Seven Mile Beach is spectacular when you round that bend and catch that first glimpse. I always feel a sense of inadequacy when I realise I will be painting the landscape. Will I do it justice? What will I do? How can I share the passion of what I see? I sort of had a general sense of something coming. I had experimented last week with fluro bases. I wanted to take this further, see what happened to colour. I returned to my nest of banksia babies, still untouched, set up the gear and got down to the business. The beautiful subtle greys and umberish colours over the fluro seemed a travesty but for me it was the discovery of colour and edges. The gradual intrusion of fluros is everywhere -signs, vests, cyclists. It needs to be dealt with – the same way Corot dealt with industry in landscape, it’s there and rather than ignore it, work with it. Sue had brought pikelets, just warm with jam. Maybe my colour solution is as simple as pikelets -use everyday ingredients to come up with a treat -colour.
Painting at Seven Mile Beach was a great distraction from the Lake. I felt like I had saturated myself. This week in the National Park grounds with filtered light and angular gums was a really welcome change. I focussed on some cut trees, where the shapes were interesting and nestled in the open wound someone had laid Banksia babies like a nest of some strange bird. Last weeks hyper-flouro colours of floats, buoys and signs had become a nagging thought. With a link to Kandinsky’s exploration of undercolour in a painting, I had put down a ground of fluro yellow on my page and wanted to incorporate it into a new landscape. It seemed such a jarring anti-organic basis but was interesting in overlaying subtle greys. There’s something there that needs more….once again you get a little comfort but more questions. We swapped cake, ideas & nuts. Home grown Kiwi fruit and tamarillos fresh from the Valley.
Well the Picknick Painters were a mixed bag the last week. We met at Gerroa, we got a taste of the Autumn sun while we had our cuppa. The sounds of a group of young Mums with kids at the playground were fairly distant. We broke out the paints, the clouds came over and the wind chill set in – the kids were now closer and the sounds more disturbing. Andrea had provided birthday sausages for the BBQ at lunch, the rain came and we were now openly wishing the children to drop through the grate they had been jumping on earlier.
We break for the holidays now for 2 weeks, retreating into our studios like bitter old women we are. I do remember being a young mum, squealing children on the swings and never remember hat-clad old women drawing on park benches. I’m glad I’ve lived both.
Did a couple of gouache on paper-may work larger and stopped on the way home to sketch Mt Coolangatta its a great shape sitting very hill-like on the flats. I think the little sketch of that will work better.