Easy to understand my motivation for THIS painting. It’s spring, nature’s renewal, Two robins getting mud in along our pond’s edge so I suspect a nest – and the Indian plum has its early leaves on. I can’t locate the nest, but no big deal.
It’s a common method for me, that of seeing a story happening in nature, then making a painting to tell that story. In this one, I tried to make the robins feel like newly weds, unsure of what to do, unsure of how all this happens. Translating it into a believable painting takes some thought. Even the soft color values might translate into patience.
Below, this rough concept drawing below shows how I went about this. No details to speak of in the drawing, just blocky shapes around the page. There’s more direction here than might meet with understanding – like how the center of interest hits the perfect spot where the top of the nest will be, where those brilliant robin’s-egg blue eggs are. Or the two large triangular areas of nothingness, pulling the viewer’s eyes to that nest area.
This is an original oil painting on stretched linen canvas, varnished and ready to hang. The canvas is 18″x24″ and the 2 1/2″ silver museum frame goes with it, making the outside dimensions 23″ x 29″. As usual for this size, I’m offering it for $1300 plus shipping costs which will probably be standard UPS rates. I have a double box ready to go. If you’re interested in learning more, please email me at larry@larryeifert.com.
Thanks for reading this week. You can sign up for emails for these posts on my website at larryeifert.com.
A quick look on the left shows one of the other paintings, Royal Lake Trail, sitting in my tool area.
These are my most recent small oil studies, plus a few still available, all painted in the past couple of months. Some have been shown here before, some not. They’re all on canvas board and varnished. Painting sizes are all the same, 5″x7″. The outside frames measure 7″x9″. They are all framed as you see them here.
Downy Woodpecker
The idea process here was a tiny bird on a big tree. These little woodpeckers, only 6″ long weigh less than an ounce. They make great painterly subjects because the darker whites seem to change a bit with the seasons. This one was on the big Douglas-fir right outside our studio porch. Those are little wisps of old-man’s beard lichen in the upper corner.
Black-tailed Deer in Rosehips
Lots of Columbian black-tailed deer here. Walking on a local trail in Port Townsend, I became sort of lost in the masses of rose hips on the Nootka roses I was passing. Amazing colors this time of year (early spring), and in places the branches are starting to turn purplish red with spring flush of juice. When I got back in the studio I started playing around with some samples I broke off to take. She was in the thicket, too.
Red Squirrel
I’m greeted each morning by several of these little feisty squirrels as they await me to toss some sunflower seeds on the big tray feeder. Brazen little creatures, they’re not so easy to paint. In summer, they seem a bit more brown, winter coat is more gray – an adaptation to owl safety, maybe.
Royal Basin Trail above the Lake
Lots going on in this little painting, maybe because I didn’t want to leave the place lodged in my mind. This is a trail I’ve been on many times! It takes the hiker up past Royal Lake and into a truly sensational alpine area. Surrounded by some of the tallest peaks in the Olympic Mountains, I have wandered here wishing I’d just become a marmot so I wouldn’t have to leave. I tend to paint these trail images from memory, often in winter when I can’t get there physically.
House Finch
House finches have this odd way of looking down their beaks, as if they’re twisting sideways to see better. It’s almost like they’re judging me. But just try to paint one doing this. Not sure I got it correct, but I liked the colors a lot. That’s Carmine Lake paint, by the way, a color not to be forgotten.
When it fell, this was probably the biggest alder we have have here – and it was already dead when it collapsed of rot and time. I was looking at it not long ago and noticed how nicely the log was providing nest holes and insects for the birds – and so I painted this little story-painting about it. The chickadee really was there, bouncing around the new plants growing on the log’s top.
These are all priced like the others at $95 each, framed. Shipping will be USPS and will add a bit more, but the cost of shipping is fairly low. Email me if you’re interested in knowing more. larryeifert@gmail.com
You might have missed the other posts of these little oils, but I’ve been doing these to test different mixes of medium, linseed oil, thinner and driers like cobalt and Liquin. I’m still not ‘there’ yet with it, but making these small paintings has been very fun for me – and having painted full-time for so many decades now, I find it amazing it can still feel fresh. So, I’m continuing on with new efforts.
Green Rock is an oil on canvas painting, now available. The canvas is 30″ x 40″ on stretched canvas. It is big enough I thought I’d sell it without the frame, so someone could buy it unstretched, rolled in a tube with the stretcher bars ready to go. We can talk about it.
