Peaches

"Peaches" -- oil on canvas 30x30" -- Margie Guyot

 

Late August and the peaches are ripe here in northern Michigan.  I got these at King's Market, on US31, between Eastport and Elk Rapids.  Since tree-ripened peaches are notorious for attracting clouds of fruit flies (!), I worked as quickly as possible. 

 

Luckily, I happened to have a perfectly-suited vintage tablecloth, in shades of blue.  Years ago I realized that the paintings that seemed to have to most visual impact were the ones done in contrasting colors: red and green, yellow and lavender, etc.  So yes, it was a conscious decision to pair the orange peaches with the blue cloth. 

 

One of the most fascinating things is to throw a vintage tablecloth onto the table and let it fall into wrinkles and folds.  Then try to paint it. 

 

I noticed that the peaches changed color the longer they sat there.  They were considerably redder as they aged.  And it being "up north, along Lake Michigan", it was frequently cloudy.  Which greatly affects the colors and shadows.  So it's always kind of a guessing game with painting still lifes up here!

 

Yes, I did manage to finish this painting ahead of the fruit fly invasion!  The peaches became a pie.

Caladiums

"Caladiums" -- oil on canvas 36x36" -- Margie Guyot

Ever see something that made you want to jump and shout?  When I saw these at Pine Hill Nursery, I wanted to do cartwheels (ha ha -- wouldn't that be a sight?).  The hot pink was irresistible. 

I'll show you a photo of my studio setup.  99.9% of the time I work directly from life. 

Some years ago I'd bought a tube of "Aurora Pink", by Shinhan, a Korean paint company.  It was perfect for this painting.  It's a very intense, unnatural hot pink.  And I was almost out of it.  Nobody seemed to carry it anymore.  I did a Google search and finally found a seller -- on eBay.  The seller was in Korea.  3 tubes of it are now enroute.  A lifetime supply, I figure. 

Some colors (such as pink) cannot be mixed!  Mix red and white and it turns into a muddy pink. 

I did have a little help now and then from Picasso, my adoring cat.  You may recognize him from my previous painting, "Cosmic":

Notice how Picasso's white fur reflects the pink?  This has not been Photoshopped.  That's another reason why most plein air landscape painters wear black shirts when painting.  The light bounces off shirts onto the canvas.  It can be a huge problem if one is wearing a brightly colored shirt.

Every painting has its challenges.  The hardest part on this one was the pink bowl (upper right).  I've painted it several times.  And it hasn't gotten any easier! 

Cosmic

"Cosmic" -- 60x40" -- oil on canvas -- Margie Guyot

Yes, it's been a while since I've posted anything.  I had some health issues going on.  But I'm feeling fine now!  This painting, "Cosmic", has a lot of symbolism going on.  Picasso (the black & white cat) is lying flat-out, with a glazed look on his face, in a Cosmic Catnip stupor.  Well, I had days of that on Oxycodone.  Thank goodness all that's a thing of the past! 

My usual method of painting is to set up a still life and paint what I see.  But just try to get cats to hold a pose!  I had to refer to a photo I'd snapped.  And the night-blooming cereus (the big flowers at the top) only stays open for 1 night a year.  I'd taken photos of my plant in bloom, so that was the other photographic reference I had to use.  Everything else was painted from life.

This kind of painting (I guess you could call it surreal) is the hardest type for me to do.  I'd made a little pencil sketch before starting, but it was only a guess:

 

 

As I painted, I had to make choices about what fabric to use and how to arrange it.  A stop at a grocery store yielded a lucky find: bright gladiolas, which I love.  But how to arrange them?  I had to be mindful of the angle of the viewer: looking down at the cats.  So I had to figure out how to incorporate the tall gladiolas (gladioli?) that would make sense.  And how to position them to make the painting "flow":

 



So while some people might see the cats and dismiss it as  "sentimental schmaltz", they're not understanding the fact that it's symbolic of my healing experience.

Blue Spotted Vase

"Blue Spotted Vase" -- oil on canvas 24x24" -- Margie Guyot

After painting the last still life, which was predominantly in blue tones, I felt chilled to the bone.  I had to do something in fiery red to warm up! 

The blue spotted vase was a garage sale find.  Last fall I stopped at a garage sale in Elk Rapids and there it was, waiting for me.  Only $4 -- such a bargain!

