Mausoleum at Glenwood

Watercolor of a mausoleumI went to Glenwood Cemetery off Washington Ave. to paint this watercolor yesterday. It’s one of my favorite places. The most beautiful place of its kind that I’ve ever seen. Opened in 1871, it’s terraced, hilly, haunting and mysterious, I get a real sense of history when I’m there. Today I craved a different subject than angels and tombstones. My thoughts turned to the many mausoleums there. I chose one on top of a very steep hillside, so steep from the road that I couldn’t get a good setup from in front. So I climbed to the top and set up my gear behind it, sitting on a low cement grave barrier. I’ve always loved the challenge of painting dappled sunlight. And a challenge it is. The sun kept going behind a cloud, but it stayed out long enough. This took me about an hour and a half to paint.

Houston Arboretum pond

watercolor-Houston ArboretumI painted this watercolor at the Houston Arboretum yesterday. It was a nice late summer afternoon and the place had quite a few people. I toted my equipment around for a while, thinking I didn’t want to spend the whole time looking for the “perfect” spot. I ended up where I usually do, at the little pond covered with lily pads. I sat on a bench with a railing and trees behind. I didn’t necessarily want the curious standing over my shoulder. Once I penciled the general shapes, I realized what a daunting subject I’d chosen. Although sunny, clouds intermittently blocked the light. And those lily pads! Dappled light, then clouds, tree shadows, sky reflection in the water. It was all very hard to visualize on paper. Once I got the first tentative washes down, I was ready to give up. To me, this is one of the hardest times to push on. I know from experience (or I hope) that at some point this will start to resemble a painting, but I’m not always mentally prepared to persevere. But I’d gone to a lot of preparation to be out there and I had looked forward to it. Before I knew it, I had laid in some darker washes for the trees and I started to have hope. But I was overwhelmed with all the detail before me, Many years ago, my drawing teacher told me to squint my eyes to better see the values. This time I did something more drastic. I removed my eyeglasses. My nearsightedness blurred the scene just enough so that I was able to concentrate on the mass shapes and colors. My confidence strengthened and I pressed on, and about an hour and a half later, just as a light sprinkle started, I was done.