This is a picture plane. 
Like a giant dead bug, this abandoned airplane lies on its back, presumably tossed there by a violent wind.
The bottom painting depicts a collapsing bridge, the consequence of heavy rain and time, over a stream leading to the Delaware in the background. The upper painting shows the canal early this morning. The rains came late with the sun available most of the day.
I used a different approach for this one, and achieved a more vigorous drawing. It's almost all black pastel.
Let me explain. Somebody said to me: nobody wants those drawings. I said: I want to do them anyway. There's a small airport nearby that closed a few years ago. There are several small planes rotting away, all vandalized, stripped and broken. A "boneyard," somebody said. I must draw them. They won't be around for much longer.
Here's a tree that is still standing. It's on the top of the tall hill behind the Clark Art Institute.
Once I knew an artist who said he only used pastels in the spring because that was the only time that there was any color to be seen outdoors. It's true about springtime, but also about any other moment, just different.
The remains of an old airfield nearby has remnants of old airplanes. They once flew in the air, but now lie prone on the ground just like the old tree trunks in the woods.
The dinosaur bones meld into the landscape, slowing sinking into the ground, flaking and crumbling, though some parts are hard as rock, while others are mushy and wet. I don't know if I do them justice yet.
An 11x14 charcoal of a pile of dinosaur bones in the woods. Henry Moore made drawings of an elephant skull. I once did some large drawings of a mouse skull. I still have the mouse skull. Now I have to make a painting of this dinosaur, and include the background landscape.
At some point, it will make sense as to why I am doing these studies. At least I hope so. Maybe it will become a dead end. This one was done differently than the previous two, starting with pastel, adding washes, and then finally pastel again. Degas used water with pastels, but I am not sure if anyone knows exactly how he did so. Also with the tree limbs on the ground, the negative and positive spaces interact in interesting ways. That might be another way of saying that they can get confusing.
These tree trunks are closer to what I am trying to attain. Yes, I am moving back and forth from the forest floor and the swamp. Alternate bogging, you might say. The above is a combination of pastel and acrylic. It's a matter of finding the right approach to the first layer, and the blotches that follow.
Okay, so my pile of limbs isn't quite there yet. So I went back into the swamp. I saw the beaver when I was leaving the swamp.
These are the tips of the serpentine fingers of a large tree on its side. Another experiment: I have lots of black pastel and watercolor paper, plus my own fingers.
Yesterday, I spent a lot of time looking at this swamp, and walking around it. One goose kept a wary eye on me. This image is 11x14 on uart paper.
In this view the water of the swamp has a film of ice and the mountains still hold snow.
These monsters aren't too pretty. We'll have to see what we can do to make them more presentable. Actually, even though they have been dead for a long time, they still have a lot of presence left.
This is the last one for today. This was done fairly quickly with a lot of black pastel, a little charcoal, and a little white pastel.
Last one for today...maybe. This one was done more quickly, as I try to determine what is the best method, or methods to do these. This one is mainly black pastel. The last five are all 11x14 on Bristol smooth paper.
Since the leaves are only hints at this point, the woods are brilliant with light. I visited this pile of giant limbs again today. They have been here for quite a few years. Hard as rock, they seem, like bones of dinosaurs.
These giants have been on the ground for a while. I've noticed them before but this time more so. I am looking for something a bit more muscular for a series of drawings. I have to return at a different time of day for more interesting shadows. This drawing is from around noon.
This is a view of the Field Farm swamp off of Sloan Road. I think I will try something slightly different next.
Only the tractor can and has made it through this field. I walked in as far as I dared going from one grass clump to another. The geese kept honking at me. "Far enough. Far enough." That doesn't sound like a honk, but you know what I mean. Mud and dried grass are not easy to draw but I will keep trying.