The wild-patterned silk scarf is one I've had for a number of years.  Somehow it's survived the move from Farmington Hills to my studio in northern Michigan.  The mice haven't discovered it yet, thank goodness!  Who knows how many years old it is.  I just love it for the interesting design!

In the back, on the right, is a hand-blown glass pitcher that I'd found at a shop in Pontiac.  In reality, there's a huge crack running across, but I just can't bear to part with it. 

If you've followed my paintings, you'll recognize the striped glasses.  I love striped glasses and have them in several colors.  They just fascinate me.  And don't think that because I've painted them a number of times that they're easy to paint!  They're like Sirens -- irresistable!  One trick I've discovered is to paint the background first, using Liquin, and once it's dry, paint the back side of the glass.  Let it dry, then finish up by painting the front side.  The stripes are so tricky, usually I have to do some wiping-out.  And if the under layer is dry, then wiping-out is so much easier!

I used the same technique for painting the blue vase: painting the backside first, letting it dry, then finishing up on the front side.  Challenging, yes, but it's so much more interesting than washing floors!

Striped Cat Teapot on Batik Shawl

"Striped Cat Teapot on Batik Shawl" -- oil on canvas 18x18" -- Margie Guyot

 

Here it is, dead of winter in Northern Michigan, and the temperature's in the teens.  So why not paint a "springy" type painting with daffodils (OK, so they're silk!) and a bright batik sarong?  I love this teapot (I'd used it in a recent painting already) and the whole thing kind of brightened things up around here this week.  



Granny Smiths on an Orange Morning Glory Cloth

"Granny Smiths on an Orange Morning Glory Cloth" -- oil on canvas 22x28" -- Margie Guyot

 

Everybody thinks of Granny Smith apples as being pure green.  Well, not always!  I recently found a bag of locally-grown ones, produced by Friske's Orchards, that had a surprising amount of red tones.  I knew I'd have to use them in a painting.  Notice the bruise on the apple on the far left? 

 

The vintage tablecloth is rather unusual, too.  I'd been rifling through a big stack of tablecloths at an antique show in Petoskey when I spied it.  All the others were the usual, predictable combinations of red and blue -- and they all looked alike.  I just loved the orange tones!

 

I always paint under natural light, setting up my still life compositions on a big table next to the windows on the south side of my studio.  Some artists love the constant, cool light of a north window, but I love the intensity of the south light, with its strong sunlight and shadow patterns.  Which you don't really see here this time.  Alas, northern Michigan skies are overcast pretty much all the time in winter!  Some days I had to quit painting at 3 PM, it was so dark I couldn't see the colors properly.

 

Apples are so much fun to paint!  So reflective!  And I love the vintage tablecloths.  The folds and wrinkles are challenging, which I enjoy.  Why waste time painting stuff that's too easy?       

"Pink Cyclamen on Striped Horse Blanket"

"Pink Cyclamen on Striped Horse Blanket" -- oil on canvas 24x24" -- Margie Guyot

It's surprising how long I've managed to keep this pink cyclamen alive!  It's been what -- 6 weeks? -- since I bought it on sale at Pine Hill Nursery. Every once in a while I'll come into the studio to find it horribly wilted, flowers all laying down.  I'll give it some water and within hours, it looks bright and perky again.  So I just had to use it in another painting before it finally croaks.

My painter friend, Al Maciag, gave me some horse blankets he'd picked up in a garage sale.  I liked this one because of the pink stripes.  But I quickly realized how difficult this painting would be!  I always love to toss the fabric down onto the work table and let the folds fall naturally.  Just try painting stripes on folds!  It got to be pretty challenging.

Painting lots of leaves is not my favorite thing to do, but there's not much else to do up here in the far north, in winter.  No TV reception, gardening season is over, so it becomes a choice of "do I want to clean house" or paint. 

Apples on a Calla Lily Cloth

"Apples on a Calla Lily Cloth" -- oil on canvas 24x24" -- Margie Guyot

 

Having just finished another painting with this vintage tablecloth, I had a hankering to yet another one.  But what to pair with it?  I'd found this wonderful glass bowl a couple months ago at a resale shop, but what to put in it?  I live in the hinterlands.  It's not just a 10 minute drive to a grocery store or flower shop.  I kind of wanted to find something -- some kind of flower or fruit that would jive with the colors.

 

Then I found these honeycrisp apples in my fridge.  OK, it's a bit of a stretch, but they do have slightly pinkish tones, here and there.    Well, sort of!  Considering the colors of the tablecloth, maybe there isn't much in nature than would match all that well.

