Road Trip, West to East - Cincinnati and Filming at F+W Media

Camera 3

Standing up in front of students and teaching them the fine points of painting is difficult enough.  So imagine what it'd be like if you had to lecture intelligently without students to ask you questions to help you along.  Add a bank of hot studio lights and then turn off the A/C because it makes noise, and, finally, paint at an odd angle for six hours to avoid blocking a camera.  Now, add two helpful videographers and a director who are able to prompt you exactly when you need it, are happy to put up with your every stumble, tend to your needs for coffee, water and good food, and who believe in frequent breaks.  This is what it's like to shoot an instructional video at F+W Media.

At their Blue Ash, Ohio, offices, we shot three videos in as many days.  As nervous as I was about the prospect, I found the process incredibly enjoyable, and I think everyone had a great time.  On Sunday, I rode around with director Jennifer Lepore (also Online Content Manager for ArtistsNetwork.tv) for half a day and scouted out painting sites for the plein air video.  We picked out two we really liked plus two more backup spots.  Things we looked at included not just the obvious such as sun angle and shadows, but also the risks of traffic and noise.  The rest of the day was free, so Trina and I went exploring and found nearby Sharon Woods, which is a city park with some nice woodland trails in it.

My palette, on-camera

Monday, we met for several hours at the studio to prepare for the shoot, which actually wouldn't happen until Tuesday.  We went over outlines and scripts, making sure to take them step-by-step to figure out exactly what I was going to do when.  (We focused on the plein air video, which we decided to shoot first because of a rather grim weather forecast later in the week.)  I also met Ric Deliantoni, Managing Photographer and also the head videographer, who helped make me comfortable with the concept of being on-camera.  Then we "dressed" the set by putting up some of the paintings I've done on this trip and added a fake ficus for more decoration.  Finally, we placed my easel, taboret and stool so they worked well with the cameras (three were used) but also so they were comfortable for me.

Tuesday, we met at the studio at 7 a.m., drove to the location, and were shooting by 9.  Despite a few stops for walkers, traffic and a lady who parked nearby to have an extended and loud, one-sided conversation on her Bluetooth headset, it went well.  We were done by lunchtime.  The topic for the day was "Making Your Best Guess," something I teach regularly in my workshops.  For this one, I worked in pastel on an 11x14 surface.  After lunch, we returned to the studio to prepare for the next day's shoot by going over more outlines and scripts.  Although I was happy with my pastel, I worked a bit more on it afterward in the studio, off-camera, to bring it up a notch.

Making sure everything looks good before shooting.
(Photo by Jennifer Lepore)

Wednesday arrived pouring rain.  We met in the studio at 8 to shoot the "Color Temperature in the Landscape" video.  This is some new material I've been developing, and I prepared some illustrations in advance.  The topic is a little more technical than the "Best Guess" one, so I spent more time going over concepts before getting to the demonstration.  In fact, I didn't get to the painting part until after lunch!  Again, I was pleased with the results, which was a 12x16 oil.  For the rest of the day, we prepped for our third and final video.  Prepping, by the way, involves not only going over outlines but also figuring out where reference photos need to be positioned and what tools and materials need to be laid out.

(Photo by Jennifer Lepore)

Thursday, it was still raining.  (It was a good thing we did that plein air video on Tuesday!)  Again, we met at 8, this time to shoot "Painting Wet-into-Wet."  I had a little time to touch-up the demo from the day before, but soon we were into the new material.  This topic was less technical than "Color Temperature," so things went a little faster.  We were done with the demonstration (another 12x16 oil) about the middle of the afternoon.  Next, we taped a short Q&A session that will be added to some of the videos and then, as they say, "That's a wrap!"

Was I tired?  You bet!  But I felt fulfilled.  Shooting video in a professional environment was a new thing for me, and I learned a lot about cameras and the process.  In fact, the videographers say I am now an expert with intros and outros.

All that footage is now heading to post-production.  Each video will be edited down to an hour or perhaps ninety minutes, depending on topic and complexity.  I'm looking forward to seeing the final cut, which should be sent to me sometime this fall.  All three videos will be ready just in time for the holiday season.  (Yes, I'll be sending out reminders.)

