Whose Fields These Are
Whose fields these are…
Whose fields these are I think I know…
His house presides o’er fence below.
His cattle say their grace each day
Content to watch and eat and stay.
The fields, they hum a beckoning tune-
To roam, to fly, to surf their dune,
To live with graceful, swaying ease,
To know no bounds, nor responsibilities.
To run and play and frolic free,
To chase the butterfly…or not…as you please.
Walking away, their song remains,
Though I am bound for my life’s restrain.
And as I enter my home’s gate,
I bow my head to plead for grace…
To watch and eat and yes, to stay;
To boundlessly live within the fray.
May 29, 2010
Jennifer Edwards
**For those of you who have just recently joined me here on Drawn2Life:
My neighborhood is right next to a beautiful farm owned and run by an incredibly young 84 year old man named Mr. Whicker. You can read more about “My Field” here and here and here. And for even more, you can click on the category “The Field” over in the right-hand margin. It is a place of inspiration for me which I frequent every day on my walks and as I drive through it, out into the world.
What We’re Looking For…
Every day, I flip the lime green lid of my iPad, and after some minutes of perusing the latest postings on my Google Reader, browsing through the latest Facebook updates, reading emails, touching base with favorite apps…I begin to wonder, “What is it I’m looking for?”
On Sundays, beginning Saturday evening, I try to take a break from it all. I try! It is amazing to notice in oneself the pull of the afore-mentioned things. To note the lure of “just checking in”. Really, what is it I’m looking for?
I’ve just returned from a five-mile walk in and around my neighborhood. I don’t typically do the full 5-mile loop (usually just 2 or 3), but today, I really wanted to be out for a long lovely walk, breathe in the fresh air, hear the leaves rustling as a storm-front begins to roll in. What is it that lures me out on these walks? What is this siren song that sings to me, calling me to come tromp the paved roads while taking in roadside wildflowers? It hit me while I was out there…
Inspiration. Aren’t we all looking for inspiration? We want to be romanced…and I don’t mean in the gooey, lovey way, but in that classic sense of being wooed and won over by Beauty. I look for it when I peer into my iPad, I look for it on my walks, I look for it in the faces of my lovely family who has celebrated me on this Mother’s Day in such a touching way.
To say that I would prefer to be out of doors to gazing into a rectangular square gadget would be an understatement. I often think I could walk and walk and be filled to brimming over with Beauty. My life doesn’t allow for this. The key is to go a-gathering…to drink in as much of it as I can, to harvest it if you will, so that I can then spill it over to those I live with and around. And even perhaps a drop or two of it to you, my blog friend.
It was on an artist’s blog that I found this quote by Wendell Berry. I cannot for the life of me remember whose it was. It was weeks ago. But the poem has stuck with me and has inspired me on many occasion as I recall it to mind. I’ll leave it with you today…in hopes that you might also choose the outdoors over technology on occasion. That you might drink in the Beauty even of just a breeze on the skin, or the smell of grass and earth. And that it might restore your worries to a sense that all will be well. Perhaps you could paint it, draw it, write about it then. When inspiration comes my way, I just have to translate it somehow in a drawn image…perhaps that’s my way of finally ingesting it into my heart and life.
The Peace of Wild Things
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
— Wendell Berry
The Sparkle of Fall
Before we leave fall color behind, I wanted you to see two other sketches made near My Field. Here I’m trying out different mediums, inspired by the One Drawing A Day book I told you about here. In these I’ve used crayons, just regular ‘ole crayons to draw with, or to put in accents here and there. The watercolor paint won’t adhere to the paper where wax crayon has been used.
It offers a sparkling effect…enhancing the glowing colors. In the drawing below, I used the crayon mostly as outline, whereas in the first drawing, crayon is used more for interior accent and texture. The first sketch is facing the entrance to my neighborhood which is right on the corner of The Field. The second sketch is 90 degrees to the right of this sign, a conglomeration of color by the road leading into and out of the neighborhood.
I already miss the sparkle of Fall…
Autumn Blaze Continued…
And so, I set my chair down in different spots along Silver Dapple Lane…to see my world from new vantage points. I’m also varying the tools I use to draw. We need this, both in life and in our art…to have our eyes refreshed with new vision and to vary how we walk through it.
This view is from down the Lane a bit, with Mr. Whicker’s driveway turning off to the right…do you see his mailbox? He planted the Autumn Blaze trees along the road as well as down his driveway. I’m using a calligraphy pen with a cartridge of non-waterproof ink to draw with here as well as in the previous two drawings. It creates wonderful passages when you go in with the paint…dissolving the ink in places, running it into the colors.
