No. 337, "Three and One"

No. 337, "Three and One"  watercolor

This painting is SOLD!

It may be surprising to learn that the paint color used most in No. 337, "Three and One," is yellow. I went through two packs of yellow watercolor in reproducing this peaceful countryside.

Yellow, you see, is the perfect blender.  It brightens greens, lightens browns, makes whites less harsh and provides a good transition between light and dark spaces.
Truly the only place yellow doesn't work is in the sky.

There is a lot of blending going on in this image, and it's not all in the paint. Take a good look: There's a road cutting through the scenery, with a guardrail and highway signs. There are utility poles and wires strung across the trees. A fence has been erected to hold back the traffic but to keep in the four horses: Three socialites and one loner.

What is striking about this place is that the human footprints upon the land have not substantially altered its beauty. A person can stand at that fence and see for miles.
In fact, that's precisely what I did, and how I felt, at the start of summer. I snapped a phone picture of this green place from a driveway, as I was getting into my car to head down that road. But I knew from that moment that I would transfer it to paints.

But I'm not going to tell you where it is.  I thought about it, but it's not my place to do so, other than to say it's in Trumbull County, Ohio.
But I have been there a few times. I like visiting even though I know zero about horses, other than they are pretty -- and big.
Its isolation is, I believe, a necessity. This is about as natural as a place can get.
It's so very quiet.
It should stay that way.

The real thing.

 About the painting:

"Three and One" began untitled and at first was an ink rendering. Of course I always intended to color it, but I wanted the horses and fences and railings, as well as the tree skeletons, to stand out. It's such a bright scene but the sun created deep and dark shadows -- so dark that they required inking.

The next step was a watercolor wash of blues, browns and greens -- plus yellow!

The sky actually remained simply that first watercolor wash, with the exception of some tinkering with the white clouds. The watercolor blues soaked into the paper and created a rippled, mottled effect that is accidentally cloud-like.  So I didn't fuss with it.

The tree line was another matter entirely:  It took four days to flesh out those tall trees  They are a mixture of black, blues, greens, browns -- and yellows.  I watered down white acrylic paint and added some blue to create the illusion of skylight between the branches, using a very fine brush.

The grasses also benefited from the rippling and mottling of the watercolor yellow, green, brown and blue into the paper. This created the effect of terrain, which I added to with other brush strokes to create grasses, rocks, dirt and wood.  Maybe even some manure!

The horses were last to be finished. I went over that black ink with black paint, then red, then brown, and then white -- to create the look of shiny bodies and smooth out their shadows. Really the shadows were a blessing, simplifying the drawing while at the same time creating a central visual to draw the eye.

These elements of ink and color have blended to recreate on paper a picture that is already perfect in reality.

Thank you, love ya ...

No. 336: Swinging with Joni Mitchell

Joni Mitchell by Tom Wills, July 2016.  Pencil. 

"When the world becomes a massive mess with nobody at the helm, it's time for artists to make their mark."

Some 25 years ago, I took my brother's Joni Mitchell album "Dog Eat Dog" (1985) from our dad's basement, along with Steely Dan's Greatest Hits. If he didn't know about my theft, he does now.
(Update | He now has the picture hanging in his home!)
I'd already gathered up "Don Juan's Reckless Daughter." (1977) "Heijira," (1976) and "Mingus"  (1979) from record store cut-out bins and found fascinating the jazzy interplay among the musicians.
They were practically giving these records away, apparently because most people couldn't get their heads around the involved compositions and deep (and lengthy) lyric sheets.
Plus I thought she was kinda sexy.

You know it never has been easy
Whether you do or you do not resign
Whether you travel the breadth of extremities
Or you stick to some straighter line

So when I write about and draw Joni Mitchell, I'm thinking of her jazzier, more rocking side -- although I did eventually gather up all of those early, high-pitched acoustic albums that made her famous.
As I drew and wrote I listened to "The Hissing of Summer Lawns" (1975) through "Turbulent Indigo" (1995), which I believe is her most interesting period of work. There's the aforementioned jazzy stuff plus some of the later music incorporates a few jolts of electric rock guitar and funk. I also checked out "Miles of Aisles," a 1974  live album with somewhat jazzier versions of her earlier output.