But the week wasn't all work.  I had dinner and some lunches with several of the great folks at F+W.  It was good to visit again with Pastel Journal editor Anne Hevener and Group Publisher Jamie Markle, and to finally meet Cherie Haas, the online editor for ArtistsNetwork.com.  It was especially nice, after all these years of working for her, to meet my editor at The Artists Magazine, Maureen Bloomfield.  I think she's been editing me for ten years now, and I can't believe we haven't met till now.  And I want to express my thanks to everyone who took time out of their busy schedules to visit and say hello, and to the video group in particular for their efforts on the soundstage.  It was really a wonderful visit.

So that's it for business on this trip.  Now it's off to York on the coast of Maine to visit with a friend, then a night in Bar Harbor, and finally - Campobello Island!  I'll write again once I'm safe in my summer studio.

Road Trip, West to East - Toledo, Ohio, and the Toledo Artists Club

Tulips in  Toledo

Toledo has alway been a place we've just passed by on our cross-country journeys.  But we were surprised and pleased to find it's a thriving art town with beautiful parks.  My two-day workshop for the Toledo Artists' Club was centered at the Toledo Botanical Garden, which includes 60 acres of gardens plus manicured lawns and Crosby Lake.  The tulips were in full bloom for our workshop, along with a number of fragrant, flowering trees.

This workshop had painters in oil, pastel and even watercolor.  Although I don't "do" watercolor professionally, I paint in that medium for my own pleasure.  I enjoyed working with the watercolorists and offering them some suggestions based on my experiences.  (Tip:  To avoid paint drying too fast, work in small patches and avoid big washes.  Also, even though one typically works light-to-dark with watercolor, I like to place my shadows - lightly, of course - before they change.)

Toledo Park Bench, 9x12 oil sketch

For our first day, we had excellent if somewhat warm weather.  I demonstrated in oil, focusing on the temperature contrast of light and shadow.  For the second day, we had intermittent rain, which forced us indoors after my morning pastel demonstration, which I did manage to do out in the field.  In the afternoon, since we were working from photos, I showed them how to take a photo and make a painting from it that had that "plein air" feeling.  (More tips:  Keep the shadows lighter than they appear in the photo, and also push the color temperature contrast.)

Garden Path, 9x12 pastel sketch

We stayed with a wonderful Latvian family for our time in Toledo.  Liga is a fine watercolorist, and for our last morning, she made us a special treat - Latvian pancakes with bacon, sour cream and maple syrup.

Now we are in Blue Ash, a suburb of Cincinnati.  Tomorrow I'll meet with my editor from ArtistsNetwork.tv, and we'll go scouting locations for the plein air video; Monday we'll start the real work of shooting video.  As much as I'm looking forward to taping my three videos, I'm a little nervous - I won't have any students to ask me thought-provoking questions!

Road Trip, West to East - Valparaiso, Indiana and the Art Barn School of Art

It's not an Art Barn workshop unless you have chickens!

After the workshop in Batavia, Illinois, we drove about 90 minutes east to Valparaiso, Indiana, and the Art Barn School of Art.  This makes my sixth time teaching at the Art Barn, and I am grateful to my mentor, Ann Templeton, for suggesting I teach here.  Ann, who taught many times at the Art Barn, is still fondly remembered by Jan Sullivan, now in her 90s, who founded the school.  Jan takes my workshop every year.

The Art Barn occupies 69 acres of woodland and fields, complete with a pond and a trail that runs throughout.  In the woods, many wildflowers are blooming:  trillium, wake robin (a dusky red trillium), jack-in-the-pulpit and spring beauty.  Flowers about to bloom include mayapple and bloodroot, and I'm sure they'll pop the day we leave.  The trees are just barely showing some of their spring greens, and the woods are full of that wonderful red-violet.

