#How To Paint An October Sunset in Watercolor

[doodlewash]

TUTORIAL: How to Paint an October Sunset in Watercolor

October is a time of year with spectacular colors.  Let’s celebrate by painting an October Sunset. We’ll use wet-into-wet and wet-on-dry techniques, and paint the whole thing with a large flat brush. A flat brush that has bristles with a thin, chisel-shape edge will work best for the marks I’m having you make. Don’t worry if you don’t have the exact tools I’m using — I’ve added a chart of…

[casuallyimagining]

Postcards

Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Summary: Jungkook goes on tour without you, and he sends back mementos to let you know he’s thinking of you. Notes: Part of the Long Term Couples series.  Read more here

The postcards had started to appear in your mailbox in mid-August. One or two a week, sometimes three, always a few days between to space out their appearance. And while it was October and they had been appearing regularly, you had to admit that each one was a surprise.

You thought maybe eventually the novelty would wear off, or that it would become too expensive to send mail to Seoul from halfway across the planet. But their appearance never ceased.

Sometimes, you would find more than one postcard in your mailbox at a time, the handwriting on each different--sometimes sloppy, sometimes cramped, sometimes tall characters, sometimes short ones--but you looked forward to the neat, even-spaced handwriting the most.

It had been months, and even though you talked on the phone every night, you missed Jungkook more than you anticipated.

Any other tour, you’d be there with him and the rest of his members. Any other tour, you were a valuable member of the crew--working with the stagehands and the production staff to make sure every concert ran as smoothly as possible. But this wasn’t a world tour, and really, it hadn’t been planned too far in advance. So as Jungkook and the boys traipsed across Europe and Asia, you were stuck in your apartment with Kimchi, Jungkook’s Jindogae puppy.

The first few postcards were a little worse for wear. Kimchi hadn’t mastered yet to leave things alone when you commanded him, and the postcards--which were just the perfect size for a puppy to steal from your coffee table--had been punished for the pup’s poor behavior.

You worked harder on Kimchi’s training, and you went out and bought little frames to protect the postcards from any further punishment. You had agonized over which side to display at first--knowing Jungkook, he had really put thought into which postcard image to send--but in the end, you decided that the message was more important than the location. You could always flip them later when you were missing him less.

When a new one arrived, you reread the old ones. After a few weeks, you had most of them memorized. And while you loved and cherished them all, the first one was your favorite. Partly because it was the first and it was a surprise, but partly because it was so different from the others.

The front was a photo of London’s Tower Bridge at dusk, the lights on the supports twinkling in the near-darkness. On the back was an image of the Union Jack with the opacity turned way down. The message was a short and simple “London isn’t the same without you. We miss you a lot. I love you! - Kookie,” but it was how it was written that made you smile. The handwriting was the messiest you had ever seen Jungkook produce. It was almost like he was in a hurry, like it was a last-minute, rushed decision. Like he had seen it at the train station and just had to buy it.

The second had arrived with two friends. One, from Jimin, was a picture of a Scottish Terrier in green and red plaid and simply said “Wish you could have come with us! We met a friendly dog wearing a kilt. You would have loved him.” The second was from Yoongi and had a picture of the Clyde River at sunset on the front. On the back, he told you in a fairly lengthy message about their first of three concerts in Glasgow, how much fun they were having, and how much you would love Scotland. The writing was so tiny you could barely read it, and even then, Yoongi had almost run out of space.

The last one was a cute cartoon of a shaggy-haired Highland cow. On the back, Jungkook’s handwriting was neat this time and evenly spaced. No more rushing. This one was intentional. “We saw these cows in person! They reminded me of your hair in the morning!”

A few days later, a postcard from Amsterdam. The following week, ones from Berlin and Paris. By the time the European leg of the tour ended in Barcelona, you had at least one postcard from each of the six other members. You had started hanging them in the small makeshift office space you had in your living room, 12 in total so far, clustered together in what you hoped was a tasteful display.

The messages were mixed. Some, like the ones from Yoongi and Taehyung, were longer and more thoughtful. Hobi’s was just bright musings about his day and a wish for your wellbeing while they’re away. Namjoon had sent one from Amsterdam that also contained vandalism by Jimin. Jin’s from Paris was simply just a collection of jokes he had picked up along the way. Really, they were all very predictable.

Jungkook’s on the other hand… those were all wildcards. And you wouldn’t have it any other way. In addition to his cow from Glasgow, he had sent you one from Amsterdam in which he mused about clogs and windmills, one from Berlin that was just him saying “I love you” in every language he could think of, one from Paris where he just talked about some ice cream he and Jimin had gotten, and one from Barcelona where he told you how he made some sort of mistake at the concert that he knew he wouldn’t have made had you been there because, in his words, “you always have my back.”

The postcards were chaotic, and stream-of-consciousness, and oh so Jungkook that it made your heart both ache and swell every time you looked at them.

When the boys arrived back in Asia, you could tell immediately just from the postcards you received. Not just the images, either. The messages had an entirely different tone.

From Tokyo, it was a watercolor painting of one of the shrines and a simple message of how much he missed you.

From Osaka, it was a photo of the cherry blossom festival and the desire to make a point to visit to see the flowering trees the following year.

And from Fukuoka, it was from the art museum, and held a promise to take you there as soon as he could because they had works by Roy Lichtenstein and Mark Rothko he and Namjoon both thought you would love to see.

One postcard from Jungkook for every international city the mini-tour stopped in. They had one more concert in Seoul and then he would be home. Unfortunately, they landed early in the morning and then were swept away to rehearse, so you wouldn’t be able to see him until after the concert.

So you sat on your couch, curled up under a blanket, watching reactions to the band’s various music videos and fan compilations on YouTube. It had become one of your favorite pastimes in recent weeks. Currently, you were making your way through one channel’s reactions playlist. Three men sat at a table, two of whom were apparently hip-hop dancers, and they were reacting to “Daechwita.” Clearly they were into it--the two dancers kept making the guy in the middle pause the video so they could rewatch certain bits.

You and Kimchi both jumped at the knock at your door, the dog giving a warning bark, his ears trained towards the door. It was quiet, and then you heard the soft ‘fwip’ of something being slid under your door. Kimchi was up in a second to investigate, and you followed, giving the dog a sharp ‘leave it’ so he wouldn’t destroy whatever it was.

Curious, you bent down to pick it up. It was a piece of thick paper, no more than 16 centimeters in length. Immediately, your heart began to race. It was a postcard. From Seoul.

Kimchi must have sensed your feelings because he gave a confused bark, his attention turned back to the door. You flipped the postcard over. It was blank--no address, no stamp--except for one small line of neat Hangul. “I missed you.”

Without thinking, you opened the door. Kimchi was in the hall in a second, barking at a pair of black combat boots. The man attached to the boots attempted to shush the dog. You laugh as he tried to shoo Kimchi back into the house. His wide eyes met yours then, and he was laughing, too, a smile blazing like wildfire across his lips.

“Kimchi, in,” you commanded the dog sharply, and with one more bark, he retreated into your apartment. You motioned with your head for the man to enter as well. He did as he was told.

As soon as the door was shut, you pulled him to you. He smelled like Downy and vanilla, but also airplane and sweat and rain. His clothes were drenched--was it raining? You hadn’t noticed. His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you to him tightly. You had forgotten how much his hugs felt like home.

A few moments passed as you stood there in your entryway just holding each other. Your mind vacillating between getting lost in him and wandering. Why wasn’t he at the concert? It didn’t matter, because he was here. Did they get rained out? Who cares, he’s home. You felt his lips press against the side of your head.

You pulled back, your hands going to his cheeks, thumbs ghosting against his soft skin. “Jungkook,” you breathed. He smiled softly, his eyes giving away how happy he was to be there.

Silently, you stood there, hands on his face, his own on your waist, as you stared at him, trying to commit him to memory. His hair was longer, the ends turning under slightly as they dried from the rain. His face was a little flushed, though you weren’t sure whether it was from the chilly bite of the late October air or something else.

“Not that I’m not so incredibly glad you’re here,” you began, your eyes meeting his. “But why are you here?”

He laughed, letting go of your waist so he could loosen the laces of his boots. “Rained out. I guess they’ve been having problems with the retractable roof at the stadium.” He shrugged, kicking his boots off haphazardly. Kimchi barked at the noise, running to investigate the shoes. “They’re going to reschedule, I guess?”

You nodded. As soon as his shoes were off, Jungkook pulled you close again, one arm slung over your shoulders as he led you into the living room. You sat on the corner of the couch, and immediately he was leaning into you, nudging your arm up over his shoulders so that you were the one holding him. You could feel him sigh against you, his head falling and resting against yours.

