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I have been considering painting animals lately. Studying and drawing birds kept me enthralled in younger years. All of those pieces now live in lovely homes, and my focus has been on capturing the spirit of the outdoors in paint and canvas for years.

All along, I have been involved with horses, dogs, and cats. My neighbors have sheep, goats, and chickens. Deer, elk, bobcat, coyotes, mountain lions, rabbits, and a multitude of other animals live around me.

They call to me with their beauty and spirit, and the opportunity to turn my artistic attention their way has come from a friend's desire to have a painting of a rooster in her kitchen. I dodged it at first, and found a lovely painting in a gallery. "Why don't you paint one?" was the answer that is spurring me on. 

Carolyn, right down the road, used to have a wicked rooster. I called, and things have changed. That old boy is gone; the new rooster is gorgeous, and takes good care of his hens.

Yesterday was a cold afternoon, with a wonderful silvery gold light. A delicate high cloud cover softened the sunlight on winter's pale colors.

The resident young peacock followed me around as I looked for the rooster. I found him with some of the ladies, standing tall and outlined with sunlight. Perfect. He spent some time looking grand, and then decided it was time for he and the flock to run. End of the day's session, but I got what I needed.

We'll see how my experience with the ever-shifting light on the landcape will help me in capturing the elusive character and beauty of a living, breathing creature.

And as usual, inspiration for other paintings and drawings are already crowding in.

To the easel...

I had been searching among the golden mesas of Ghost Ranch for a painting subject, and was about to give up. I turned around...and there was the Pedernal, glowing purple in the early evening light. With little time, but some of the best light of the day, I jumped into the back of my Jeep and painted until it the scene faded into evening. 
The Pedernal is sometimes known as "Georgia's mesa". O'Keeffe was quoted as saying that God had told her that if she painted it enough, he would give it to her. It is a commanding presence in this Northern New Mexico landscape, visible as you drive south from Colorado, and from over in Taos. Yet it's not a big mountain. I climbed it once, and was surprised to find how quickly I could walk from one end to the other. The sunset light captured details that are often not visible, small rims of cliffs that scatter along its lower edges, making it all the more commanding sitting on the horizon against a New Mexico blue sky.

I love to walk up onto the mesa behind my house. From there, I have a 360 view. To the East, I look across open miles of flat-topped mesas with a fine coating of golden grasses, leading back to higher distant mesas, but mostly to the huge sky almost always dancing with clouds. Storms coming in, passing by, clearing up. Sometimes I stand in the sun and watch rain fall in the distance. There are few fences out that way, and I feel lifted by all the open spaces at my feet and above me.

People often ask me how I can love living in Northern New Mexico's high desert when I grew up near the sea. I tell them that there is a sense of space and peace here that equals the ocean's horizon. I am still drawn to water, however. Even in this dry Southwest land, all I need to do is go to the river. There is always something there to paint. Shadows from low-hanging tree branches, sky reflections, reeds along a river bend. Soon geese will be sheltering there, as will heron and cranes.

I love those precious hours of end-of-day light for painting. Forget about having a preconceived notion of my subject. Pack my easel, paints, brushes, medium, and a few blank canvases into my old Jeep, and go. My willingness is usually met with magic. I often see ten paintings for every one I complete.

Or start. A favorite lesson from Scott Christensen during a painting class was to go out and paint "starts". The freedom of just painting to capture a mood, values, some special color quality is tremendous. All of these "starts" can expand in the studio to a more finished painting, bringing the best of two worlds together. I seldom come up with the coloring, values, and composition for a painting in the studio that I can capture painting outdoors, despite fighting light shifts, bugs, chilly fingers, or the panel flying right off the easel in the wind.

The vibrancy of painting outdoors mixed with the quieter pace of working in the studio is a great blend for me, and for my work. Here's to you and yours,
Stede