Below is the painting in a frame, just so you can see what it looks like. I don’t have this frame at the moment, but go ahead and ask.
Where is this place?
The painting is, of course, about salmon (not the green rock). But in these big canvases I find great enjoyment in hiding stuff and telling stories – so how many salmon can YOU find?
I’ve seen many salmon along the Sol Duc River, mostly in Olympic National Park. I even have outdoor exhibit panels there telling the Sol Duc Coho salmon’s story. It’s a special place for both Nancy and me, a place many paintings have been hatched (to use a salmon word). In fact, counting up how many paintings Olympic National Park owns of mine of the Sol Duc Valley: 17! (including one with Nancy in it) Most of them are in a vault at the main visitor center in Port Angeles, so even I can’t see them. All were used for exhibits and reproduced.
If you’d like to find out more about this painting, or if it’s still available, write me at larryeifert@gmail.com.
This is a link to our new Esty store online with some of the available originals.
Royal Lake is an oil on canvas painting, now available. The canvas is 18″ x 24″, with the silver frame as you see it making it approximately 23″ x 29″. It’s now available. I’m offering it with the frame.
Where is this place?
Royal Basin is in the upper Dungeness River Valley, and Royal Lake is exactly 25 air miles from where I write this in my studio – but it will take you a long day to get there. The lake is surrounded by some of the highest peaks in the Olympic Mountains, seven of them and maybe more. I’ve been there to enjoy it many times. What makes this different is that just above the lake the valley broadens out into a plateau where three glaciers once lived. With little cirque lakes, colorful heather meadows and meandering trails – all of it is above treeline. Sit on the rocks above a tarn there and one can hear the Mt Deception glacier towering above you, as it breaks off chunks of ice and rocks, cascading it all into the valley floor below. It’s a place of great beauty. But below, two meadows down, Royal Lake is another, softer world.
This painting is $1300 with the silver frame you see here. It’s not a cheapy, but a quality gallery frame. Shipping is extra but boxing is included. Outside framed measurements are about 23″ x 29″. It was painted with oil on canvas and varnished. If you’re interested, or want it without the frame for a lower price, or just want to communicate, write me at larryeifert@gmail.com
Above is the back of the frame showing the canvas – and a small part of my messy studio. As someone once said “a clean studio is the sign of a unclean mind!” And possibly the reverse might be true as well.
Below: here I am, solo hiking in those same meadows.
This is a link to our new Esty store online with some of the available originals.
These are my most recent oil studies, all painted in the past couple of weeks. They’re on canvas board and varnished. Painting sizes are all the same, 5″x7″. The outside frames measure 7″x9″. They are all framed as you see them here.
Chickadee in the Rose Hips framed Sorry, this is sold.
Chestnut-backed Chickadee in the Nootka Rose Hips Sold
Walking on a local trail here in Port Townsend, I became sort of lost in the masses of rose hips on the Nootka roses I was passing. Amazing colors this time of year, and in places the branches are starting to turn purplish red with spring flush of juice showing spring is close! When I got back in the studio I started playing around with some samples I broke off. Two of these paintings came from that.
Bewicks Wren on the Lichen Branch framed
Bewick’s Wren on the Lichen Branch
The Trail Past Grand Lake framed
This is a trail I’ve been on many times! It leads the hiker up past Royal Lake and into an alpine zone truly sensational to see. Surrounded by some of the tallest peaks in the Olympic Mountains, I have wandered here wishing I’d just become a marmot so I wouldn’t have to leave. I tend to paint these trail images from memory, usually in winter when I can’t get there physically.
The Trail Past Royal Lake, Olympic National Park (just 24 miles from my studio).
Downy Woodpecker on Douglas-fir framed
These little woodpeckers, only 6″ long and less than an ounce in weight are different here than in the Eastern forests. They’re darker, less pure white, but it varies. They make great painterly subjects because the darker whites seem to change a bit with the seasons. This one was on the Douglas-fir right outside our studio porch. Those are little wisps of old-man’s beard lichen in the upper corner.