“God, I missed this,” he admitted softly.

“I missed you.” He ducked his head, burying his face in your neck. You felt him smile against your skin, pressing a light kiss there.

With the excitement of him finally being home starting to wear off, you remembered the postcard still clutched in your hand. You made an excited noise and jumped to your feet, scurrying over to your desk. Jungkook protested the lack of contact with a whine, his arms trailing after you as you moved.

He watched you pick up one of the empty frames and slide the postcard into it. “Whatcha doing?”

“Saving it,” you said simply, holding it up to the wall with the others to see where it would look best.

“You framed them?”

“I like them. They’re sweet.”

He laughed, and you could hear him stand and move closer. His arms snaked around your waist, pulling you into his chest. He rested his chin on your shoulder, going silent as he inspected your handiwork. “You really liked them?”

You hummed, placing the newly framed postcard on your desk before reaching up to pat his cheek. “Of course I like them. I missed you guys.”

“Honestly, I don’t even remember sending some of them. We only spent like a day in Amsterdam and Barcelona. I had to grab some of them at the airport.” He squeezed you tighter. “Do you know how hard it is to find a postcard nowadays?”

You spun in his grasp so you were facing him, one hand on his cheek. “Thank you for making the effort.”

Jungkook smiled at you, gentle and sweet. “I will always make the effort for you.”

Read more of the series here

[obscurelysevere]

Haven’t done one of these in AGES

A Art: When was the last time you painted something? God, it’s been ages! But it’s something I would really like to get back to doing. Especially watercolors.

Adventure: When was the last time you really felt alive, and what were…. …you doing? I was most likely in North Carolina. That always speaks to me.

Allergies: What is one thing that you are allergic to? Peach skin.

Answers: What is one question you would like an answer to? Why am I going through all of this?

Age: What has been your favorite age so far? 12. And 21,

B What month is your birthday? October.

Have you ever played house inside a big box? Not a box, but a fort in my bunk bed.

Are you boisterous? Rarely.

Have you ever dated a bad boy? Hah. No.

Name one thing you like that is blue: The ocean.

C Cinnamon–yay or nay? Cinnamon rolls, fuck yes!

Chocolate: do you love it? I like it some times.

Name one favorite type of candy. Sour Patch Kids,

Children: Name one favorite thing to do with kids while babysitting. Reading to them.

Carefree: Are you carefree? Not at all. I am very careful.

D When was the last time you danced like no one was watching? When I lived alone in my apartment.

Do you daydream? That’s all that I do, it seems.

Dreams: What is one of your dreams? To get a service dog.

What is one thing you are currently dreading? Waiting to get my pup.

Name something delicious. Peaches.

E Would you ride an elephant if given the opportunity? Absolutely not. I do NOT support the practice. The elephants face so much abuse when the tourists aren’t around. It’s not right.

Do you live life on the edge? God, no. I wish that I did. I want to.

Name something you like to eat: Teppenyaki.

Do you believe in everlasting life? No.

Name something that comes easy to you. Empathy.

F Name a fragrance you like. Lavender.

Are you a free spirit? Yes.

Are you fickle? Rarely.

Are you hiding your feelings from someone? Not at all.

Name one flavor you like. Ginger.

G Are you gentle? I try to be.

Are you generous? Again, I try to be.

Name something green. Limes.

Name a famous giant. Hagrid.

Are you a girl? Yes.

H Are you generally a happy person? At this point, it’s kind of a 50/50 roll of the dice.

Do you honor the holiness of the day? I do not, but I should probably start.

Do you believe in Heaven? Not the biblical heaven. But I believe in something.

Name one thing you are hoping for. My service dog!

Name one thing you hate. Being a broke sponge.

I Imagination: Write the name of one of your imaginary friends from when you…were younger. I never had any imaginary friends.

Issues: Name one magazine you subscribe to, if there is any. I don’t subscribe to anything right now.

Internet: Name one website you visit often. YouTube.

Itinerary: List one place you would like to visit. South Africa.

Interest: Name one thing that interests you. Science.

J Are you joyful? Not so much,

When was the last time you were filled with joy? In my dream the other night, with my new baby.

Can you jump high? Not in the least.

Name one girl’s name that starts with a J that you like. Jessie. ;)

Name one boy’s name that starts with a J that you like. Hmm... Jaxx is a good one. Which is funny, because I used to really not like that name. I thought it sounded like an industrial floor cleaner.

K Have you ever been kissed? Not in a looooong time.

Have you ever feared that you would be killed? Yes.

Are you kind? I do my best to be.

Who is your kindred spirit? @anoddityofsorts​

Name one thing you liked as a kid. Barbies.

L Do you love someone? I love a lot of someones!

Do you live out loud? Some days I feel like I do better than others.

Do you read food labels? Sometimes, especially if I’m trying to figure out the carbs.

Name something local that you like. The nature.

List one thing you like to do at the lake. Swim! Or kayak.

M Do you like… monkeys They’re alright.

music I do!

musicals Rarely.

mansions Not a fan.

miracles Absolutely. Who doesn't?

N Do you want something…. new A new puppy, yes!

nice Well, yeah.

neat Generally.

never-before-seen Depends?

nature-inspired Absolutely & always!

O How old are you? 25. 

What is the last great opportunity you missed? I try not to miss great opportunities.

Name one thing you like that’s orange (besides oranges). Sunsets.

Are you open? I try to be. I have nothing to hide.

Name something odd. My best friend.

P Are you… patient Not at all.

perky Sometimes.

pale A little?

peaceful I wish.

passionate Very.

Q Do you own a… quilt Yes! It’s hanging on my wall behind my bed.

quail What? No!

queen-size bed Yes.

quill pen No.

book of questions Yes! It’s a five year journal that has a new question for every day.

R Do you like to… run Ew, no.

rave Definitely not.

riddle Uh, no.

rhyme Only when I’m writing a song.

rap No.

S Are you ever… shy Rarely.

sensitive Very.

secretive Not totally.

sure I’m very UNsure.

stable Right now I am.

T Are you… ticklish I don’t think so.

trouble I’m pretty well behaved.

tall Nope.

thankful Very.

tactful Sometimes.

U Have you ever… ridden a unicyle Nope.

used an umbrella Duh.

visited an uncle Yes?

been undecided Yes!

played a ukelele No but I want to get one, and I want to learn!

V Do you own a… violin No, but I kind of want to.

vehicle Not at this moment. But I’ll (hopefully) be getting one soon!

violet dress I just got rid of one!

vampire cape No.

veil for a wedding dress Definitely not.

W What is something you wish for? To not have to fight for everything anymore.

Wonder: When was the last time you opened your eyes in wonder? Hell if I know.

Name five words you like. Vivid. Lavender. Orchid. Peach. Paradise.

What is something you wonder? What my purpose is in this life.

Name someone who thinks you are worthless. I don’t know if anyone really does.

X Have you ever… played a xylophone When I was little.

had an x-ray More than most people.

enjoyed exercise If it’s yoga! Or going on walks with my family.

had excision surgery Out of all the surgeries that I have had, that has not been one of them.

been excluded My entire high school career.

Y Are you young? Not on the inside.

Are you youthful? In spirit.

Did you have a big yard growing up? Yes! It’s beautiful. I love it.

What did you do yesterday? I relaxed after breaking my back cleaning all week long.

Do you like yams? Not just straight up.

Z Zeal: What are you passionate about? Animals.

Zing: Do you like raspberry lemonade? I like just about raspberry anything.

What’s your favorite zoo animal? All of the big cats.

Do you own anything from Zales? Uh, no.

List a name that starts with a Z. Zayne.

[katrinawritesthings]

Jonghyun/Taemin; A Year of Sunsets (Part 2/5); PG

Two days into October, after Taemin has made both himself and Jonghyun pumpkin pies and had way too much fun setting up Halloween decorations for no one but himself, Jonghyun catches Taemin sitting on the shore of the lake, letting pebbly sand fall through his fingers as he waits for the sun to get low enough for some nicer colors.

1-2-3-4-5

As Taemin carries sunset number twenty-one back through the darkening trees to home, it really hits him how glad he is that he chose to go into acrylic painting instead of watercolor. Sure, watercolors are swirlier and funner, but they take long as fuck to dry. He can’t even imagine how much more tedious this would be if he had to deal with that nonsense. He’s still going to have to figure out an easier way to carry these canvasses back home, though, instead of just awkwardly holding them under his arm. Maybe he’ll look something up online so he can carry them on his back as well.