Inside the Art Barn

I like to display some of the other work from my trip for students, so these are
some paintings from Zion National Park and Batavia, Illinois

I should give some mention to the farm animals.  Jan keeps a miniature pony and burro, plus a quartet of white ducks and so many chickens I can't count them all.  This year, we missed our chicken wrangler, so chickens made it into only a couple of paintings.  (They don't hold still for long and require a wrangler with plenty of biscuits to feed them.)  I did make sure to include one slow-moving hen in my oil demonstration.

Spring Willow, 12x9 oil

For this workshop, I had seven students, four of which had studied with me previously.  We had oil, pastel and acrylic painters, so I demonstrated in pastel the first day and in oil the second.  The first day dawned with thunder, sleet and heavy rain, but by the time the students arrived, the weather had started to clear.  Still, it was cool enough that everyone wanted an indoor demonstration.  I painted a scene through one of the barn's large, sliding-door windows.  That afternoon, things warmed up enough for everyone to get outside.  On the second day, we had plenty of sunshine, and I chose to paint a storm-blasted willow tree that reminds me so much of some of the Romantic English painters.  Everyone did a fantastic job these two days.

Plowed Field, 9x12 pastel - SOLD

Now we're done with the Art Barn, and tomorrow we head off for Toledo, Ohio, where I'll be leading a two-day workshop for the Toledo Artist's Club.  Toledo is new territory for me, so I'm excited and looking forward to it!

The burro

Yes, we've got roosters, too!

Road Trip, West to East - Batavia, Illinois

Fox River, 9x12 pastel

We left Zion, as always, with bittersweet feelings.  We were reluctant to leave that place of beauty, but eager to move on to our next location and thus ever closer to home.

Our planned route was north to I-70 and through the Rockies, but a spring snow storm pushed us south instead.  They were predicting a foot of snow over several days.  Having gotten caught by a surprise snow squall near Vail a few years ago, we decided to play it safe.  Instead, we chose a route that took us through the Navajo and Hopi reservations around Tuba City and Second Mesa - all very  beautiful country - and down to Albuqerque.  As we pushed onward, we learned that the storm to the north was huge, and we soon ran into 60 mph winds and near-zero-visibility dust storms.

Ironically, we encountered the worst in Dalhart, Texas, which had been Ground Zero for the Dustbowl back in the '30s.  (Today, Dalhart is Ground Zero for feedlots, including Cargill's 21,500-acre "hog production lot," which might help explain the dust.) The storm was three hours of white-knuckle driving.  I wish we'd had time to take pictures.  Besides the dust, there were the tumbleweeds, scouring our windward flank like Brillo pads and then leaping helter-skelter over their comrades piled up against the roadside fence before vanishing.  Five states later, we are still picking tumbleweed fragments out of our car's front grille.

Making coffee in Water Street Studio's kitchen

All was calm at our destination of Batavia, Illinois.  Spring was pushing through quietly, popping up daffodils and leafy buds.  Batavia is home to Water Street Studios, where I've taught several times now.  Water Street Studios consists of a large gallery space, two classrooms and a number of rentable studios.  I always look forward to this workshop, since it's a comfortable, well-equipped facility and we have some nice city parks nearby to paint in.  One of my favorites, the Fabyan Forest Preserve, runs right along the Fox River and has scores of huge, old, gnarly oaks.  This time, I had only three students, but we still had a great time.  Everyone was painting in pastel, so I was able to give them a pure pastel experience.

Blustery Spring Day, 8x12 pastel

Maybe it breaks compositional rules, but I like that street lamp in the middle.

Our first day, we had blustery wind and spiting rain, so my demonstration - like all the paintings that day - was a quick sketch, focusing on value and color notes.  I was surprised at how much red-violet I was seeing the spring landscape.  My students were surprised, too, but soon even they were seeing red-violet everywhere.  This color is a complement to the cool, spring greens.  If you put a mark of neutral grey against a swatch of spring-green, that grey mark will take on a noticeable red-violet cast, thanks to the principle of simultaneous contrast.  This is why we were seeing so much red-violet.

Our second day was filled with sun and fast-moving clouds.  I chose to skip the clouds and to focus instead on the Fox River and the beautiful greens and, yes!, the red-violets I saw.  (See my demonstration at the top of the post.)

