More Paintings from Acadia National Park

I still have more sketches from Maine to scan-- it takes a while to scan even a fairly small selection of sketches from three sketch books, and the past couple of weeks I've happily been spending time painting rather than sitting in front of a screen. But, it's dark now and I'm a bit tired from hiking in the Catskills today, so I figured I'd sit in front of my computer for a little while. Of course by now I have some local paintings I've done, so I have still more to scan and post. I'll get to those sometime after I've posted my Maine paintings and sketches. For now, here are a number of the watercolors I did in Maine, along with a couple I've finished up at home.

I struggled a bit with my painting while I was away. For me, sketching is usually very relaxing and calming, whereas attempting to do a finished watercolor painting can sometimes be a bit stressful. It depends; sometimes it flows and I feel completely caught up in painting and time passes without my awareness. Other times, though, the wind chills me and dries my paints too fast, my fingers get stiff and don't do anything I want them to do with my brush, the light changes so fast I can't keep up with it, and I get frustrated.

When I was first at Acadia, I had a couple of easy painting days, then a few days when it felt as though my brushes were bewitched and wouldn't do anything they were supposed to do. I felt discouraged and had to take a step back, to spend some time hiking, sketching and praying to recenter myself. When I had started getting frustrated, I had begun comparing myself negatively to other artists, so I had to remind myself to paint in a way that is true to who I am and not feel that I need to paint like other artists.

Schoodic Point at sunset

After a day of reflection, I returned to my painting with more focus and a more relaxed confidence that allowed me to immerse myself in what I was doing and paint from my heart and out of my connection with whatever aspect of creation I was observing at the moment. This was one of the biggest lessons I came away with from my time as artist-in-residence. The concentrated time immersed in art with no other distractions brought the issue unavoidably to my attention and pretty much forced me to deal with it, which then set me free to move forward. Again, I am so thankful to the Schoodic Institute and the park service for the opportunity to develop as an artist through my time there.

Arey Cove

Little Moose Island

Before sunset at Schoodic Point

Schoodic Point sunset glow

Schoodic Point Sunset

Eider Duck (male)

Storm Clouds coming in on Schoodic Peninsula

Otters!

Little Moose Island

Schoodic Point low tide rocks

The next two paintings are ones I did from my car at Schoodic Point during a tremendous storm. The waves were HUGE and the spray was rising up higher than the parking lot, which is quite a bit above the water.

Schoodic Point storm

Schoodic Point storm

Acadia National Park: More Wonders all the Time

I can't believe I've already been here a week and a half, more than half my time. I could stay here for months and not see and experience all I'd like to, but I am making the most of every day I have in this rich place. 

Today the wind is blowing hard and it is raining. The rain started when I was in the middle of a plein air painting, sitting out on the rocks of Schoodic Point, painting the tremendous surf. I'm not sure yet how I'll finish that painting, but it's likely to have some interesting effects from getting rained on.

Earlier this morning I saw the otter family again. They cavorted their way around the edge of their pond, then saw me and waited a while, swimming back and forth and sticking their heads up to look at me, making occasional squeaky sounds. Finally they came up the bank and loped across the roads-- so funny looking! 

Shortly after I saw the otters, I saw a huge number of gulls along the shore, some on the water, some on the stony shore, and some in the air (all in the air when an eagle flew by). While I was looking at them, I saw a bird in the water that stood out as something different. Heavy, thick bill, very clear black and white pattern with a small whitish area in the black of the side of the head. About the size of a small duck, but with straighter neck and bill held out fairly straight in front. When it dived I saw a sharp black tail. Razorbill! Another new bird for my life list!

Below are some of my sketches and paintings from the past week. If you click on the image, you'll see a larger version.

Great Black-backed Gull field sketch (he posed for a long time)

Herring Gull field sketch (also posed patiently)

Raven's Nest- beautiful but scary place to paint

Rocks and Surf (artistic license with colors)

Rocks on Little Moose Island

Sunset from Cadillac Mountain

Rock and autumn blueberry bushes

Hudson River Watercolor

The trees may not have leaves yet, but spring really is finally arriving here in New York. Two days ago I went to Bowdoin Park, sat in the warm sun overlooking the Hudson River, and played with my paints. I love the varied colors of the land all year, and I especially like the more subtle melange of colors in an early spring landscape, when grasses are starting to green up and shrubs are just barely gaining a hint of color from buds swelling with the promise of vibrant color to come.

Hudson River
Watercolor 6" x 12"

To see this and other paintings that are available, please visit my Etsy Shop:
Melissa Fischer's Art

The Retreat of Winter

I stood on my deck in the marginally warm sunshine this afternoon and, looking south, painted the stream, which is finally free of ice, and whose banks are slowly appearing from beneath Winter's heavy blanket.

Like winter in Narnia retreating before Aslan's advance, the snow is gradually yielding to Spring's sunshine. The west facing bank of the stream is now snow-free, but the east facing side is still covered. The mornings are cold enough that early in the day the sun can't muster the warmth to melt the snow, but the afternoons are warmer now, so the south and west facing areas are clearing.