He’s so caught up in trying to figure out how to make these walks back easier on him that he’s halfway passed the warm orange glow shining through Jonghyun’s windows before he realizes that there’s a warm orange glow shining through Jonghyun’s windows. He stops, curious; looking up, he sees the smoke coming from his chimney and recognizes the smell. Oh. He's back already? It hasn’t even been three weeks. He stares at the windows, lost in thought. If Jonghyun is back already, that means he’ll have to get started on his banana nut muffins soon. He’d thought a lot about it over the past few days and he’d come to the pretty solid conclusion that Jonghyun is a muffin person, and also a banana nut person. Unless he’s allergic, which he should probably find out. Hmm.

Again, he gets so lost in thought that he doesn’t realize he’s just standing outside of Jonghyun’s house and staring into his kitchen window until Jonghyun walks by and notices him. This time is significantly more embarrassing than the first. He blushes as Jonghyun flashes him a smile though the window, but scoots forward when Jonghyun waves at him to come closer.

“Hey,” he says when Taemin gets close enough to lean up against the windowsill. “Back from painting?”

“Uh, yeah,” Taemin says. “I’ve been scoping out the lake, see?” He holds up his painting proudly so Jonghyun can see the contrast of the fiery orange sky over the shadowy aqua of the water. People are totally gonna want to buy this one for sure. “But, um--” He shakes his head quickly before he forgets what he was going to ask. “What about you? I thought you were going to be out there for a month or two.” That’s what he said, right? A month, maybe two? Seeing him back here so soon, Taemin is starting to doubt his own memory.

“Ahh, well, yeah,” Jonghyun says, He shrugs a little sheepishly and lifts his hand to run his fingers through his hair. It’s a gesture that makes Taemin realise that he’s shirtless, and kind of fucking ripped. That’s pretty cool, he guesses. He was planning on his only exercise being his daily walks to the sunset, but good for Jonghyun if he wants to be in like, super shape. “You know how it rained pretty hard a few days last week?” Jonghyun asks. “And then got really hot?”

“Yeah,” Taemin snorts, shaking his head. The rain he liked; he cozied up on the couch, painted it through his window, read some old comic books, watched some tacky judge shows, made some s’mores, listened to it patter against the ceiling, and loved his life. The heat he could have done without, though. It’s still kind of lingering around and he’s really glad that it’s getting closer to winter than summer. He’s not fond of being sticky and gross.

“Yeah, well, it got really humid out there,” Jonghyun goes on. “I hate when it’s humid. I think I’m gonna leave again when the summer storms are over and the winter ones haven’t started yet. When it’s cold and dry and not humid. October, maybe.”

“Mmm… spooky,” Taemin hums, grinning when Jonghyun grins at his comment. It’s pretty impressive, how Jonghyun knows the forest’s weather patterns so well. Taemin doesn’t even have the weather of his old home memorized, and he lived there for over ten years. Jonghyun’s knowledge of his home makes him remember something important: that he doesn’t really know jack shit about this place. “Hey,” he says, “I meant to ask you something else too.” He puts his hand on Jonghyun’s windowsill, ready to ask. Then he frowns because he forgot. “Uh, fuck.” It was actually two things, he thinks, looking down. One thing about the lake, maybe, and something else about…? Guh.

“Do you wanna come in for dinner?” Jonghyun asks. He jerks his thumb over his shoulder into the house. “I just threw some dinosaur nuggets into the oven a few minutes ago.”

“Fancy,” Taemin says. He glances through the trees at his house for a moment; if he’s being honest, he doesn’t really feel like making his own food tonight. He was gonna do the same as Jonghyun, except with regular shaped chicken nuggets instead. He thinks Jonghyun’s version sounds much nicer. And he feels like he can deal with a little socializing right now. He nods when Jonghyun points him towards the front door, hiking his sunset more under his arm and heading over there. When Jonghyun lets him in, he just smiles with another nod, kind of spacing out while he tries to remember what it was that he wanted to ask about the lake. It’s not until he’s setting his bag and painting gently against the kitchen counter next to the door that he remembers; the painting itself reminds him.

“Oh,” he says, looking up slowly. Jonghyun is over by his couch, wiggling rather ungracefully into a purple sweater. Taemin waits until his head pops out from the collar, mussed and curious, and then points at his artwork. “Those rocks, in the lake,” he says, waiting for Jonghyun to come squint at the rocks in his painting. “Is there any way to like… get on top of them?” He nods when Jonghyun moves to pick the canvas up, giving him permission. “I want to do a sunset from the center of the lake.” He tried looking for little stepping stones, fallen logs, anything that would make a good path, but he couldn’t see anything from his vantage point on the shore.

“Hmm,” Jonghyun hums, lifting his canvas up onto his counter and leaning it against his coffee maker. “Yes, but… there won’t be for a while, not after the rain we just had.” He shrugs sympathetically as Taemin pouts. Frick. He must have just missed it. “Usually, in the summer,” Jonghyun says, “the lake is low enough that you can make your way into the middle on some other boulders. It’s not that deep here on the south side.” He points a little path from the shore Taemin painted to the rocks in the center. Taemin hums again, not pleased but at least satisfied with Jonghyun’s answer. He’ll go out there next year or something. As for now, he frowns at Jonghyun, noticing a roughness in his voice that wasn’t there last time now that he’s spent a few minutes talking to him.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asks. “You’re not sick, are you?” Taemin doesn’t want to catch whatever Jonghyun has, if he has anything. He doesn’t want to get sick in his very first month.

“Hmm? No, no,” Jonghyun says. He rubs a hand over his throat self-consciously. “Being out there just messes with my voice sometimes,” he shrugs. Taemin nods, understanding. It’s just a little hoarse from lack of use. Taemin wishes that happened to him; all that he gets when he doesn’t speak for a while is a bunch of flustered stuttering. He’d gladly trade a rough voice for that.

A sudden, short beeping startles him from his thoughts: a timer sitting on the other end of the counter. Jonghyun grabs it quickly, and then puts it down just as quickly after he looks at it.

“Ten minutes left,” he says. He wiggles his eyebrows promisingly. “Oh--right.” He leaves Taemin’s side to walk around the counter and into the actual kitchen. On the far wall, across from the sink, he pulls a potato out of a low cabinet. “Baked potato, also,” he says, holding it up. “You don’t mind if I microwave it, right?” he asks. Taemin snorts.

“Not at all,” he says. He doesn’t think he’s had an actual oven-baked potato in years, not when the microwave is so much faster. Jonghyun gives him a thumbs up and turns to wash the potato, then sets it all up in the microwave next to another that he must have already prepared for himself before Taemin walked by.

“Take a seat,” he says, pointing aimlessly at the rest of the room, which has two distinct places to sit. Taemin looks from the cushy couch in front of the tv in the living area to his right, where he would sit in his own house, and then to the quaint little dining table on the left wall passed the kitchen. That’s probably where Jonghyun meant.

He shuffles over there a little awkwardly, not used to being new in someone’s house. The soft shag carpet under his feet turns into scratched tile. The dark wood of the kitchen chairs match the table also for a warm aesthetic. A small scented candle (“Desert Sand,” Taemin reads blandly) sits in the middle of the table on a cute little coaster. Jonghyun’s house is nice. Inviting. Taemin finds himself smiling as he traces lines in the surface of the table with his finger. The fact that Jonghyun is just letting him be silent and think is also nice. Looking up at the ding of the microwave, Taemin finds Jonghyun reaching in with bare hands to get their baked potatoes out. He snorts as Jonghyun hisses softly and practically drops them onto their plates. Smooth. He thinks, as Jonghyun brings both plates over to the table and sets them down carefully, that he almost remembers what the second thing was that he wanted to ask him.

“Starch,” Jonghyun mumbles as he stabs their potatoes open and flaps steam away from his face. He slides back to the counter, where he picks up a cutting board that Taemin must have completely zoned out on, and brings it to their plates. “Veggies,” he says, tipping a few carrot and celery sticks onto each of their plates, and “fruit,” as he adds half of a sliced peach next to that. Taemin raises his eyebrows, amused. This is certainly a meal that he’s putting together here. Still, it’s more thought than Taemin puts into his own diet. He doesn’t think he’s actually set out to eat vegetables in years. Living on his own and making his own dietary decisions wasn’t really one of his strong points. He doesn’t even think he remembers what carrots taste like. He hopes he likes them.