There's a lot of stylistic overlap as her musical tastes changed, and throughout it's amazing to me that Joni Mitchell's voice has survived.
It's cigarettes, you see. A habit so dear to her that she once wrote a song  with the instrumentation based only on tape-looping the sound of pulling on a cigarette machine knob.
She told The Telegraph in 2007: "It's one of life's great pleasures …  I have smoked since I was 9, so obviously it didn't affect my early work that much."
Her singing voice has noticeably changed over the years, so now she has two instantly recognizable voices: falsetto (hi) and vibrato (low)

Sometimes change comes at you
Like the broadside accident
There is chaos to the order
Random things you can't prevent
There could be trouble around the corner
There could be beauty down the street

Another thing that I have always liked is the relationship between her music and art. At first she had wanted to be a painter, but an English teacher inspired her to “paint with words” So she wound up doing both quite fabulously.
See for yourself at http://jonimitchell.com/paintings/

People will tell you where they've gone
They'll tell you where to go
But till you get there yourself
You never really know

As I built my jazz collection it dawned on me that the great jazz cats were turning up on Mitchell's records: Jaco Pastorius ("The Greatest Bass Player in the World"), Wayne Shorter, Herbie Hancock, Pat Metheny, Peter Erskine, Charles Mingus and others. Mingus wanted to collaborate with her, presenting six songs for Mitchell to pair with lyrics. From this came her album, Mingus.
It's not all easy listening. Sometimes the chords are odd and the rhythms are tribal, and occasionally the topics are uncomfortable or downright unpleasant. Just as often the music is bracing or uplifting.
The challenge brings the reward of music that you cannot forget.
A really good overview of her first 10 albums is here: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/music/cdreviews/9655783/The-Studio-Albums-1968-1979-by-Joni-Mitchell-review.html

I picked the morning paper off the floor
It was full of other people's little wars
Wouldn't they like their peace ...

She has really long hands and fingers, clearly evolved for guitar and piano, which gave me fits to draw. They are in the foreground of the picture and clasped, and it was a little hard to see where one handful ended and the other began.  So I tinkered and shaded and erased and worked these hands for four nights until I got them reasonably human. Really they are still not just right but sometimes you have to know when to stop.

Mitchell kept her hair long and blond but didn't fight the aging process, or hide from it, perhaps seeing the changes to her face as another chapter, a new challenge, a further evolution of self. I respect that immensely.
Be a fighter but know the fights you can win.
This is an illuminating video:   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fUu1MvnAecc

She had a brain aneurysm in 2015, following a period of organizing her vast catalog and withdrawal from performing. There's not a lot of detail out there about her progress, although some reports say she's home and speaking well and has resumed her painting.
I will assume she is not using broad strokes, striving instead to bring out the finer details.

"I know my generation - a lot of them, they're getting old now, and they want to think back fondly, they want to kid themselves. A lot of them think, 'Yeah, we were the best.' That's the kiss of death. That's non-growth. And also that's very bad for the world." 

The Joni Mitchell lyric excerpts are published by Crazy Crow Music.
This illustration is sold.
Contact willstom01@gmail.com or hankbonesman@embarqmail.com

I know my generation - a lot of them, they're getting old now, and they want to think back fondly, they want to kid themselves. A lot of them think, 'Yeah, we were the best.' That's the kiss of death. That's non-growth. And also that's very bad for the world. Joni Mitchell
Read more at: http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/j/joni_mitchell_4.html

I know my generation - a lot of them, they're getting old now, and they want to think back fondly, they want to kid themselves. A lot of them think, 'Yeah, we were the best.' That's the kiss of death. That's non-growth. And also that's very bad for the world. Joni Mitchell
Read more at: http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/j/joni_mitchell_4.html

I know my generation - a lot of them, they're getting old now, and they want to think back fondly, they want to kid themselves. A lot of them think, 'Yeah, we were the best.' That's the kiss of death. That's non-growth. And also that's very bad for the world. Joni Mitchell
Read more at: http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/j/joni_mitchell_4.html

I know my generation - a lot of them, they're getting old now, and they want to think back fondly, they want to kid themselves. A lot of them think, 'Yeah, we were the best.' That's the kiss of death. That's non-growth. And also that's very bad for the world. Joni Mitchell
Read more at: http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/j/joni_mitchell_4.html