Downy Woodpecker on Douglas-fir
Black-tailed Deer behind the Winter Rose Hips framed
Black-tailed Deer behind the Rose Hips
These are priced like the others at $95 each, framed. Shipping will be USPS and will add a bit more, but the cost of shipping is fairly low. Email me if you’re interested in knowing more. larryeifert@gmail.com
You might have missed the other posts of these little oils, but I’ve been doing these to test different mixes of medium, linseed oil, thinner and dries like cobalt and Liquin. I’m still not ‘there’ yet with it, but making these have been very fun for me – and painting for so many decades now, I find it amazing this can still feel fresh and alive to see them appear on the canvas.
American Dipper Flying Home is an original oil painting – not even varnished yet. It tells the story of a little flying dipper flying into a big waterfall, high in the Olympic Mountains of Washington.
This is an 18″ x 24″ oil on canvas, and it is now available. The frame in the photo comes with it but we have other choices – I just really like how the frame colors fit with this painting. Outside measurements are about 24″ x 30″. We can ship this at cost, double-boxed and ready to hang. Email me at larryeifert@gmail.com if you’re interested in more information. The framed price is $1300.
For those who don’t know about these interesting little birds – dippers, here’s a short essay about them. Also known as Water Ousels (East Coast), they make their living completely dependent on cold, clear mountain streams. They lives are entirely connected to these streams and they don’t migrate – even in winter. They even nest behind waterfalls in mossy wet pockets they build.
Dippers were John Muir’s favorite bird, and maybe mine, too. (their name is because they tend to bob up and down as they stand on rocks) The young birds are wet from birth from the constant cold spray of snowmelt water. The parents teach them the routine by diving in, then ‘walking’ underwater, kicking over stones searching for insects and larva. They use their wings outstretched to hold them down in the current. Dippers never leave their streams, and if a tight river bend means a brief flying detour over land, they, instead, fly the long way around the curve to stay connected to their water-home. It’s the very definition of wilderness I’ve always been drawn to and love to paint.
Below is my photo of Royal Falls, one of the sources of the Dungeness River and a major reference for this painting. Royal Falls is high in Olympic National Park, but only about 25 air-miles from where I write this in my studio. The Dungeness is one of the steepest watersheds in the country, dropping over 7000 feet in just 28 miles.
A dipping American Dipper at Tunnel Creek, Olympic National Forest.
There’s a brief time during a hiking day (imagined) when the sun is almost down, the atmosphere seems overly warm and sort of glowing. I envision going down a trail and seeing a big meadow ahead. Anticipation of something that might be really meaningful.
This is an 11″ x 14″ oil on stretched canvas. The gold frame as you see it makes the outside measurements about 14″ x 17″. It’s currently available from me for $275, frame included – Yup, no gallery upcharges. Shipping would be a bit more, depending on your distance from me. If you’re interested, please email me: larryeifert@gmail.com. Please see the little essay at the bottom.
I love that experience of the good experience about to happen and have tried to get that feeling here – and in almost all my ‘trail’ paintings in the past. These mostly come to me in winter, when I can’t go actually get here, can’t enjoy it as I would in the warmer days of summer.
When I paint these landscapes, especially ‘trail’ stories, I get lost in making them – it’s like I actually really am hiking along in a real place.
Below is a corner of our studio I’ve been using for these current batch of oil paintings. French easel, glass palette, maul stick – and a great view of the forest beyond. See that little ledge below the gold frame, the one with the Atworth logo on it? About every third brush stroke whacks that right end of it on the way back down to the palette for more paint. It gets more paint than the canvas.
Thanks for reading this week. You can sign up for emails for these posts on my website at larryeifert.com.
This painting is 16″ x 20″ acrylic on canvas, and is available. Email me if you’re interested at larryeifert@gmail.com. It’s available with the nice Taos school inspired frame and I already have a shipping crate ready to go. Shipping would be extra but we usually ship UPS so it won’t be much.
This painting was inspired by a day hike up the North Fork of the Sol Duc River in nearby Olympic National Park. Not many hikers get here, as it requires a breathe-taking thigh-deep river crossing, but it’s worth every icy step. Once on the east side of the river, the trail goes for miles along the banks, from pool to pool and finally turns into a vague rambling through streamside brush. In places there are sandstone-scoured potholes, meadows beneath huge big-leaf maple groves, just a glorious Olympic ramble. This place has produced several paintings from me, all similar, all emotional light studies of this pristine river’s journey from alpine down into the main stem of the Sol Duc.
