Yesterday I was in “Beautiful Downtown Burbank” again painting. I’m not sure what exactly draws me to paint these city streets – is it the shapes of the buildings, the colors of the facades, the lines of the road and walkways, or all the above? This was painted in front of the “Urban Press Winery” looking across at the “Tender Greens” store. I have quite a collection of cityscapes, I imagine they would look good hanging in a local restaurant.
The Santa Monica Beach Pier was very crowded this Sunday – the result of a confluence of events: St. Patrick’s Day, Spring Break, mid 80s Fahrenheit inland, and the first weekend in a while it didn’t rain.
It didn’t stop me from getting in a quick Plein air painting of the beach crowds waiting for the sunset.
This view of this painting is from Palm Avenue looking north across San Fernando Boulevard (in Burbank, California.) This part of Palm Avenue is blocked for only pedestrian traffic and houses a movie theater and many restaurants and stores. It was a bright, warm late morning when I started painting and the acrylic paint was drying fast.
Today I found a place to paint on Rainbow Canyon Road in Temecula, California, which is famous for its wineries and rolling hills. It was a clear, brisk day and the sky seemed enormous as I looked down into the valley. The sky was full of half-darkened clouds that floated by too high to care what was going on below. My painting is a mixture of old and new styles that I hoped would capture the hills, sky, and clouds I enjoyed today.
Eaton Canyon is a park at the base of the Angeles National forest and Mount Wilson. Its creek was full of water from the recent rains, which apparently weren’t over because it rained enough on me to smear my under-painting. When the rain-cloud passed I was able to salvage it by using my painting style from last year.
I was painting with the Warrior Painters yesterday. After a short hike I did a plein air study of the Observatory sitting on the hills. After raining all week, it was nice to be out in the sunshine. An hour or so later, I wished I hadn’t left my hat in the car.
Sunday morning my daughter and I headed west in search of a new place to paint. I exited the freeway at Tampa on a hunch and noticed a park on the map, called Wilbur Tampa Park. Instead of finding green grass and picnic benches, a tall cliff greeted us with a wooden-fenced trail around its belly. I drove around to where the top of the cliff was level with the road and parked. The view of the valley took a while to take in: tract houses below, the valley with a thin layer of morning haze still on it, the mountains to the south and west, the gaping blue sky with streaked with clouds and contrails. I could have at least made three paintings there that day but had to settle on one.