Painting at mid-day is sometimes maligned because light at overhead angles can cast harshly on subjects; shadows are shorter and darker. Photographers greatly prefer the softer light of early morning or late afternoon, along with the dramatic, long shadows.
On a beautiful Spring day however, large puffy clouds with the sun overhead are particularly beautiful. I decided to let the sky predominate in this canvas while minimizing the amount of canvas devoted to the actual subject and terrain - those presumed victims of the unflattering light.
I grab my two inch wide brush with the extra long handle and roughed in some shapes I liked by painting the negative, or sky blue spaces around my clouds-to-be. I was using a mixture of cerulean blue and white. As I moved toward the horizon, I gradually added a little more white and a very small amount of red to give the feeling of atmosphere and distance.
Backdrop - Clouds at Midday |
The next part of the clouds is the reward, painting the lacy lit edges around them. I couldn't see the top of the biggest cloud above. I could only see its underside and all the bright edges. I gave this big cloud its frilly edges of light, but feathered the lit edges toward the center of the cloud, and keeping the outside edges more defined. I continued edging the clouds, smaller, less distinct, and bluer all the way to the horizon.
The view of the clouds that were further away was more like a cross section, or side view. I could see the narrow underside of bluish grey, the wispy sides, and the sunlit tops.
Now that I had a canvas with a bright, wide open sky, I continue the theme of space looking up a flowery hillside.
With a one inch bristle house painting brush, I roughed in the green grasses with cadmium green, cadmium yellow deep, lemon yellow. I then used the same brush to pick up some raw sienna and yellow ochre for dry grassy reeds over the green.
A group of children with butterfly nets raced across the wildgrasses to the patch of clover seeking butterflies I didn't see. This boy reminded me of the thin, graceful and intense athleticism of my own boys at that age.
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