 

We always read about painters and their struggles.  Up here, it's always a struggle to try to paint a still life with a strong sense of "sunlight and shadow".  Cold air flowing over relatively warm Lake Michigan results in mostly cloudy days and snow flurries.  A gimpse of sun is a surprise.  People will actually call each other up on the phone, saying, "Wow -- would ya look at that sun!"  

 

Sometimes it's almost sad to finish a painting.  They're just so addictive!  SO much more fun than washing floors!  It's like doing a puzzle where you have to make all the pieces.  You can forget politics and religion.  Just zone out in your own little world.  For me, painting is a teeter-totter game between panic and control.  If you can control your panic (Yikes! How do I paint THAT?) and take your time (and wipe out what's not working), you can come up with a pretty good painting.  Oh, in case you're wondering, I buy Viva paper towels by the case.
 



"Pink Cyclamen"

"Pink Cyclamen" -- oil on canvas 24x24" -- Margie Guyot

 

Weeks ago I'd bought this beautiful plant at Pine Hill Nursery, meaning to use it in a still life painting.  And I was super-busy, what with finishing up planting bulbs, putting away lawn furniture, etc.  Every time I'd go into my studio, I'd look at this plant and wonder how I'd set up a still life.  Cyclamen are kind of touchy plants.  It was loaded with buds, but it could die at any time. 

 

Finally a few days ago I pulled out a favorite vintage cloth, threw it onto the table and set the plant down.  Aha!  And the more wrinkled the cloth, the better! 

 

The sun was only out for a couple days, so I really tried to make note of how it looked.  And all those doggone leaves!  Oy vey!  Thought I'd go mad.  Really, making a successful painting requires learning how to control one's panic.  Just keep calm and plug away.  If something doesn't look right, wipe it out and try again.  I do go through a lot of Viva paper towels, by the way. 

 

I think it's a shame that they just don't make tablecloths the way they used to, don't you?

 

 

Guyer Creek #2

For the next painting of the day, I gathered up my painting gear and thrashed through the underbrush to a new spot along the creek.  My faithful companion, Picasso, sat on this log, watching me the whole time I painted. 

 

"Guyer Creek #2" -- plein air field study -- oil on birch panel 8x10" -- Margie Guyot

 

Here the creek is a smidgen wider.  With the wild tangle of grasses and fallen branches, it was the pale blueness of the water and the reflections that caught my eye.  It's really hard to do a decent painting of this kind of scene.  I've tried so many times to capture it over the years.  Seems like I'm improving on it, but I know it'll take many more painting attempts before I feel I've gotten it "right".

 

Guyer Creek #1

Guyer Creek setup #1

 

It was a balmy week, with high temperatures nearly 60 degrees.  We were all doing cartwheels for joy.  Yes, it was also deer season.  I know a woman who won't walk down to her mailbox during deer season!  But I wrapped a fluorescent yellow safety vest around and walked out into the cedar swamp in back of my studio building.  It's all my property back there and there shouldn't be any hunters back there anyway. 

 

Guyer Creek is a very shallow creek (usually) that empties into Lake Michigan.  I feel very fortunate to have it running through my property.  The land between it and my studio frequently floods and is nearly always mushy.  In the summer I don't go back there, as the mosquitoes are relentless.

 

"Guyer Creek #1" -- plein air field study -- oil on birch panel 8x10 -- Margie Guyot

 





It's kind of hard to come up with a halfway decent painting of this creek -- it's just a wild tangle of "stuff"!  What I loved was the water reflection.  And after the screaming greens of summer, it was a nice change to have the subtle mauves and golds. 

Deer Field #2

Setup for "Deer Field #2" -- plein air field study

"Deer Field #2" -- plein air field study -- oil on birch panel 8x10" -- Margie Guyot

 

All I had to do for this one was turn my field easel a little -- and there was a whole, new view.  It's just a simple field, but it's beautiful in all directions.  That's a basketbush in the foreground.  They're named for their basket-like shapes.  I believe they're a type of juniper.  In the back are two white cedars, another very familiar tree in this area.  Past that is a large cedar/aspen swamp.  It's almost impenetratable.  And past that is Lake Michigan, whose waves you can hear if the wind is right.

 

It was late afternoon when I painted this and the clouds were rolling in.  No sharp sunlight/shadow patterns today.  After having done a series of studio still lifes, it felt very good to get outside and paint!