Now we are in Valparaiso, Indiana, at the Art Barn School of Art.  This is 60 acres of woodland, meadow and even a pond.  Stay tuned!

Road Trip, West to East - Zion Canyon, Part 5

Falls to Lower Emerald Pool

Saturday morning dawned with steady rain.  The rain, which had begun in the night, came down hard enough to wake us.  At breakfast, fog shrouded the mountain tops, but as it parted, we saw snow at the highest elevations.  After our group critique, I proposed the idea of my doing a pastel demonstration indoors, an idea which everyone eagerly accepted.

Big Sur Coast - 9x12 pastel - color temperature study

I parked myself in front of a large window for light and pulled up a photo on my my tablet.  I decided to paint a "rehearsal" of a piece I plan to make for one of my videos; this particular video will feature oil, but I wanted to try it in pastel first, which I find easier for working out design issues.  The chosen scene was of the California coast near Big Sur, but the real subject was color temperature in the landscape.  I didn't refer to my outline as I worked, but just tried to keep in mind my focus on temperature as I talked.  It was good to go through the steps, since I discovered a compositional problem that needed resolving.  Since I ran into a problem with this one, you can bet I'll rehearse the other two videos, as well.

After lunch, the weather finally broke - or seemed to.  A glimpse of sun came out and the rain stopped.  We had heard Zion can have some great waterfalls after a storm, so we headed up the canyon on the shuttle to see if anything interesting was happening.  We're glad we did!  Trina and I hiked part of the Angel's Landing trail from the Grotto and saw a small waterfall just where the route creeps up a steep wall.  Then the showers began again, so we turned around and hiked over to the Emerald Pools.  An awesome, triple waterfall surprised us as we rounded a corner.  We headed for the lower pool, which required us to hike below and behind the noisiest waterfall.  We hugged the cliff wall to avoid the spray as the water thundered over head and cascaded among the rocks.  Although our shoes were a muddy mess, it was worth the effort.

Triple Waterfalls at Emerald Pools

We and scores of other hikers felt the effort required a break at the Zion Lodge.  We got a bottomless coffee/hot chocolate blend, which we refilled twice, and sat with the other artists and people-watched.  The canyon was surprisingly busy; we thought the rain would keep people away, but maybe they had heard about the waterfalls just as we had.

Evening was spent with saying goodbyes to some of our crew who would be leaving early Sunday morning.  Departing were Tennessee and Maine.  British Columbia had already left, shortly after breakfast and crits.  New Hampshire and Massachusetts wouldn't depart until Monday, as would we.

Sunday dawned clear and cold.  Someone reported it was 37 degrees.  After an early breakfast of oatmeal, we headed up the canyon via shuttle for one last painting expedition.  We stopped at Zion Lodge, about halfway up the canyon, where the sun hadn't quite penetrated yet.  That was good, as I always like to anticipate where the sun is going to hit and work toward it, especially in early morning canyon situations.

We hiked just past the Lodge along the river where the land opened up and gave us excellent views of Angel's Landing, the Emerald Pools waterfalls (still going strong!) and Mountain of the Sun.  I set up facing south and painted a view of the latter with the river in front.  To make sure I got the light on the mountain accurately before the shadows changed, I worked exclusively on just that feature, leaving the rest of the panel empty.  Once I'd finished blocking in the light and shadow patterns and painting in some of the warm, bounce-light on its cliffs, I worked on everything else.

Mountain of the Sun, 12x9 oil

Afterward, we hiked back to the Lodge to eat our sandwiches in the sun and to take the shuttle home.  Once back, it was time to clean up and pack.  Since we'll be traveling for a few more weeks, we had to do the laundry and repack all that stuff that we will need for workshops.  The light continued to be beautiful, and although the brushes are stowed, we still enjoyed an afternoon walk.   The last day is always sad, but we know we'll paint together again somewhere along the road.

Now we are trying to revise our route east.  We had hoped to take I-70 through Vail to Denver, but lingering snow in the Rockies and northern New Mexico may push us as far south as I-40.

