Sheep Hill Farm Late Summer

The Sheep Hill Farm is located at the bottom of Sheep Hill, and right now the hill is lush with colorful tall weeds and grass, some of which has been mowed. There are no sheep chomping away.

Slain Corn Field

When I see a harvested corn field with its remnants strewn across the ground and stubs still anchored in rows, it reminds me of those huge landscapes by Anselm Kiefer filled with history, blood, and fragments of past struggles. I have a lively imagination when it comes to corn fields. Do you know the passage in Walden where Thoreau describes his battle with the weeds, as if he was a warrior in the Trojan War?

Other Side of the Gate

This is the view from the other side of the gate, the stream side, corn field on the other side, cow field on this side.

More and No More

The oil was done while it was misting. It was time to stop when the water beads started gathering on the palette. The Hancock barn view is pastel over acrylic wash again. Unfortunately, the photos of these pastels over wash mislead. The pastels are flatter and more blended than they appear here. Reds tend to separate out in photos whereas they stay flat in the real thing. I know the handling is rough, but that's a consequence of the pitted paper, and what I am after. I like the compositions, which reward a second or third look.

Another Round

When I did the oil sketch on Sheep Hill, it was overcast and threatening to rain. The Hancock barns are pastel over acrylic wash.

Repeat

Another weekend oil in the field, and a Hancock barn pastel over wash.

In the Fields and on the Hills

In the last few days I was in the fields and on the hills painting in oils. The barn is an experiment with pastel over acrylic wash.

On Stratton Still

The black and whites help me see possibilities that are not there until I draw them out. I am deliberately trying to keep the looseness of the drawings in the pastel painting, which has to be partly an unplanned process. A bit of a contradiction. The pastel is 11x14 on colourfix paper prepared with acrylic wash.

Keep on Stratton

Jumping in feet first. 11x14 on colourfix paper, pastel over acrylic wash

Still Thinking on Stratton

Tomorrow I will keep thinking but in color, and try to keep the same feeling as the b&w's. These are 5 1/2 x 7 inches.

Slow Moving

In preparation for a couple pastels, I plan on doing a few black and whites first.

Mixing Media and Ogunquit

This is pastel over acrylic washes on watercolor paper.

I am reading a book titled Call of the Coast: Art Colonies of New England. Charles Herbert Woodbury (1864-1940) was a leading teacher and artist in Ogunquit, Maine. From the book: "One farmer is reported to have said of Woodbury, "I don't know now he could have got 150 dollars for a picture of my cow. I didn't give but 35 for her in the first place, and it don't look like her anyway."

Farm Fields

I feel like this one is a slight departure. But one has to try all kinds of things.

P.S. And keep trying. What you see now is a revision.

Mountain Pond

When I was at the site with the great view in Vermont, I happened to look behind me, and this is what I saw. The sun came out just long enough.

At the Gate

The bottom photograph I took when I was feeling as if I was in heaven. This was on Monday. I started a small oil painting, a quick sketch. Then one of the farm hands drove up in his tractor and opened the gate, to haul feed to the cows in the pasture beyond. I had to move out of his way, and since he left the gate open, my day at this spot was done. The pastel at the top captures my initial feeling about the place. Of course, I have been there many times before, and have always wanted to paint this location with the stream that runs on the other side of the gate. Next time I may be able to stay longer.

Variable

It's been a variable weekend. I did a couple drawings, and three oils, and finally made it to the splendid view in North Pownal/South Bennington, but the weather has not cooperated. One more day tomorrow to hope for less wind and fewer clouds. The bottom bw shows Luce Road, the next two are the top of Stratton where the road comes to the top and bends sharply and down right. The top two are of the view, which is in the midst of an apple orchard. The trees are bulging with apples, like grapes on a vine. I brought an apple of my own to eat, but decided against it. Somebody would think I had stolen it.