Plein air lanscape paintings from Santa Barbara and beyond…
This is a bend in the creek on the west fork of Cold Springs Canyon. I loved the patterns and design created by the uplifted geology and the flowing water. I hope you all are finding time to enjoy the wildflowers and pools spring-fed by this winter’s rains.
It is quite a rock scramble with a couple of sketchy sections these days to reach Tangerine Falls these days, but the view is as spectacular as ever. This was always my favorite hike in town before the fires and subsequent landslides. I still love it. Watching the creek over these past years has been a lesson in the resiliency of nature and the ability of water to carve new pools and find an ever-evolving, effortless and beautiful path to the sea.
So many colors to paint out there and so little time! The morning mist was burning off as I made this painting from the top of Eling’s Park. The second was capturing the mustard bloom from the one of my favorite trailheads.
Can you smell the green grass on this one? I was standing knee deep in lush spring greens as I painted it. The cloud was very cooperative and just hovered right there for most of the painting session.
Plein Air painting means painting outdoors… but on this particular rainy day I set up my French easel indoors. It was warm and dry and I got to see the landscape outside soak up the cool water. Fascinating to realize the unexpected colors you find yourself painting the top of the oak table when the reflected light comes into play.
The painting below was painted from the interior of Santa Cruz Island and reminds me of an earlier California before development.
I rode my bike out to Campus Point one morning last week to be rewarded with glowing orange sandstone reflecting off a glassy ocean at high tide. Since this was a studio painting, rather than racing the sun trying to catch the color before it changed I was able to really think about composition and the abstract qualities of the painting, trying to make sure all the shapes and lines lead the viewer in.
I’m excited for the coming storm… enjoy the rain everybody!
Sometimes it flows low in the canyons, deftly weaving and gracefully twisting on the path of least resistance. Other times it drifts spaciously along like a vapor riding the breeze. And so do we, since it makes up the majority of our bodies.
I love views where I can see the water in the creek twisting and turning on the path back home to mother ocean. The sun was getting low this afternoon causing that play of light and shadow that I enjoy so much when I’m painting. The canvas almost blew away on this one as the winds whipped up the canyon, but my reflexes dropped my brush to grab the easel.
I had scoped out the site the day before hiking with my daughter. I’ve been forgetful lately and didn’t bring a panel, but she kindly tore a page out of her sketchbook for me to paint on…
If you’ve scrambled up the rocky ledge to the east of Mission Canyon you might recognize this sandstone tower that is getting ready to burst with chaparral flowers like sage and ceanothus… it is going to be a gorgeous spring!
Some of the distant rocks that make up the bones of our local mountains turn out to be striking monoliths when you encounter them close up, abstractly sculpted by wind and rain and roots and time. What is the hole? Is it a window, a keyhole, a peephole, an eye, a passage, a feature in a pirate’s map, an ancient observatory, a sundial, a blue circle, a sky pizza, a frame for a hawk, a lizard’s flytrap, a bird’s playground? This one had at least a dozen possible titles but I’m a sucker for alliteration.
Kevin Gleason Art 