I’ve been working on this project since May, but the painting didn’t really start until August. I’ll bet over a million brush strokes! I’m close to finishing painting 24 images for the big revamping of the Washington State Park’s visitor center at Mt St Helens National Monument. I’m told it’s one of the biggest interpretive projects ever for Washington State Parks.
I’ve already made some art for this fantastic park before, but that was a series of outside wayside panels for the US Forest Service placed around the mountain, plus a big painting that we eventually made into a puzzle. This current effort is at Silver Lake on the park’s west side, a big visitor center built right after the eruption in 1980. I’m working with EDX in Seattle who did the designs and asked me to do the art. Sure glad they did – it’s been interesting.
For this post, I’ll focus on just the wetlands tabletop, 17 feet long and 4 feet wide, it’s one of the most complex visitor center exhibits I’ve painted. Other parts of the project will be posted soon.
I have few finished photos of this, but I did get the tabletop main painting scanned – a whopping 4.5 gigabits of data that will be printed on aluminum (I think).
Drawing and the beginnings of the painted art.Final painting for the tabletop, about 17′ wide.Part of the left side of the tabletop.
The tabletop has all sorts of lift lids showing hidden critters beneath them. There are spinners that show the eruption, another with the evolution of Silver Lake. It’s a very busy thing and I’m hoping kids will love it.
On my next post, I’ll get into the smaller pieces of art, then the second wall (an entirely different theme and painting 14′ long).
Nancy on the boardwalk at Silver Lake. Enough wood here to build several houses, and it’s in good shape – goes on for half a mile. The volcano is straight ahead but still 25m away.
In case you don’t remember what the mountain looks like, here’s a puzzle we did some years ago for it.
“Getting out there”, the mentally and physically healing immersion into wild nature is nothing new. Okay, I understand what it does for the soul, not to mention an aging body, but it cannot be understated. We’ve gotten to know the some quickie lowland Olympic hikes and this post is about an easy early-summer trail. A couple of years ago I painted this acrylic of the river beside that trail, its namesake. It shows the river crashing along during the early spring snowmelt. The photo below was taken close to the same place, a month and some years later, shot just a two days ago.
Some hikers passed us, going at a jog, all careful of the fact we were socially distancing. Everyone was passing like they should, like they were smart. All had snowshoes, gear for alpine efforts – that told me they were probably returning from Mt Constance a few miles west and vastly up. Decades ago, I, too, would have been running down the trail and aiming for a hamburger. Now? Not so much in a hurry. For our part, it’s not the act of getting there and back, although we did that, but rather appreciating nature on every step. We were already there, after all, every step of the way. Smelling for forest, feeling the rising humidity from the river, closely looking at details, hearing and feeling our surroundings is now what it’s all about.
In my later years, I’ve come to truly worship those details, the way a branch has become intertwined with moss, a columbine flower presenting itself to a pollinator. Taking an extra few minutes for some field sketching makes me intently focus even sharper, to see the mountain rising up ahead, how the glaciers carved this valley and where the trees seem to grow best – or the fire scars on hillsides where ancient burns came down the valley.
Nancy photographing some trail-side columbine.
On a sunny south-facing slope, I spotted some California hazel, a soft-leaved shrub I remember from my years of trails in the Trinity Alps and High Sierra. Hazel and cascara, another southern shrub were both here, remnants of warmer climates now past. It takes a lifetime of doing this stuff to quickly grasp these details, and it’s what I tend to focus on these days, the details. I’m not a botanist, I didn’t even take biology in school (how’d THAT happen?), but I love these mountains, any mountains, and want to understand how they work, who the characters are, why they’re here.
The physical world is still in charge, no matter what we think! I lost a good friend this past week, Ron Mastrogiuseppe, a former scientist and naturalist for the National Park Service. Ron was the first naturalist for Redwood National Park and over the years he taught me an appreciation for nature you don’t find in books. Sure, books are important to get you the basics, but in field observation you get the actually interaction of an ecosystem, right before your eyes. Ron was considered to be somewhat eccentric, but I’d call it more a heightened level of observation and deep believe in science. He is listed as discoverer of a tree species in the Sierra, along with his wife, Joy. Ron also found proof of the date Mount Mazama erupted, when Crater Lake was formed and reset our known history of that amazing lake. One doesn’t do that just reading books or watching TV, but actually going there in person. Ron founded Crater Lake Institute and commissioned many pieces of art from me. He helped me appreciate the details, and maybe more importantly, how the details really matter.
Science, it drives passion and love for things far beyond just walking past a shrub or two. Once I understood that, I was changed forever.
Upstream on the Dose – with the Olympics just beginning.
Thanks for reading this week. You can sign up for emails for these posts on my website at larryeifert.com, down the right side of the home page.
Down through the ’33’, a piece of forest that’s like a park. The name came from how much it cost.
Nancy and I are truly fortunate to have our own bit of nature here that’s big enough to actually camp in. Through the years, we’ve added to it, strategically bought chunks here and there, and now it’s a very tasty place to walk. So, since we’re supposed to stay home, how about a little backpack with Nancy as the supporting photographer and me as painter!
This patch of trilliums come up each spring, getting bigger each time and is at the start of a little loop that is really a complex bunch of deer trails. I have some new equipment, so, out we went with that new Six Moon Designs pack on to try out their new tent, a Lunar Duo. If I can’t do it up a mountain somewhere, I can try it out here.
Along the way, I tried to get a couple of small paintings going, just jestures of how it felt here on a warm spring day in a forest I know better than any. This huge big-leaf maple is a favorite of mine, a giant sprawling mass of life that changes each year as branches fall off in winter storms. A couple of years ago, a fawn was born here.
A little way down the deer trail this little scene unfolds. I made the trail a bit wider in the painting, hopefully the deer won’t notice.