Road Trip, West to East - Zion Canyon, Part 4

Painters from Maine and Massachusetts

Friday we went down to one of my favorite spots - Canyon Junction.  This is where the shuttle buses depart the main road and head up into Zion Canyon to follow the river.  A large bridge spans this spot, and the paved Pa'rus trail runs under it.  Also, the canyon widens out to give good views of both the Sentinel and the Watchman with the river lazily winding in the foreground.  There are also big boulders, rapids and waterfalls, a small dam, cottonwoods - plenty of scenery for the painter.  I've painted here several times over the years.

Although you can take the shuttle, there is also a wide shoulder for car parking on the west side of the bridge and a smaller area on the east side.  If you get there early enough - 9 a.m. in the busy season - you'll find a few spaces left.  Later than that, though, and you will need to head back to the Museum where you can park and take the shuttle in.  Our small caravan of three cars had no trouble parking.

Under increasingly cloudy skies, I lead everyone across the bridge and just past the shuttle stop where there is a river access path.  At the bottom of the trail you can wander freely in the sand among the boulders and cottonwoods.  I found myself returning west, passing under the bridge, to a spit of land that let me look back at the Sentinel.  (This year, for some reason, I keep finding myself drawn to this feature.)  It was a nice composition with water, boulder, tree - just about everything.

The Sentinel and the River, 12x9 oil

The painting was a struggle because of the peek-a-boo shadows.   The changing light had the biggest impact on the rock face, so I focused on that, waiting for the moments when the light gave me the effect I wanted.  I painted the rest of the scene at a more leisurely pace once I'd finished the important part.

You can't see my feet in the photo, but my heels are in the river.

I had to head back to the house early for a conference call with my editor.  I was to discuss my upcoming video shoot with her and the videographers and needed some time to study up on the outlines.  After the call, which I was able to do via Skype and another artist's portable Verizon wifi unit, I set up my easel on the patio with the other painters to tweak paintings. The wind was kicking up huge dustdevils, and storm clouds loomed over Zion, so we all decided it was best to stay at the house for the afternoon.

I took my tree pastel from the day before and adjusted the drawing on it; then I adjusted my Grafton church piece by darkening the foreground shadows; and finally I took my latest Sentinel scene and added some dark accents there as well.  These foreground darks continue to elude me in the field, but I am reluctant to automatically apply the darkest dark I can make.  I don't want to make any assumptions.  Quite often, you just don't see that kind of dark in nature.  But if in the studio the painting seems to call for it, I'll listen and add it.

By dinnertime, the wind had died down and patches of blue sky appeared.  Did the storm pass us by?  Not at all.  As I write this at 5 a.m., this rain is falling steadily.

Painter from New Hampshire

Road Trip, West to East - Zion Canyon, Part 3

Warm, pleasant weather continued Thursday as we prepared to head out to the ghost town of Grafton.  Last time we were here, our group went there on the very last afternoon not with the intention to paint - all the gear had been packed up as we prepared to depart Zion - but to explore.  As we drove down the road past turnoffs for Smithsonian Butte and the Grafton Cemetery, we were treated to stunning views of ragged-top buttes, cottonwood-clad arroyos and the distant peaks of Zion Canyon.  And Grafton itself turned out to be a treasure - four or five buildings from the past in a picturesque setting of green pastures edged with split-rail fences and mulberry trees.  We vowed to paint there next time.

After breakfast and the morning critique, we headed out.  The road had more pavement than I remembered, and then, as we got close to Grafton, a lot more dust than I remembered.  The last mile or so was composed of some fine dust that seemed like FFFF-grade pumice; and it was several inches deep and as slippery as snow.  A breath of wind stirred up a huge cloud of it.  We had our all-wheel drive Subaru, but the others had low-clearance rental cars.  We all made it, but the cars were amazingly dusty.  (Later, we found that the dust had penetrated every cavity of the car.)