The Deer Field

 

My setup for painting "The Deer Field #1"

 

"The Deer Field #1" -- plein air field study -- oil on birch panel 8x10" -- Margie Guyot

 

Here it was, early November, and we were having a week with "balmy" temperatures!  The sun was "sorta-kinda" out, which cheered everybody considerably.  After a series of studio paintings, I was in the mood to get out and do some plein air landscapes.  But I didn't want to drive for miles.  This field is directly west of my driveway.  I've always loved it but hadn't painted it.  There is a deer path that runs along this basketbush (in the foreground). 

 



When I painted this, the clouds were moving in and there were no more strong sunlight/shadow shapes.  But that's OK, too.  I always love the soft colors of late fall.  There is a mixture of meadow grasses, mosses and bracken in this sandy field.  Lake Michigan is about 1/2 mile due west.  If the wind is right, you can hear the waves crashing on the shore.

Two more pumpkins

"Polka Dot" -- oil on canvas 12x12" -- Margie Guyot

"Blue Satin" -- oil on canvas 12x12" -- Margie Guyot

 



These are some of the amazing pumpkins I found at a roadside stand in Traverse City.  It's at an old gas station and every fall it's packed with pumpkins, gourds, apples and cider.  I think pumpkins are just so much fun to paint!  When I was a kid, all they had were orange ones.  My dad would drive us kids from stand to stand, searching for "the perfect pumpkin".  And now there are such cool varieties!

 

I find it hard to resist painting them every fall.  Last year I did quite a few; this year I painted just a couple.  My time was eaten up by planting 1500 English bluebell bulbs, 80 parrot tulips, 20 oriental lilies and an assortment of shrubs.  I did them all in 3 weeks.  You just never know when the weather will turn foul. 

Green Brandywine

"Green Brandywine" -- oil on canvas 12x12" -- Margie Guyot

 

Once again I'm running way behind on my posts.  I painted this on October 31st, after a quick trip to my "home away from home", Pine Hill Nursery.  I'd bought a few plants on sale and saw this green brandywine tomato sitting on a stone wall.  Knowing how much I enjoy painting things like this, they gave it to me. 

 

Already it was beginning to rot.  See the black area on the lower left?  The new plants had to wait while I painted this.  I loved the way the shiny green tomato reflected the reds of the cloth!  

Northern Lights!

"Northern Lights -- Rex Beach" -- oil on birch panel 8x10" -- Margie Guyot

 

This morning I happened to wake up at 4 AM.  Glancing out the north-facing window, something struck me as very unusual: it was way too bright for that hour of the morning. It was a guess, but I figured it just had to be the northern lights.  I'd never seen them before.  Yes, it was ungodly early, but what the heck -- I threw on my robe and slippers and drove my car down to Rex Beach, about 3 miles away. 

 

I dared parking right on the sand and got out.  There they were!!!  All across the northern sky, shimmering and pulsating!  Unlike many of the popular photos, they appeared fairly colorless.  But still, I was so excited I could have done cartwheels!  I wrapped my excitement in 2 old afghans from the back of the car.  It was kind of chilly out on the beach.

 

It was surprising.  The sky wasn't pitch black.  I don't know if you could even call it "black", but the darkest parts were the distant line of trees and the line of shrubs and grass on the beach.  The sky was almost a medium tone.  In the distance were low-ling clouds.  And the lights themselves were not a brilliant light, but more of a soft, blurry non-color.  I stared at these things, trying to make myself remember.  A shooting star flew by.

 

No camera.  No paintbox.  Alas!  But I did grab my mileage log book and do a quick pen sketch.  Later in the morning - when it became light enough to see -- I did an oil painting of the scene, referring to my sketch.  

Here's my reference sketch.  Solar flares are predicted to continue for the next year or so, so I hope to get to make more observations -- and paintings.

Cat Teapots

"Cat Teapots" -- oil on canvas 24x24" -- Margie Guyot



 

Believe me, it'll be a loooong time before I ever paint this tablecloth again!  Thought my eyeballs were going to fall out!  I had to take frequent breaks, hoping the Good Fairy would paint it in for me.  Alas, no such luck.  But the black and white color scheme tied in so well with the two cat teapots, I just had to use it.  Do you notice the blue and pink cast tones from the flower vase and the pink glass bowl?  I love looking for stuff like that when I set up an arrangement.  Things like that make a painting come alive.