“Dairy,” Jonghyun mumbles next, taking the cutting board away and returning after a minute with two glasses of milk. “And meat,” he says finally, as his oven timer goes off behind him. He slides away to get the chicken out of the oven, looking immensely proud of how he managed to time everything so perfectly as he tips three stegosaurus-shaped nuggets and three t-rex-shaped nuggets onto each of their plates. “Perfect,” He smiles at Taemin, pushing his plate across the table helpfully. Taemin smiles, grabbing the salt from next to the napkins and adding a little bit to everything.

“Aren’t we supposed to have grains, also?” he asks teasingly. He’s sure he remembers bread being on the food pyramid somewhere. He thinks Jonghyun also skipped a food group completely, though he can’t remember which one it is. Jonghyun laughs and takes the salt when he’s done with it.

“I think they moved bread into the potato category, actually,” he says. “Or, potatoes into the bread category. Something weird. Also, I forgot to buy bread when I got back this afternoon.” He shrugs, biting the head off of one of his dinosaurs. “It’s nutritious enough for me.” He winks; Taemin breathes out a soft laugh and shrugs. Same. And Jonghyun was out in the forest for two weeks. This has to be more balanced than anything he got out there. He eats a peach slice off of his plate first, always a sucker for fruit. Picking up one of his dinosaur nuggets after, though, finally makes him remember his second question.

“Meat,” he says to himself, and then, looking up at Jonghyun, “Wolves.”

Jonghyun looks at him blankly for a moment, carrot stick between his fingers. Taemin curses internally. That was just… not good. Not the right way to say that.

“Uh, wolves?” Jonghyun asks, and Taemin shakes his head quickly, stammering to clarify.

“I-I mean, shapeshifter wolves,” he says. “Like--” He pauses and takes a deep breath before he can blunder through before he has his thoughts together and embarrass himself further. Jonghyun lets him without pressing him for an explanation, which he appreciates. After a moment (and another peach slice), he takes another breath to speak. “Before I bought the house,” he says, waving a hand behind him at his place, “I looked up this forest, and how it’s legal shapeshifter land?”

“Shapeshifter property, yeah,” Jonghyun agrees, nodding. Taemin mirrors him and stabs at his baked potato with his fork.

“I was wondering, if you’ve ever seen any of them?” he asks. “Or if you know where they are?” Now that he’s remembered his question, he can’t believe that he forgot something so fascinating. He heard them howling a few nights ago and stayed up late just to listen to them sing. He figures Jonghyun, a person who has probably lived here for a good chunk of his life, has to have seen one or two around, even if they do like to keep to themselves.

“Mmm,” Jonghyun hums. “They are out there, but... they’re good at staying... hidden. From most humans.” He speaks slowly, like he’s choosing the right words. “I’ve seen them further out every now and again, but the wolves almost never show up around here.” He takes a sip of his milk and swallows a peach slice. “I think they usually stick to the northwest of the lake, kind of passed where the river curves. That’s where I usually see them.”

“Hmm,” Taemin replies thoughtfully. That’s interesting. He thinks it would be cool to see one. It’s bound to happen at least once at some point during the rest of his life. “I’ve just, never actually seen a wolf before,” he tells Jonghyun. “My neighborhood was mostly just… humans, kitties, and bunnies.” None of those are exactly rare anywhere. “I kind of just want to see a real life wolf, period,” he mumbles. Wolves are cool. He’ll be satisfied with a regular wolf if he ever sees one of those. “I just feel like a shapeshifter is less likely to, you know, eat me.” He shrugs; Jonghyun muffles a laugh into his hand for a quick moment.

“I mean, true,” he agrees. “There aren’t any wolf wolves around here, though, so don’t worry about it. Territory shit, you know. If you ever do see a wolf, it’ll definitely be a shapeshifter.” At his reassurances, Taemin nods silently. That’s comforting. And kind of impressive. He wonders if the shapeshifters often have territorial disputes the further they go into the forest, or if the whole area is just… theirs. It’s a big place; he wonders how big the pack actually is. He doesn’t exactly know much about wolves and how much they can handle, and he’s sure that shapeshifter wolves would be different from anything he could learn online anyway. Ahh, well. If it’s really bugging him later, he’ll just ask Jonghyun to see if he knows any details. For now, he pokes absentmindedly at his last peach slice with a carrot stick, trying to remember if it was carrots or celery that he always hated when he was younger.

“You lived in the city before, right? How did you paint your sunsets then?”

“Hmm?” Taemin looks up, a little dazed from getting lost in his thoughts. Jonghyun looks at him expectantly over his plate. Shit. Sunsets… in the city? Where Taemin lived. Yeah, that’s where he lived, in the city, and he painted sunsets there. Jonghyun was right. That statement was true.

“Um,” he says. “It was a lot of skyscraper silhouettes. And telephone poles. Kites, sometimes--at the park where I would go, once a month there were kite flying events.” He smiles at the memory of all of the different colors soaring around the sky. Life in the city wasn’t all bad, he supposes. Still, it was no waking up to the smell of oak and the sound of leaves rustling overhead, and Taemin is in no hurry to drive hours back just to see some kites.

Before he can get too lost in his thoughts again, Jonghyun presses him curiously, but gently, for more information, and so Taemin tells him. About the city, his schools, how dancing used to be tied with painting in his interests until he realized that dancing as a job would be much too social for him, just stuff about his life. Jonghyun talks about himself as well; how this has been his family’s house for generations but he’s the only one living in it right now, how he likes to do a little singing and songwriting in his spare time in the woods, how he goes out fishing in the lake in the summer. It’s a nice time between the two of them. Taemin finds himself relaxed and comfortable as he finishes up his dinner, grateful for Jonghyun’s easy hospitality. He stutters and flubs quite a few of his words, but Jonghyun doesn’t even seem to notice. He’s nothing but kind smiles and genuine interest.

Soon, like usual when he talks to people, Taemin starts feeling worn out and tired. Luckily for him, it only just starts happening as he’s washing his own dishes in Jonghyun’s sink. He made it through a nice dinner without his mood dragging him down. Now, as Jonghyun offers to walk him home through the woods in the dark, he’ll be able to hide his fatigue behind the guise of it being a long day. By the time they reach his place, it won’t even matter that Taemin feels his energy draining out of him by the second.

Jonghyun’s expert shortcut through the woods is just a little bit to the left of what Taemin had been using himself. They’re silent as they walk, but it’s a comfortable silence, one where Jonghyun lifts his flashlight from the ground and shines it instead on the painting that he offered to carry. Maybe he wants to buy it or something. Taemin could give him a discount for being such a nice neighbor. After looking it over curiously for a minute, though, Jonghyun fits it back under his arm with a satisfied looking smile. Taemin can’t even find it in himself to be disappointed. That expression is too impressed to get annoyed at. A few minutes after, Taemin shines his own flashlight--the one Jonghyun gave him just two weeks ago--on the back door of his house.

“Welcome home,” Jonghyun smiles, wiggling his own light over the wood of Taemin’s back wall. Taemin smiles thankfully at him, taking his painting back under his own arm and digging in his bag for his key.

“Thanks for dinner,” he remembers to say over his shoulder as he jams it into the lock. Jonghyun waves a dismissive hand.

“Don’t mention it,” he says. “Also, hey, about the wolves….” He trails off as Taemin pushes his door open with his shoulder. Dropping his stuff just inside the entrance, Taemin turns back to him with a quiet, curious hum. What about the wolves? Jonghyun looks at him closely for a moment, thumbing the switch of his flashlight on and off. “There is one,” he says, “that comes around here sometimes. Dark brownish grey, with white fluffs on his tail and ears.” He pauses there, raising his eyebrows at Taemin in a look that means he’s trusting Taemin with this information. Taemin supposes he lied about not seeing any in this part of the woods before because he felt some kind of responsibility, as probably the only one to know about the wolf. He rubs his eye tiredly, really wishing that he were more alert to really pay attention to Jonghyun’s words.

“Is it--he,” Taemin corrects himself, remembering the pronoun Jonghyun used, remembering that these wolves are also people, “friendly?” His voice rises at the end, uncertain. He doesn’t know if Jonghyun is telling this because the wolf is nice or because he wants to warn Taemin. At his question, some of the hesitation in Jonghyun’s posture deflates into a laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” he says. “A big softie. If you see him around, just be chill, you know? Don’t make a fuss.”

“Got it,” Taemin agrees, breathing out a soft laugh. Like he even needs to be told that. He is the least fussy person that he knows. “If I ever do see him, I’ll probably just try to get him in a painting, to be honest,” he shrugs. Jonghyun smiles at his simple acceptance, looking relieved.

“Okay,” he says. “Well--goodnight.” He nods his head and gives Taemin a wave; Taemin copies him as he slips inside of his house and closes the door.