This is a quicker sketch of one of the barns through the blazing trees. At first I didn’t like this sketch, but it has grown on me…something to do with it’s quick, dashed off look harkening to the hasty demise of Autumn. I walk along the Lane now and everything is bare. Wind and rain has completely carried away the dress of Autumn’s Blaze. There aren’t even any embers on the ground around them.
Though there’s something sad about Fall’s leaving…I do find a strange joy in the bare, stark trees and ground around me. It feels clean. Open. Free of clutter. Fresh. Like a new white page in my sketchbook. I’m looking forward to donning hat and gloves to draw the winter field, to find the Beauty lurking there.
I hope you’ll come along too.
Autumn Blaze…A Gift
“Jennifa”, he says in his lovely southern drawl, “I planted these for my granddaughter. I told her I planted them so that when I’m gone, she could enjoy their beauty and remember me. They are called, Autumn Blaze.”
Mr. Whicker, 85 years old this fall, stops in his truck often to talk to me on my walks. He’s a gentleman’s gentleman, a farmer who makes the Energizer Bunny look lazy. He always asks about my family and then tells me of his, how they’re doing, how proud he is of them. I just had to capture these trees he had planted a few years ago.
To gain perspective, the charcoal drawing here might help you a bit. The above drawing is of the area of fence to the LEFT of his driveway up to his house. It is not pictured in the charcoal drawing. But the drawing below, is of the RIGHT of the driveway, you’ll recognize it right away. If you turned around 180 degrees from these views, you would see the Field. It sits as a second front yard, outside his fenced in front yard, and just across Silver Dapple Lane.
I wonder if Mr. Whicker realizes these trees are a gift to more than just his granddaughter. They certainly are a gift to me, and to all who have an eye to enjoy them. I have a couple more of these Autumn Blaze paintings for you…tomorrow…hope to see you then.
A Field Alive!
As I walked out into the middle of my outdoor studio, the most delightful thing happened. Walking up to the edge of the field, I could HEAR that the field was alive…that wonderful sound of crickets and whatever else makes those noises we love. But as I took a step into the field, ten or more “things” went flying, scooting away from each footfall! As I walked, it looked like a field version of an ocean scene…where schools of dolphin leap and frolic alongside a boat moving through the water. These were schools of crickets, or grasshoppers (I know not which) bounding and leaping away with each step I took. I laughed at the delight of it and wondered if they would keep on leaping once I’d set up my chair and started drawing. Alas, they settled down as well, and I wondered if they were curious about their field visitor.
So…imagine, if you will, from the last post’s drawing, that you are making 90 degree turns to the right in your sketching chair. The last post’s view was toward Mr. Whicker’s farm, across Silver Dapple Lane. The first drawing in this post has you looking in the direction of Silver Dapple intersecting with Hastings Hill Rd, with his farm on your left (unseen) and the little dab of road in the upper left corner is the end of Silver Dapple Lane. The next drawing is another 90 degree turn to the right, now facing across Hastings Hill Rd, where homes begin at Emmaus Rd.
The world of nature, no matter whether it’s suburban or country, always feels alive to me, crickets or no. Trees, lanes, homes, lawns, wildflowers, skies, clouds, even the weeds, buzz with life.
It always enlivens ME to be out in it.
The Pasture…as seen from My Field
The vantage point I have in my field this particular day, was actually IN the field. I had set up my folding chair and supplies right in the middle, so as to draw views all around me. This view is over towards Mr. Whicker’s farm. His cows were not out that day as they often are, grazing in his fenced in, front yard pasture. When I’m in my field, I often have this Robert Frost poem running in my head.
The first time I read this poem was in a hand-written note to me by my husband of 23 years. But at the time of writing, we had just barely begun to get to know each other as seniors at Appalachian State University. I had tracked down his campus mail-box and was sending him notes filled with my favorite quotes and poems…this was one of the first notes he, the English major, wrote back to me:
The Pasture
By Robert Frost 1874–1963 Robert Frost
A Corner of My Field
I walk up the rise from my house, and this is the first bit of the field you see as you exit our neighborhood. It’s alive with all kinds of wild weeds and flowers…my absolute favorite kinds! Somehow, tangles of goldenrod and other wild growth really speak to me. I made a little video (very very UN professional!) so you could hear my field. You just gotta be here feeling the weather of the day, the sounds of the field to really get a sense of why I’m so in love with this spot. Perhaps my little video will give you a feel for it. There’s always the hope that drawing on-site will actually get these sights and sounds into the drawing. I’m not sure ’bout that, but I do hope you enjoy!
Click here to view hear it!
A Get-Away
“My Field”, which I’m calling the lovely patch of land at the top of my neighborhood, is probably the best get-away a girl could have. Considering the realities of my life, these are the perks:
*It doesn’t cost ANYTHING!