Last Year's Rattler

We didn't see the rattlesnake we saw last year, which was a big one.  But since the weather had been warm for many days, we kept a lookout.  I found a good view of the church or schoolhouse (it had served both needs) with some nice shadows on the cliffs behind it.  As I painted, a variety of vehicles, including at least one Prius, crawled in on clouds of dust.  Most tourists stayed only five minutes; it was a rare group that stayed ten.  As painters, we absorb much more than the casual visitor.  After staring at a building against a shadowed hill for two hours, you have learned a lot not just about the scene but also about the overall temperament of a place.  It's like an intense conversation with a new friend.

Grafton Church, 9x12 oil

By lunchtime, the sun had gotten hot.  We retreated to a shady porch to eat and rest, and as much as we liked Grafton, we decided it was time to move on.  I personally felt the dust was rising like the tide, and if we didn't get out soon, the road would become impassable.

Back at our house, some of us spent time making adjustments to earlier work.  I found a bit of shade and enjoyed adding or correcting a brush stroke here and there.  My problem is that often I don't put deep-enough darks in the foreground; in the field, I have a hard time judging those darks and often deal with them later.  They're important for creating a sense of depth.

Virgin River Cottonwood, 12x9 pastel

Toward dinnertime, we went back to the Nature Center to work along the river.  We found some nice cottonwoods, and the roar of the water made a pleasant backdrop for painting.

Painter from British Columbia

Weather changes are afoot.  A big storm is predicted for the weekend.

The "Sundance Kids" at lunch.
"Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid," starring Paul Newman
and Robert Redford, was partly shot in Grafton.

Road Trip, West to East - Zion Canyon, Part 2

Painter from Massachusetts

Wednesday dawned mostly clear and about 60 degrees.  Much of the dust from the afternoon before had settled, and from the house we could see the Watchman clearly.  Painters woke early for coffee and scrambled eggs.  Although we had talked about having breakfast at eight, it seemed we were all hungry by seven.  We had thought that getting a too early start didn't make sense, as the canyon is narrow and the walls, steep, which means that it takes a long time for the sun to spill in.  But we found that in the lower canyon, from the Court of the Patriarchs and below, it's wide enough for some good light early.

After breakfast and a group critique of work from the day before, we saddled up and rode the shuttle to the Court of the Patriarchs.  The shuttle plays a tape loop as you run up the canyon and tells you many facts about the Park.  These are interesting the first time you hear them, but by the third or fourth trip it's a little tiring.  (Fortunately, the loop isn't played on the return trip down the canyon.)  As we approached our stop, it let us know that there was a short, steep trail to the right that would give us views of the Patriarchs.  These are three awe-inspiring peaks that tower over a broad sand bench and box canyon.  But I knew from previous experience that the view is partially blocked by trees and there'd be lots of tourists.  Better is the service road on the other side of the road, which takes you by the river and, via a bridge, out to the sand bench, where few people go.

A short hike took us past cottonwoods that lined the river and a horse barn that houses the horses for the guides that run tours up and down this part of the canyon.  The cottonwoods were huge, and several of them showed the work of beavers.  I was surprised that they would go after such large trees; in my experience, they prefer the smaller saplings, which are more tender.   The horses were already gone; we could hear the guides in the trees on the other side of the river, coaching the tourist riders.  A couple of wild turkeys appeared and sparred briefly, but their calls rang out all morning.

Some of us painted down by the water and others up on the sand bench.  I went up on the bench to paint a vista.  After a couple of close-ups of rocks the day before, I felt like painting something a little broader.  I faced up the canyon, where I had views of the spring-greens of cottonwoods against the red-violet of the shadowed cliffs.

Court of the Patriarchs, 9x12 oil

We'd packed lunches with us, so when I finished, I walked around to see what the others were doing while eating a sandwich.  Afterward, I thought about making another sketch, but instead decided to return to town with a couple of the others.  We explored a few galleries and then, after a break, headed back into the field late in the afternoon.  We went to the Nature Center, where we'd gone the first morning, and painted the shadows.  I tackled the Watchman in pastel; my first try this week was in oil, and it had been a hazy-light situation, but this time I had some good, crisp shadows.

The Watchman. 6x9 pastel.