~

Summer shifts into Fall slowly but surely. Taemin doesn’t notice at first, but soon, it’s obvious in the chill in the air and the colorful leaves that he shuffles through every night in his journeys through the forest. It makes him smile, makes him flap around in overlarge sweaters and turns his sunsets into splashes of gold and red. They’re selling well; even better than they did when he was in the city. He hasn’t visited back yet, but Kibum emails and texts him all of the time and Taemin mailed him a nice birthday present, so he guesses that that’s close enough. He’s not ready to visit yet. He’s still enjoying his life alone.

Or, almost alone. He and Jonghyun see each other often enough, exchange friendly waves and little smiles. Occasionally Taemin stops by his house for a few minutes to show him his sunsets, and on one of his more social days in September he brought Jonghyun over a cinnamon apple pie, something that he was very proud of and Jonghyun was very impressed by. Jonghyun lets him be on his own for the most part though, which Taemin greatly appreciates. He loves not feeling any pressure to be a talkative neighbor. He loves being able to spend his time alone, dancing in his living room, making big breakfasts whenever he wants, listening to the wolves singing at night, sitting in the dirt out back and planning out where his garden is going to go in the spring.

Two days into October, after Taemin has made both himself and Jonghyun pumpkin pies and had way too much fun setting up Halloween decorations for no one but himself, Jonghyun catches Taemin sitting on the shore of the lake, letting pebbly sand fall through his fingers as he waits for the sun to get low enough for some nicer colors.

“I knew I’d find you out here,” he grins as he lowers himself down next to Taemin and gets comfy in the sand. Taemin smiles lazily back, scooting a little bit over so they’re not so close.

“How could you have guessed?” he asks. Jonghyun shrugs and reaches over to play with Taemin’s little bottles of paint and things in his box. With a quick glance at the sky, Taemin joins Jonghyun in rummaging around the box for his little pallet tray to start getting ready.

“Just a feeling I had,” Jonghyun says. Taemin hums in reply. He can feel that. He wonders why Jonghyun was out looking for him, but he assumes that Jonghyun is going to tell him, so he doesn’t ask. Instead, he works on popping open his paints and squidging colors into their usual spaces, and also on not giggling at the word “squidging” like he usually does when Jonghyun isn’t around. When he reaches for the light blue, Jonghyun squeezes out a little blob for him instead, looking all proud of himself for helping. Taemin laughs softly and gets up onto his knees on his pillow so he won’t be sitting at such an awkward angle when he starts to paint. Next to him, Jonghyun leans back and crosses his legs.

“Anyway,” Jonghyun says. “I figured I should tell you that I’m leaving for vacation tomorrow morning. Like, for real this time,” he adds when Taemin raises playful eyebrows at him over his shoulder. Jonghyun cocks one in response. “So if you wanted to declare your undying love for me, you’d better do it now,” he says. Taemin laughs, shaking his head fondly as he turns back to his canvas. He reaches absentmindedly to his side to tug his paints and supplies to a better position.

“I think I’ll hold onto my feelings for a little bit longer,” he says. Looking up at the horizon, he frowns when he notices a stray tree branch is kind of messing up his balance. He scoots everything a few inches to the right, squints at the tree again, and shrugs. That’s a good enough angle.

“Well, If you wanna let me know, I’m all ears,” Jonghyun tells him. Taemin chuckles again as he dabs some orange on his brush to start. Jonghyun lets him paint in silence, only leaning forward once while Taemin is rinsing off one of his brushes to gently poke a tiny speck of blue onto his finger. Taemin watches him with amusement for a moment as he smears it between his pointer finger and thumb with interest. He finishes just as the sun is almost all the way gone, the sky already turning a deep blue in contrast to the fiery orange of his painting. He blends some of the lower bushes slowly, puffing his lips up as he looks at the whole thing.

“Mmm,” he hums. “What do you think?” He turns to Jonghyun, who hums in thought as well, glancing quickly between his painting and the horizon.

“I think…,” he says slowly, moving to his hands and knees to squint at it better. “Maybe a little less lake and a little more bush, here,” he says. He almost pokes the green with his blue finger before he hisses and closes his hand, tapping the spot gently with his knuckle instead. Taemin snorts at his sheepish smile, but follows his advice and adds more bush there. When he pulls his brush back again, both of them stare at it for a moment before Jonghyun claps, gentle little applause for Taemin’s skill. “Perfect,” he smiles. Taemin smiles back, flattered.

“Thanks,” he says as he picks up his smallest brush and signs his name at the bottom of the piece. It should be dry in no time. He’ll varnish it in the morning, but for now, he pulls out a container of clean water and some paper towels to wipe his pallet with so it’s less of a mess to deal with later. Jonghyun comes up to grab a paper towel as well to help him and he smiles thankfully. “How long are you gonna be gone?” he asks. He can’t imagine that Jonghyun would want to stay out there for very long when it’ll probably start snowing soon.

“Uh, a month, maybe a month and a half,” Jonghyun shrugs. “It starts really snowing around November.” He makes a face and Taemin smiles to himself. He likes how he was able to predict that, how he knows Jonghyun well enough despite not spending a whole lot of time with him. He nods in understanding as he rubs at a little dried speck of purple.

“November is like, prime comfort food season,” he says. October is for sweets and December is for fancy shit, but November is all biscuits and soups and things that warm the soul. “Tell me when you get back and I’ll make you something nice?” he offers. He’ll probably be feeling social at some point in November. Jonghyun gasps softly, lips lifting up into an excited little smile.

“I’d like that,” he says earnestly. “Like a crumb cake or something. I always use the box mix, but….” He looks up at Taemin with a hopeful little smile. Taemin laughs. He can make a crumb cake, yeah.

“Can do,” he says. He holds out his hand for Jonghyun’s dirty paper towel and stuffs it into a little plastic baggie, then stuffs that in his pocket and everything else back into the box. When he reaches out to gently tap at his canvas, he finds that it’s still kind of wet, but not too much that he can’t carry it back right now. He stands up straight and offers Jonghyun his hand to help him up as well. Jonghyun picks up his box of paint supplies with an easy wave of his hand when Taemin moves to take it from him.

“I got it,” he says simply. Taemin smiles at him in gratitude. Pulling his bag over his shoulder and picking his canvas up carefully, he leans it against Jonghyun’s leg, wrestles with his easel for a moment to get it to collapse, and then grabs each in both hands. Then he looks up to lock eyes with Jonghyun. He suddenly realizes that he doesn’t really have anything to say. “Let’s go, then,” seems too weird and cliché. Jonghyun smirks after a moment, probably because he’s realized that Taemin doesn’t know what to say either.

“Let’s go, then,” he says, gesturing down the path with the box. Taemin breathes out a soft laugh and turns to follow him through the trees. Well, all right then.

Jonghyun stays for a glass of water and a cookie when they reach Taemin’s house, just a few minutes that Taemin is happy to allow him. Then he’s gone, waving a cheery goodbye as he wanders through the darkness to his own house. Taemin gets himself all snuggly in bed with his laptop just a few minutes later. He thinks that maybe he could wake up early enough to make Jonghyun a few muffins or something to take with him, but by the time he falls asleep, it’s well passed three in the morning. By the time he wakes up, the sun is high in the sky and Jonghyun is already gone.

[wallpaperpainter]

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In one of the aboriginal capacity of Dusk Oasis, adept Egyptian biographer Bahaa Taher uses the articulation of Mahmoud, the book’s protagonist, to acquaint Siwa, an haven amid over 500km south-west from Cairo, abutting to the bound with Libya. The book, which won the Arabic Booker award-winning in 2008, became an afflatus for a ball performance, The Added of the Desert, staged by the Egyptian Avant-garde Ball Theatre Aggregation on two after evenings, 1 and 2 October at the Gomhoreya Theatre.

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During this aeon the woman that was believed to be inhabited by the angel of afterlife “was not accustomed to change her aching dress no amount how bedraggled it got. She could not bath and she could not put on make-up.” Youthful Maleeka could not acquire her afterlife and as was subjected to the abuse that avalanche on the ghoul-woman who rebels adjoin this convenance as she did.

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[go-begay]

January- space painting on Yupo paper (no february) March- Charcoal and Graphite drawing of Lottie Tomlinson April - pen drawing of Wolverine May - pens and inking markers, Cher June- an acrylic painting of dusk on the ocean July - drawing of Post Malone (i made a video) and a collage background August - self portrait sketch September - Louis and Bebe in markers and pens October - self portrait sketch with some surrealism November - watercolor painting of a girl December - an acrylic painting WIP. based on a scene in the new star wars (binary sunset) and painting technique inspired by van gogh. used a modeling paste medium Personally i don't see progression this year, but i do see versatility. you also kind of get to see how much my work space has been moved around Here's to another year of good art!!! 🥂

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[mamakoda-blog]

Art and National Parks

What National Parks Does Every Artist Need to Visit?