*I get to stay close to home, close to Maddie at school.
*No packing, planning for the family while I’m gone.
*Plenty of quiet and solitude, except for the birds, crickets, occasional cars going by.
*Lots of fresh air and beautiful views.
*Option to have a mini half-hour get-away or an extended couple-hours stay is flexible and open-ended.
This particular day, the roof was a smidge leaky, but it didn’t dampen the fun! This view is down Silver Dapple Lane with Mr. Whickers farm on the left. You only see his mailbox though.
More to come in the days to come!
My Field…a beginning
Longing to draw the field at the top of my neighborhood. Determined to draw it from every angle possible. Just simple line & wash drawings. It’s not really “my” field. It belongs to Mr. Whicker, whose farm sits on the other side of the road from the little field which grows, morphs, and molts it’s wheat a few times a year. I love this field. It was a drizzly day, a couple of weeks ago, when I drew this.
Sitting in a chair, off the side of Silver Dapple Lane which runs down beside my field, doesn’t offer the same viewpoint as I have when standing. I’m going to have to learn to stand when I draw. Perhaps next time I will do just that…stand and draw on the same spot in the same direction as this, so you can see more of the field, not just the edges here. So you can see the road, Hastings Hill on the other side of the field, and then the further field and neighborhood beyond that.
Be on the lookout for more Field drawings…I want to show you my field, as if you were with me walking by it, standing next to it, breathing it in.
Translating
In a very real sense, when we draw or paint any subject, we are translating it from one “language” into another. We either translate directly from the landscape, figure, or still life into the worlds of paint, or charcoal, or pen and ink… Or we begin with a 2-d photograph and translate what we see there into a different 2-d form. I used photos of my favorite places right where I live: Mr. Whicker’s farm and Smith Hollow Lane. It’s fun to ask yourself: How can I translate this image into pen? What lines would express what I see here? Would twirly lines describe this particular tree? Would straight lines, without crosshatching describe the movement of the land? What is the value pattern here, and how can I alter it to make it stronger?
Vincent Van Gogh was a master at translating the landscape into his own language of dots, dashes, swirls, hatches, etc. If you’ve never seen his drawings, YOU MUST! Here and here are examples to give you a glimpse of the language he employed to translate what he saw all around him. If you look back at your sketchbook, you’ll probably see the language you use to translate your world onto paper. It’s SO much fun…being a translator!
Personaleetay!
Remember him? and him? Well, it’s all the same cow, really. He’s just so full of personality, I keep painting him and his friends who were all quite curious of me snapping photos of them back in the spring up on Mr. Whicker’s land. Well, it’s actually like a DISINTERESTED curiosity, if there is such a thing! If I could hear him talk, he might be saying, “Humph! We’re just mindin’ our own business here, lady…why don’t you mind yours!”
Searching…
I’ve been searching for something recently. The what & how of it is caught up in a longing I’ve had to draw/paint outdoors more. Every fall and spring this hits me pretty hard, yet I get stuck in the whole what-do-I-take, how-do-I-set-up, where-do-I-go?, will-I-be-safe thing. I’m aware these are all “blocks”. In the past I have succombed to these blocks. But I’m determined to “get over it” NOW! This little painting, though made in the comfort of my studio a couple of days ago, is helpful in many ways: I’m excited about the watercolor/pastel combo which solves the what-do-I-take question, and also leads me to realize how-do-I-set-up. I’d been wrestling with whether I only wanted to sketch outdoors, thus needing only pens and watercolor which would mean just a folding chair and probably no easel. If I chose to do purely watercolor, I may or may not have needed an easel, depending on size, etc. But now that I’m jazzed about these little watercolor/pastel combos, I have just the set-up with my Jullian French easel I’ve had for years, but which hasn’t seen a ton of outdoor use. It is perfect for an indoor easel where space is limited…I set it up when needed, and break it down when not in use. Now I’m setting my sights for giving it a go en plein air, which is what it was designed for.
“En plein air”…um, well, there’s the rub. Me, myself and I “in the open air” or “in plain view”. I think all these years the thing that really holds me back is your basic home-grown “fear”…I’m afraid I will not make very good paintings. The comfort of one’s studio lies in the ability to NOT SHOW what you are doing. If you go plunk yourself down in your downtown area, your public gardens, your neighborhood, or even your back yard, you are subject to onlookers. Can I handle this? Not sure about that, perhaps even doubtful…but I’m gonna plow through.