Where does this trail start and end? On Olympic National Park’s Sol Duc River Road there’s a parking area just a quarter mile upstream from Salmon Cascades. The trail heads upslope on the east side of the road, the drops to the North Fork in half a mile past the ford. It’s about eight miles upslope to an old CCC shelter, then a few more miles to Mount Appleton and Blue Lake. While the main Sol Duc trail system is mobbed in summer, almost no one makes it this pristine place, just a raven’s flight of a couple of minutes.
This painting is 16″ x 20″ acrylic on canvas, and is available. Email me if you’re interested at larryeifert@gmail.com. It’s also available with the nice Taos school inspired frame (like you see here) and I already have a shipping crate ready to go. The offering price framed as you see it here is $950 – shipping cost is extra but it will go double boxed UPS.
I posted about this painting of Glacier National Park recently, and now I’ve scanned it for the next step in becoming the back of the park map. As I was scanning and then cleaning up the file in Photoshop, I was struck with how loose and abstract my stuff gets when you zoom in on it. Brush strokes, smudges, finger prints, cat hair, my hair (what’s left of it) is all in here, stuck down forever. I think it’s a good view of my painting process, so here are some samples I screen-grabbed as I went.
This first one is the ptarmigan chicks in the center foreground. Notice the while lines around the heads to help bring that out from the background. And the vague indication of the rocks that are only a few brush strokes building from dark to light. Not detailed at all, none of it, but it still suffices to tell the story. Click on all these to see larger versions in your browser. It helps understand what I’m showing.
And here is the ram’s head on the painting’s right. In the closeup details on the second image, you can see it’s really just a gauzy overlay of white that makes for the final presentation, and you can see again that this entire animal was initially painted dark umber to begin with.
Lower left corner with the snowshoe hare and butterfly, it all works pretty well at this resolution, but blow it up so you can actually see the brush strokes and it’s pretty darned abstract.
And finally, the area around the elk, flowers and sedges, alpine landscape with the stream. It looks okay at this normal resolution.
But as I zoom in on it, the thing falls apart fairly quickly.
If I presented this in a gallery situation, would it work? Probably, because people will buy anything = witness the last presidency. But there’s not much fine detail here except some dabs and dashes of paint. What I’m trying to get across here is that big paintings are really just that, dabs and dashes. I get questions about my process and I’d have to say here that it’s all just dabbing and dashing, splashing paint on a flat surface and standing back every few minutes to see how it’s going. In the end, it’s a huge finished thing that looks okay, but every moment is just abstract art in each very tiny area – then repeat over and over.
What IS this, anyway? What an abstract or maybe even non-objective piece of art.
Thanks for reading this week. You can sign up for emails for these posts on my website at larryeifert.com.
Revision time – stay with me on this. I know this isn’t in color, but pencil drawing is almost a lost skill, and I’m still fairly good with it. Lots of people ask me how it is to work for the National Park Service. Well, it’s like a bunch of bananas, there’s good and bad, sometimes in the same bunch. So far, this project has been all good!
A few posts ago, I showed the first detailed sketch for this New Mexico painting, the one below. Now the park has made requests for changes, with plenty of ‘please’s. An entirely new sketch was called for. No complaints, all their thoughts were valid, and some things I just plain forgot to add. The top sketch was submitted this week for a second review. What’s the difference? Bigger cave, straightened the right tree, removed the left tree, cliff bigger, and most of all, an aspen – Douglas-fir grove on the left with plenty of a’a lava. That’s the lava that looks impossible to walk on, and is (see the photo below). At El Malpais National Monument, it’s mixed with lots of pahoehoe, the ropy lava that flows like water in its molten form. This place, west of Albuquerque, has 400 lava caves, so it was important to show more of that, too.Below, our guide-ranger in a mass of a’a lava. Impossible to walk on, impossible to paint! Somewhere in this mess is my phone, still sitting where it fell out of my pack and, for me, gone forever! And below a pot shard from one of the almost-invisible pueblo ruins. They wanted more of these, which is shown in the new sketch along the foreground. This piece was just sitting on the ground and is probably over 1000 years old. The hand-painted lines are far more skilled than modern pots from the same tribe that are made for tourists.
Soon, I’ll get either a go-ahead on the final art, or a request for some additional changes – not likely anything imposing. Too many pronghorn, a smaller peregrine falcon, stuff like that. I’m eager to paint this because, as usual, I’ll get a chance to relive the very tasty experience of going there this past summer.
Thanks for reading my stuff this week. Larry Eifert
