copy a style or a photo and create something that someone somewhere would be happy to have in their home.

The hard part, what separates the wheat from the chaff, is being willing to step outside the box, out of your safety zone…and choosing to leap boldly off the edge without looking for a net.

As Agnes DeMille said:
"The artist never entirely knows.  We guess.  We may be wrong, but we take leap after leap in the dark."

THAT is what makes the truest of artists:  no matter what style they embrace, from abstract to impressionist to representational...
they honor their unique way of expressing themselves through their art.

And no matter how many times they fall...they keep leaping!

Living your creativity in such a way means finding a delicate balance between being true to your vision and learning to find the positive in criticism and rejection.  This is how we become better artists.

One of the things I love most about art is that you never get "there"...
there is always something new to try and there is always room for improvement.

In hindsight, I wish I'd saved the plethora of rejections that have landed in my mailbox (it would be an impressive stack of "no"!)…but it would also be a reminder of the sheer determination that is a big part of my foundation as an artist.

Over the years I have won over 90 awards for my art and my work hangs in museums and collections all over the world...

Along the way, I have also been rejected from more shows than I can count.

If I miss out on an award or get a rejection...I work harder to push that envelope next time.

If I win an award or get "in"...I work harder to push the envelope next time.

Ribbons or rejections...either way, it changes nothing.  I am an artist...and no jury decision can change that.

No matter how many rejections come my way...I will continue to try to break free of my comfort zone and make art straight from the heart.

This is a journey, my friends.  The true artist's path is no yellow brick road…it is fraught with washouts, thorny patches, ruts and blind curves.

Choose your steps carefully, trust your heart, listen to your muse and find joy in the fact that there could be something wonderful to learn just around the next bend.  

"In" or "out", I am grateful for shows like Birds in Art that give us reason to raise the bar and take flight as artists.

Heartfelt thanks go out to the fabulous staff of the Leigh Yawkey Woodson Art Museum for, to paraphrase Pooh, giving us something that is so hard to not get into!

Congratulations to ALL of the artists who spread their wings to even TRY for this show...

as far as I am concerned...every one of you is "in"!

By the way...
ALL of the paintings that illustrate this post represent just SOME of my Birds in Art "rejects" over the 20 years I have applied...(and, yes, there were some others that DID get in!)  :-)