The black cat teapot I bought about 30 years ago and somehow it's survived.  I used to keep it on my stovetop and whenever the little neighbor boy came in, he kept a good distance.  He said the eyes frightened him.  The striped teapot I picked up in a garage sale in Bay Harbor this summer.  That was probably what inspired this painting.  Painting the reflections on these was so much fun!

If you've followed my blog posts for a while, the pink glass bowl may be familiar.  I'm fascinated by it and have used it in several paintings.  It's really difficult to draw and paint!  Lots of distortions and reflections to try to catch.  Each time I paint it, it looks a little better.  Monet had his haystacks, so I guess you could say I've got my pink glass bowl.

My ascendant (astrologically-speaking) is Cancer, the Crab.  We Cancers LOVE bags and boxes.  It's been said that if you give us a wrapped present, chances are we'll love the wrappings far more than the actual present itself!  I think that's true.  I love this polka-dot bag!  It came from a fancy dress shop in Petoskey, Talula Boutique.  How could I throw such a marvelous bag away?  I've been saving it (and others) for use in still lifes.  And that hot pink tissue!  I just love stuff like this!

It's been a while since I've used shoes in a still life setup, but this seemed to call for some.  These beauties were a Goodwill find.  Not my size, but hey -- the color just made me feel like doing cartwheels across the store!  I love painting shoes.  Such interesting shapes, colors and reflections!

To echo the hot pink tissue, I plucked a few geranium blooms from the plants on the studio windowsill.  Some of my plants are 6 years old (or more).  They seem to do much better inside the studio during the winter than they do out on the patio all summer.  Go figure. 

I'll be having to take a brief break from painting.  1500 English bluebell bulbs just arrived the other day, so it'll be one mad rush to plant them all before the ground freezes.  Stay tuned!

Corn and Tomatoes

"Corn and Tomatoes" -- oil on canvas 36x36" -- Margie Guyot

 

A few weeks ago I revisited a favorite, funky gift shop at Stonehedge Gardens, near Charlevoix.  They always have such cool stuff!  This metal basket was so interesting-looking, I had to get it.  And that's a "new" vintage tablecloth.  Then it was a short trek down to Eastport Market, where I snagged a dozen ears of sweet corn.  Not one to waste resources, I carefully bagged the corn at the end of each painting session and returned it to the fridge.  And the tomatoes are from the neighbor women's garden.  They were monsters (the tomatoes, not the women) that weighed 2 pounds apiece!  I like the Brandywines.  Not only do they taste good, but they have such interesting coloration.

 

As a final touch I decided to add a few sprigs of goldenrod and some sunflowers.  They're a new kind of sunflower variety that is kind of like a black-eyed susan.  Somehow they managed to survive the deer this year.  The first blossom I painted looked awful.  I'd painted it facing straight at the viewer.  It stuck out like a sore thumb!  So amateurish!  I wiped it all out (and what a mess that was!) and re-did it in a more natural pose.  I was so happy to finally finish this one, I had to celebrate by hauling more buckets of rocks.  But that's another story....

Apples, apples, apples!

"Braeburn #2 -- oil on canvas 6x6" -- Margie Guyot

"Zestar #1" -- oil on canvas 6x6" -- Margie Guyot

 

In my spare moments (ha ha) I've been painting all kinds of apples.  So far I've painted about 55 apples.  Here are just a few of the ones I've done.  Painting this many apples is good for "keeping in practice".  I've found that my skills of observation have sharpened over this past year.  And OK -- I admit it: I am starting to grow weary of painting apples!  

Two Nocturnes

"Full Moon over Grand Traverse Bay" -- plein air field study -- oil on birch panel 10x8" -- Margie

Guyot

"Lights over Northport" -- plien air field study -- oil on birch panel 8x10" -- Margie Guyot

My plein air setup on Rex Beach

At the beginning of September we had a full moon.  Since I'm an early-riser by nature, it was no trouble at all to drive down to Rex Beach and paint @ 5AM.  I waited until that hour so the moon would be in a better position over the lake.  OK, I admit it: I pre-mixed a dark and a medium tone in the studio, where I could see what I was doing.  For the most part, I was able to paint solely by the light of the full moon.  Once in a while I had to turn on the flashlight.  The second painting happened about 5:45 AM, when things were starting to lighten up a little.  The sun still hadn't risen and everything was a deep gray.