Early Morning Light, Brancaster Staithe

Oil on Board 10 x 14 inches. 

This one I originally painted as a demo last year, so dug it out and tidied it up to get to exhibition standard, refining the drawing and adding more details. I do enjoy painting mud in Norfolk, when the sunlight is reflecting off it - the dark stones and mussel shells can be depicted with a palette knife dragged across the sticky, drying paint underneath - just a lovely aspect of oil paint.

Broad Haven Breaker

 Oil on Board, 9 x 12 inches. 

This one is intended for the RSMA exhibition in October. I had to ensure I got the colours and tone of the wave spume registered correctly, so that the bright, white sparkles on the flat sea appeared very bright to give that sensation that the viewer was looking into the light.

Rainstorm at Morcott

Oil on board 4.5 x 5.75 inches

Yes, I know I said 'Sunset over the Mill' was going to be my last little one for the time being, but I found I had 6 frames, not 5, so here is definitely the last one for now! 

Storm clouds are so dramatic seen from a distance, and coupled with rape fields, May blossom and Cow Parsley, it made a great subject for a painting. Might do a watercolour version of this..

Sunset over the Mill

Oil on board, 4.5 x 5.75 inches. 

The last of my series of tiddlers for now, I based this partly on a photo I took yesterday on the way home from Stamford - the sun was a fireball just about to slip below the cloud, and I didn't have my camera with me, so I raced back and of course, the sun had gone, but I took a couple of snaps anyway and tried to remember how it looked, and with the aid of the sunset behind be in the studio just now, I substituted the rest.

Oil on board, 5.75 x 4.5 inches 

Another little Spring painting of the River Welland near home - a lovely stretch of river as it winds through meadows. The sparkle on the water was the real 'hook' for the painting, and placing these last made the painting come to life with that little extra impact.

Grazers by the Welland

Oil on Board, 4.5 x 5.75 inches.

I've deliberately cut the size of the photo down to approximately life-size, otherwise the large file shows the brushstrokes as very clumsy and I wanted them to look brilliant, ha ha!

Bluebells and Campions, Short Wood

Oil 4.5 x 5.75 inches

Short Wood at Glapthorn, near Oundle, is one of the finest Bluebell woods in the country, always begging to be painted!

May at Barnsdale

Oil on Board, 4.5 x 5.75 inches

Having just done a 24 x 36 oil, a handbrake turn onto a diddy painting! A tiny size, but plenty of palette knife work in the foreground tree and nearer foliage, and a lot of work with the 1" decorator's brush.

The Fairy Pools, Isle of Skye

Oil on Canvas, 24 x 36 inches

I've been working on this big commissioned painting on and off for a couple of weeks now, and it's finally finished, ready to go to its home at Portree on Skye. 

Getting the relative tones right was the main concern - the gorgeous blue tones of the distant mountains was paramount to make them appear much further away and give the painting depth. 

Onwards now to paint some smaller Spring paintings, as Summer is rushing towards us at a great rate of knots!

Glint on the Water

Oil on Board, 10 x 7.5 inches

Sometimes, the simplest of subjects can prove quite compelling, as was the case here. Generally, this view wouldn't have cried out "paint me", but at the moment the sun poked through the clouds straight ahead of me and the blinding reflected light bounced off the water with scattered jewels of twinkling diamonds, I knew it was a painting. 

Snow is white as we all know, but when facing into the light, it is predominantly in shadow, and with pure sunlight on the water, everything else, including the snow, had to be a tone or two down from it to appear convincing. You can see how relatively dark the snow is in the foreground compared to the white of the surrounding page and the light on the water.  This is often where amateur paintings fall down - keen observation and consequent translation through the brain, down through the hands is the critical thing which separates a painting that just doesn't convince the viewer, from one that does.

Sundown at Uffington

 Oil on Board, 9 x 12 inches

I went out to paint one afternoon at 4pm, determined to get a little en plein air piece done/half-done, and here's the result...half-done, in an hour-and-a-quarter. I was surprisingly warm, despite a howling gale blowing behind me, but with my padded old painting coat which Jane loves (haha!), overtrousers, scalf and Muckboots (unbelievably warm for the feet), it was all fine, except that...I didn't have my specs with me, durgh! Having set up, I was not going to let a tiny thing like being unable to see the board in front of me stop me, oh no! It was super-challenging with the sun moving incredibly quickly straight ahead of me, and chasing the light (doubly blinding) isn't a good idea. I persevered, and these two pics are one hour apart, and you can see how much the light changed and moved as the sun went down. The painting looked awful when I got home and finally put my glasses on, but I managed to rescue it with the aid of a couple of photos. Great experience though, nonetheless, out in the raw, and when clearing up, unable to wear gloves, frostbite soon set-in the fingers with temperatures around -7, but a simple swipe with a sharp knife soon got rid of all four fingers and I'm as right as rain now

Nature Notes

Nature Notes:I had a walk alongside the river after the heavy snowfall a couple of weeks ago, and within a couple of hundred yards, startled a Brown Hare just six feet from me, near the bank, and as it shot off like a...Hare...I just managed to get a snap of it before it was a hundred yards away as fast as a Ferrari would have got there. Second pic shows its 'form', the term for a Hare's resting place, quite cosy beneath a covering of vegetation and snow, a nice little igloo, before yours truly disturbed him.
Spot the Swans in the next pic - can you see them, just before they slipped into the water? So well camouflaged - surely they evolved from Arctic regions and haven't caught up yet with green!

These next three pics show a Grey heron after it had seen me before I it. I love the way the long neck acts like an independant counter-weight, moving backwards and forwards as the rest of the body gains momentum.

It was really hard-going, walkng a couple of miles through thick snow - up to the top of the wellies, and over, as you can see here:

Some of the snow had a hard crust on it and I could walk ON it, but every few steps the boot would sink down 18 inches, as you can see in this next photo, and I was exhausted at the end. I did also attempt to cross over the river in the shallows....but not quite shallow enough...yes, you guessed it, a bootful of icey water later, I had an even more uncomfortable track back to the car.

This last pic shows the Winterwonderland view from the house looking down to my studio before my outside light went off, as the snow continued to fall - just love that long shadow of the Oak tree!

Three more 6 x 8s!

 A Corner of the Welland

A little oil from a recent trip to my river. Grey day, but the snow looks so white when it's overcast like this.

 Bank Drift

This one was all about that amazingly sculpted snow drift on the opposite bank. There were so many such drifts on the roadsides around here, but I've never seen snow drifts like this on a riverbank - just beautiful!

Snow by the Welland

Here's the last of my subdued snow paintings, well, not subdued paintings - they were all completed with slashing gusto, obviously...🙄🤔 The lighting was subdued, making the snow appear very white. I do love the subtle colours of Winter, without the flashy greens of summer, and in this one there were maroons, browns, greens, ochres and blues, as well as the obvious white.

Glint of Sunlight

 

Here are a few stage photos showing the painting evolving to the finished article, which I know some folks like to see. The painting is only a little one, at 6 x 8 inches.

Tracks in the Frost

Oil on Board, 6 x 8 inches

I love painting into the light, and when there's a frost, what more could you want? Frozen grass is particularly gorgeous, and to capture the surprising array of silvers, blues, purples, greys and pinks is a lovely challenge. Winter, although devoid of Summer's rich greens, has a bounty of subtle colours - how lucky to be able to earn a living from painting such beauty!