    The spirit of an artist is always searching for new homes for their creativity to blossom, National Parks are a perfect place to ease their restless talent with the use of the natural landscape. With over 388 National Parks around the country, varying from vase deserts to towering mountain landscapes. In the fall, Zion’s National Park begins to fill with artist ranging from photography to painters. Using the landscape, landmarks and wildlife to express and capture their passion and inspiration. With so many varieties of territory to choose from it can be difficult to decide where to “set up shop” for your creative imagination, here are 8 National Parks every artist should visit:

1. Acadia National Park-

One of the first National Parks, and one of few on the East Coast, this Maine park is home to beautiful miles of scenic coastline and ridged cliffs on the shore. This park protects some of the few mountain ranges along the east coast, who wouldn’t enjoy high mountain tops, with endless ocean and crashing coastline. Get a different perspective with something almost no park can offer, a beautiful boat ride in the salty sea along rocky coast-line. Sea Sick? Stick to the beaches and enjoy tide pooling, see the sea with new eyes. Not a fan of the ocean all together? Then enjoy the amazing mountain scenery, with the multiple outdoor activities, such as canoeing, mountain biking or even horseback riding. This park as a little of everything, with such a diverse outdoor experience the possibilities for new and exciting works of art.

With the deep blues of the sea, the bright blues of the sky, the water crashing along the cliff side with different shades of white, the varying colors of this unique park. This incredible park is perfect to intertwin love for the sea and mountain range. Paint incredible sunsets by the sea or capture lighthouses by photograph. Sailboats would also a perfect addition to any artist sketchbook. This park is, dare I say, the only one of its kind. With this park, the possibilities of new, unique artwork are endless.

2. Arches National Park-

From the Pacific to the steady red arches that dwell in one of the many parks in Utah, the park will leave any artist speechless. The many sandstone arches are stunning, almost breathtaking works of art in itself. And with a strong culture of Native American history, the lands not only beautiful but shows a story through the artwork left here. This park has skies bigger and bluer than the great blue herself, and with warm red such as the rock of Moab what artist wouldn’t want to paint such diverse colors within a landscape?

Within the nearing city of Moab, there is museum’s and shop’s of all the artwork from the sandstone within this historical park. The works of art ranging from all ages, showing the endless possibilities that is great park has to offer any artist of any age. The different ranges of color and scenery makes every work of art interesting and captivating. No matter what time of year your traveling, this is a gorgeous treasure for any artist.

3. Grand Canyon National Park-

This National park takes a special eye to appreciate this soaring sky and rooted cavern of desert cut by water, but works of art created in this park leave the viewer amazed. With 227 miles of water making incisions leaving a mile deep mark within the earth's skin. Secrets lay around every corner in this canyon, of waterfalls such as Havasu, Native American tribes and stunning formations.

The shades of the layering rock make for a perfect sanctuary for photography and combined with the bursting sky makes for ideal watercolor. Capture an “action” picture through photography as you raft through the canyon. Or perhaps find a warm corner of the canyon and paint as you soak in the sun.

4. Glacier National Park-

Montana, known for their towering mountain ranges and in the heart lies, Glacier National Park. With over 130 lakes surrounded with stunning mountain ranges and forestry. With historical backgrounds of Native American culture, this lands gives the perfect landscape to find a peace while connecting to your creative side. Any season you can find and create beautiful works of art in this incredible National Park. Visit Lake McDonald, rocks brushed with the cold, glacier water creates bright, vibrant colors such as red, turquoise and purple.

How could you not feel alive, peaceful and utter joy painting at the edge of a lake with towering glaciers and mountains? Create a conversation piece for your home, draw wildflowers, steady pines or whatever forestry you like.

    5. Tetons National Park-

    This celestial National Park, is full of wildlife and perfect sites to set up your esaul. One of the countries most famous mountain scape is rooted here, this breathtaking landscape will make any artist feel at home. Just a few miles away the beginning of another stunning National Park, Yellowstone. In the other direction begins the town of Jackson Hole, where many art galleries live showcasing a variety of artwork. Not only does the park have scene but wildlife that bring life into your work.

    The prairies of sagebrush, intertwined with magnificent herds of elk and the famous mountain range in the distance is famous for photographers. Many of the galleries stationed in Jackson Hole are dedicated to photographers and their works of art. My personal favorite is early morning sketching, rising with many of the animals and before the tour buses show up, is highly recommend.

    6. Yellowstone National Park-

    The National Park a few door down from Tetons National Park, lays one of the most well known and famous National Parks, Yellowstone. With abundant hot pots bursting with color, and erupting geysers from the large underground volcano. Herds of animals differing of species such as the sturdy Bison and majestic Elk. With stunning landscapes, including waterfalls and great plans with strong pines. This National Park is a haven for any artist.

    Seasons may make it more or less crowd inviting, but there is no season where the artist is uninvited. Winter is incredibly beautiful, thanks to the steam of the hot pots and bison caked in snow, in the rut, or even peacefully grazing this is the place to be.

    7. Yosemite National Park-

    Is well-known for the incredible landmark of towering rock and vibrant color of greenery decorating the surroundings. This amazing park is stunning and will make a perfect addition to any artwork. But be sure to make reservations because the park is so beloved campgrounds need to be made two year in advance.

    Although you may have to wait two years to get your little slice of heaven within the park, it is completely worth it! You will be enchanted with these skyscrapers of cliffs and mountain ranges. Can you imagine getting to paint the famous grant rock formations? With beautiful tall tree that don’t even get close to the height of these towers. You can really explore different ideas and art ideas with this unique park.

    8. Zion’s National Park-

    The most well known and loved by artist is Zion’s, with festivals and galleries for the beloved artist, this park is artist sanctuary for creative minds. With hikes varying in all levels of difficulties, you can find any hike that suits what you are looking for. Angels landing has drawn people in from all different corners of the world is witness this heaven. Not to mention the beautiful, hidden slots canyons that leave anyone speechless.

October the trees at the bottom of this canyon begins to turn and blossom with color, and the artist begin rolling in. With the already exciting warm shades of orange and yellow, in the fall,  the colors are only enriched with the fading trees. Bake in the sun along the riverside, as you paint the gorgeous cliffs of Zions. And if you’re lucky you’ll see some very unique wildlife, such as the terrifyingly stunning tarantulas. Go see what you can find.

    If you look back at this list you’re going to wonder if this list is from best to worst? Or greatest to least? I just put these parks is Alphabetical Order, because there is no better or worst, everyone has their own personal connection to different National Parks, leaving a different, lasting impression on each of us. Your challenge is to discover those connections to each of these parks for yourself.  Now your role, as an artist, to go enjoy and create masterpieces a little closer to nature within these beloved National Treasures. Whatever style of art you are interested in, or however “good” of an artist you are or “think” you are, you won’t regret taking your art with you to these amazing destinations. Now go see what you can create.

[wbfinearts]

2017 LANDSCAPE EXHIBITION

William Baczek Fine Arts, in Northampton, Massachusetts, is pleased to announce the opening of the 2017 Annual Landscape Exhibition.  The show will be on display from Wednesday, September 6 until Saturday, October 7, 2017. The public is invited to an opening reception with the artists on Saturday, September 9 from five to seven p.m.

This year, nine artists from across the U.S. and Canada who work in a variety of media, have been invited to participate in the exhibition.  The annual Landscape Exhibition at William Baczek Fine Arts gathers artists who push the boundaries of what can be described as a landscape.  Working in various materials, these artists have been selected to help redefine what the typical notion of a landscape can or should be. Does a landscape need a horizon line? Can a city be a landscape? Can a book be a landscape? A ceramic vessel?

Guy Laramée from Canada sculpts landscapes from old, discarded books, dictionaries and encyclopedia sets. Laramée carves away parts of the actual books and creates incredibly intricate and detailed landscapes. He leaves most of the book intact, but incorporates the landscape into the object so that both the book and landscape maintain their integrity. Part mysticism, part Eastern philosophy and part relic, Laramées’ sculptures invite close scrutiny and reflection.