My new Lunar Duo tent from 6 Moon Designs – a perfect tent for an old guy.
Here’s a little tent review for the Lunar Duo, a perfect ultralight two-person tent:
This tent is already a hit with me. Less than half the weight of my old standby, yet much bigger in size. For decades I’ve carried a free-standing tent, one with enough complicated poles that you wouldn’t want to put it together in the dark. The Lunar Duo comes in at 2.5lbs and uses one carbon fiber pole and my hiking stick, that’s it. (my old tent was about 6lbs. and had about 30 little poles all stuck together with bungies)
I’ve read this one takes some fiddling and adjusting to put it up, and requires ground soft enough for the titanium stakes, but that’s the same as the other one – I never camp on rocks and still had to connect it to the ground. With a floating floor, this was up in minutes and I was set for the night. The floating floor means it just floats around under you like a little water tight boat under a waterproof cover.
Thanks for reading this week. Stay well out there so you can join me in the next addition of this little journey. Art and nature, they go together well, even if you’re still at home.
All photos by Nancy Cherry Eifert using the old Nikon backpacking camera without post processing.
Yesterday we were coming home to Port Townsend on our little ferry. Parked on the car deck and walked up to confront one of my paintings in jigsaw puzzle form right on the table in front of us. Perfect, said Nancy and proceeded to put the thing together. I mostly watched a gloriously calm sunset after a big blow in the morning that shut the boat down, but still added a few pieces to the effort. This is a painting I did for Mount Rainier National Park years ago and is still installed there, the main attraction to the Ohanapecosh Visitor Center. It’s also still a puzzle – and who knows how many of these things are floating around the world. Thousands.
Now, I know it’s a bit of a stretch to say this is actually ‘public art’, but bear with me. I first figured out how to put my better National Park art on puzzles in the 1990’s, first with a company from Germany, then we did it ourselves through a great group called Impact Photographics. It takes a pile of doubt or at least a credit score. Various others have made puzzles, too, and I’m guessing we’ve published over 80 different images. Currently, Nautilus Puzzles from California is actually making them out of real laser-cut wood that cost as much as some of my early paintings did!
These days, we’re not as aggressive with this, but still supply them to parks and stores. We once found one in Hawaii at the Pahoa Farmer’s Market under a pile of used clothes and books.
I’m not here to advertise buying puzzles, but instead to just say that this sure has been a wide and complex life. I have painting projects going on right now about restoring Northwest salmon, a bison mural in South Dakota, a Florida project involving dolphins and octopus, nesting terns and sharks. I’m proud to say I’m sponsored by a great backpacking equipment company called Six Moon Designs that help get me out there in comfort, and by a truly wonderful partner. Nancy keeps it all running behind the scenes as well as on the road – or on the ferry.
I guess what this post is all about is for me to just say thanks to everyone for all of this. It takes an amazing number of consistently interested people to keep our little lifestyle going for all these decades. I wish I could give back, but with the next paintings in progress, maybe I am.
A new painting from Nancy, a tasty study of a chickadee and blueberries after an early frost. We have both the bird and berries right here in our meadow (along with an occasional frost), and the copper leaves this time of year make a nice painting. These little birds don’t eat the berries, instead, they hop around gleaning the insects and spiders that live among them.
This is new: We’re expanding the blog to also show Nancy’s paintings and photographs, as well as some other things going on here. Over the years, I’ve posted upwards of 500 of these pages. My new paintings will still be here as usual. Nancy’s painting style is reminiscent of mine, probably because we share a studio and she paints on some of my big paintings from time to time. Or, maybe it’s the other way around, I paint like Nancy. While she has her own website at NancyCherryEifert.com, this blog has a nice readership – so I thought it would be meaningful to share what we do. This chickadee seems a good start. we both hope you like it.
Here’s the framed painting, photographed not 50 feet from the blueberry model it was painted from. These mountain blueberry leaves go from green to a pale yellow in fall, then immediately turn these bronze colors in a real show of color
This painting is available for sale. It’s framed like it shows here and the outside measurements are about 12″ x 15″. The acrylic painting is on board and is 6″x 9″. It’s matted and framed under glass. Framed just as it looks here, it’s $175 plus some Priority Mail shipping. Just let us know if you’re interested by emailing us at either nancy@nancycherryeifert.com, or larry@larryeifert.com.
This is another painting I did for Malheur National Wildlife Refuge in eastern Oregon – remember the hostile take-over by the Bundy Clan? This was that place!
I was given some nice leeway on these efforts, so I could add some mental candy, a soft sunset coming to mind here. They were fun paintings to do, because I just plan likw painting wildlife. Below is a detailed version of a section.
It can get very crowded at Malheur, as you can see below. This is one of Nancy’s photos, an amazing mass of wildlife that proves, yes, you still CAN see this sort of thing in America, but only if we pay taxes to keep it this way. Want to see this? Go to Malheur in March or April, get a room in the one-and-only decent motel – and go geese watching. You won’t forget it easily. By the way, these birds are ALL talking while they’re doing this!
Below is the reference painting I worked from, certainly not copying it, but just a ‘feeling’ reference. I did this one for The Nature Conservancy a couple of years ago at the Carson River Project in Nevada. I always liked the softness of this landscape, backed up against the High Sierra. Lake Tahoe is just over the ridge. I think the painting holds together nicely.
And below is the original refined sketch, after the rough concept drawing. This is the step before painting begins, and while it’s certainly not like the final, it comes close enough to call it good at this stage.
I’m going to be expanding this blog in the next few weeks, adding more art from my partner in crime, Nancy Cherry Eifert, and essays on hiking and seeking wilderness. This blog seems to be growing into something bigger than just art and it’s evolving. So I should too.
