Sahuarita Saguaro

Saguaro, Sahuarita, AZ

Oil on canvas, 10x10

Our daughter, son-in-law and their two kids - 10 and 11 - are visiting, and I painted as much as I could in advance of their visit.  

Painting from photos of the trip brings the sights and sounds and scents of these beautiful places back to me in full. No, it's not the thrill of painting right on the site, but it is just as fine, in a more contemplative way. 

For those of you who haven't painted en plein air (outside, on scene), it can be just the greatest thing in the world. Standing in the landscape you're painting, you can see the light and shadows with real clarity. You can smell the earth and hear the wind and feel the sun (or rain) ... (or mist)... (or snow)... on your face. 

You can mix a color on your palette and hold it up to compare it to the color of what you're painting. You can easily shorten or lengthen distances, take out trees, push mountains back - make the adjustments you need to make to make the landscape a painting - and still check your changes against reality. 

I love it - but it's not a utopia. That wind can and does tip your easel over. Bugs fly around you, and get stuck in your paint. Sand and dirt and dust and little bits of who knows what also fly all over the place and end up in the painting. The sun can bounce off the canvas and pretty much blind you to colors. 

And above all, the light and shadows can change in a minute, so you'd better learn to paint fast. 

With all this, I have to say that it's my favorite thing to do. 

My next favorite is doing these studio pieces. I am enjoying the luxury of time, of easel stability, of light that doesn't change. It's great to be able to use the bathroom in the house, to get a hot cup of coffee, and to make a fresh sandwich to enjoy during my lunch break. 

And all the time, the photos and the paintings remind me about the places, the people, the discoveries of my trip out West. 

           

***

Here are some tidbits about saguaro cacti, according to the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum: 

The cacti, the defining feature of the Sonora Desert are found exclusively there. 

Most important for their growth are water and temperature - though elevation is a factor. Too high, and the cold weather will kill them. 

The cacti don't all grow arms, though many do. 

They can live 150-200 years, if conditions are right! 

***

Scenes from the road (and elsewhere) 

I love the way the road winds along the hillsides of this New Mexico town, and I think it would make an excellent painting.

I haven't done a donkey painting, but I think I might have to give it a try. 

This will definitely become a cowscape. 

I think I need to make a 10x10 of azaleas! 

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And, finally, an invitation: Since I am home now, it's a little tougher to get a Dog of the Day. I can always send photos of my dogs, but how fun is that? My friend and sponsor Sherry Svec sent me this photo of me with her dog Jack, and so Jack is the Dog of the Day today. 

Here's the invite: Send me a photo of your dog - with or without you in it, as you wish - and your dog could be the Dog of the Day. Click here to email me at carrieBjacobson@gmail.com

Heading East

Ganado

Oil on canvas, 12x48

The van right now is full of big, wet paintings, and while my hanging system is working well, it isn't really set up to handle big stuff - and I have some. 

And I have to make some tracks towards home; I am hanging a show in Groton, CT, April 5 - and have to get to Wachapreague first! 

So I wasn't planning on stopping. I wasn't planning on painting. And I really wasn't planning on painting a big piece. 

But I came around a curve in the road, and saw this rock formation spread out in front of me, and realized I was in Ganado, where I was born, and that was enough for me. 

I pulled off the highway, found an easy spot where I could set up, and I painted away. 

I love this piece. I love the mass of the rocks, its easy swell and curve, and the tiny house in the right foreground. And I like the sky pretty well, too. So it was a good stop! 

Here's my painting in the landscape. Because of the glare from the setting sun, it's a little hard to see this long painting AND the long landscape, but it's there if you work it. And just in case, there's the landscape minus the painting, too. 

***

I spent some time today thinking about all of you and how the painting distribution can work. 

I have made more 10x10 paintings than I've posted. And when I get home, I will still be painting them; there have been days when I could stop to take a photo, but just couldn't stop to paint. 

When they are all finished, I'm going to post them on my website, then contact each of you in order to find out which you want. 

You will have the option of choosing as many paintings as you are due, or taking that amount of $$ off a larger painting. If neither small nor large paintings pleases you (say it ain't so!), you are free to choose another 10x10 painting or paintings - or, again, amounts off a larger painting. 

If someone has already chosen a painting that you really really really want, I'll paint it again for you, as long as everyone agrees. 

And if you would like a painting from a particular photo I've posted, let me know, and I will make that happen. 

Sound good? 

***

Scenes from the day

 Here is some of the scenery along Interstate 40, heading toward Albuquerque

 A flower I saw while I was painting 

I looked for elk, but didn't see any! 

 More scenery! 

 Leaving Flagstaff, I got off in Meteor Crater, AZ, where there was a fine view of this snow-capped mountain.

This barn was in the high country past Flagstaff. I was up about 7,000 feet. 

A sign near Meteor Crater, AZ

Had to stop at the Trading Post, of course. 

Dog of the Day! 

What a Day!

Cathedral Rock

Oil on canvas, 30x40

This was the fourth of four paintings I made in Sedona on Wednesday, and I have to say, I love it! 

It is 30x40 - BIG! - and, taking a tip from the late Louisa McElwain, I bought a masonry trowel and used it to apply the paint. 