Three of the painters made dinner - grilled chicken, roasted potatoes and asparagus followed by bumbleberry pie and ice cream - and then we settled down to view a short art instruction video one of the painters had brought.  This reminded me that I'm supposed to shoot a series of three videos in a few weeks for Artists Network.  You can bet that I wasn't paying attention to the lesson but instead to how the artist performed in front of the camera.

Road Trip, West to East: Zion Canyon, Part 1

We arrived in Springdale, Utah, on a glorious day filled with air so crisp it was like biting into a good apple.  I imagine it was the kind of day that the first Mormon settlers experienced when they pulled their wagons into Zion Canyon.  They saw it as a place of not only peace and beauty but also as a place of refuge.

The Sentinel, 9x12 oil
(The sun was still out when I painted this one.)

This is, I think, my fourth trip to this land of cloudscraping towers, weeping springs and light-filled canyons.  My first time here, back in the 90s, I hiked Angel's Landing, a 1488-foot climb, after suffering a bout of food poisoning that I acquired in Moab the day before; my next time was in 2011 as an Invited Artist at the Zion National Park plein air painting event; then, shortly after that, I joined a group of artists to spend a week painting here.  (Click here for past posts on Zion.) Now, I'm doing that again.  I'm finding that with each visit I get to know Zion better and better as a painter.

We got to our rental house, which is right in downtown Springdale and close to galleries and restaurants, on Easter Sunday, a day early, which gave me an opportunity to refresh my memory.   Town and the Park were incredibly busy - every lot in the park was filled, and the town's streets were lined with RVs and cars.  Not only was it Easter, it was also a "free weekend" at the National Parks across the country.  Trina talked to one ranger who said that Saturday had been a record, with 27,000 visitors.  To us, Sunday seemed just as busy.

The Watchman, 9x12 oil
(The clouds were beginning to move in.)

But the town and Park have a great shuttle system.  We left the car parked at the house and rode the shuttle, which was filled to capacity, into Zion Canyon and along the North Fork of the Virigin River.  Every stop was a rich painting spot.  You could spend an entire day painting at any of them.  We rode all the way to the end, to the Temple of Sinawa and the Narrows trail, to take the 2.2-mile hike there.  Columbines, Zion Shooting Stars and other flowers clung to the canyon walls, dripping with moisture.

The next day, we prepared for the other artists, buying food at the local grocery store (literally a one-minute walk from the house) and running around making sure we had enough towels.  The first arrival came mid-afternoon, an artist from British Columbia, and while we waited for the others, we did a little sketching in the shade of the house.  Neither of us wanted to get too messy just yet, so he did a pencil sketch and I did a little digital painting.  I continue to play with Sketchbook Pro and find that I'm getting better at quick color-mixing; but even in the shade, on that bright day it was somewhat difficult to see what was happening on-screen.

Digital Zion

The others - a total of nine that included six artists - arrived by dinnertime.  We headed across the street to the Flying Monkey for pizza and then bed.  We were from everywhere, east coast and west coast, and what with the travel and time zone changes, we were beat.  Artists hailed from not just B.C. but also New Hampshire, Maine, Massachusetts and Tennessee.

From Tennessee

Tuesday morning we all woke up early, had a light breakfast and then headed out.  A big spring storm to the north with high winds in our area were predicted.  But dawn came surprisingly calm and clear.  We set up, two pastel painters and four oil painters, along the Pa'rus Trail near the Nature Center, with views of the peaks to the west.  I did two paintings, and then the sun disappeared and the wind began.  We headed back to the house for lunch with the idea of everyone taking the shuttle ride in the afternoon to get familiar with the terrain.  Some of us had been here before, others not, but I thought it'd be good for all of us to scope out painting spots for the week.  By the time we reached Big Bend, the wind was howling.  By the time we headed back down the canyon, the air was so full of dust the canyon looked like Peking on a bad day.  We'd made the right decision to not paint in the afternoon.

The cold front moved in quickly, though, and by the time we finished our dinners at the Flying Monkey, the air was clear, the setting sun bright on the cliffs, and we knew the next day would be beautiful.