24×36″ oil on linen– I’ve heard people say that mountains breathe and what they mean was vividly clear to me camping below Banner Peak a couple of weeks ago. Sitting there painting it in gouache (you can see the sketch in my last post) there would be about five to ten minutes of stillness and warm sun. Then, from the direction of the peak I would hear the roar of cold air rushing down its sides… the bands of wind chop would spread across the lake and I’d grip my painting board as Banner’s roaring, icy exhale washed past me for a couple minutes. The rhythm repeated for most of the afternoon.
I was happy to see those glaciers, though shrinking dramatically every year, are still holding on and feeding the San Joaquin river below.
I’m doing a painting demo at the Wilding Museum in Solvang this Sunday from 11-2. I’ll be showing how to develop a painting from a sketch using oils. Come on by and chat for a bit!
When Lauren and I were first dating I asked her what would be the ultimate painting that I could make for her. She said she’d love the view when you are laying on your back looking up into a tree watching the ways the light filters through the stained-glass leaves and the layers of depth. Wow, I thought, that’s a tough one… I’ve been trying ever since and I’m getting closer to the vision. Only in her mind it is a Sycamore Tree and this is an oak, so I’ll keep dancing around this theme.
I thought it would be fun to create a kaleidoscopic image from this painting… would make a good Grateful Dead album cover wouldn’t it?
I love the ocean’s rock sculptures, carved by centuries of erosion, that are arranged on El Matador State Beach… I’m guessing the beach is named because this big one looks like an enormous bull charging out of the surf? The bull’s back is a big elevated garden on stilts for the gulls to look down on their beach from.
This second painting was painted from high up on the ridge above Corral Canyon looking out towards Point Dume. There’s nothing more fun than hiking on a trail I’ve never been on before or painting a beautiful view for the first time.
These are the subjects of some of my recent paintings. I have been enjoying the challenge of creating a paintings every day for the month of September. If you want to see all of them, they can be found here on Instagram. I’ll share brief stories about each one below.
When I asked the Captain of the Sal-C if his boat was going to be parked for a while so I could paint it, he joked, “I painted it last week!” It is an awesome fishing boat that I learned has been out fishing in the Santa Barbara Channel for 91 years.
My favorite feature of our local mountains is Arlington and Cathedral Peaks, the rocks on which can be interpreted as an immense sleeping dragon.
Part of painting every day is sometimes having to squeeze in a quick session into a busy life. Often I don’t have time to be picky about a scene, but just pull out the easel and take what nature throws at this me. If I’m lucky, the wildlife cooperate.
I love the variety of driftwood shelters you stumble upon while walking along the coast. This one that I painted at Ellwood had cords of kelp hanging like strings of lights, party streamers or Tibetan prayer flags blowing in the wind.
This is probably the hardest earned outdoor painting I have made yet… It started with carrying all of my backpacking gear, oil painting gear, easel and two large canvasses a couple thousand feet up to Lamarck Lake. It wasn’t the most practical venture, but I had romantic visions of standing before this breathtaking view with a two foot by three foot canvas over two afternoons of painting. The first day, the wind nearly blew this sail of a canvas and my entire easel into the dirt. I lashed the easel to a heavy rock below and a pine tree windward and held onto it with my left hand (to keep myself from blowing away.) It wasn’t the peaceful experience I was imagining to say the least and the painting made a very effective mosquito trap, with hundreds of the little guys finding themselves impaled in shades of blue and turquoise. In the future, if they ever need to clone a foolish artist, they can extract my DNA Jurassic-Park-Style from this painting.
Day two I spent exploring the tributaries to this lake and anticipating painting like a storm tossed sailer again. Rather, there was a pleasant breeze all afternoon… the experience I was hoping for. To top it off, I made it back to the trailhead without tripping and face planting on my wet painting once.
These are all small recent paintings. They say you can’t cross the same creek twice and you certainly can’t paint it. Every time I go out the light and colors are different. Not only do I love the fog for cooling everything down and making things mysterious in the mornings– it also makes for some fun subtle grey colors to try to paint.
I plan to do a lot of painting this summer (hopefully almost every day.) I really appreciate you all for following my work and don’t want to overwhelm your mailboxes. My plan is to do a weekly digest of a couple favorite paintings from the week like this. If you would like to see more regular posts or don’t want to miss any images, I will post more regularly on Instagram (@kevingleasonart) and on my Facebook Artists’ page, which you can follow by “liking” the main page.
Thanks again for all of your support… I hope you are enjoying the final days of Spring!
The say you can’t cross the same river twice and I think it would also be true to say you can’t watch the same sunset twice from this trail on the edge of the Ellwood Bluffs. This particular afternoon, the water was shimmering and I was squinting… letting in just enough of the brilliance to not see spots before my eyes.
12×24″ oil on panel– The city was washed clean and sparkling after the last storm. Out on the wharf was a great place to take it all in. A magnificent rainbow appeared and I was tempted to paint it in, but usually paintings of rainbows look about as convincing as paintings of unicorns. I went with the unicorn instead– can you see him hiding behind the palm tree?