These rock formations demand it. They are huge, they are bulky, they are ridged and rolling and crenelated - and even though they are far away, the details are visible. 

The temptation is to try to paint each and every fold, each and every striation, each and every shadow - but that's not me, that's not how I paint - and it's not how I want to paint. 

To capture their splendor and muscle, I found I needed a bigger tool than I had. The masonry trowel is bigger than I am comfortable with, and stiffer than I like, but it worked. 

It was challenging and exhilarating, and I love the result. 

***

So here's my question: How do you live in a place like this?

How do you go to the grocery store and the library and the gas station when you are surrounded by this incredible scenery?

How do you pay attention to the chores and to everyday life?  

My guess is that people say they get used to it -  but I would never want to get used to it! 

Here's my painting in the landscape: 

***

Scenes from the day

These bronze statues at one of the National Forest information areas are just about life-size, I'm told. Though I haven't seen a javelina, or wild pig, lots of folks I spoke with have seen them. 

The photo above and the following photos are all scenes from Sedona

Sunset on a beautiful day. This is the highway out of Sedona. 

And here's the Dog of the Day! 

Arizona Sycamore - and an Excellent Show

Arizona Sycamore

Oil on canvas, 10x10

Tubac Trip Painting No. 12

The show in Tucson was a smashing success for me! I sold six paintings, for a total of about $2,400. That's not my best show ever, but it is up there with my best shows.

I was one of only a very few painters in the street fair, which truly was a street fair. In addition to food vendors selling turkey legs, corn on the cob, chili cheese fries, Chinese food, Hawaiian chicken and more, artists and artisans were selling jewelry, sculpture, hats, jams and jellies, tie-dyed T-shirts, blown glass and marbles, photographs and who knows what else - that was just the people near me.

All three days were bright and sunny and hot. Two paintings sold on Friday, none on Saturday and four on Sunday. The people who came to the fair - and there were tons of them! - were pleasant, polite, friendly and restored the faith in art-fair-goers that my experiences in Florida had pretty much destroyed.

So this was an excellent show for me, and fun, too!

On Monday, Dad and I had the chance to paint together again, while Paula played in a big golf tournament, coming in second. Dad and I drove through the funky/artsy little town of Patagonia, up a winding road that turned to dirt eventually, and ended at what was the town of Harshaw. Now, it is pretty much just a crumbling brick building and a turn off the road.

Dad painted the building, and painted an Arizona sycamore, an amazing kind of tree, with trunk that is dark near the ground, but, higher, its trunk and branches are white - and curving, twisty and gnarled, as well. I don't usually make paintings of trees, but this one was spectacular - and a challenge.

My painting in the landscape

***

Scenes from the Days

 Here's a view of the street fair, up the road from my tent.

I was lucky enough to be near the amusingly named Piggly's, which sold fries, chili cheese fries, enormous turkey legs and more. I didn't eat there, but had fun watching people devour turkey legs! 

Above and below is Ted, who visited my booth twice during the show. Ted has only one eye, but says he can see fine. His mission in life is to bring a smile and joy to people, he says. He told me he isn't afraid of dying because his wife is already dead, and he is looking forward to meeting him in Heaven. I asked if he dressed like this when his wife was alive, and he said - Yes! Even more so!

Here are the Knaacks, who bought one of my paintings - the first sale of the show! 

A jackrabbit in my dad's yard one night. 

Cows and a burro on the way to Harshaw. 

I almost put this in as the Dog of the Day... Patagonia's radio station.

A cool little shop in downtown Patagonia

Dog of the Day! This one is named Pima, and was a rescue from the Pima Animal Shelter. 

Arivaca, Arizona - and Painting with Dad

Arivaca, Arizona

Oil on canvas, 12x24

Dad is 84, and he's been painting for maybe 10 years, maybe more. For most of that time, he's done watercolors, but recently has moved into acrylics. 

Until Tuesday, he'd never painted in plein air! So I was thrilled - thrilled! - when he agreed to go out painting with me. 

We had a great time bouncing along a terrible road to a teeny town called Arivaca. Dad says it was settled in the 1960s and 1970s by people whose main pursuits were hiding from the law and selling drugs, maybe not in that order. 

These days, it's an eclectic, dusty little town, broken down in places, and kept up in places. 

While we didn't see any drug activity, it did seem that everyone in town smoked cigarettes. Haven't seen that in a while. 

A furniture designer and artist named Peter Saloom (check out his furniture by cicking here) rode by on a bike and stopped to see what we were doing. An awful lot of folks drove by and then sort of turned around and drove by again... I am sure they were wondering just what the HECK we were painting...

At any rate, I had a great idea: Dad and I should do a show together! What do you think? 

Here's Dad and his painting, which is at a midway point

Above is the building we both painted, and below is the building I added on the left-hand 

side of my painting. 

***

Scenes from the day

Here is some of the scenery on the way to Arivaca

 An Arivaca vaca (isn't that Spanish for cow?) 

At the restaurant where we had lunch, the walls of the patio held several large mosaics 

made of bottle caps! 

 Sunrise Tuesday in Tubac

Anyone want to buy a restaurant? 

Why this burrito wagon has a sign saying "Virginia," I do not know. 

Yee Ha! Cow Palace! 

Casper, the Dog of the Day