Marc Civitarese says about his recent landscape paintings: “My paintings, though based in the landscape tradition, are cerebral and visceral explorations of the relationship of ‘man’ and ‘nature’, and thus depart from a pure realist depiction of the world and move towards a more expressive sensibility.  By abstracting what I consider to be the elements of realism: shape, form, and light, my work thus becomes and introspective exploration of my feelings and thoughts of man, nature, and spirituality.” Civitarese paints in oil on deeply textured canvas or linen then coats the finished painting in beeswax. In addition, he pours a thick layer of high gloss resin, which when combined with the beeswax surface, enhances the glowing light that the artist desires to achieve.  

Jeff Gola from New Jersey paints in egg tempera. Typically, a slow, involved process, egg tempera paintings can look labored and fussy. But Gola’s landscapes, which at first look traditional, have a very modern sensibility. Avoiding the clichés of traditional landscape paintings, he captures a beautiful glow in the late day or evening light. Jeff Gola’s artist statement includes the following insight: “From my earliest memories, I have always been drawn to the rural landscape. Having grown up on a farm, I have always had a strong interest in observing the elements that influence that environment; the cycle of the seasons, the changing skies and the weather it portends, the constant presence of the natural processes of life, decay and rebirth, and the fading remnants of distant history and past lives. Egg tempera painting has a long tradition and its special qualities are uniquely suited to capturing the properties of light and exploring its interplay on texture. I have found that the slow and careful process that tempera requires to achieve its depth and luminosity suits my temperament and vision. The gradual building of form and the patient exploration of every surface nuance that is involved in tempera painting require a meditative and reflective approach, one that I feel enables me to examine personal memories and feelings that these subjects evoke in me.”

Andrew Haines is a Massachusetts painter who focusses on urban landscapes. About his paintings the artist says: “When driving, I have often wondered what it would be like to live with a giant billboard over my house?  Or to grow up with one so close by, from a car they often look small?   In more general terms the difference between passing through a place and actually living in that place.  My own neighborhood does not look so great from the window of a car but I have a deeper understanding of the it from living there so long. The neighborhood was built as one thing then continues to evolve with time going in and out of fashion every 30 years or so.” Haines’ paintings appear like literal depictions of specific locations but they are actually hybrids, part realistic part interpreted. They convey both literal motion and the motion of time and its effects on the streets, buildings and neighborhoods of the city.

Mallory Lake’s pastels of Italy, France, New York City, and more recently, her examination of steam train imagery, are consistently devoted to exploiting the rich chromatic capabilities of her hand-made pastels in order to depict locations that lend themselves to her unique interpretation. About her pastels, Mallory Lake writes: “I seek to evoke a response by my arrangement of light and dark in settings where recognizable objects merge into half-realized forms. To achieve this effect, I employ tonality—value relationships in a scale from light to dark—reserving the use of the lightest and darkest values for accents placed in contrast to the dominant tones. I use softened and variable focus, suppression of details, and a limited palette to enhance tonal unity. Photographer Edward Steichen, a master of tonality, said, ‘The real magician was light itself... with its accompanying shadows rich and full of mystery.’”

Rick Pas from Michigan uses an almost folk-art level of obsessive detail in his nature scenes. Regarding his acrylic on panel paintings, the artist observes: “Creating is an addiction. With all the highs and lows, you would expect. I am interested in the surface textures and creating paintings that portray them in realistic detail. Hopefully, a viewer will feel they can run a hand over the feathers and moss, or grasp an object in the painting. This detail is usually composed in an abstract design. The design can occur naturally or be arranged by me. The subjects of my paintings are usually based on the patterns and textures of nature and human interaction with nature. I have found subjects to paint in remote wilderness areas of the world, local parking lots, and my own backyard.”

Scott Prior will be showing new landscape oil paintings that continue his interest in the subject of light. Whether showing us a snowy, cold winter’s evening at sunset or a group of three cows languishing in a hot, golden summer’s light, what is unchanging in Prior’s work is his uncanny ability to fill the scene with light and air. Painting something as intangible as light and air might seem impossible, but Prior accomplishes just that.

Robert Sweeney, who has been the Chair of the Art Department at Amherst College for over thirty years, makes oil paintings that seem to be as much about the act of painting as the subjects themselves. Whether painting still lifes, figures, or the new landscapes which will be included in this show, Sweeney loads his stiff bristle-brushes and carves out his scenes, giving us, the viewer, the ability to witness the act of seeing and how to convey that in paint.

Jamie Young will be exhibiting both recent oil paintings and watercolors. Her abstracted paintings expand the notion of what a landscape should depict. Her organic forms and natural colors certainly show their origins in landscape, but without using recognizable intimations such as horizon lines. 

These nine artists have all used the landscape in very different ways; the intent of the exhibition is not to redefine what a landscape can be, but instead, to try to expand upon that notion in unexpected ways.

Selections from this exhibition and other works by gallery artists can be seen on the gallery’s web site at www.wbfinearts.com.  For more information about this or upcoming exhibits please call the gallery at 413-587-9880 or email at info@wbfinearts.com.  The gallery is located at 36 Main St. in downtown Northampton, Massachusetts and is open Tuesday and Wednesday from 10 – 5, Thursday, Friday and Saturday from 10 – 7 and Sunday from 12 – 5.

[nofomoartworld]

Hyperallergic: Remembering My Friend Andrew Wyeth on His 100th Birthday

Andrew Wyeth, left, with the author, Bo Bartlett (all images courtesy the author)

Today, Andrew Wyeth would’ve celebrated his 100th birthday.

In 1991, I was 35 years old and coming off of a successful show at PPOW Gallery when on the next to last day of the exhibition art critic Roberta Smith wrote a negative review of the work in The New York Times.

I had a strict rule of not reading any of my reviews good or bad. But Wendy from the gallery encouraged me to go out and buy the paper and read the review, because, she said, I would need to “be aware of what people would be saying about the work.” Reluctantly, I did as my gallerist instructed. Although it stung, I didn’t really care about the review at the time. But, the following months shed a different light on the negative ramifications of bad press. Several scheduled articles dried up. Sales slowed to a trickle. I found myself in need of appreciation and resources.

It was at this moment that my life took an unexpected turn. A catalogue from my exhibition had made it’s way to Chadds Ford, Pennsylvania and into the hands of Betsy Wyeth, wife of the most famous living American artist at the time, Andrew Wyeth.

Rumor had it that she had read the review in the Times, and being a proponent of American Realism, she had invited me out for a visit. Betsy Wyeth was full of encouraging words about the work. Perusing the exhibition catalogue she noticed in my bio that I’d been to film school at NYU. She asked me if I’d help her make a film about her husband. I’d been out of the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts for over 10 years and had never had a day job since graduating, but, this seemed like a fortuitous proposition.

Betsy and Andrew Wyeth on Benner Island, Maine, 2006 (photo Bo Bartlett)

One of the reasons I’d moved to Pennsylvania from my native Georgia 15 years earlier was to try to study privately with Andrew Wyeth. Upon arriving in Pennsylvania in the mid-1970s I’d spoken with him on the phone and he let me know that he didn’t accept private students. So I entered the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts (PAFA) and through a broader lens of American Art learned my own way of interpreting the world in paint. I had been taught at PAFA to stay away from “illustrators” and “draftsmen” like Wyeth. We were taught that such artists weren’t “painterly” enough and that their “handiwork” was just “skill” and “craft,” words shunned at the time as not “Modern” enough to be taken seriously by the Art World.

I had bought wholeheartedly into my art training, and when invited out to the Wyeth’s, I was honored but skeptical. Obviously, I knew more about art than this regionalist who had made it no further in his education than first grade, but circumstances dictated that I needed to take the job, so I began to help Mrs. Wyeth make a film about her husband.

Over the next four years I spent every day with the Wyeth’s — from 9am til sunset. We became fast friends. Not only did I have a secure paying job, but the Wyeth’s loved my work and were very supportive, buying paintings and encouraging me in my endeavors every step of the way. This praise and encouragement certainly was a salve that washed away the sting of an art critic. During these years I began to de-program myself from my art school training. Slowly, the scales were scraped from my eyes and I saw clearly what I’d once known, that the best paintings of Andrew Wyeth were indeed masterpieces, and each piece was a unique representation of his experience. He painted his own backyard, literally, in Maine and in Pennsylvania. He didn’t care if it was “abstract” or “realistic,” he didn’t make such useless distinctions. He didn’t come up with an idea and illustrate it. He would walk out of his house each morning and with eyes wide open he would experience the world, like a zen master, he would just look and be.

When he saw something that excited him he would reach for pencil and paper and do a quick sketch. If it continued to interest him he would do a more finished drawing. If his interest was not yet quenched he would grab his watercolors and add color. And if he had not thoroughly investigated what was before him, if his curiosity of his subject still wasn’t sated, he would get a panel and start a more detailed tempera painting. It wasn’t about “making Art,” he was just painting his life, recording his world.