Even as I write, I’ve taken Jullian out for a spin in the back yard…I’ll show you what came of that in my next post. So this is how I’m gonna solve the where-do-I-go? issue: I’m starting on my back deck, and in my own yard. There are very paintable things right here, in the relative “safety” of my own yard. Then, I’ll branch out to my neighborhood and show you some of the beauty of what I see on my walks. Then, perhaps I’ll have some confidence and courage to go downtown, to gardens, to the school where I teach, etc. I hope you’ll come along with me on my little journey of “blasting through blocks”.
It does seem crazy that someone who has been painting and drawing for 13 years could still be so beset by fear!! But, there it is…and so, with sword in hand (or pastels rather), I take a whack at it.
P.S. A bit about the painting…you’ve heard me refer to Mr. Whicker’s farm just up the street at the entrance to our neighborhood. This is his driveway. Here’s a charcoal, larger version of the driveway which leads up to the barns on the right, not included in this little painting, nor is his house on the left. I did include my shadow which showed up while taking the picture. I want to sit/stand there, RIGHT THERE, and paint, paint, paint! No more photos!!
Oh, and the painting is 6″ x 6″.
And sorry for the looonnnngggg post!
Furry Friend…Portraits #11 & 12
Well, I never said these 100 portraits had to all be people! I just HAD to paint this guys’ portrait! He was beggin’ me: standing there in Mr. Whicker’s field chewing and staring at me. What I didn’t realize when I snapped his photograph, was the bright sun bleaching out the green grass and making one big shape of the grass, the fence behind, and the side of his face…totally cool for a painting! I wanted to achieve the connection between all these “things” into one large shape. And then to connect the dark shapes of his face, his body, and the green trees behind him. It was a terrific way to practice this whole thing of seeing the light & dark shapes and connecting them.
Then, after I painted the first one, I just had to try it in a different color scheme. I had a theory forming in my head from Portrait #10, that one can achieve a wonderful sense of light without having to “match” the dark value to just what you see in a photo. I noticed this in several of Charles Reid’s paintings from his book Watercolor Solutions. In it, there are two paintings of John Singer Sargent where Mr. Reid paints from a black & white photo of Mr. Sargent. None of the dark values in Charles Reid’s paintings are anywhere near as dark as the photograph’s. It struck me that the sense of light he achieved was just as strong…perhaps even better than having such dark shapes. I stumbled on this in the last Portrait (#10). And wanted to make another go of it with my new furry friend from the field above our neighborhood.
It’s fun to make a series of the SAME painting. I might just keep going with this…see what I come up with.
Beauty Right Around the Corner
About a year ago, I decided to make some small sketches of a beautiful spot at the top of our neighborhood. Wyndfall was built on land neighboring a farm owned by Mr. Leo Whicker. I assumed that Wyndfall was built on what used to be his land, but I came to find out, through wonderful serendipitous events, that my neighborhood actually sits on Smith land. The Smiths and the Whickers have long been friends and landowners here in Kernersville. From these sketches and some photographs, I made a charcoal drawing of his barn and house; and in the process was able to meet him, get to know him and the history of his land and of this part of the town I live in. I LOVE this kind of stuff: learning about the history of land and how it changed hands over the years, and meeting such wonderful people as Mr. Whicker and Mrs. Gail Smith Love, from whom I’ve learned much of the history of “these parts”. Some day, I will post a much longer segment about this area and its people, featuring these two grand folks who have lived here in Kernersville all their lives. For now, i’m tickled pink that this drawing will hang in Mr. Whicker’s home. My next, self-imposed assignment is to make a charcoal portrait of him…you will not believe how youthful and full of mirth this 82 year old gentleman is. He is a delight to talk to and a wealth of information and history. He AND his land are beauties that exist right around the corner from my house. How fortunate am I!
An Experiment
I’ve had this canvas, 30″x 40″, for several years, just sitting in a closet waiting for…well, I’m not sure what. Last summer I had an itch to paint something on it, but never felt like I had the right thing, and perhaps that ‘ol fear of large white spaces was looming as well. So I was determined to put something on it this summer. I started off with a teacup and teapot, as I used to do, in big, bold shapes and colors…but it just wasn’t right, it wasn’t “me” anymore, it just wasn’t happenin’. The thing I kept thinking was…I sure wish I could get the “sketchiness” of my sketchbook onto a large canvas… So. I covered over the whole thing with gesso and various colors, then went into it with some brown acrylic lines and voila! Fun. I really enjoyed it and I like this big thing in my dining room.
This is a sketch painting of the view up at the top of our neighborhood. We see the backside of this villa-like home from Mr. Whicker’s field which is filled with white morning glories all summer long. I had made several sketches of this view last summer following my morning walks. I like that it is a place familiar to me, and the simplicity of it is just what I was looking for.
So now I have plans for more. But with bolder lines and colors…hmmm. Maybe something like this:
That would be way cool on a big canvas…
Now I just need the guts to do it!!:)
