Catching Up - Part 3

 

Manter Creek
8” x 10”
Multicolor Relief Print

Several years ago, we went on a backpack trip into the Domeland Wilderness in California. It is a remote, little-known wilderness that burned about 10 years before our trip. This resulted in an incredible landscape with patches of standing and fallen burnt trees intermingled with baby trees that sprouted after the fire, as well as tremendously large trees the fire left behind. The trail was challenging. We had to climb over and crawl under more trees than we could count.

We camped on Manter Creek, an oasis surrounded by land that had mostly burned. The cool of the creek in the heat of September was a delight at the end of each day. The nights were surprisingly cool, so the campfire was a welcome addition to our circle of friends.

Over the four-day trip, we only saw two people and a couple of rattlesnakes. One night, a pack of coyotes ran through our camp yipping like wild teenagers whose parents were out of town.

Here is the piece with only three color plates completed.

 

It was the wildest and most beautiful place I’ve ever been. I created several paintings and monoprints from this trip. The idea for this piece is taken from one of those paintings. Having a familiar subject allowed me to explore technique and color in the process of creating the prints.

 

Wild Iris
8” x 10”
Multicolor Relief Print

I love Wild Iris. It was rare to see them in the San Gabriel Mountains of California. But here in Colorado, there are fields of them in early summer. Especially after a wet winter. It’s truly incredible.

This piece was also taken from a watercolor painting I did of an Iris that was a delightful surprise on a trail we hiked frequently. It was a “reward” after climbing a fairly steep hill that was deeper into the hike. You know, past the point where the casual hikers wearing tennies and carrying a 12 oz. bottle of water give up on “hiking”?

 

Here, you can see the partially completed prints.

Something unique about this piece is that I mixed the plate colors in such a sequence that I didn't have to wash my inking surface between colors. I went from pale yellow to coral, then pink, on to green, blue, and then black. This created color harmony as each succeeding color had a little of the previous color in it.

Return to Hop Valley

 

Return to Hop Valley Sunrise

10” X 8”

Watercolor

 

Sometimes a place sticks with you—and at the time—you may not think, I’m going to remember this forever, but you do. This is one of those places and times that I’ll never forget. 

We left before dawn to beat the heat hiking back out from La Verkin Creek where we’d spent a couple of nights. We were well into Hop Valley when the rising sun finally hit the far wall of the narrow canyon, the walls reflecting in the creek like fire, the shadows deep blue and purple where the sun had yet to arrive. As we rounded the curve and came into the full light of the sun, the valley ahead was a riot of orange and pink. It was breathtaking. The day grew warm quickly as the color faded to bone and buff like a song fading away.

I’ve painted this before (twice!) and I had to paint it again. Occasionally I’ll paint the same thing twice (rarely thrice), using different media. It’s as though I haven’t yet finished what I have to say about a subject. There’s still more of it inside that needs to come out in a painting, I guess.

We’ve seen some great sunrises and sunsets on our adventures. A couple of my favorites (along with this one) were at the DomelandWilderness (a wild, wild place) and HERE at Trail Camp just below Mount Whitney, the morning after we summited.

Hop Valley Sunrise

Hop Valley Sunrise

11.5” X 10”

Acrylic on a reclaimed cabinet door - upcycling!

A few years ago, me and “the boys” (Clint and our two hiking buddies Bob and Peter), went on a backpack trip in Zion through Hop Valley down to La Verkin Creek. It was October, but still very warm, so the morning we hiked out, we loaded up our packs and hit the trail in the dark wearing our headlamps. 

The walk started with a steep climb out of the canyon and by the time we made it to the top and started to cross the narrow valley, the sun was up. But, the cliffs blocked the sun—so it took a while before the light hit the west side of the valley in a blaze of color. But when it did, it was spectacular. Something I will never forget.

Apologies to my hiking mates, who were ahead of me when I took the photo, I didn't include them in the painting. As usual, I was bringing up the rear.

Upcycling Part 2: Hop Valley Sunrise

Hop Valley Sunrise

Acrylic on Oak Cabinet Door

Approximately 12" X 14"

We shouldered our packs in the dark. Headlamps in place, we set out on the steep trail rising from the canyon cradling La Verkin Creek. I'd never hiked in the dark before. My head down, with intense focus, I plodded up the trail. When we hike, we have a running joke when someone stumbles: "We're not carrying you out of here, so you better be careful". I always laugh, but meanwhile my stomach does flip-flops and I mind my steps ever so carefully.

The morning was cool—in the high 30s—yet with the effort of climbing it wasn't long before we stopped to peel off a layer or two of clothing. By the time we reached the top, it was light enough to see, but the sun hadn't risen over the walls that lined the valley ahead of us. We hiked in deep cobalt shadows while the sky grew brighter and bluer.

Then, ahead of us, the sun began to hit the east-facing wall—bursting into a blazing coral, then orange, the folds and shadows shifting to purple. We were still in the lee of a jutting ridge, yet the fiery reflection reached back to where we crossed the meandering creek. It lit our hearts with its brilliance. We paused and watched the show as the sun fully crested the ridge, and then stepped into the full light of the new day.