Illustrating Trees
I’ve spent my entire life surrounded by trees. Around here, there have been whispers of seemingly mythological and far off places that aren’t shrouded with green. I myself have witnessed Portland visitors marvel, jaws agape, over the sheer amount of trees. I have hugged them, cried when they burned, picnicked in their shade, smelled vanilla scented sap, but yet, I’ve never been able to paint them to my liking until this year.
En Plein Air
The crowd was in the thousands. All drawn to the park toting pizza, wine, and puppies with the lure of a free comedy show. We got there an hour early. I wanted to look around at the plants before hand, but when we arrived throngs of thirty-year-olds were marching by to claim a spot on the hills.
I’m not a crowd person. If I had arrived any later and caught a glimpse of how massive the crowd would be, I would have shamelessly abandoned ship. It formed around us. I didn’t notice until I was fully engulfed and my plans to ‘sit in the back’ were thwarted. I still felt lackadaisical from my dentist prescribed anxiety medication. So instead of tugging on Alex’s shirt and begging him to leave, I decided my best bet was to tune everyone out and paint.
That’s when the magic happened.
“I‘ll paint the top of the trees.” My eyes and thoughts wandered above the sea of forced laughter (the show wasn’t good).
Sometimes, when you’ve got no business to be creating, the ever elusive ‘breakthrough’ joins you. There in my tiny five dollar sketchbook sat Mr. Breakthrough. My heart quickened. I’ve got it. This must have been how Elizabeth felt when Mr. Darcy’s silhouette emerged in the dew dripping dawn. It was almost as if it didn’t come out of my own brush. It just appeared. And how simple. Why hadn’t I thought of this before? After years of pining, trees were no longer a mystery to paint. In fact, they were easy.
The Sketchbook Page
Laurelhurst Park Plein Air
After that I got hooked on illustrated Plein Air painting. ‘Let’s go to the park. I’ll bring my paints. You bring a book.’ And so the ever patient Mr. Alex would tote the art supplies of a hopeful Mrs. Alex to the park where she painted and talked his ear off. The book would be left forgotten in the bag.
Twilight Plein Air
The Park: An Illustrated Plein Air
My Plain Head
The sun proved fickle to capture. For a fleeting glance the trees would kaleidoscope golden strings, the sky would splash pink before melting into twilight, or the far off trees would glow from the inside.
I cast aside Plein Air in those moments. ‘I have to paint THAT from my plain head.’ I told Alex.
Setting Sun
Palm Sized Landscape. 1.5” x 1.5”
Setting Sun Over Forest Park
Clown Delivery
A group of artists. A single prompt. Clown. Delivery. My mom gasped ‘But you’re terrified of clowns!’
Indeed I am. What kind of trustworthy grown man wants to be a circus clown and why should I let him hug me?
I painted the most frightening thing I could think of. This particular clown is driving to deliver your mail. You live in a tiny cabin in the isolated woods. He’s on his way! Thankfully, in this illustration he’s safely behind glass. But he’s there. I know he’s there.
Another breakthrough of trees happened. How was I going to paint this in forty-five minutes? Making the trees blobs. That’s how. And it worked.
Clown Delivery. A 45 minute prompt.