Delicate Arch

We visited Arches National Park a few years ago and hiked out to Delicate Arch in the late afternoon. Once there we sat quietly for a while, just absorbing the immensity of the place. I just painted this from a photo we took when there, all the while remembering the wonder of what that world is like.

Delicate Arch Watercolor Painting

7" x 10"

Available for purchase

Autumn along the Rail Trail

Colors are close to peak, and here and there are spots of brilliance, with the fragrance of fall in every breath. This afternoon I meandered along the Rail Trail, pausing to listen and look for birds, to savor the reds, yellows and oranges of the trees, and to breathe deeply of the refreshing autumn air. When the air is like this, cool and filled with leaf fragrance, I feel as though I could bypass eating; the air itself is satisfying and nourishing to soul and body. 

I stopped by Lake Walton to sketch, surrounded by ducks in the water, migrating warblers in the trees, chipmunks foraging in fallen leaves, and color all around... times like this, I forget all else and am simply present in the moment.

Darkness and Dawn

Darkness and Dawn

I woke up and glanced out the bedroom window to see streaks of light breaking the darkness, crossing the night sky with hints of the new day. Racing to my studio, I painted this in the dark; if I had turned on a light, I would no longer have been able to see what was dim but dramatic in the early dawn light beyond my window. As I look at the sky on such mornings, I can't help wondering how often our lights, sounds, and other ways of adapting our world obscure from our view the often-silent beauty of that which is beyond our control and is far more majestic than anything we can create. 

This is one of the paintings on display at the East Fishkill Library until Friday this week.

Winter Sparkle

Watercolor 5x7 (8x10 framed)

Winter Sparkle

I stood at my front door, every few minutes stepping briefly out into the winter cold, attempting to capture the magic of the early morning sunshine sparkling on the stream as it wound its way through the woods. This is the view I see every morning, sometimes covered with snow (as it is today), sometimes green with lush growth, and often in the winter, nearly monochromatic, which makes the sparkle of the stream in the sunlight all the more captivating.

This watercolor is currently on display at the East Fishkill Library and is available for $200, matted and framed. If interested, please contact me at naturepainter@hotmail.com.

Bash Bish Falls

Watercolor 13x9

Bash Bish Falls

I’ve visited this waterfall in southwestern Massachusetts many time, sometimes sketching it, sometimes just enjoying the ever-changing pattern of the falls. Over the years I’ve sketched it on location a few times and have done several paintings of it in my studio. I hope to do many more paintings of these falls over the years, observing and documenting how the flow of the water changes over time.

This painting is currently on display at the East Fishkill Library in Hopewell Junction, NY. If interested in purchasing it, please contact me at naturepainter@hotmail.com. 

Painting in the Adirondacks

Last week I spent two soul-refreshing days in the quiet and beauty of the Adirondacks. A friend invited me to her place in the North Woods Club, accessible only by a 10 mile long dirt road that gets progressively narrrower and bumpier the closer one gets to one's destination. Of course there was no cell signal along the road, and I was hoping (at times doubting) that I was on the correct road. Nevertheless, as my car bounced along over stones and rocks, I marveled at the scenery on all sides, from the small scale beauty of a stream gurgling on rocks beside the road to the breathtaking vista of a spruce-lined pond with a backdrop of bluish mountains. I figured that even if I were on the wrong road, it was a fine place to be lost.

Happily I was not lost, and eventually arrived at my friend's house, already awed by the place and eager to pull out sketchbook and paints. Within minutes I was on the deck, sketching the mountains, while sampling a variety of delicious cheeses and chatting with my friend. As evening drew near, we drove to nearby Mink Pond, loaded up a rowboat with provisions, and rowed across the pond to a fire pit on an island, where we cooked steaks and home fries (and, of course, I sketched). Steaks grilled over a campfire taste better than almost anything else, especially after a long day of travel. Only one party at a time is allowed to sign out a rowboat for a given pond or lake, so we had Mink Pond to ourselves. As I watched the reflections on water and the colors of sunset, I marveled that there was no sound of traffic anywhere around-- such a welcome sound of silence.

--Click on photos to see images large enough to read notes--

Polaris Mountain from the deck of the house

West Bay of Mink Pond from Mink Island

Sunset over West Bay of Mink Pond

Sunrise from my bedroom window

Looking toward Mud Pond from Prospect Rock

The second day I was there, we drove along a very long, very, very bumpy road (more like a rock-strewn path through the woods) to a more distant lake-- Split Rock Lake. There we loaded up rowboats and rowed a fairly long way across to a fire pit and lean-to, where we made a fire and prepared to cook burgers, when suddenly storm clouds appeared across the lake. We quickly doused the fire and rowed back through rain, thankfully making it across before there was any thunder and lightning. I love storms, so once back at the house, I happily sketched cloudy skies.

Stormy afternoon view of Beaver Mountain

 

On my final morning visiting, I again woke early enough to watch the sky turn from dull gray to pink-tinted gray, to a full-blown wash of pink, orange, and purple. Both mornings I was there, I heard loons start calling on the lake just as the first hint of color appeared in the clouds.

I departed reluctantly but well-refreshed, having thoroughly enjoyed good time with friends, the splendor of nature, and the quiet of the deep woods.