An Acrylic Detour

Dark-eyed Junco in Pine. Acrylic Painting by Ken Januski.

In going through my expired listings on my Etsy store the other day I noticed this painting of a Dark-eyed Junco in the small Swiss Stone Pine in our backyard. The painting itself is next to the light switch in my studio so I see it every day. But it's always seemed a bit unfinished to me. It may also be the first acrylic I did in 15-20 years. I do know it was one of the first, if not the first.

In any case I finally decided to put down printmaking tools and watercolors and pick up my acrylics. Above is the updated version. Primarily it sharpens the bill and adds some dark to the background.

Killdeer on Rock Bar. Acrylic Painting by Ken Januski.

Of course once I started on it I looked at another painting in my studio, a Killdeer on a rock bar in the wetlands pond of Morris Arboretum. I struggled and struggled with this painting a year or more ago. I did exhibit it for sale but never actually put it up for sale online because something kept nagging me about it. In any case I also reworked it. Most of the work was spent on making the rock bar lighter in tone.

The Junco is a small 6x8 inch painting. This is a larger 11x14 inch painting.

White-throated Sparrow. Unfinished Acrylic Painting by Ken Januski.

After finishing these two I couldn't resist trying a new 6x8 inch canvas since I had one just sitting there. This is not at all done. But before I worked too much on the background I wanted to concentrate on getting this handsome White-throated Sparrow right. I'm just starting to see them again and they'll be here all winter and much of the spring. Each time I see them I realize how handsome they are. Sparrows have a subtle beauty.

It sometimes is a mistake not to have figured out the background before you actually start the painting. When you don't you cans spend forever, fiddling here and fiddling there trying to make the whole thing work. I have some confidence that won't be the case here. but I could easily be wrong.

Keep Sketching, and Painting

Ovenbird at Magee Marsh. Watercolor by Ken Januski.

Great Egret at Morris Arboretum. Watercolor by Ken Januski

With the arrival of football season once again......... I know it's almost June but the weather has been reminiscent of early fall, with a real chill in the air. We started off birding on Friday morning, after dropping off one of our cats at the vet, in low 60 degree weather. As the rain continued the temperature plunged. Soon we were birding, none too successfully, in 49 degree weather.

When we returned from the vet I decided that I wasn't going to bird again until the wind died down and the weather warmed up. As I sat in my studio trying to decide what to do I looked through some photos and once again turned to sketching, again in my Stillman and Birn 5.5x8.5 Gamma sketchbook.

As Bob Kuhn, among many others, has said: you should always keep drawing. I think that's true. One loss I felt when I turned to completely abstract work was that of drawing. Though I still drew it wasn't from anything real. I always missed that. Now that I'm doing it again I remember just how satisfying it is.

At the same time though I'd add 'Keep Painting.' They really are two different methods of portraying the world, though often quite well merged in many successful artists. There's the desire for line and structure that drawing fulfills. And there's the desire for color, shape, texture that paint seems better at.

For some reason at least to me it seems that wildlife art relies more on the linear aspect of art, perhaps because of its desire for verisimilitude. But painting is about paint, whether oil, acrylic or something else. For me watercolor remains a difficult but rewarding medium. So after I'd done these two sketches I decided to continue on in watercolor. Particularly with the ovenbird it became much more a painting than a drawing with watercolor added. To me it's just as important to keep painting as it is to keep sketching. Do both, and eventually, you'll have something to show for it.

I'd much prefer if I could work from life like this, rather than rely on photos. But it is a learning experience, particularly in regard to learning watercolor. I'm sure it will eventually pay off in the field, the next time that ovenbird walks by.

Scenes of Summer

I suppose the typical natural scene of summer depends on where you live. If we lived nearer the coast I'm sure that terns and shorebirds would come to mind as part of a typical summer for us. Here though I think one of the scenes that most typifies summer to me are orange skippers on purplish ironweed. To me it is an irresistible color combination, especially when combined with the green foliage of the ironweed. Yesterday we were at Morris Arboretum scouting out birds, dragonflies and damselflies and found the scene above.
I'd love to make a painting or print from this and probably will at some time. But yesterday I was so out of practice that even my field sketches of two Green Herons and an immature Great Crested Flycatcher weren't much to speak of. I wasn't about to try to sketch butterflies, dragonflies or wildflowers. So I took a number of photos. Only after I got home did I ID the butterflies as Zabulon and Least Skipper. I'm not absolutely sure on the Zabulon but the tiny size and distinct markings don't leave much doubt as to what the small skipper is. And now I have three 'Leasts' that I always love to see: Least Sandpiper, already in Pennsylvania but not seen at Morris, Least Tern, the subject of my last acrylic painting, and now the handsome Least Skipper.

There was quite a swarm of Least Skippers. Though we did see the one on ironweed most were seen on mint leaves, and on the flowering plant above. It's equally as striking a combination as that of skippers and ironweed. The color and shape of the flowers are quite striking. When we saw these skippers most were on mint-like leaves. So we just assumed they were mint. But as I looked at these flowers I was pretty sure that they weren't mint. They did remind me of an agastache that we once grew in our garden. Today I did a quick online search for agastache and now I'm not convinced that this is what it is. Still I think it must be in the mint family. Eventually I'll do a bit more investigating.
It too calls out for a painting or print. Though these photos looked good enough on t he camera they're quite disappointing here. That seems to always be the case with me and photos. And that's why I paint: to try to get the excitement of actually seeing something.

I was temped to title this post 'Good Progress', and then make fun of the title. What other progress is there? If things are progressing then they are good. If not they are regressing and bad. In truth a more accurate title might have been 'Slow Progress' for the lino above and 'Possible Regression' for the lino below.

I've said before that much of my art I consider to be a type of orchestration: of color, shape, tone, pattern, texture, composition. Unless I'm just doing a study then it is far more than just putting a likeness down on paper or canvas. Whether or not anyone sees this is secondary. It would be nice but it's generally too much to expect. So I keep changing things, trying to reach my idiosyncratic sense of what looks like a finished painting or print. I wouldn't bring this up except to explain why I've spent so much time on these two prints.
The top one of a Hermit Thrush and Sandhill Cranes at Horicon Marsh in Wisconsin is coming along well and just about ready for me to print an edition. The bottom one now has the second color printed. I was very tempted to leave this lino with just two colors, a golden/ochre and black. But I decided to add a third color, a brown for the sandpiper and dead stems. I'm not happy with the new color. I'm awaiting a shipment of black ink. When it arrives I'll see if the third black color can salvage this. I surely hope so. I will have spent 40 hours on it by the time I'm done. If not it will be a disappointment for sure, but sometimes you just need to have failures in order to learn. Time will tell.