  Helga, Andy, Betsy in Barlett’s “Painter’s Crossing” (1996)

He didn’t even title his paintings. His hunger to get it down was voracious and the resulting work was veracious. There was no intention whatsoever of pandering, not to a public, or a dealer, or a critic. He painted for himself and for his wife, Betsy. (And in later years, to Betsy’s chagrin, he collaborated with his model and muse Helga Testorf.) But in the end, it was a solitary act. Andrew Wyeth taught me what art is all about. I may have learned “how” to paint somewhere else, but I learned “why” to paint in Chadds Ford with Andrew Wyeth.

After a long day of working on the film — which became the documentary SnowHill (1995) — with Betsy, she’d invite me back over to their home, the Mill, and we’d all spend long evenings together eating, drinking, drawing, and talking art.

Andrew Wyeth had a vast knowledge of art, all art, ancient, classical, traditional, realism, abstract, modern. He enjoyed learning of new younger artists that he wasn’t familiar with, and he introduced me to artists with whom I was unfamiliar. We loved these exchanges. We drew one another. I asked him once how he stayed motivated over his long career, and in natural Wyeth obtuse fashion, he answered, “I’ll be going along and I’ll see a piece of barbed-wire with a piece of horses mane stuck on it, and it’ll just get me going.”

It is hard to imagine in these fast-paced internet times anyone slowing down enough to get excited by a piece of hair on a piece of barbed-wire, but this was the modus operandi of Andrew Wyeth. He painted what excited him. It was that simple. Andrew Wyeth had great courage. He didn’t let others dictate his path for him. He was true to himself. We were best friends right up until his death in 2009.

A sketch of Andrew Wyeth by Bo Bartlett

I’d last seen him in October of 2008, I was working on a small documentary film (SEE) and he’d agreed to have a little cameo. We enjoyed a meal together at Farmer’s Market in Tenant’s Harbor Maine — just me, my wife (artist Betsy Eby), Andy, and Helga. We filmed the whole meal. We talked shop and other artists and our latest paintings and our health and our life. We all assumed that there would be many more meals to share in the future. He was 92 but as sharp, playful, and chipper as a twelve-year-old boy. The very next week, he had been sitting for long hours painting outside when he stood up and had a serious fall. Medical complications in the following months led to his death. The world has not been the same since his passing. Just ask anyone familiar with Midcoast Maine or Pennsylvannia’s Brandywine Valley and they’ll tell you some magic is missing.

Andrew Wyeth was my artistic father, my mentor. I think of him everyday. I am grateful for our time together. I think of him as I make studies or plan a painting. I think of him as I paint. I think of him as I meet and encourage students and younger artists. The last time I saw him, outside of Farmer’s Market, the camera was still rolling as we said our goodbyes. We hugged and he waved back laughing. His last words to me were, “Keep yourself free!” In these times of uncertainty and cooption, may this last charge be an empowering mantra for us all.

A quote by Wyeth that Bartlett wrote down under the elder American Realist said it during one of their drawing sessions.

The post Remembering My Friend Andrew Wyeth on His 100th Birthday appeared first on Hyperallergic.

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[hottytoddynews]

By Susan Marquez. Photography by Tom Beck.

In a large sun-filled room on the second floor of the Triangle Cultural Center in downtown Yazoo City, artist Dennis Heckler surveys his studio.

A converted classroom, the large studio space still has the original chalkboards that span most of two walls, while banks of windows line the remaining walls. The 1904 building was originally constructed to be a school, and many of the original fixtures remain, from the door to the lights to the hardwood floors. Paintings fill the studio. Most of them are landscapes, etched into Heckler’s memory from years of driving through the southernmost part of the Mississippi Delta from Yazoo City to Jackson each day.

Worn yet comfortable furniture in the middle of the room creates a welcoming area for the artist and his guests to converse. Heckler has always liked drawing and has done so since he was a child living in Buffalo, New York. “Like most boys, I was fascinated with cowboys and Indians,” sees Heckler. Out of that fascination came an interest in the western desert region of the United States. “I was an illustrator and graphic designer in New York, and when a job came open for an art director in New Mexico, I moved there.”

Heckler enjoyed his time in the desert, hiking, camping and studying the sunsets and the ever-changing colors of the earth. His artist’s eye began to see how light had an effect on the surrounding landscape. But adventure and career opportunities called and Heckler moved to where the work was, living in Atlanta, Charleston, Denver and Jackson. “I have actually lived in Jackson twice,” he says. “The first time I moved to Jackson was in 1979; I moved from New Mexico right after the Easter flood in Jackson. I lived here a few years then moved to Charleston, South Carolina.” He met his wife, an advertising copy editor, in Charleston, and the couple moved to Jackson as a creative team to work for an ad agency. The couple both worked in advertising for many years but have recently retired.

Twenty years ago, they were looking for a place they could combine their vast collection of antiques. “When we got married, we each had a home, and each home was filled with antiques,” Heckler says. “We wanted a place where we could combine our collections and showcase them properly.” After looking at old homes throughout the mid-Mississippi area, the Hecklers found an historic home in downtown Yazoo City that suits them perfectly. They have been in the home for eighteen years.

Throughout that time, Heckler drove daily from Yazoo City to Madison. Each day he admired the views from his car window, often stopping to take photographs. Many of those scenes now appear in his paintings. “I am also a plein air painter,” says Heckler. “I’ve painted all over the Delta, traveling the backroads. That has allowed me to meet some of the nicest people. It gives me great pleasure when people stop to see what I am painting and they notice, maybe for the first time, what a beautiful place they may have overlooked.”

While still working in advertising, Heckler spent his spare time painting. His efforts have paid off; he has won numerous awards including several ‘best of show’ at art shows in Mississippi, as well as in North Carolina, South Carolina, Alabama and Florida, and he’ll be showing his work at the prestigious Kentuck Festival of the Arts in Northport, Alabama, in October.

His work has sold in galleries and in private collections in Europe as well. In 2015 he was selected to participate in the Oil Painters of America eastern regional juried exhibition that hung at a prestigious gallery in Indianapolis, Indiana. Earlier this year, Heckler was awarded a spot in the National Oil and Acrylic Painters Society international exhibit.

Now that he is retired, Heckler is looking forward to being a full-time artist as well as to serving as an ambassador for the arts. “That’s important to me. I want to see more interest in art, for people to become more visually sensitive. There is too much time, in my opinion, spent in front of iPads and televisions. Art should make you think, even create an emotional response to it. If people would take the time to really observe art, to feel the texture of a piece of pottery or study the brush strokes in a painting, they’d have more of an appreciation of art and the artist.” Heckler says that he is contemplating writing blog posts on why art is important.

Most of Heckler’s work is created in oils, primarily using only palette knives to create the lifelike clouds, trees and landscapes. He fans out an array of paint-spattered palette knives of all sizes to show the tools of his trade. But he’s also painting with watercolor, a medium he finds very satisfying as well. Heckler says that while he’s in the studio, he paints listening to music, ranging from bluegrass, jazz and gospel to indie, punk rock and classical. “I have a wide range of musical tastes,” he laughs.

Heckler says that painting is so different from his work in advertising. “With advertising, it’s identifying a problem then coming up with a solution. I couldn’t always make that connection with fine art. Now I can. I have always been an active outdoors person who is environmentally conscious. I think it’s my duty, of sorts, to paint things and locations that may not exist for long. I feel compelled to paint places where I like to spend time, and that gives me purpose. Standing in a meadow with trees swaying in the breeze and sunshine on my face is my new office. Hopefully, what I do with my work will make people happy and spend a little time in a special place in one of my paintings.”

For more on Dennis Heckler’s work visit his website at http://ift.tt/2oFD2Ts.

Scott Coopwood, publisher of Delta Magazine.

Delta Magazine is considered one of the most unique regional lifestyle publications, which some even call “the most southern magazine on earth.” The Mississippi Delta is known for its literary, musical and culinary heritage, as well as for its legendary entertaining style and social traditions. The bi-monthly Delta Magazine embodies every aspect of the Mississippi Delta with its fresh content, cutting-edge photography and devoted readership. Learn more by visiting deltamagazine.com.

For questions or comments, email hottytoddynews@gmail.com.

The post Delta Magazine: Dennis Heckler, Painting With Purpose appeared first on HottyToddy.com.

[wallpaperpainter]

How To Get People To Like Landscape Oil Pastel | Landscape Oil Pastel

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